𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ᯓ★

“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”

virgin!satoru looks up at you from where his chin rests on your stomach, though you aren’t sure you can call him a virgin anymore. he holds your thighs apart, your sore pussy on sweet display for him. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, which pulls a moan from you, but you stand strong.

“no way,” you shake your head. “absolutely fucking not. you’re… way too big.”

satoru grins, “thank you!”

“i’m not complimenting you, asshole,” you try and shift away from him, but gojo has your hips pressed into the mattress. “it hurts, toru. it’s too much.”

another kiss to your clit. “but she’s so needy for me,” he whines. “cant you see? so fucking wet… she can take me.”

“i can’t. it won’t fit.”

you didn’t think his pretty baby-blues could darken, but they do. satoru, your sweetheart, nips at your clit—only barely, but enough to make you gasp.

“you will,” he says, voice low. “i’ll make it fit.”

you can’t deny it, his tone only makes you even needier. you write under his grip, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips—he’s appraising you, studying his prey before bouncing. and he’s the virgin.

“oh, and after i fuck you, can we go get sushi?”

you blink at him. “what?”

“you know,” he scoots himself up and taps the head of his aching cock against your clit a few times. “to celebrate making it fit.”

their reactions to you smothering them with kisses and then running away

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, shiu, higuruma

fluff, just fluff, they're so in love and soft its sickeninggg

author’s notes: as soon as i saw that satoru didn’t like this usami dude i knew i had to write this.

satoru had a growing suspicion that the usami guy — whom he couldn’t stand by the way — had a crush on you.

it’s so obvious to satoru, his six eyes burn with the assurance; ever since you and usami have been assigned to remaster the archives and check all of the reports since you two were the closest to higher-ups. at first, of course, when gojo heard that you won’t be taking all of the work onto yourself he was very much glad, good for you, but when usami appeared — that sleazy smirk and lazy look on face, the white haired man got kinda tense.

usami acted so different around you it made satoru go crazy whenever he noticed.

the way the tall brunette shamelessly leaned over you by the table as he read into the paper you showed him. the way he sat with his bony knee touching yours and his shoulder bumped into you whenever he passed you, for which he gave you an apologetic smile and patted your arm for too long.

satoru absolutely hated the way usami’s eyes softened whenever he looked at you and the way his voice turned hushed as if you’d be bothered in any way from his usual indifferent tone.

and it felt like that the fucking asshole knew how much it pissed satoru off and continued doing it so shamelessly and calmly just because the higher-ups wouldn’t replace him no matter what. ‘too much of an important asset’ his ass.

his eyes transforming into cold stones laced with triumph over him as he locked his gaze with satoru’s from across the room and whispered something into your ear. or when his thin lips twisted in the ugliest fucking smirk satoru’s ever seen — he truly hated the man.

don’t get him wrong: satoru trusted you wholeheartedly, he just didn’t trust that lapdog. he even complained about it to you, which you dismiss because usami is a great asset when it comes to the history of the whole jujutsu society and the tokyo branch where all of you are settled, he is a walking encyclopaedia and he knows a lot more than everyone because he basically acts like a teacher’s pet to higher-ups.

“i haaate that dude. he used to be mean to ijichi and he wants to steal my girl now? ridiculous!” which was kind of true — usami and ijichu were from the same year, but the latter got scrutinised a lot for choosing the job of an auxiliary manager instead of a sorcerer, needless to say.

you chuckled, not looking away from your papers as you stroked the back of his head, fingers scratching on his undercut, “look at you, defending ijichi when you bully him almost every day. i’m very proud.”

“hey! i’m always just joking around. usami is the real bully here.”

“right.” you nodded dismissively, shutting the manila folder in your hand as you stood up from your chair. satoru patiently waited as you tidied up the desk in the archive room, leaning against the other one, right when the door opened with an ugly squeak and usami came in, holding two identical cups of coffee.

“brought us some coffee— oh.” his eyes scanned satoru’s figure with a disappointed look, not giving him any verbal acknowledgement, before focusing on you, questioning, “i thought you were going to stay with me for the night?”

the choice of words is deliberate, spiteful with the purpose of egging satoru; which did piss him off a little bit, his hand squeezing around your waist in an attempt to ground himself. his mouth was still free though, so he didn’t hold back as his other hand grabbed one of the cups from usami’s hand, taking a big gulp from it and forcing his face not to twist in disgust from it’s taste(it just didn’t have any sugar).

he shrugged his shoulders, faux apology on his face as he smiled down at the brunette, “sorry, man, she’s busy with me.”

the tone of his voice didn’t leave any room for further inquiry so satoru just pulled you in for a quick kiss and guided you to the exit, turning his head to check on usami’s face one last time. the pure disappointment and resentment that covered his features was enough to make satoru smirk, which usami noticed, disdain adding into his expression.

“your coffee’s shit by the way.” satoru said right after letting you out of the room and then followed suit, not interested in usami’s reaction anymore.

“his coffee is good though. it’s from colombia.” you snickered, arm wrapping around satoru’s waist as you both walked through the hallway.

“no drink is good without sugar in it.” he threw the cup into the nearest thrash can and pulled you into his side, finally calm and satisfied with himself again.

Hi! New anon here (🦠). Won’t ask how you’re feeling because we’re all in mourning and in shambles, but what do you think Lottie would be like with a reader who’s an Antler Queen? Lowkey LottieNat-leaning, but reader was the one who got chosen, and now they’re in the spring, and Lottie is THE prophet while reader is THE queen.

Thank you!

Her queen

A/N: Hello my dears, I am back! (I think). This isn't the best of my works and my writing has some improvment to do after my hiatus, but I tried to make it make sense.

Also, let's all welcome dear🦠anon eveyone! I require a round of applause please. Enjoy!

Oh Lottie, the workshipper that you are.

That winter day, when the snow was raging outside and the cold seeped inside the wooden cabin, she consulted with It, asked It what they could do to survive the winter.

When she heard Its voice echo inside her ears, cold as the icy wind and hoarse as a murder of crows and as billions of ghosts’ whispers, she couldn't believe what It was asking, no, demanding of her. You, out of everyone?

That day, she questioned herself whether the Wilderness was real, or a figment of her own imagination. But an order it’s an order, and like the true devotee she is, she compiled. 

When she came into the room, everyone’s faces looked harsh, distant, barely holding it together. The dance of light and shadows the fire projected into the room and onto their faces only added more depth to the seriousness of the situation. Had she been good at art history, Lottie could have confidently said that she had been transported into a baroque’s painting world. Or Victorian gothic, or whatever.

She couldn’t see you at first, not behind the bloody pulp of meat that was left in place of her left eye, not with you away from the center of the room, hidden in the dark, protecting yourself from what was happening. From what was about to happen.

You always looked so precious to her.

Natalie was always It's favorite, but you were always hers.

You were too busy drawing imaginary doodles on the floor, trying to do anything to forget this place to see her walking towards you. Her and your friends’ faces morphed into confusion, anger and jealousy as she arrived at your feet. Only when the fireplace’s lights were gone from your eyes, did you look up. Standing above you, the light shone around her, creating a halo around her figure. She looked almost holy to you, had her face not been shrouded in darkness.

“It chose”.  

Adorned with an antler crown, you order, help and try your best to hold the group together.

You are a beacon of light, a hope inside the darkness. Someone she can count on, someone she knows will lead all of you to safety. 

Lottie is utterly obsessed with you, even more so after you became the Antler Queen. She treats you like a god.

She gives you her share of the food, stuff your clothes with fresh medicinal herbs, kisses you goodnight every day, when the sun goes down, right in the middle of camp, in front of everybody. She looks up at you with love in her eyes, as if you were a gift the Wilderness sent her, for how good of a devotee she was.

Speaking of kisses. Charlotte, previous to the crash, had never been too much into public displays of affection. And, more than that, she never confessed anything about her little crush for you. But after everything went to shit, it’s like a cloud obscures her judgment. She had always felt this need to tell you, to come and sit down next to you and whisper in your ear “I like you”, but never had the courage.

That’s until the Wilderness itself made you their queen, and from then on, all her fears and doubts melted away.

On one of those afternoons when the air gets warmer and the light shines longer, she comes to you. You were sitting down on a log, letting time pass while you carved a figure out of wood. It’s something that always made her smile, how you could still cling to humanity in a place like this. She couldn’t. They couldn’t.

Since the evening was nearing, everyone was finishing up their tasks, sitting by the fire or losing track of time. You looked up to see Lottie’s gaze fixated down on you. “Oh, Lottie. Wha-” you couldn’t finish your words, because the moment you stood up, she took your face in her hands and leaned down to kiss you.

The more time passed, the rougher she had become with you. Her teeth pulled at your bottom lip, her tongue exploring your mouth, her breath heavy against your skin. All of that, in front of every one of your friends. 

You couldn’t let yourself be seen by anyone for a while, especially because Lottie had followed you to your tent. 

She follows you; no matter where you go, you've always got her eyes on you.

Resting inside your tent? Lottie peeks at you.

Hunting with Natalie? She gives you a protection token and prays for you while you are away.

Eating meat by the fire? She watches as your teeth sink into it.

You think it’s a little weird sometimes, but you know she means well. 

And don’t get me started on the rituals.

They are divided into two categories: the ones that are performed in front of everyone, and the ones that only you two share. Despite the height of the experience of a group ritual, it's the private ones that are her favorite. 

She wakes you in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep and the air is cool. You follow her into the woods, away from the camp. She tells you that the Wilderness has asked her for a sacrifice tonight, and that that sacrifice is you. She tells you that It wants to hear you scream into the night, wants to feel you writhe above the ground it rules over. 

So you sit on an old tree stump, big enough to let you sit comfy on it. Lottie slowly descends down your body, until her face is nestled right where you need her the most. Thanks to her height, she has no problems in placing your legs on her shoulders; hell, you are even slightly curved upwards because of it.

She dives right down, taking you between her lips, workships you until her name echoes between the trees. Under the spring’s moon and stars only you and her exist.

Only with you she can still be human.

You are her god, and she’ll be your servant until she dies.

When you get back to camp, you’re greeted by a tired Taissa sitting by the fire, with deep eyebags, looking at you as if she could kill you with her gaze.

“You should really keep your voice down…”. 

He's doing very important research

( @caps-clever-girl thank you for the hilarious tags, I giggled out loud when I saw them)

[ID in alt text]

(Part 1) (Part 2)

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like everyone runs the second they see sukuna—because what would you do if a 6’4” pink-haired, red-eyed menace started powerwalking toward you like a GTA NPC with maxed-out aggression settings? you tried to flirt? bold of you to assume you’ll live to tell the tale. that’s not even a fight, that’s a one-sided curb stomp at 1000 km/h.

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like gojo picked the outfit, hyped you up in the mirror, and dramatically twirled you around like he was styling a runway model. people whispering, “your boyfriend must be so proud of you dressing like this” have no idea. he’s not just proud. he’s smug. he’s grinning like the cheshire cat. he’s reminding everyone that this outfit? it was purchased with his black card. he might as well get a tattoo on his forehead that says “i love my partner.”

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like nanami doesn’t even take you to places where people might get ideas. he’s preemptively removing himself from all potential nonsense. but in the rare event that some old-money finance bro decides he’s all that, nanami doesn’t waste words. no yelling, no drama—just a discreet nod to the staff, and suddenly, mr. stocks-and-bonds is being escorted out so efficiently you’d think nanami owns the whole damn place. (he does not. but he does know the owner. personally. and that’s enough.)

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? yeah. toji is currently fighting them. no hesitation. someone made eye contact for 0.2 seconds with you across the bar? boom, it’s a street fight. you barely brushed against someone in the crowd? suddenly, they’ve got a black eye. no one even knows what started it—just that toji is laughing, you’re holding his drink, and there’s a very real possibility someone’s going home in an ambulance. your boyfriend can fight? yeah. but at this point, he should probably be arrested.

What if dilf orc has a young child, the bearer of his child unfortunately passed away. Then he sees you. A plump soft human, a bit softer than the usual orc parent, but in his eyes your tenderness would be perfect for his youngling.

He begins to court you immediately. Always brushing past you to subtly scent you, bringing his sweet baby with him to try and sway your choices. Of course the little orc toddler immediately makes your heart melt, the way they waddle over to you curiously, the orc child despite being extremely young was already up to your waist.

If you give into his courting? Be prepared for princess treatment. Being carried everywhere by him as the new parent of his child. Of course you’d naturally gain a lot of muscle from being with him, due to an orcs typical rugged lifestyle and the fact that your new adopted orc toddler likes to be carried and coddled! How could you say no to such a chubby cute face? You’ll be carrying them a lot, and orc babies are HEAVY so yeah, prepare to get swoll.

But to compensate I can definitely see your orc dilf spouse making sure you get more than enough food, after all you’re burning way too many calories carrying his youngling around, and plus he needs to keep you squishy for optimal cuddles.

DILF orc always brings you home gifts from fights or battles, mainly skulls of his enemies (how charming 🥰) or maybe a whole deer, already cut up and prepared for you to cook, he’s very doting.

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Part 2: The Dead Ones

Tag list: @pix-stuff, @sweetconnoissurgarden, @craftymoonchaos, @jsprien213, @hebaoffside, @bunbunboysworld, @melonylla, @numbu5, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @formulas-bitch, @fantasyhopperhea, @otterluver05, @caged-birdies-blog, @minkyungseokie, @una1002289, @vanessa-boo, @welpthisisboring, @sirenetheblogger, @salfishers, @meeeeeeee-stuff, @eylsiankub, @lilithskywalker, @midnightprocrastinator, @lilyalone, @cloudserenity, @wizzerreblogs, @reallynotsoconfident, @deliajo, @bitternsweet, @astterrial, @jjggdfvvy

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---__---___---___---___---

You and Bruce were in his office, you let out a puff of smoke as you stood by the window. Taking in the view.

"You know, in Arkham, there wasn't any bars on the windows. More like, plastic glass, so blurry I couldn't even see the moon clearly." The cigarette shortened even more as you took a long drag from the cigarette.

Bruce watched you from his desk, an unreadable expression on his face. You look so. . . it's hard for him to see you as who you are right now. Deep down Bruce knew you'd change some way after Arkham. Which was his sorry excuse for not visiting you. Only reading three of your letters, and stopped, he felt shame when it came to you. For which one of you, he doesn't know.

There are times, he did feel shame of being your father. Horrible, he knows. He's the worst father alive. And that's when he feels shameful of himself.

You let out a small sigh before turning to Bruce, you see the complex expression he had.

". . . You know Daddy, I don't think I ever seen you smile."

You walked closer to his desk and took a seat on one of the chairs. Bruce just silently stared at you. You still call him Daddy. He wanted to feel happy at the fact one thing stayed the same with you. But the way you said it. You said it in such a mocking way. Like it was a joke. Him being your father was a joke to you. It hurt. He rather you call him Bruce in the most hateful way you could.

"Y/n, I'm sorry-" Bruce tries to apologize, but you cut him off with the wave of your hand.

"I'm not here to fish out any apology from you."

Silence fills the room. You sighed again, putting out the cigarette by dropping it into a glass of water. You stood up and approached the vinyl player, you start it up as Bruce raised his brow in confusion. You turn around to face him

"Come on daddy, let's dance." You approached the older man, grabbing his arm and tugged him to stand. Even with how random your request was, Bruce complied, and you two began to slow dance together, the feeling was foreign to both.

The slow music continued as you two danced. You let your head rest on your father's shoulder, staring blankly at nothing. Bruce squeezed your hand. You began to realize. You have never been this close to Bruce. Always 4 feet away.

"When I was a little girl, there was this daddy daughter dance at school. . . I always wanted to dance with you like this. But you were busy. I understood, but it still hurt" Your statement caused Bruce to hold you a little tighter. Before he could attempt to apologize. You spoke up to shut him down.

"Don't you dare apologize."

The two of you continue to slow dance. You closed your eyes as Bruce rests his chin on your head. Closing his eyes. The two of you swaying to the music.

This moment should be a peaceful, loving moment between a father and daughter. But it felt more like an ending to a story that was going nowhere.

"Daddy, I have a question for you."

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, still holding you tight.

Your eyes slowly open. "Have you seen Mommy recently?" Your question caught your father off guard. Visibly frozen. You lift your head up and see his expression turn a little sour.

"Why?" He spoke, slightly offended. Your spending time with him, why not focus on him?

"She's been missing. For a month. Not even her own family knows where she is. . ."

"Well, I don't where she is. I haven't had contact with her for years."

You sighed and pulled away, turning your back to him. A sign to show you were upset with his answer. Bruce frowns a little at you pulling away, his arms stayed up, almost to reach back for you.

"She visited me, every week, for several years. So please, understand I need to find her." You really were hoping to see if Bruce knew anything. But of course, he disappoints you with nothing. Again.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

You got a text from Rex; your grandfather needed you back at the manor. You didn't have enough time to get your things from your old room, so you left Bruce in his office, walking to the front doors, where Alfred waited for you with your coat, along with Dick, Tim and.. . someone else you didn't recognize. But you focused on Alfred, and gently smile to the older man.

"Thank you for the food, Alfred, probably the one thing I missed the most while locked up." You spoke in a joking manner as you turned to let Alfred put your coat on for you. Alfred smiled a little.

"Thank you, miss."

You look up and give the three men a small nod "Dick, Tim . . . And?" You gave the third man a small look of confusion.

"I'm sorry I don't believe I got your name." You adjusted your coat as you stared up at the man and gave him your hand to shake. But the man just stared at you, Dick had to nudge him to snap him out of it.

The man snapped out of it and quickly took your hand and held it as gently as possible. You took notice of the scars on his calloused hand. He spoke in a nervous tone

"Jason, Jason Todd"

You instantly come to a pause.

"I- Uh, Jason Todd?" You know the name. Very well. But the name doesn't fit the face you remember.

But the look on everyone's face says it all, you know this family would not lie about this. You stepped closer to Jason, your hands hovering over his face, Jason could see your eyes glossed over with incoming tears that never fell.

" How. . .I thought you were dead. . ." You spoke in almost a whisper.

Jason lets out a weak chuckle.

"I thought you were dead too."

No words could express how much he missed you. When he came back from the dead, back into the family. No one dared to mention you. Even when he asked about you. They acted as if you were dead. But you were only a few miles away. Locked up. The thought alone angers him, he could have saved you sooner.

"Heh, I seem to get that a lot." You coil back and felt your phone buzz. Your ride was here.

"Do you have to leave Miss? It's late, why not stay for the night." Alfred tries to have you stay for at least a night.

"You just got here" - Dick

"The crime has gotten worse lately"- Tim

"Please. . .?"- Jason

You sighed as you opened the door,

"Sorry boys, no can do. Maybe another time." You gave them a small smile and turned to the car that was here to pick you up, but when you took a few steps down the staircase, you turn around where the entrance door was still open with Alfred and the boys stood.

"Oh, and Jason" Hearing you speak his name, Jason immediately perked up

"It was good seeing you. . . alive and all." You gave him a small toothy grin, before finally getting into the car.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Do you understand, how angry Jason was right now? After all this time thinking you were dead, his sweet little sister gone, you were alive, in a cage full of crazy's. He doesn't care if you took a few lives. You didn't mean too, it was an accident.

He was furious with Bruce for letting you get locked up for so long. Because you're staying with the Falcone's, a bunch of criminals that resort to anything if kept on the top.

"She was alive this whole time, and you knew."

Not only was it Bruce, but Dick knew to. Of all people to keep this away from him, Jason wouldn't think Dick of all people would lie.

"No one said she was dead Jay." Dick tried to calm Jason in some way.

"No one said she was alive!" Jason was quick to snap at Dick who just frowned at Jason's tone.

Your reappearance was indeed a shock to everyone and a lot of them are still trying to process it. As for the ones who never knew of your existence, they were trying to find out more about you. Your name has never been uttered, no pictures of you. Nothing. It was like you never really existed.

Thank Tim for that. Who had to remove you completely, so the Wayne name had less pressure on them. But now Tim is trying to gather what kind of rehabilitation you were in. He felt suspicious of your return. The way your eyes would bare into everyone in a sort of creepy way. As if analyzing them, Tim knew if he brought it up to either Bruce or Dick they would not listen to him. Especially by the way they reacted to your return.

So he was lucky Cassandra and Duke came to him first.

"The way she stared at me, I don't know man it gave me the creeps." Duke wasn't saying this out of meanness. You were genuinely making him uneasy every time you glanced at him, even more nervous when you gave him a smile.

Cassandra felt threatened by you. No one but her noticed how you stared at her the most.

"Something isn't right with her." Was all Cassandra said. Something was indeed wrong with you.

". . . Well, she just got out of Arkham, maybe she's a little. . . ?" Duke trailed off. Not wanting to say the word crazy just yet.

Tim silently listened to Duke and Cassandra's concern about you.

"Haven't you known her longer Tim?" Duke questioned.

Tim sat back in his chair as he let out a small sigh. You might have not noticed much, but he was always watching you. From the moment Bruce took him under his wing. You were small. Quiet, and simple. Not like that was a bad thing. At that time Tim wanted excitement, thrill. And you were none of those things, due to the fact you were practically a toddler.

But now, your different. Of course. It's a no-brainer Arkham would change you, he saw it coming. But your change was, unsettling. He hoped you would stay for him to find out more. But it seems your occupied with the Falcone's at the moment. Whatever it is, he's going to find out.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎?"

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…

⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)

⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making

⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work

⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 

⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 

⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months

⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop

⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 

⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving

dividers by @/cafekitsune

BNHA SMAU!

Wearing their hero costume!

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Ejiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki

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Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugou

Ejiro Kirishima

Tamaki Amajiki