#he has a working tail as well and i would have to dig for my notes on how i got that to work :')

[starbberryblue]

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS... MY SPECULATIVE BIOLOGY LOVING AUTISTIC ASS DID THIS FOR MY SCI-FI PROJECT BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL AFTER LEARNING ABOUT LAB GROWN ORGANOIDS!! I FEEL SO VINDICATED SEEING OTHER PPL TALK ABOUT IT!!! :D

anyway if this is how my mutuals learn that the ongoing sci fi world ive had since i was 12 which i sometimes post about has legitimate cat (and wolf) people walking around im sorry

these sketches are old as fuck but meet my beloved trans catboy, Adonis :3 he's a double (triple?) agent who works at a "cat cafe" (a host club where all the hosts are animods, which is what the dork ass scientists who first made catgirls called their creations) as cover while he tracks a soldier suspected of treason.

his real job is with the Big Bad Government, as an infiltrator / spy, but his REAL real "job" is spying on the Big Bad Government for who else but the fash-bashing rebel organization i put in everything i make!

he is a very very beloved oc to me who i made very early in my transition as a means of venting about trans sexuality, the infantilizaton of trans men, SWERFs and TERFs, capitalism, and honestly just to make a character with my ideal body* (i DO need to make an updated ref of him) who is seen as attractive and even worthy of love (wow!!) by other characters.

*not that my ideal body includes cat parts- i was referring to the fact that he is (by his own metrics) a fully transitioned FTM, but like i wouldn't mind having cat ears n stuff,

ANYWAYS!! apologies for the long ass derail of what is a very very cool post, this is rly just meant for the maybe 3 or 4 people who are regularly on my blog bc i haven't taken my adhd meds yet and i got really excited about an OC i haven't shared yet :')

like okay if we're talking about this anatomically the ear holes on a human skull and a cat are actually in the same spot it's a difference in the shape of the cranium. you can see what's happening if you look at hairless cats

ears is big. so you can put the cat ears wherever you want if you start them at the same point as where the human ears would go.

just like. pull the sideburns back a little and it's fine. it's fine.

it's the best way to catify your blorbos with visible human ears. but that's just my........ purrsonal opinion..............

[ryebread0605]

May I request a fic for Leona, please?

Reader (assumably Yuu) has a lot of cat-like behaviors that are really pretty unconscious. Things like scruffing Grim with their lips when he's being rowdy during class, grumbles that sound a lot like growling, other vocalizations, headbutting (nuzzling) & nibbling at people they're really close to, etc.

Some Beastmen find it kinda odd for a human to do?? But Leona kind of finds it endearing, especially when Reader gets closer to him & exhibits familiar behaviors from home without realizing they're lowkey courting him (and he's accepting the sweet behavior).

For the spice aspect?

Leona wants to see just how much like a cat they really are— including how they scratch at his back & growl in frustration while being edged. They may be a big cat, but he's the King of Savannaclaw. And while they're not a Beast, something tells him they'd make a good spouse who'd adjust quickly if he were to return to the Sunset Savanna.

- 🐈‍⬛ anon

I’ll do my best cat anon!! 

If you couldn’t tell, I absolutely ADORE Leona so this was a fun write!!!  (I made sure to add a cut where the smut begins!)

When he first met you, he didn’t think anything of you. Afterall, you were just another one of his classmates that he only saw the rare times he went to class. However, all that changed when he saw you interact with Grim in the greenhouse one day. 

The cat direbeast had been extra annoying that day, and although you loved him to bits, Sevens you were close to punting him. And so, to get him to stop running off and destroying stuff, you simply picked him up by his scruff with your mouth. To your surprise, and Leona’s, Grim immediately stopped misbehaving and just pouted in your grasp. 

From that day, you had gained Leona’s interest, and he noticed more little things about you that reminded him of cat beastmen like himself and Chen’ya. From bumping your head against people to show affection, gifting bones to people as a sign of friendship, and simply letting out a low warning growl at Grim whenever he misbehaved, he became convinced you were at least *part* beastman.

But no, no matter how many times he tried to find any other conclusion, you weren’t a beastman at all. However, him being interested in your behavior inadvertently got your attention on him as well. You felt yourself entranced by the way his ears would flick in irritation when chastised by Vil or how he still worked hard to maintain his unruly hair despite claiming he didn’t care how he looked.

Soon enough, he found random gifts being left at the door of his dorm room. It started small with some sticks, which he threw away thinking nothing of it. Then it progressed to small animal teeth before growing to full animal skeletons. After months, he finally caught you in the act as you left a fresh, high quality steak at his doorstep. He stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as his tail swayed in slight curiosity.

“Herbivore, what’re you doing here?” His voice was gruff, having clearly just woken from a nap judging by his mess of a mane. And yet, when things clicked in his mind, it was only a split second longer until you were tugged into his room with the door shutting behind you. 

Digging your nails into the sheets, you growled out moans as the lion prince rutted into you continuously. Your neck was covered in bite marks, showing everyone who had claimed you. Your back had cum on it from him, and yet despite him cumming twice he had refused to let you cum at all. Letting out another threatening growl as he pulled out just before you climaxed, he quickly gripped the back of your neck between his teeth just as you had done to Grim all those months ago to gain his attention. Afterall, you may act like a cute kitty but he had to remind you who truly was the one in charge here

[thumblemina]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ content warnings: 18+, mdni, fem!reader, oral, dirty talk, praise, atsumu being a lil dumbass + tease

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ word count: 1.6k

fwb!asumu who is unreliable in a way that should easily pull apart the casual strings holding together your entire precarious situation. because if he’s not playing volleyball, he’s conditioning to play volleyball, or struggling to pass classes so he can play more volleyball, or just thinking of volleyball really, and that means those ridiculous u up? texts are sporadic at best.

at worst, his responses to you slipping into his messages after two too many drinks are more often than not hitting his screen when he’s snoring at an ungodly volume.

fwb!asumu who follows up your Friday post-last-call booty call attempt the next morning at 7AM with a crying face emoji and a sweaty ab pic (that you’ve never asked for, but he always provides, and you happily return to later under your covers).

only for him to slide into your messages a week later on a Tuesday at 6PM (it’s still light out, and that should be sacrilegious, but that’s just how you both work) begging for a taste of you, waxing bad poetic about your thighs when you send the unfortunate reply that you’ve got a paper due at midnight that you need to pass your infuriating statistics class. and maybe you send him a picture of those aforementioned thighs, since it’s only fair, and then put your phone on do not disturb to ignore the 20-part emoji breakdown that follows.

fwb!asumu who when the stars do end up aligning, somehow, will still end up stumbling into your apartment after midnight an hour later than he said he would, at least with the decency of looking a bit sheepish, but that’s the only decent thing about him. his cheeks are flushed and his words are slurred, thickening his dialect in a way you’ll never admit tickles you somewhere deep in your core when you herd him inside, swatting away the sloppy kisses he’s already planting along your throat.

fwb!asumu who's kicking off his shoes next to yours when you finally shove him off to disappear for a small bathroom break, and he’s shooting you that hooded look that you expect will have him naked and warm in your bed when you return, but he’s not.

when you pass by your kitchen on your way to your room, he’s leaning against your marbled counter, taking up more space than anyone ever seems to do in your place, with a takeout container in one hand and a fork shovelling pad thai into his mouth with the other.

your pad thai.

fwb!asumu who just blinks when you spit his name, staring him down deadpan.

“this ain’t mine?” he manages through rice noodles and beansprouts, sending you that cheeky smile that knows better. he earns an eyeroll when he lies so easily, “swear it was mine.”

“that’s supposed to be my dinner tomorrow,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest, somehow both surprised and not at all with how much he’s been able to devour in the three minutes you left him unsupervised.

you even splurged for the 3 dollar shrimp surcharge. now three dollars poorer and somehow the fact that you know he eats the tail too makes it even worse.

he sets the takeout down, roughly wiping his mouth with his forearm in a way that should give you the ick but never does. that easy, magnetizing grin is digging into his cheek. “lemme make it up to ya, princess. promise you won’t even remember ya had it in the first place.”

fwb!asumu who is infuriating and unreliable and honestly such a bad fucking idea, but he’s consistent where it counts. in his serves, in his sets, and in the way that he already has you panting when he’s grinding your hips into your mattress, a well-conditioned thigh pressing between your legs at just the right angle that has you arching into him, his tongue is swirling in that sinful way against your throat.

“fuck, sweetheart, you keep moaning in my ear all desperate like th’t, i ain’t gonna last.”

“who’s desperate?” you breathe out, but the way that it falls like a prayer off your lips betrays you, and the smirk nestled against your skin hears it too.

fwb!asumu who tastes like cheep beer and your fucking pad thai, but when those pretty setter fingers are rolling your swollen, puffy nipples between them, tugging the precise amount that stings in that pain-please wire-cross way that makes your head spin, you are having trouble remembering anything beyond his touch. you’re gasping, but it wavers into a needy moan as soon as he ducks his head and soothes the sting with the wet heath of his mouth.

it’s sloppy in a way that he only is in bed- the obscene smack of his lips, his spit, his fucking tongue. you never understand how he can make you fall apart with just his tongue.

“ah, tsumu, more, i need more,” you’re begging, you know it and you should be embarrassed but your brain has been replaced with radio static and want. the only thing you know is the friction between your thighs, your soaked panties, and his hands roughly grabbing all over you but somehow, it's still not enough. "fuck, c'mon."

fwb!asumu who presses his thigh harder into your core, those calloused fingers moving to grab the plush of your hips and grind you down onto him in that delicious way he knows you love, voice rough when he’s saying, “think i might wait till yer desperate, though.”

you’re rolling your hips, arching your back for more, cursing the futile barrier your damp panties provide between the skin-to-skin contact you're craving. and when his teeth lightly brush against your already too-sensitive nipples, pulling a gasp from your lips, you feel the smirk before you look down to see those dark, molten eyes and see it.

“get the fuck down there, pretty boy,” you grind out, suppressing the shiver that threatens when you grab a fistful of his dyed hair, something you know he loves by the low groan that escapes him, and shove him further down your body.

fwb!asumu who’s grinning when he teases, “so demanding,” and shifts your legs on either side of his broad shoulders.

but with atsumu the teasing never stops there, because even when those pretty setter fingers are hooking your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds to the air in a way that makes your breath hitch, and you’re rocking your hips up for more, he’s still just pressing sweet, wet kisses to your inner thighs. even when you all but whine when he runs a thick thumb along your slit, pressing meanly into your clit, puffs of hot air from his mouth close but not close enough, he still isn’t getting close enough.

“tsumu,” you huff, frustrated, threading your fingers through his hair. “stop fucking playing around.”

and he’s sucking a filthy kiss right next to your cunt, murmuring, “but you’re so fun to play with.”

fwb!asumu who will tease you and play with you and make you arch your back and fucking keen in the most infuriating way possible, who will miss your texts and eat your pad thai and show up an hour fucking late, but when he finally, finally presses that filthy mouth over your clit, it’s all suddenly so worth it.

because he’s running his broad tongue through your dripping folds, dipping his tongue to tease your entrance, collecting all that slick just to suck your clit into his mouth, and your mind fucking breaks. your eyes clamp shut, and all you can see are stars and galaxies, your ears are drowned out by the obscene wet noises he’s making or you're making you're not sure, his hands digging into the fat of your thighs, and the most pathetic little noises are leaving your mouth.

he’s nudging a finger into your entrance, soaking as he slides in so easily, and in that coarse, sexy fucking voice saying, “yeah, you’re my good fuckin' girl, aren’t ya?” in a way that you can only whimper and rock your hips into his face, any words stolen from your lips as his tongue and fingers synchronize in that way he knows to make you fall apart.

fwb!asumu who seems to know all the soft spots to unravel you, curling his fingers just right, tongue swirling and sucking just right, until there’s no arguing that you are that desperate mess. you’re only broken sobs and bucking hips and whining for more, more, more.

you're tugging at his hair now, digging your fingers into his scalp in a way that you know must be painful but when it has him groaning, raspy and wrecked, right into your pussy you absolutely can't care. the tighter you tug, it seems to spur him on even more, he's getting even sloppier with it.

and it’s that timber as he’s murmuring in that almost mocking voice, “i know, baby, i know,” when you’re clenching around his fingers that has you tumbling right off the edge, falling into the abyss, overwhelmed by white hot need.

fwb!asumu who dutifully helps you ride through the aftershocks, nudging that spongy spot inside you until your legs are limp and liquid, and then is slipping his fingers out of you and licking them clean. despite your chest still panting, and that boneless quality you know is written all of your body, you roll your eyes. “didn’t i feed you enough?”

he’s grinning down at you, and you can see his erection straining against his briefs, a promise of more to come. “can’t help it, you’re so fuckin' tasty.”

you sigh. “oh? better than my pad thai?”

fwb!asumu who laughs in a way that settles right into your core, before crawling back up your body and capturing your mouth in a searing, wet kiss. “guess i’ll just have to fuck ya harder if you still remember.”

fwb!asumu who absolutely does.

until the next day, when you’re opening what’s left of your takeout for dinner, and realizing that he absolutely did eat all your shrimp, including the fucking tails, that freak.

╰┈➤ a/n: genuinely don't know what this even is (me craving pad thai???) but he is so fucking cute omg. itching to make a follow up but have no idea where it would go lol. divider by @cafekitsune

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Mafia Ringleader x GN Reader

What? I'm sick of these classic Mafia husbands trope yet we all know damn well that part of us is digging real deep into it. So allow me to hand you one of my Mafia OCs.

One of the nation's biggest threats has yet to be your lover, wagging his imaginary tail as he rested his face on your lap. We are so desensitized to how immoral a mafia is due to the romanticization of it to the point you just straight up ignore all his crimes!

Because of his work, the two of you can't really have a private date somewhere out there. Sure the bodyguards are not in sight but you know better than to think that they are not lurking around to keep you both safe from his rivals.

"Won't you gimme a smooch'aroo?" "... In front of your men?" "*Pouts* Pretty please?"

You love it when he throws all cold facades away and shifts himself into a touch-starved puppy! Who would have known this guy just sent one of his enemies their men's heads as a lingering threat to not exert themselves~

While your lover is not involved in the human trafficking side, it doesn't justify his actions for being the largest drug dealer in this nation. Whatever type you are looking for, junkies, he has it all stored for you, with a price of course.

But if you are a junkie reader then he'd be quite worried. You see, he may be dealing drugs but that doesn't mean he's doing drugs. He likes nicotine but would rather not indulge himself in yet another addiction okay? And that goes the same way to you! Please stop it.

And may I tell you that Kaspar enjoys ranting to you about how his day(s) has been, how he wants you to comfort him as you praise him for surviving yet another day? Empty plates are not filled with him just sitting around and he has to fight every day to not remind himself of the old days?

"Oh yes, have my beloved eaten? You are not going through another silly diet, right? Trust me, food is meant to be enjoyed and not over-calculated!"

There are also times he'd rant non-stop about this certain lawyer that he's working with. Of how one of the nation's biggest threats, has been reduced into an errand boy for his spouse! Can you believe that, babe?

Overall Rating? 9/10. Where did the 1 one go to? Your dead friend that insulted you and his punishments. Ehe.

Look, he has a problem with people who dare to look down on him and you, he has grown up in a rather unfortunate background in which he fights teeth and nails to break free so how DARE someone patronize him or you?

Yeah, it sounds romantic but not so cute when it's your literal bestie. He spares no mercy in how he deals with them too, the only mercy he's offering is one chance and nothing more.

Another dark side of him would be his... punishment. Ehe. Due to his upbringing as a ringleader, he is used to disciplining his men, rough. Sure he doesn't give you the same punishment as he does to his men but that doesn't mean it saves you from how unpleasant it is.

The worst punishment that wrenches his heart would be making you skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner! He doesn't have the heart to but he has to! (Honestly, in your opinion, there is literally worse punishment than this, not gonna name it.)

Yeah he is a Beelzebub at heart (Gluttony)

[gor3-hound]

WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE - NAOYA ZENIN

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

a/n: commission for the very lovely @nexysworld !! naoya is so very pretty and i was scared to write him BUT !! he was actually very fun to write. i love my asshole nepo baby :3 hope you guys enjoy, fb and reblogs are always appreciated <3

cw: 18+ content, dead dove-ish, pussy inspection, mistreatment of hybrids, forced cosmetic procedures, dub-con bcs power dynamics, praise, degradation, use of shock collars, caging, mentions of filing teeth, ear cropping, touching unhealed wounds, tail play, misogyny, spit, mean naoya, dehumanisation, orgasm denial, forced spaying, p in v, creampie, dacryphilia, neglect

word count: 3.2k words

Naoya’s bored.

It might’ve made you feel better if he had a secret soft spot - that the pressures of his clan have left him lonely and desperate for companionship, but that’s simply not the case. There’s no profound self-realization that comes with his actions, no sense of guilt when he pays one of the maids to suck him off before he kicks her to the curb.

He’s just bored. He’s always found the best cure for his boredom was to find a pretty little plaything that was willing to put up with him. But there’s only so much you can do to a human girl before she’s skittering off. Women value their life more than their job these days, a thought that has him scowling and breaking the shit in his room as soon as his latest slut cuts him off.

He needed something more permanent. A pretty thing that he can use to get his dick wet. One that isn’t crying for a relationship or money when he’s finished. He’s always found those hybrids pretty cute, and it seemed like the perfect thing to keep him entertained. A girl that knew she was lesser than him. A pet he could play with that would forgive him after a couple of head scratches and a new toy.

It’s that thought that has him dragging his ass to the nearest adoption center, his eyes scanning the kennels until he spots you.

You seem like a shy little thing, but he doesn’t see an issue with that. He’s always had more fun breaking girls in, and you’d be no exception. He hums thoughtfully for a moment, his head cocking to the side as he looks you over. He doesn’t address you or ask you any questions, but he doesn’t need to. You were cute, and that’s all he really cared about, anyway. He calls a worker over, asking to get some time alone with you.

“Well, we don't really have any private rooms for you to-”

“How much?” Naoya cuts him off without even gazing his way, his eyes locked onto your form. No point buying the goods if he doesn’t get a trial run, first.

“I'm sorry?” The worker stutters out. Naoya hates that shit. Pisses him off more than anything, acting like he doesn’t want the Zen’in’s money. Naoya knows better.

“You heard me. How much? Doesn't need to be a fancy room. Shit, I'll take a storage room. I gotta check she's worth the money, y'know?” He says with a sigh, his brows twitching slightly as he fights back a scowl.

Seems to work well enough, because the worker leads him to a staff room, telling him to wait right there. He crosses his arms over his chest, making him sigh in annoyance. He waits impatiently, but he lights up when you come padding into the room, looking all nervous.

”No need to be scared, girl.” He tells you, but his words come out in a grunt. He doesn’t really care if you’re scared of him or not, as long as you let him get a good look at you. He moves towards you when you don’t budge, gripping your chin between his fingers.

His gaze is sharp, his dark brown eyes narrowed as he looks over your features. He reaches a free hand up to your floppy ears, giving them a flick. A frown crosses over his features as he gives you an appraising gaze , clicking his tongue. “They’ll have to get done. Don’t like ‘em.”

His fingers and thumb dig into your cheeks, forcing a gap between your teeth so you open your mouth. He shoves his fingers down your throat, sighing when you gag and splutter. “Gonna have to train that outta ya. Those canines are gonna have to get fixed, too. Bet they’d fuckin’ hurt if they caught my dick.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your spit off on your cheek, smirking when your nose wrinkles. He reaches down, tugging on your fluffy tail with a thoughtful expression. “That can stay, though. Cute.”

”Bend over the table, pup. Spread your legs, lemme see your cunt.” He orders, releasing your tail and taking a step back. Your hesitance irritates him, and his hand comes out to smack you across your face so hard that your head snaps to the side, your ears ringing. “Don’t make me say it again. I fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Your tail is tucked between your legs as you shift to lean over the table, those fluffy ears pressed down firmly against your head. Doesn’t bother Naoya. He kicks your feet apart, pulling your pants and underwear down in one tug. The tail is a little bit of an obstacle still, so he sighs and scratches behind your ears.

”C’mon now, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He coos, making sure he finds the spot behind your ear that has you pushing back against his hand. His tone is condescending, but that dumb puppy brain of yours can’t register that. He grins as your tail perks up and wags, showing you off to him. “That’s better. Lemme get a look at that pretty pussy.”

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect.

He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door.

”Hey! I’ll take her.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Naoya’s unpredictable.

It’s hard to settle into a routine with him. He can be easy to handle one moment, only to switch up at the next second. He’s never kind - that’s not the right word for him - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments. If you’re good, he’ll let you curl up at the foot of his bed. Sometimes he’ll even let you sit at his feet when he’s relaxing, petting your head absentmindedly.

Those moments are few and far between. For the most part, he’s cold. He doesn’t pay much attention to you unless he’s feeding you or if it’s play time.

He shows you the most attention when he wants to play. He’ll praise you, scratch behind those freshly cropped ears standing tall on your head and run his fingertips through the fur of your tail until it’s wagging fast enough that he knows you’ll be pliant and eager for anything he wants to do to you. You’d tried whining, begging, pleading… Anything just to get him to look at you and show you some affection, but you quickly learned that the only way you could guarantee something from him was to paw at the front of his pants until he’s twitching against your hand.

His choice of affection has a bit of a side effect, and you’re unlucky enough that Naoya notices it. All it takes is one little ‘good girl’ or a scratch on your head for you to be soaked, whining and rutting against any part of him you could reach. He loves feeling you wrapped around him, but he loves teasing you even more. So, naturally, as soon as realizes how desperate his touch makes you, he decides it would be a fun little game for him to see just how needy you could get.

He’s leaning back against the couch when he spots you padding over, that fluffy tail slowly picking up speed the closer he gets to you. He can’t help but chuckle when he spots you settling on the floor by his feet, a smirk spreading across his face when you rest your chin on his thigh. Your gaze flicks up to his face, a longing expression on your features. His hand comes down to pet your head, fingers scratching your scalp gently.

”You need something, girl?” He coos, tugging on one of your bandaged ears until you whimper, biting back a laugh when you lean into the touch regardless of the pain that comes with it. You’re always so eager to please, it drives him crazy.

“Need you, please.” You whine, your ears tilting back slightly, unable to press flat against your head due to the wrapping keeping them up so they heal pointed. He grins wolfishly at your words, yanking you by the collar until you’re straddling his thigh, a mischievous going in his eyes.

”Go on then, pup. I’m too tired to deal with you myself. You can handle it, can’t you?” He hums, giving your head a pat before crossing his arms behind his head as he leans back on the couch. You give him a curious little head tilt, confusion twisting your cute little face. He loves it when you give him that look - you’re just a dumb puppy, nothing more than entertainment for him. He can’t help but feel amused, shifting his leg so he can press his thigh more firmly against your core.

”You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure it out, puppy.” You seem to get the picture, a soft, needy sound rising in your throat as the hard muscle of his thigh presses against your cunt through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips start shifting on their own, rutting against him desperately. Your mouth falls open, artificially rounded canines digging into the flesh of your bottom lip.

Your hands come down to rest on your own thighs - you know better than to touch Naoya without asking, and you don’t want this to end so soon. Your nails press into your flesh, leaving indents on the surface of the skin. Naoya’s face is a mask of indifference. There’s no sign of enjoyment from him, the only hint that he isn’t completely unaffected by your actions is the tent forming beneath the fabric of his pants. You whine when you realize he isn’t even looking at you, staring over your shoulder to look over one of the paintings on the wall.

You want him inside of you, want his strong hands to grasp your thighs as he fucks into you. The thought alone has you panting, your head hanging as your tail starts to wag again, steady behind you as you grind against his thigh more harshly. Your breaths come out heavier, your cunt soaking through the fabric of your shorts to coat his own pants.

You’re so overwhelmed with your rapidly approaching orgasm, how good it feels to finally be this close to your owner that you don’t see his hand reaching for his phone until it’s too late. You yelp as your collar zaps you, the fur on your tail standing on end as the shock makes you spasm, your hips quickly pulling away from his thigh.

”I didn’t say you could cum, did I? Bad girl.” He hisses, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you across the floor, forcing you into your crate with a swift kick. He slams the door behind you, locking it before stepping back. “You can stay there for the rest of the night. If I hear you so much as fuckin’ squeak, you’re not getting let out for the rest of the week. Got it?”

You nod quickly, but that’s clearly not good enough for him. He taps at the screen of his phone a few times before pressing his thumb down for a longer period. The voltage is higher, and he doesn’t let up on shocking you until you drop against the blanket in your crate, your fingers twitching. He scoffs at the sight, letting go of the button.

”Pathetic. If I’m talking to you, I expect an answer. Surely you’re not so stupid you’ve forgotten how to use your words?”

”N-no. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll be quiet.” You whisper, your voice shaking slightly with the effort it takes you to hold back tears.

”Stupid mutt.” He grunts, fiddling with his trousers until he can free his cock. His jaw tenses in slight annoyance at how quickly that has you perking up, your eyes wide with interest like he’s holding a damn treat up for you. He steps closer to your crate, pressing his length down against the bars above your head. Naoya can’t help but laugh as you try to crane your head to get a taste of him, his eyes shining with amusement as your tongue laps between the gaps to catch his skin.

”Look at you. You were crying a second ago, and now you’re drooling like a bitch in heat? You are the single most pitiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.” He muses, letting out another chuckle at the whine that spills from your lips when he pulls away from the crate.

”Go to sleep.” He grunts as he tucks himself back into his trousers, his eyes trained on your as he takes a step back. “If you’re good enough, I might let you out for breakfast.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Naoya is wordless as he approaches your cage.You can tell from his narrowed, fox-like gaze that he hasn’t forgiven you from last night, his jaw set tight as if you hadn’t just made a small mistake. Naoya expected nothing but perfection from his pet, and it was something he made abundantly clear. He opens the door, his eyes narrowed in on your slumped over figure.

”Out.” The words are short and clipped, but firm, leaving no room to argue. It wasn’t a request, but a command. You weren’t stupid enough to ignore it.

He watches you crawl out of the cage, kneeling at his feet on the cold floor. You keep your gaze trained downwards, unable to meet his eyes. You look so pathetic it almost angers him, a crease forming between his brows as looks down at you. He slowly strips his clothes, his eyes locked onto you the entire time.

“Strip.” You listen, pulling your clothes off and adding them to his own pile on the floor. There’s no praise now, no attempts to get you wet enough to take him. He just pushes you down onto all fours before spitting directly onto your cunt as he forces his cock into your tight heat. It’s meant to be a punishment, but all it takes for you to get wet is the feeling of him stretching you out, your tail swaying side to side as his tip presses up against your cervix.

”Such a slut… Dripping as soon as you see cock. Bet it doesn’t even have to be mine, hmm? Could pass you around the whole clan and you’d gladly let each and every one of ‘em mount you until you were sore and dripping cum.” He spat, his hips rocking forward harshly. He builds up a steady pace, pounding into you brutally.

”Wouldn’t…” You manage to force out, brows furrowing as you try to rock back against his hips, your walls pulsing around his length. “Just you… want your pups.”

”Aww, that’s cute. You want me to breed you, girl? Is that it?” He lets out a cruel laugh, tugging on your tail to pull you back against him with each thrust, his cock brutally pounding into your tight cunt. “You think I’d let you carry my seed? That your bastard children could be sufficient heirs for the Zen’in clan? I’d never let you have puppies. Stupid fuckin’ bitch. Didn’t even realize I got you spayed? You just believe every little thing I tell you, huh?”

Fuck, he really likes the look of your tears. Nearly has him cumming from the way you look sobbing on his dick, the way you clench around him like you're trying to milk him dry despite how upset you are. It doesn't matter what he does to you, not when you're so forgiving. He knows he can say whatever he pleases and you'd still come running back to him, tail tucked between your legs like you were the one in the wrong.

He presses down between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest flat against the hard-wood floor as he keeps your ass in the air with his grip on your tail. With your back arched, the new angle allows him to fuck into you deeper, bullying himself into you without any regard for your pleasure. You were nothing more than something to use to him - a glorified fleshlight, at best. He only let you cum because of how tight you squeezed him when you did, how hot it was to see your dripping down his length.

This wasn’t about you right now - it was meant to be a punishment. You'd be lucky if he decided to let you cum in the following weeks, let alone today when he's still pissed off at you for almost breaking one of his rules.

His hips smack the fat of your ass with every thrust, low grunts spilling past his lips as he wraps your tail around his hand, smacking your thigh in frustration when you yelp at the discomfort that comes with it. He's increasingly glad with every pained whimper as his grip tightens that he decided not to dock your tail. It's so much better than a leash could ever be, forcing you back onto his imposing length everytime it gets too much for you and you try to crawl away.

“M'gonna cum.” He groans, harshly forcing your upper body further against the floor as he leans his weight on the hand pushing you down, slick sounds filling the room as he thrusts himself brutally in and out of your twitching pussy. He yanks on your tail, pulling you back against him as he cums with a grunt, his cock twitching inside of your abused cunt. He ruts his hips into you shallowly as he rides out his high before pulling out, smacking your ass once before standing up, ignoring your pleas to let you cum.

“Stupid mutt.” He spits out, rolling you onto your back with his foot, pressing it down against your stomach to hold you down. He spits on your face, a huff of laughter leaving him as your nose wrinkles. “I've been too good to you. Made you think you have a say.”

“You are a toy.” He continues, pulling his foot away with you before moving to gather his clothes. He pulls them on, leaving you panting and leaking his cum on the floor. “Something for me to use when I get bored.”

He makes his way to the door, shooting one last glance at you over his shoulder. “The quicker you learn that, the better.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

so happy ur back missed seeing u on my dash 🖤

"So well behaved!" Alexei gushed lifting Cow and holding her at eye level, "A charming little lady!"

"She has to be to come to work with me," you hum, unphased. Hoping one of the people lurking around the street gets a photo of the large, grizzled Russian man fussing over the cute little dog. Catnip. These photos are catnip online. They make women go nuts and people look approachable.

And Cow, bless her little heart is just happy to make a friend. She likes people.

"Her name?" He asked between kissy faces.

"Cow," you answer smiling.

"Cow?"

You nod and shrug, "I tried to call her Bella but... Cow, Short for Moo Cow just kinda stuck."

He laughed, a full belly laugh with his head thrown back as he hands you back your fluffy little dog, "So cute it should not be allowed," he declared.

"And she will use it to extort you for treats," you caution.

"And I will pay," he said, opening the door for you to help you inside.

______________

"Alexei is rehabbing, Yelena and Ava have a "Just like us" push cooking and now- now"

"Now you need to give it a rest," Bucky said, proffering a bottle of water. It was a simple play but a good one making photos of Alexei circulate just... being a guy. Talking to a young woman on the street and admiring her little dog.

Sure. It came out fast the you worked for them, like you knew it would. But- it didn't taint the image when later you posted a picture on your own socials of Alexei feeding Cow a treat with the caption "New work besties"- it only made it sweeter.

No one knew you had a dog under your desk until your third day at work.

"Listen if someone digs up footage of Red Guardian killing a pet or something on accident-"

"Propaganda," Bucky pointed out, "he was a vehicle for it. They'd never let that circulate. Or survive. Even if it did, you could handle it tomorrow."

You nod and take the water and taking a drink before putting Cow on your lap. Your sticking points were Bob and Walker. Do you risk it and rely on ripples or-

"Y/N," Bucky chuckled, "Just go crash for a while." Tomorrow, Bucky'd figure out putting a room for you here. Give you a space to sleep when you were working some serious overtime for them- like now. You look wrecked and he doesn't want all your hard work to go to shit when stories started to circulate that they were working you to death.

Another nod and you shift Cow to hold her under your arm like a football- the little dog was unphased, aside from a tail wag when you kiss the top of her head. "See you tomorrow."

"Cow, too?" He asked, stroking her head.

"We're a team, Bucky," you tell him. "At least she can't snitch me out when I rant about things."

"I'll get her a badge," he snorted.

[dark-and-kawaii]

but who gives the best head 👀

Me. Just kidding just kidding!!!! Hmmmmm ooooh listen, I already know who gives the best head and it’s almost tied for me soooooo I’m going to include the second one I think in my opinion would give great head!!!! And yes Astarion would give AMAZING head but listen there’s so much of him already. So *clears throat* the one who give the best head in my opinion issssssssss *drum rolls*

Warning: Mentions Of Halsin In His Bear Form

♡ Halsin definitely is number one in giving head, like there’s no way he’s not. There’s two different versions of him for crying out loud!!!

Halsin in his elven form is so precise while going down on you, it’s almost like he's taking mental notes of what you like, and is always cataloguing your moans. The way his eyes look up at you time to time from his position between your legs, and the way he smiles when you run your fingers through his hair, is enough to make you melt into his mouth.

The way Halsin’s tongue drags against your folds, and the way he presses his mouth to your core is like he's savoring your taste, and he always takes his time, never rushing things unless he’s pent up. He’ll nip at your clit, loving the way you buck for him, loves to watch you react. At times he gets a little rough of course, how could he not when you look the way you do, biting down hard on you to make you scream his name is a symphony to him, as if you’re calling out to him to take you now~.

Halsin just knows how to work his mouth against you, the flat of his tongue working over your clit with slow, long movements, or quick, short ones, alternating until your hips are jerking off whatever surface he has you on. Until your fingers are digging into his scalp, and he's chuckling against your cunt, making you shiver and groan, his eyes closing momentarily to enjoy the moment.

Halsin in his bear form is ravenous, like a starved animal, like he was made for eating you out, and always makes sure to lick every inch of you, even if you cum multiple times.

The way his large tongue drags against your folds, he acts like it’s his last drink in the world, and the way his sharp teeth lightly grazes over your skin, oh it’s enough to have you crying out, fingers digging into the fur of his neck.

But it’s not just the way his bear tongue drags against your slit and clit, oh no, it’s also the way his long tongue slides up inside you, lapping at your gummy walls and curling within you, pressing against those sweet spots of yours. Treating you like some honey pot he’s desperate to taste, desperate to eat and finish whole. It always makes you cry out for him, screaming his name, begging him to stop because you can't take any more. But he'll keep going because he knows you can take it, knows you will be so satisfied once you’re convulsing around his tongue, your walls gripping his tongue as if it were his own cock.

You aren’t getting away from this man, not until his face or fur is covered in your juices and he's satisfied with his work, knowing that you’ve cum multiple times.

♡ Zevlor is being added to this as well because I just know that man would make you feel so loved. As if you were the only one in the world. His horns scrapping against your thighs would feel so good~ they wouldn’t ever hurt you because the man takes his time licking at your folds. His tongue pumping in and out of you with such care, it almost feels as if his tongue is dancing within you. The way he makes you shiver with delight, hells this man knows what he’s doing.

Since it’s been so long for him as well he’ll take extra time and care to make sure he tastes every part of you, and the way he gives your sensitive little clit a kiss before gently biting down on it <333 Zevlor, it almost makes it seem like he’s worshipping your body.

On special nights he’ll feel a little bold and add his tail to the mix, allowing himself to enjoy the way you moan his name as it flickers against your bud while his tongue soaks up your arousal deep from within your folds. He just adores the way you grip at his horns, and the way your back arches off the surface, it makes him feel so alive and like he’s doing something right. Beyond happy he can satisfy your needs and will always do whatever he can to make sure you cum.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i don't really wanna fight, 'cause nobody's gonna win | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary | A little slice of domesticity wasn't ever going to be enough to cover the stress of the story unfolding on your desk, but it was worth a shot right?

Chapter Warnings | Mentions of drugs and the drug trade, work frustrations, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie, dirty talk, we ride this man like our LIFE depends on it and some ANGST (I'm sorry, it had to happen sometime.)

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | OOOOOF okay we're back with these two. Real life has been kicking my ass so I'm sorry this took so long - but we're moving into the tail end of this now so prepare yourselves for even more drama! Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting for this - I hope you enjoy it. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

The words on the deed to the drug den in town are all forming into one - you’re not actually sure they’re in the English language anymore. You’ve been staring at the pages for what feels like a full week, even if you’d only spread them out for reading on your desk this morning. You don’t know what to do. There is, of course, the obvious option, of walking right up to their front door and asking what the hell is going on, but the more you dig, the more you think there’s something bigger going on here.

You pour over your notes, trying to make sense of it all. It was nothing to do with Tyler Johnson, but it had something to do with his family, that was for sure. There’s no way that this whole thing would have been brushed under the rug and dealt with by the police saying ‘oh well, we don’t know’ if there wasn’t something incriminating behind it all. You tried not to think about that possibly meaning your dad was implicated somewhere along the line.

Instead of sitting around and feeling useless, considering the words on the page weren’t leading you anywhere at all, you tidy up your desk, stick your head around your managers door to tell her you were heading out for the story, and you get in your car and drive.

They lead such dull lives, is all you can really think at this point. The sun is setting and it’s finally starting to cool a little. The thought process had been simple, if you weren’t going to catch them in the act on paper, you would have to catch them in the act for real - whatever that act might be.

You’d started with Tyler’s dad, following behind him as he went about mayoral business, driving from his office to some meeting in town and then back again. You’d waited an hour in the parking lot to see if he moved again, but gave up after a while. Deciding on following Tyler’s brother instead - but he’d been more of the same. You’d found him getting into his car at work once the day was done, driving to the grocery store and then going home. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Thinking about it, what would you even do if you did find them doing something? Tyler’s brother getting a package handed to him down a dark alley - there’s no way to get any proof, you don’t have a camera, and no-one’s going to believe you against them. The more you sit there, the more you think maybe you should have taken the story at face value, published it and moved on.

You suppose that these kinds of operations take time and patience - two things you were running seriously low on by now. You’re thinking of all the time’s Javi must have needed to do this - sitting around in a car waiting to catch someone doing something and wondered how he’d lasted so long. You weren’t made for this kind of work.

Sighing to yourself, you turn the key in the ignition and head home, trying not to let the frustration bubble over. You just had to wait. Bide your time. Surely somewhere along the line you’d catch someone doing something.

“You look stressed.”

You look at Javi through your eyelashes, taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of you on the counter. Your parents were taking their two week annual vacation - some place near the coast in Florida. You remember going when you were little, playing in the sand and swimming. They’d invited you this year but now you were older, it didn’t hold quite the same amount of charm as it used to, so you’d opted to stay at home.

The upside to not getting to lounge in the sun for two weeks was definitely this though. Javier Peña, hunched over the hob, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, cooking dinner for you. It was dangerous to think about how domestic it was, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. There was no-one to lie to about why you were late home from work for now, no need to rush through whatever it was that the two of you were doing.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t need to be sorry,” He smiles at you, picking up his beer bottle to drink from, “You want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, “It’s alright, just stuff at work.”

“In all my years of working with journalists,” He speaks, stirring the pot of sauce in front of him, “I don’t think any of them were ever as stressed as you.”

“I just care about my work.”

“So did they,” He counters, picking a strand of spaghetti from the pot to test to see if it’s cooked, “Just trying to say there isn’t a story out there worth getting this worked up over.”

“I appreciate it,” You mumble, “But can we not talk about work?”

He holds his hands up in surrender, focusing his attention on dishing up the food - spaghetti with tomato sauce. It’s simple and you know it’s probably the limit of his cooking ability outside of being able to grill meat on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. You sit at the dining table and eat together, talking about nothing really, just enough to fill the silence. Even though he cooked, he insists on clearing up and packaging the leftovers for you to eat tomorrow.

You sit and watch TV on the couch and when it gets late enough and your head starts to rest on his shoulder, Javi asks if you want to go to bed.

“I do,” You answer, “But not to sleep.”

So he slowly leads you up the stairs and into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You settle yourself under your sheets, pushing them back on the other side for him as he takes off everything he’s wearing apart from his underwear and gets into bed with you. He shuffles you around so your back in pressed to his front, his big hands wandering from your hips up to your chest, where he gently cups one of your tits in his hands over the shirt you’re wearing.

You can feel his mouth trailing kissing up your shoulder until he reaches the delicate skin behind your ear, the tickle of his facial hair there making goosebumps rise on your skin, regardless of how warm it is under your sheets.

“What do you want?” He whispers softly, snaking his free arm under your neck so the side of your face is pillowed against it.

You don’t answer, you just take hold of his wrist, dragging his hand from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. You let his hand go then, feeling his big palm cup you through the material, “Like this?” He asks, teeth nipping at your ear lobe.

“No,” You shake your head, “Under.”

That big hand drags up just a little, fingers finding the waistband again, dipping below this time. He tuts into your ear when he finds you bare, having not bothered with underwear when you’d changed out of your work clothes.

His hand is warm against your skin as it envelops you again, fingers dipping ever so slightly between the folds of your pussy to find you already wet, it doesn’t take much at all when he’s around.

Fingers dragging through the slick, up to circle your clit, he speaks again, “Like this?” He asks, feather-light touches of his fingers making you gasp.

“Y-yeah,” You choke out, “Just like that.”

So that’s what he does - let’s you rest your head against his arm, lazily rolling his finger across that bundle of nerves like he has all the time in the world for making you feel good. It’s slow, the only punctuation to his fingers are the moans he lets out into your ear whenever he pushes his hips against the plush of your ass, his bulge prominent against the clothes that are separating you.

“I want you to come for me,” He whispers gently a little while later, teeth biting gently into the skin of your shoulder, “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

You nod your head, unable to speak through the short, sharp gasps that the friction between your legs is drawing out from you. He speeds up a little, lets his finger add more pressure there. He lets you roll your hips, chasing at the high that is just there, coiling in your tummy. Your body starts to shake, thighs clamping down on his hands as he brings you over the edge.

“Fuck yeah,” He rasps into your ear, “So fucking pretty when you come for me, mi querida.”

Through the haze of pleasure, you can feel him rolling you over, pressing your back into the sheets. He’s settling between your thighs, pulling your shorts off altogether, but you don’t want it like this, so you press a palm to his warm chest to stop him.

“I want…” You trail off, “I think I want to be on top.”

You watch his eyebrows raise a little but he doesn’t protest, because of course he doesn’t, he simply lies himself back down on his side of the bed and waits for you. You let yourself straddle his thighs, marvelling just a little at the bulge of his underwear, before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband to drag them just far enough down his thighs to let his cock spring free, resting on his lower stomach.

Shuffling up his thighs a little, you lower yourself, letting your soaked folds drag across his length whilst your mouth moves up to suckle at the skin of his neck. You can feel his hands on the globes of your ass, helping to drag you up and down his cock.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks as you moan when the head of his cock brushes against your still-sensitive clit.

You don’t have any words, so you press yourself up, palms against his chest as you lift your hips just enough for him to reach between you, base of his cock fisted in his hand, to nudge at the weeping hole of your cunt. He holds it there for you as you slowly start to sink down onto him, moaning with your head thrown back at the stretch of taking him inside. When you reach the bottom, feeling him sucked right into the depths of you, you stay still, rolling your hips a little, feeling him so deep inside you.

Javi brings his hands to your hips, looking up at you as he guides your movements, slow forwards movements matched with even slower movements backwards, until the two of you are panting together.

You push yourself back, letting your arms fall behind you onto his knees, which have come up to rest against your backside, slowly starting to lift off him until he’s almost all the way out of the tight heat of your cunt, then you slide back down onto him, finding a rhythm of bouncing up and down on his cock.

Javi moves one of his hands from your hips, letting the flat palm run up your stomach, through the valley of your tits to lightly grip at the base of your neck. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holds his hand there, but you can feel the effect it has on you, pussy clenching around his length as you continue to bounce up and down on him.

“Look so fucking pretty like this,” He manages to choke out between moans, “Like you were made to be right here bouncing on my cock.”

“I-I think I’m g-gonna come again.” You hiss, feeling that familiar tightening in your tummy.

“Yeah?” He goads, but not unkindly, “You gonna come around my cock for me?”

To help you get there, Javi starts to thrust up into you, hand still at the base of your neck, hitting into your perfectly on your downward motion to fill you right to your depths, making your orgasm hit you head on. You feel yourself tighten around him, body collapsing forward to rest against his chest as he fucks you through the aftershocks of your climax, gripping onto your ass to keep you spread so he can find his own high, thrusting a handful of times before he’s stilling inside you, spilling himself inside with moans right into your ear.

He slips out of you as he softens, shifting you so you’re led down, both catching your breath.

“Sorry, I should have asked about that.” He mumbles, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s talking about coming inside you.

“It’s okay,” You say, turning your head to smile at him, “Although it does mean I have to go to the bathroom now.”

You drag yourself up onto all fours onto your bed, dragging yourself to the door to cover yourself in your robe before you leave Javi in your room to head to the bathroom.

He doesn’t know why he does it. In hindsight, it was out of order, but when you close the door behind you, he can’t help himself. He stands up, pulls his underwear back up and puts the rest of his clothes back on. Then he sits down on your edge of the bed and gingerly opens the top drawer of your bedside table.

There’s nothing much of note in there, a few lip balms and an old notebook, but that’s it. He opens the bottom one next, which is much more full, mainly with notebooks and sheets of paper. He knows he shouldn’t, but he reaches in and picks the first up, flicking it open to a random page somewhere in the middle, running his thumb across a loose sheet of paper before his eyes circle in on what the paper actually is.

It’s a newspaper article, reporting on Escobar’s death. When Javi looks underneath the paper there are notes written in your handwriting, detailing parts of the story that are interesting. He flicks to another page, another article about Escobar dying, with more of your handwritten notes. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to take hold of his throat.

He puts that notebook on the bed, reaches in and picks another up, flicking through to find more of the same - articles about the entire Escobar case, more handwritten notes - some written in red ink that only ever say his name with a question mark, like you’re asking yourself if he was responsible for the ill-reported heroics. Javi is too caught up in flicking through that he forgets about your return, letting you catch him red-handed when you come back through the door.

“What are you doing?” You ask, making him look up.

Your eyes are wide, like you’re shocked to find him with your notebooks in his lap.

“What’s all this?” He asks, instead of answering your question.

You surge forward, grabbing the notebook from his lap, slapping it shut, picking up the other one and then shoving them back in the drawer, “Did you go through my things?” He can tell from your tone that you’re worked up.

“Why do you have all of that?” Javi asks, standing up from the bed to take some steps away from you.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Well then tell me what it is.” He’s getting more annoyed as the moments go past.

“It was for my degree,” You say, shifting from foot-to-foot, “I don’t understand what the problem is?”

“The problem is, it’s all fucking lies!” He runs a hand over his face, more annoyed at himself for shouting at you than anything else, “It’s all fucking lies and you believe it.”

He watches as your face drops, he can see the glassing over of your eyes, “I-” You try to speak, “I’m sorry?” It’s more of an offering, like you don’t know what else to do.

“All of that shit?” He asks, pointing to the now closed drawer, “Fucking propaganda for this country to seem like it had control, when all it fucking did was make everything worse.”

“Javi, please,” You beg now, taking a step towards him with your hands open in surrender, “Why don’t you sit down and take a breath?”

He can feel himself shaking his head, stepping backwards until he can feel the handle of your door, twisting it to open. He thinks he’s saying sorry, telling you that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and away from you, almost running from the house and into his truck.

It’s not until he’s halfway to home that he can feel that panic take over, pulling over on the side of the road, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. He takes some deep breaths, trying to understand why his brain has gone from 0-100 so quickly, and all he can think of is that you’re just like everyone else in this damn town, thinking that he was a hero, that he’d played his part properly, correctly, in bringing that bastard down. I’d the wondering about what you’d think of him if you knew what he’d really done, the amount of blood actually on his hands, the fact he wasn’t here there when Murphy shot the bastard.

It’s that feeling of inadequacy that haunt him in bed that night, led against the pillows, other side cold and empty when all he wishes is that he’d stayed, let you curl into him so that he could get at least a few hours of rest. Even though he never stays the night, always leaving you with a press of lips to your head, the small hours of the morning where you’re sleeping against him are the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever had.

So, staring at his ceiling, red numbers from his clock staring him down as the hours pass, all he can think about it what the fuck he’s going to do, how he’s going to explain that this has nothing to do with you and what it had to do with your degree, and everything to do with the way he thinks if you knew exactly what had happened, outside of what the American press has told you, you’d probably hate him.

[urprettylittlething]

Breeding Experiment

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Another part of CursedKitty universe! After a few very late nights and some glasses of wine I present to you a NSFW oneshot drabble thing where they fuck and want to breed Kitty :) I warn you this is my first time trying to seriously write some smut let alone a breeding kink so i apologise profusely in advance if this sucks, do let me know how it is <3 (and thank you to the lovely person to suggest breeding link <3) If you want to send in your own ideas for Kitty, my inbox is open! <3

summary - Gojo and Geto found out they can fuck you, can they breed you?

warnings - Dubcon/Noncon-ish? Kitty is having a pretty good time but they didnt ask for consent and she doesn’t really understand, female anatomy, they call Reader 'Kitty' and 'Experiment' a few times, cum, eating Kitty out, smut, breeding kink, vague Yandere vibes, they’re a little mean, (let me know if i need to add more please)

genre - Oneshot Drabble thing

wc - 1.3K

Edit - spelling and grammar fixed 09/10/23

Gojo was leaning back against his headboard, a few pillows stuffed underneath him. His legs were spread in front of him, knees bent so he could dig his feet into the mattress below him. Kitty was in his lap, her back resting against his hard chest. Her little tail was wound tight around her waist to keep it from getting crushed between the two of them.

The only thing she was wearing was a long and clean shirt, given to her by Satoru. She wasn’t wearing any underwear as him and Suguru deemed it unnecessary. She was for their eyes only so it didn't matter too much to them, and Kitty didn't seem to mind either. She looked similar to how the two of them first found her, but now she was cleaned, properly scrubbed and groomed to their satisfaction. 

Her Kitty ears were pressed flat against her hair as she pressed against Gojo. Each leg of hers had been hoisted up and over Gojos, keeping them hooked back and her pussy exposed. 

‘She’s such a dumb little thing.’ Gojo thought to himself. There she was, squirming against him, trying to close her legs. Not even thinking of just lifting her legs up so she could close them. No matter, it made his job so much easier of keeping her upper half restrained. 

He had wrapped his hands around her wrists and kept them tucked against her own chest. ‘And what a tease too.’ All of Kittys squirming had riled him up, getting him hot and bothered the longer she unintentionally grinded her ass against his hard cock. 

Suguru on the other hand had been between her legs for just over twenty minutes now. Eating her out like it was his last meal while she mewled, gasped and cried against Gojo. 

If Gojo was being completely honest, he didn't expect him and Suguru to take it this far. But they couldn't help their naturally curious nature.

Especially after the first bath they had been forced to give her. The both of them had quickly figured out just how little she knew, or understood for that matter. Rendering her useless to do most things by herself when she didn't understand them. 

Anyway, it was only natural for their eyes to wander, allowing themselves to take in the full image of her nude self. 

It shocked them a little to see just how much she resembled a human girl. She was equipped with full anatomy (atleast to their eyes on the outside), except the ears and tail of course. So it was only natural, the curious human nature of them, to think about whether… well… whether she worked or not. 

It had been around two weeks since then and in Gojos opinion he would say the two of them had held out pretty well, given his inability to be patient most times. But alas, here they were now.

Suguru groaned from where he was slurping Kitty’s juices from between her legs. “From all the curses I’ve had to swallow, she has to be the sweetest.”

Gojo gave a huff in response, a tad salty that he didn't get to go first, but it's whatever. The view he had been blessed with almost made up for it anyway. 

And of course poor Kitty seemed overwhelmed already, her chest heaving, body hot and sweaty, her ears flattened and twitching against her head and eyes half lidded. Her pouty mouth open, gasping and mewling incoherent noises at the pleasure Sugurus tongue was forcing her to experience for the first time. 

Every flick against the sensitive little nub causes her hips to jerk, mewling even louder. Every wiggle of his tongue inside her caused her to squirm even harder against Gojo as she cried out. 

“Poor thing,” Gojo murmurs, “I doubt she even understands what we're doing to her. Atleast shes enjoying it.” 

Suguru finally pulls his face away from her pussy, rising up to kneel on his legs from between hers. His mouth and chin were covered in Kittys juices. He starts pulling off his clothing, using his shirt to wipe around his mouth. 

As he was pulling off his last article of clothing, Kitty was starting to squirm again. Making little noises and whines that neither of the two really understood, not quite understanding why the stimulation had all of a sudden stopped. 

They had quickly figured out that she couldn't communicate with them in any language. Tugging at their shirts and whining at them to indicate she needed something. Although they had learned that she could understand them, to a certain extent. 

Gojo hushed her and leaned down to press gentle kisses against her exposed neck. “Shh.. Calm down Kitty. Suguru is going to take real good care of you now.” She seemed to calm a little at that. 

Suguru leaned forward, now on his knees between them. With Kittys forcibly spread legs, courtesy of Gojo, on either side of him it allowed him to place his hands on the flesh of her thighs. The tip of his throbbing cock now poking and teasing at her little hole. 

“Should be nice and easy, Kitty. Nice and wet, such a good girl for us, huh?” Suguru said, beginning to push his way into her tight hole, loosened up a little from his tongue. Kitty’s walls fluttered and pulsed around him while he bowed his head and groaned. 

“God, for a curse this pussy is tight. Warm too.” He muttered as he inched himself further into her heat. 

“Bet she could take both of us. Such a dirty little kitty we have on our hands, enjoying Sugurus cock so much, aren't you?” Gojo teased as she mewled and moaned and pawed at them. Her head was tilted back and resting against his shoulder, a small dribble of drool escaping down the side of her mouth. He couldn't blame her, after all, she had bigger priorities to worry about right now. 

“Could fill this pussy up so well. Breed her like the bitch she is.” Suguru groaned, furrowing his brows as he began pumping in and out of her tight walls. 

“You think we could breed her?” Gojo perked up a little in interest. The thought was certainly entertaining given the throbbing in his pants. 

“If we stuff her full enough, probably.” He grunted in response. Beginning to thrust his hips into Kittys even harder. Wet, slapping sounds filled the room they were in, almost louder than the little curse situated in Gojos arms. 

She began to pant and whine, droplets of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she squinted, her tongue poking out from between her lips. They both could take a good guess as to what was about to happen. 

Suguru began to fuck into her even harder while Gojo reached down with one hand, the other keeping a hold of her wrists, to flick and rub and pinch at her little clit poking out from all the pleasure.

Kitty screeched and cried as her ears trembled and her tail shuddered from where it was wrapped tightly around her. Her orgasm overwhelmed her, causing her pussy to tighten and gush with even more juices. Making the sounds from between them sound even wetter.

Suguru threw his head back, groaning as he emptied his load deep inside her as Gojo leaned down to whisper into her ear.

“We're going to breed you, you’d want that right? Have your tummy round and full with our child, all for you to look after. Stuffed full with our cum, our perfect little experiment, huh?” His fingers are still rubbing and circling the throbbing nub, making her cry and tremble and squirt more of her juices.

He only stopped when Suguru had recovered and began pulling himself out of Kitty’s fluttering walls. Both pausing to stare at the way his cum oozed out from her little pussy.

Kitty’s eyes fluttered while her ears relaxed against her hair, closing her eyes in bliss and seemingly exhausted. 

Suguru and Gojo looked up at each other after a moment of silence between them and what had just occurred before he spoke up.

“Come on Kitty, my turn.”

[stubz]

warning - bad guy wants to kill people and threatens to eat them + ship invasion

General Morbius was one an accomplished soldier. He was ruthless to his enemies, loyal to those who appreciated him, and willing to do anything. He was made for war. The coalition was not, it was made for peace and thus the general was rarely if ever used.

He had been fine with this...until he rejected as captain of the main ship. A tighalax by the name of Nox was chosen instead. Nox was not ruthless, was too hesitant to make the hard decisions, was a runt.

Morbius would not let a runt replace him.

That's when he met Sine Macula, a ruler who stood for everything the coalition did but was not afraid of getting their hands dirty to do so. Morbius respects that and so he fed him information. He got away with this for several months until found out...but not caught. There was not enough proof to charge him with treason and so he laid low. His schedule became tight and rigid, work then straight home. No dawdling or talking...well not to anyone he thought were a real threat.

The human chef from the west side cafeteria, the human who was head of sanitation, the human from the youngling centre, these were the only ones he talked to. They were the only one's who understood him and listened to him. At least that's what he thought.

He had a strange feeling about why the captain's first mate had reduced the amount of tails/watchers on him and so he did some digging. Oh how he longed to rip those filthy humans apart with his teeth...how he longed to watch the life leave their eyes as they gurgled out pleas through blood...

He let them into his home, he let them know of his thoughts and desires, he told them details and secrets, he let them meet his family-touch his family with those filthy dirty hands!!

He has calls to make.

.

The general cruelly smiles as he walks through the halls and sees his former allies escorted into the cargo bay, a temporary jail until they see who is worthy to join and who is to die.

His grin widens as he steps into the command center to see the Captain wrestled to the ground along with the first mate. A muzzle is shoved into the tighalax's mouth. A shock collar is strapped around the petronlic's neck. How lovely.

Growls and curses follow him as he turns around to continue to enjoy the show. He sees dozens of his new soldiers subdue an orc with tasers and guns loaded with rubber bullets. He hopes Fenrir will see his side and join, the orc will be a wonderful soldier.

Disgust crosses his face as he sees the ships tech supports throuple make the most offensive and crude gestures to him as they're dragged to the cargo bay. How Quip ended up Glip and Kal he'll never know.

..

"So we have everyone?"

"Not yet General, we're missing 30."

"30? How was I not made aware of 30 missing crew members??" he sneers grabbing the soldier by the shoulder.

"They weren't high priority-!"

"Well they are now since you lost them! Who did you lose?!"

"Th-the youngling centre sir!"

"...the youngling centre?" he whispers.

"Y-yes, sir."

"...you lost the youngling centre? The very centre run by the disgusting humans who betrayed me?"

"Well find them right away sir-!"

"You have two hours or I'll be using your bones as the broth for my diner tonight." he releases the soldier who sprints away to his team.

...

Kim knew she was going to die if they were found. The younglings would be most likely safe, Max too if he didn't fight back, but her? She would be killed.

When Captain asked her to spy on Morbius she did so without really thinking of the danger. She wasn't going anywhere dangerous, she would just talk to him whenever she him in the ship. Just talking, easy!

But then he actually opened up to her and that's when she realized how dangerous he actually was. The 'jokes', the wishes, the cracks that let her see who he really was...it scared her. And she couldn't do anything but grit her teeth and smile.

She was still safe though. They never met off the ship. She rarely actually talked about herself, he did all the talking, she never let anything slip.

But Morbius had still found out. He had found out, played along, and now the ship has been taken over.

They've done this before, her and Max, and therefore already had a plan. Lock the door, close the blinds, turn off the lights, hide in the supply room in the secret room and block the door. No one make a sound.

Hours pass and they do their best to keep the children quiet. Do their best to take their minds off the shouts, blasts, and shots fired with whispered stories and reassurances.

By the fifth hour, she knows because Max counted to keep himself calm, all is quiet. Kim hates it. She wants to leave, she can't breathe, her heart is too loud, she-

The tiny door opens.

Standing there before the group of 30 is a youngling. Standing between them and their fate is Morando. The General's son.

The youngling's mouth opens.

....

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Morbius roars, sirens blaring throughout the ship nearly drowning out his voice.

"Sir! There is a fire in the youngling centre!" a soldier screams directing his comrades towards the fire.

"AND WHY ARE YOU PUTTING IT OUT?! WE'RE BLOWING THIS SHIP UP THE SECOND WE LEAVE!!"

"Your son is there sir!"

General Morbius is many things. A killer, a soldier, a liar, a betrayer, but in that moment he was only a father. And fathers' love their children.

"Kill the one who was supposed to watch him. All available soldiers with me. If my son dies I will skin you all and eat you whilst you still breathe."

General Morbius loves his child and if his child dies he will kill everyone and anyone who contributed to it.

.....

General Morbius loves his child. Morbius loves his child. He would kill for him. Die for him. And in this case forgive him.

The fire was a diversion. His son was not in any danger. His son was tricked by the disgusting humans.

Morando had found them while looking in the supply room for a toy to play with after having given his escort the slip. His son had intended to alert him, call for reinforcements. But the humans had used their silver tongues to trick him.

One last meal they said. Humans were given one last meal before defeat, before death. Morando had seen no issue with this, he respected Kim and Max, they had given him much fun and amusement.

The final meal involved fire but since the centre's kitchen was partially destroyed they asked to use Fure, a fyreian. Morando agreed once again.

They cooked, involving all the younglings, even Morando. They sat down together and ate, inviting Morando, giving him his own plate. Kim begged him to let her tell one last tale before capture, he allowed.

The comradery, a warm meal, a tale catering towards his son's taste...the humans were not as foolish nor soft as he had thought.

They lulled the youngling into a false sense of security before capturing him. Tying him up, his son. Gagging him, his child. Carrying him like a sack over their shoulder, his flesh and blood. Setting the fire and leaving Morando's shawl just outside the door to make it look like he was in there, trapped, burning...a brilliant plan.

With how little soldiers there were in the cargo bay they managed to sneak in and free their crew mates. How the orcs, rextalians, tighalaxes, and other apex species fought.

It was a swift defeat. They had taken control of the ship whilst he was distracted by the fire. They had the armory now. They had called in reinforcements. They had Morando. What else could he do but surrender?

Humans are so much crueler than others give them credit for. A species who have mastered trickery to such a degree that younglings are not even safe from them.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Nami vs Whitebeard for the child. That’s all I can think of now after reading the new Little Lucky Au upload 👀😭

This was supposed to be cute/funny, but then I got carried away and made it crucial to the plot of the Little Lucky AU. Oops. This takes place sometime after Marineford but before the timeskip.

Also Thatch is alive and well here because I said so and as a fanfic writer it is my right to engage in a little bit of friendly necromancy when I see fit.

Decisions Made

4.1k words

Nami didn’t like this one bit. She hated it, really, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. She was on a ship sitting across the strongest man in the world and had to play nice lest she makes you upset.

As much as she was glad that Luffy had been able to successfully save his brother, she was not happy about Ace using this as an opportunity to finally succeed in bringing you over to his family. It had been a couple of days since the Marineford incident, and as soon as both crews had the chance to recover from the brutal battle, Ace had apparently set out to track them down.

Luffy was quick to agree to Ace’s proposal to pay Whitebeard’s crew a visit, promising that there would be a party to celebrate the successful rescue mission. Nami knew better though, she knew that this was much more about getting you on board the Moby Dick than the celebration. There was nothing she could do about it, though. Luffy had already decided on it, and you were so excited to meet Ace’s brothers that there was no stopping it.

The party itself was about as lively as one would expect it to be with a crew so large, it had been a struggle to keep track of where you were at any given moment. It felt like you were being swept away by a different crew member every other second, and Luffy telling her not to worry about it was not helping.

The feast they’d hosted wasn’t too bad. Well, the food was spectacular, but the relieving part was that you were easy to keep track of during it. You’d made yourself comfortable on Ace’s lap the second he sat down, and he did not give any of his brother’s a chance to “get a turn”. Nami would have preferred you to be seated with them, but she could at least settle for this since you were only a few meters away at best.

Currently, she was seated across the deck from where Whitebeard’s massive throne was. While the others were at least trying to make small talk with the emperor, she was quietly watching you to make sure nothing funny happened.

Humorously, the “person” you’d been most excited to meet was Kotatsu, some large wild cat that was a part of Ace’s crew before it disbanded. The second Ace realized that your love for cats extended beyond your pet Magnolia, he was quick to tell you all about Kotatsu to try and entice you to come with him for a visit. His plan worked on you flawlessly, but fortunately her and Sanji were able to stop him before he snuck off with you. 

While she had been a little concerned about Kotatsu lashing out at you after seeing how scary he looked, your seemingly endless cat charm worked on him just as well as it did on every other feline you’d come across. The overgrown lynx was happily purring up a storm on your lap while you lavished him with attention. 

Magnolia has not been taking her loss of attention very well and was sat at Nami’s feet glaring at Kotatsu like she was planning to eat him. Her tail was whipping back and forth in irritation, and her claws were digging into the floorboards. 

She was grateful that the cat was keeping you in place at least, every single one of Ace’s brothers have been trying to entice you away from him, but the efforts were all in vain. You were in kitty heaven and you weren’t about to move from it. If nothing else, it was funny to see these people getting snubbed by you in favor of a cat.

A door opened, and Nami recognized the ship’s head chef making a beeline for you. Thatch had been trying his hardest to bond with you, and both of his hands were full with his latest effort.

Thatch dropped a food bowl on the ground, piled with whole fish for Kotatsu. He immediately perked up and sniffed the air. There was a brief pause before he got up to go dig in to the food he was offered. You pouted at being abandoned by your newest cat friend, but Thatch was quick to take the opportunity presented to him.

“Hey there, Lucky!” He ruffled your hair with his free hand, “I thought you might want some dessert.” The chef lowered his other hand, revealing a small plate with cookies stacked onto it.

Your eyes lit up and you smiled widely, eagerly taking the plate from him, “These look yummy! Thank you, Uncle Thatch!” 

The second this crew heard you refer to Ace as “Uncle Ace”, everyone else had insisted that they were now also your uncles. Ace agreed, and since you hung onto every word out of his mouth, that meant you agreed too. This fact made Nami huff. These people were weird.

Thatch grinned triumphantly and smartly scooped you up into his arms before Kotatsu could come back and curl up on you again. There wasn’t a single protest out of you, seeing as that you were happily munching on cookies. 

Nami could hear Sanji grumbling next to her, followed by the sound of his lighter flicking on. Again. He’s been chain smoking like mad since they got on board.

The door he had come out of before opened again, this time with Ace and Marco exiting. So that’s where Ace had gone. Nami was suspicious when he abruptly vanished a while ago, and that feeling only doubled when she saw how serious their faces were. Just what were they talking about?

They diverged paths, with Marco leisurely making his way to Whitebeard, while Ace bounded over to you and Thatch. A smile had been plastered over his face now, showing no hint of whatever conversation he’d had with Marco mere minutes ago. He tried to take you from Thatch’s arms, but the chef used his height to his advantage and kept you out of reach.

“Come on, I haven’t seen my niece in forever!” Ace pleaded.

“It hasn’t even been an hour, quit whining. We all want a chance to see our niece,” Thatch replied smugly. His cockiness was only aided by the fact that you were giggling at the game of keep away that you were being used in.

Nami glanced back at Whitebeard and saw him and Marco having a hushed conversation. Both of their expressions were unreadable, and whatever Marco was saying was so quiet that Nami couldn’t make it out. She felt uneasy. Something about their exchange felt off, even if she couldn’t pinpoint it. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to leave right now, but Luffy wouldn’t allow it.

She hadn’t missed the disapproving look Marco had the first time he’d seen Lucky. While your injuries had healed since their horrible run-in with Enel, you were severely scarred from it. Mentally and physically. Sanji had been trying out every scar removing ointment that he could find on you, but the scars were still extremely visible. 

Everyone was prone to getting defensive over people judging them for your previous injuries. They felt awful enough without having other people rubbing it in their face.

It was inevitable that Ace was going to question what happened, she knew that the second she spotted his boat speeding towards theirs. The literal second he’d made eye contact, his smile fell and he was looking at the rest of them and asking what happened to his niece while scooping you into his arms protectively. Luffy, being the honest loud mouth that he is, told him everything. Ace didn’t take it well, but he tried to keep it together for your sake.

Marco finished whatever it was that he had to say and hopped down, strolling over to where you were being held in the air. Ace was still trying to get you back, becoming increasingly offended by your lack of cooperation. 

Since Thatch was entirely focused on Ace, he didn’t even notice Marco approaching until he’d managed to snatch you out of his hands.

Before either of them could protest this, Marco cut in, “Are you planning on hogging her all day? Pops hasn’t even been able to properly meet the kid yet.” This was true, you’d barely been able to say ‘hi’ to the giant man before being whisked away by Ace for introductions to his brothers.

Thatch protested, complaining that he finally got to hold you, but Marco just rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going anywhere, you can spend more time with her later.” Marco readjusted his hold on you, and flashed a warm smile, “You want to go meet pops? He’s been waiting to talk to you.”

You bit your lip and mindlessly tugged on his open shirt, “Um… I guess?” 

Whitebeard was an extremely intimidating man, Nami wasn’t surprised that you were nervous about him. You’ve been around giants before, but none of them sported that stern expression that Whitebeard had 95% of the time. That, and she thinks that all of the tubes and medical equipment coming out of him was making you unsure. You’d never seen someone in such a state, so you didn’t seem to know what to make of it.

With every step towards the captain, you stared at him while he stared back. Finally, it dawned on Whitebeard that he may have been intimidating you, and his face softened into a small smile, “It’s nice to finally get a good look at you, my child! I was starting to think I wasn’t going to.”

Your shoulders relaxed slightly and you offered a smile back in exchange. You broke eye contact, tiny hands clinging onto Marco’s shirt as you shyly spoke, “It’s nice to meet you too, mister.”

The other crew members chuckled at your shyness, making you hold onto Marco tighter. This action made him smile and pat your back reassuringly. Once he’d made it to where Whitebeard was seated, the towering captain held out one of his hands. Marco deposited you into it, and despite it only being his hand, you were completely dwarfed by the size. 

You looked up at him warily, but still clung onto his thumb to keep from tumbling off his hand. Nami felt anxious at seeing you held so high off the ground, but knew that voicing this concern would do nothing. She would get laughed at and told to stop worrying so much by the crew. And also Luffy.

“So you’re the niece I’ve heard so much about?” Whitebeard had brought you up to chest height, trying to get a good look at you. All he got in response was you shifting back and forth on his hand before letting out a little ‘mmhm’. Whitebeard laughed loudly, the sound was booming, much like his devil fruit ability, “Ace hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got on board, but he never said anything about you being this shy!”

“I’m not that shy, mister” you huffed.

He chuckled, “Quit being so formal, kid. You can call me pops, too.”

Your head cocked to the side and your nose scrunched up. “Pops? But you’re way too old to be my dad,” you deadpanned. 

A hush fell over the crowd on deck, but only briefly. Then there was an uproar of laughter, including from Whitebeard himself. 

You immediately got defensive, “What? You are!” This didn’t help at all, people were only laughing harder. Even some of the Straw Hats were cracking up. Seeing you go from being all shy to straight up calling him super old was pretty funny.

Visibly flustered, you tried to make a compromise in hopes of getting everyone to stop laughing at you, “H-How about I call you grandpa?”

Whitebeard froze at your proposal, it was obvious that he hadn’t been expecting to hear that. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. A small, soft smile graced his features, “Sure. You can call me that if you want.” His attempt to put on a sterner voice wasn’t fooling anybody, everyone knew that just melted his heart. 

“Okay, grandpa!” You smiled triumphantly.

“Can’t say I’ve been called that before. I guess even an old man like me can still have some firsts,” he mused.

“How have you never been called ‘grandpa’ before? You’re super old,” Luffy just had to interrupt the moment.

“Watch it, you brat.”

“Watch what?” 

Whitebeard’s eye twitched and he exhaled sharply. He likely would have continued a back and forth with Luffy if you hadn’t started giggling about it. That ever so slight softening around his eyes showed again. For someone who was supposed to be the strongest man in the world, he sure was a softy.

You leaned back in his hand to look up at him, “Hey, grandpas are supposed to have lots of stories, right? Can you tell me some, please?” Your eyes were sparkling with hope at the prospect of hearing some fun tales of adventure.

He hummed in thought, “I suppose I’ve got a few, if you really want to hear stories from an old man like me.”

“Yes, I do!” You nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. 

Usopp was muttering next to Nami, offended that you were asking for stories from someone other than him. Nami slumped back in her seat as Whitebeard started one of his tales, looks like she was going to be there for a while yet. There was no telling how long this was going to go on for.

—

Nami jolted awake abruptly. Shit, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that! Sitting up right, she massaged her stiff neck and noted how the sky had gone from a pale blue to a warm orange. How long was she out for?!

Looking over to where she last saw you, she felt momentary relief at seeing you still there. You were curled up in Whitebeard’s hand, sound asleep. Whatever relief she had was quickly replaced with annoyance as she witnessed him lowering his hand and allowing Ace to pick you up.

Launching herself forward, she strode towards him, “Oh, look at that! She’s asleep, so that’s our cue to leave. Give her to me so I can tuck her into her bed.” She looked over her shoulder to the other Straw Hats, who were also taking an impromptu nap, “Everyone up! We’re leaving.”

Ace didn’t respond to her demand to hand you over. He just held you to his chest tighter and shot her a downright guilty look before speedwalking to where the personal cabins were. Magnolia sped after you two, meowing loudly at Ace.

Nami’s brow furrowed in agitation. What the hell did he think he was doing? “Hey! Get back here!”

“Sit down, Nami,” Whitebeard’s voice cut through the air. His tone was so strict that it actually made her pause. 

She shook her head, “Don’t tell me what to do! It’s late, we need to get Lucky to bed.” A door opened and closed, and just like that, Ace and you were out of sight. It seems even Magnolia had gone inside. She cursed under her breath and stomped to the door, bound and determined to get you back.

“I said to sit down!” Whitebeard boomed. “We need to talk.”

There was an overwhelming weight on what felt like her very being that knocked the wind out of her. She stumbled, and as much as she wanted to curse at him, she couldn’t find the will to do so. Despite not at all wanting to, she retreated back to where her chair was. Nami’s willpower was no match for haki, much to her chagrin. 

Now everyone was awake and very on edge from whatever it was that Whitebeard was about to say. It was only now that she noticed Marco perched on top of the throne. His face was perfectly neutral, not aiding at all in revealing what this talk was going to be about.

Sanji was visibly seething. He hated being away from his little princess, so Ace up and running away with you was not going over well with him, “What? What do you want to talk about so damn bad?”

“Lucky is going to be staying with us from now on.”

The deck was dead silent, it was as if even the waves had stopped.

“Who do you think you are?! You can’t decide that!” Sanji was out of his seat and stormed right at the captain. 

Whitebeard didn’t even flinch, looking annoyed more than anything, “I can and I have. This is for her own good. If you all genuinely care about her well being then you will accept this.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?” Nami hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! This doesn’t make any sense, let me go get Ace!” Luffy, ever the optimist, assumed this must be a misunderstanding. He got up to go fetch his brother, but stopped dead in his tracks by what was said next.

“What are you hoping to accomplish with that? This was his idea,” Marco drawled. 

“I knew it! I knew he was up to something!” Nami had never been more upset to be right about something. 

When they were still making their way to the Moby Dick, Ace had abruptly hopped off their ship and onto his own boat. His reason for doing so was to let the crew know that they were coming, which Nami thought was bullshit. The Thousand Sunny was a massive ship, they could absolutely see them well before they got there. There was no need for Ace to go out ahead of them unless he wanted to speak with his crewmates privately. Which apparently, he did.

Luffy snapped out of his frozen state and made a run for the door, “No, he wouldn’t do that!”

Whitebeard grabbed his naginata and flung it outward, blocking Luffy’s path, “We’re not done talking yet, stay here.”

Luffy held his gaze for a solid minute, the tension in the air had everyone on edge. Begrudgingly, Luffy made his way back to where the rest of his crew was and stood with them, arms crossed. He spoke through gritted teeth, “Why?”

“I didn’t make this decision to be cruel. I decided on this because I want that kid to live a long life, and she won’t get to have one in your care,” Whitebeard stated coldly.

“You don’t know that! We’ve taken care of her for this long and we will keep doing so!” Robin protested. Her voice was wavering, choked in emotion.

“Have you? Were you really taking care of her when she was kidnapped and almost killed in Skypeia?” The words were harsh and painful to hear. Everyone was stammering for a response to that.

“That… That was a horrible mistake that will never happen again,” Robin’s voice was meek, guilt heavy in each word.

“Oh? So she wasn’t kidnapped again not long after that?”

Robin flinched at the accusing tone and curled in on herself. Franky reached over to place a supportive hand on her back and glared at Whitebeard, “That’s low.”

Nami’s face felt hot with shame. It was true that they had utterly failed you when Enel took you away. The awful state you were in when Luffy had finally gotten there and saved you would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life.

It was also true that you had been kidnapped again in Water 7, but how was she supposed to know that the shipwright that had gone to perform an assessment of their ship was going to make off like a bandit with you. Or that Zoro would fucking sleep through it. Sanji still hasn’t forgiven him for that. 

At least you hadn’t been harmed that time around. A shock in hindsight considering what kind of a person that Kaku turned out to be.

If Whitebeard had any sympathy for them, he wasn’t showing it in the slightest. He openly sneered at them, “I don’t care if it’s “low”, you need to hear it. If you couldn’t keep her safe in the Grand Line, do you really think you’re going to be able to do so in the New World? You won’t. You’re all too young, too inexperienced. Just keeping your crew alive in the New World is a feat, keeping a small child alive is a completely different story. If I leave her with you lot, she will die.”

“You can’t just take her away like this! That’s our kid dammit!” Sanji looked like he was ready to go on a rampage, even if it killed him.

“You’re welcome to try and get her back. Though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Marco said coolly. His posture was relaxed, but the look in his eyes was anything but. His head gestured to the side, calling attention to several of Whitebeard’s commanders lurking around on the deck.

Jozu was as hard to miss as he was intimidating, Izou was cleaning one of his guns while fixing them with an unimpressed look, and Thatch was the only one that appeared to feel at least a little bad for them. Several others were milling about too, not directly interacting, but the threat was clear.

Don’t even try it.

“What if we became stronger?”

“What?” Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed at Luffy’s question.

“What if we became strong enough to protect her from anything?!” Luffy’s voice rose in volume.

“You can’t be serious, Luffy! Are you actually going to entertain this idea?!” Sanji turned on him in an instant, appalled that his captain seems to be considering it.

Luffy’s knuckles were white, his fists were clenched so tight that his fingernails were cutting into his palms and starting to drip blood onto the floorboards. He didn’t bother responding to Sanji, instead choosing to press Whitebeard for an answer to his question, “Well?!”

Whitebeard grinned, then chuckled, then started full on laughing. Luffy only continued to scowl at him, wanting to hear an answer already.

“You really think that you can accomplish that? You’re a cocky little brat, aren’t you?” Whitebeard chuckled again and rested his chin on his fist. He thought for a moment, then finally gave a proper answer, “Sure. If you can become so strong that you can actually protect the kid from anything then we’ll give her back.”

“Fine.” Luffy pulled his hat down over his eyes and turned away from the emperor. Without even looking at his crew, he spoke again, “Let’s go. We have a lot of work to do.”

“What are you saying?! We can’t just leave her here!” Sanji was borderline hysteric now.

“Will Lucky be safe in your care?” Luffy asked.

“She’ll be the safest kid in the world. Promise,” Marco assured him.

Luffy nodded, “Okay. We’ll be back for her. We’re leaving now, captain’s orders.”

Sanji tried to protest again, but Zoro clamped a hand onto his shoulder, “Stop. If Luffy says we need to leave, then we have to whether you like it or not.” Zoro’s other hand was closed around the hilt of one of his swords. His hand was shaking and his face was pinched, his eyes were strictly fixed onto the ground. 

The cook slapped his hand away, chest heaving in fury. There was a pause, but he ultimately went towards the Thousand Sunny, not saying a word to anyone else while digging out a cigarette.

Everyone else was still in disbelief over what happened, but slowly began to make their way to their ship. The Whitebeard Pirates didn’t say anything else, letting them leave in silence. They all felt numb.

As soon as they were on the ship, Chopper ran to Robin for comfort with tears pouring down his face. She knelt down to comfort him, but it was evident from the vacant look in her eyes that she wasn’t fairing much better than he was.

Nami cornered Luffy, “What was that all about?! How could you just up and agree with him?!”

“He was right. We need to get stronger,” Luffy stated.

How could he be so calm about this?! Nami shoved his shoulder, screaming at him, “How do you even know that he’s going to keep his word about giving her back?!”

“I don’t. But we’re going to become so strong that it won’t matter if he does.” With that, Luffy left to go sit on the figurehead of the ship, needing time to think. To plot. Their going to need a damn good course of action to accomplish what they need to.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

re.: the weasleys + parenting

what's always bugged me most abt percy's fight with arthur (especially in the fandom, where everyone's like 'oh, he turned his back on harry and betrayed his family to side w the ministry) is that. that's hardly what the fight is about at all. the fight is about the fact that percy, an 18yo kid who just got promoted to his dream job instead of straight up losing any chance at ever being Minister (because they tried to scapegoat him into taking the blame for the crouch business even though he managed to keep the whole department running while his boss wasn't even there), comes home all excited to tell his parents that "Hey, he's not unemployed and bereft of any and all hope for his biggest dream", but rather that his skills and competence got recognized by The Most Important Man In The Government, and molly and arthur look him straight in the face and go—"no you didn't."

there is no mention whatsoever that they even try to be gentle about it, that they congratulate him first and then bring it up later like "just be careful around Fudge, he's always looking for people to get information from and you are the best of both worlds, close to the action and actually good at the job he hired you for", nothing of the sort. they straight up don't even consider how any of those factors might've weighed in Fudge's decision to hire him.

and, perhaps worst of all, they have no faith in Percy. he tells them "I'm working for the minister", and not only do they not spare a second to be happy for him over this frankly momentous achievement (or at the very least concern for the position it puts him in), they jump straight to conjectures and accusations. "you only got this because of Harry" has got to crush Percy, who was raised to believe that good things come to honest, hard-working people and who has been working for this since he was a small child. and it digs the knife deeper when you realize that most of his siblings have basically replaced him with Harry. Harry, who also plays Quidditch and also keeps throwing himself into death-defying dangers and overalls fits much better into the family dynamic than Percy ever has.

and there's just this. crystal clear implication that they do believe Percy would spy on them. he's so Different and Other and Un-Weasley/Gryffindor-like and they've alienated themselves from him so absolutely that they can't see any reasons he wouldn't willingly and consciously jeopardize his parents' livelihood and Harry & his siblings safety just to stay in the Minister's good graces, when if anyone's actually at risk of losing their job for siding with Dumbledore is his father, who's still working there quite merrily and continues to so for a long time afterwards.

Percy, who runs into a freezing lake mid-February while attending an international event as Crouch's replacement to make sure Ron is alright, who pesters Ginny to eat and have a pepper-up potion most of her first year bc she doesnt look well, who tails Harry and Ron a lot of their second and third years bc there's something petrifying kids and then Dementors on the grounds and a mass murderer on the loose and they all just think he's being willfully bothersome like no you idiots he's worried.

of course he left. of course he left. what did he have to gain by staying at the Burrow, beyond fresh home cooked meals harassment and disagreements? why wouldn't he leave?

sorry I have a lot of feelings about this.

No need to apologize, this is brilliantly written!

I don't even feel like I need to add anything as you summed up the Percy situation perfectly.

But I can't help myself because I love discussing the Weasley family dynamics, so it's a bit more rumbley than my usual...

Percy cares so much for his family. When Voldemort is revealed and the war actually starts, he puts all his disagreements with his parents aside to come and help and make sure they're okay, because he cares. And still, he is being shunned and treated like an outsider.

Arthur and Molly Weasley are just really good at alienating their kids because it isn't just Percy.

Somehow all of them succeded in feeling like outsiders in a family of 9. Bill shows frustration with his parents and only returns to Britain because of the war, Charlie's in Romania for most of the series. Fred and George run away the moment they can and are treated like trouble by their parents most of the time (Molly and Arthur assume they are selling stolen goods from Mundungus when they hear they have money, not that they, idk, somehow earned it), Ron has a whole complex of low self-esteem and a tendency to blame himself for everything. Ginny is isolated from her brothers as the only girl and youngest...

And Percy cares and tries to be the best and most responsible sibling and gets scorned in turn.

Harry and Ron do acknowledge Arthur's and Molly's accusation towards Percy was awful and that he was right to respond negatively in OOTP. Ron is just sensitive about their family's financial state which soured Percy to him after Percy blew up at their dad (rightfully so, honestly, I'd say way worse to Arthur if it was me).

The thing is, Percy also gets scorned by his siblings, not just his parents (like Fred and George do). He gets grief for trying to be responsible and for wanting his siblings to do well in school and not get in trouble, Fred and George lock him in a pyramid...

That being said, do I think Percy is perfect? No, he is pretentious and overbearing at times, but he is a child in a large family who tries to find a place to fit himself in. According to child psychology, usually when it comes to siblings, the eldest would usually (at least in childhood) try to be everything the parents want (Bill), and then each next sibling will carve a different niche for themselves, and we see this with the Weasleys. I think the twins being born right after Percy and demanding a lot of attention from their parents from a young age as they were little troublemakers from the start is a big reason why Percy chose the niche of being bookish, ambitious, and responsible for himself. To contrast himself with them and his older brothers and get some attention from their parents.

I'm not a fan of the epilog (like everyone), but I find it hard to imagine Percy being close to his family post-books. I think he never fully got over the sting of not being seen as skilled and competent and that his parents believed he'd turn on them all without a second thought. Nor do I think he should just get over it.

Like, I'm really salty that Percy was the only one to apologize:

“I was a fool!” Percy roared, so loudly that Lupin nearly dropped his photograph. “I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a—a—” “Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron.” said Fred. Percy swallowed. “Yes, I was!” “Well, you can’t say fairer that that,” said Fred, holding out his hand to Percy. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Percy said.

(Deathly Hollows, pages 512-513)

Like, yes, it's great he was smart enough to realize the ministry is corrupt, but this demand only for him to apologize when Molly and Arthur Weasley were just as much in the wrong. Fred and George weren't beacons of sainthood here either. But none of them have apologies demanded of them. None of them are demanded to confess they are "morons". Just Percy.

Who even after his apology is still an outsider. Probably always will be one.

You said it best: "Why wouldn't he leave?"

And that's what we see him do (if temporarily).

[hiskillingjar]

What if? Fox was infatuated to unhealthy levels with MC, from the beginning (even before the kidnapping).

me when i flirt with an older man (he runs a human trafficking ring and has an anxious attachment style)

2000+ words, sfw, ren hana is a chubby chaser and no you will not change my mind

"Hey, what can I get for you?"

It was a cold day in December and he had been called to the office on a weekend due to a technical mishap from one of his staff the previous day. It was a day that he would have been annoyed, angry even, a day where he would have taken one step into the building and tore the head off the first person who dared speak to him.

But, for whatever reason, he always found his anger dissipated when he saw them.

The barista smiled, their soft, freckled cheeks dimpling with an expression that insinuated sincerity and sweetness, an innately trusting nature, traits so rare in Fox's profession, in the city that surrounded him, rare enough that he cherished and obsessed over them whenever he found them in someone.

He had been coming to this cafe every morning for weeks, not only because it was on the corner of his office in the financial district, a place close by where he could escape his moronic employees when he needed to, but because he found that he had to see their face to even feel slightly at ease on the more stressful days of work.

Just one look of their smile and hearing their voice was enough to settle him in an instant.

"Just a cup of coffee, please," Fox replied with a slight smile, jolted out of his train of thought, one of his ears twitching when they chuckled kindly.

"Well, yeah, I assumed," They said with another little chuckle, crooked teeth (so familiar, so sweet, wouldn't they look nice on the ground, scattered like pearls?) biting their lip to stop the chuckle from growing into a laugh. It was a quiet Saturday in the financial quarter, so they must have had time to banter with customers. "What kind?"

Fox smirked just a touch, one of his fangs hooking over his bottom lip.

He couldn't deny that he was a little curious about the young barista and what they were doing working in this part of the city (since, for one, they looked like they had a modicum of personality compared to everyone else who worked there).

They were a far cry from the kind of people he usually saw and interacted with on a day-to-day basis, soft when all he saw was hard, kind when all he saw was cruelty, and there was a certain, naive charm to them that Fox found almost magnetic.

He was always the obsessive type, falling in love with every pretty face who was nice to him, and years of therapy and unpacking his trauma never really stopped that obsession from blooming.

But what was the harm, really? What was so bad about a little crush and a few intrusive thoughts?

"Hmm…" He hummed thoughtfully, his tail idly wagging behind him. "Surprise me?"

"Adventurous. I like it." They chuckled again as they set to work on his drink. When they turned, it gave Fox a good opportunity to…assess their assets, his gaze scrutinous as he leaned against the counter, elbows up on the glass pastry display.

All things considered, their figure wasn't exactly remarkable, certainly not compared to the call girls and 'staff members' he was accustomed to working with. Average height (taller than him, but that wasn't hard), a heft to their hips and backside, a small (possibly bound) chest, and a constellation of acne scarring on their freckled cheeks…but he found himself drawn to them, regardless of all of that.

It had indeed been a cold day…but there was a certain warmth that he felt coming from the young barista that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Indeed, despite his violent intrusive thoughts, there was a part of him (buried beneath his hardened surface) that yearned for them.

He almost wanted to reach out and touch them, right then and there, the urge to simply embrace them, touch their skin, run his fingers along their cheek, dig his claws into them, pull their hair, break their jaw, make them bleed, make them cry, growing with every passing second.

But something stopped him, a sensible part of him that kept pulling him back from the brink of his obsession, his face remaining impassive as he continued to stare.

He probably looked like any normal, lecherous, older man, making advances on someone years younger than him. He could deal with that.

"You work around here?" They asked, making idle conversation as they steamed a jug of milk, a gust of steam fogging up their glasses.

"That I do," Fox replied with a nod, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he took in their form once again (they were cleaning their glasses with their shirt, making it ride up and expose the soft skin of their belly) and stood back from the counter, putting his hands in his pockets (adjusting his growing bulge). "Right around the corner, in fact. And you?" He asked curiously.

"I'm a student," They smiled, turning back towards him and putting their glasses back on. "Obviously. I mean, I'm a barista, that comes with the territory, right?" They laughed and Fox smiled, nodding again curtly. "I work the weekend shift when I can though, when it's nice and quiet."

"A student, huh?" Fox asked curiously, casually, raising a brow and running his tongue over one of his fangs, his ears tilting forward. His attention was torn between the barista's face as they spoke and the still-exposed flash of skin above the waistband of their jeans, a little fold of soft fat spilling over them. His eyes shone brightly as he continued to stare downwards. "What are you studying?" He asked, eyes quickly returning to their face so as not to look too obvious in his ogling.

"Criminal psychology," They replied, finishing up the coffee with a dusting of cinnamon and setting it on the counter in a to-go cup. They had him clocked as a businessman, then. "Postgrad."

"Criminal psychology?" Fox repeated, accepting the offered drink as he took the cup and raised it to his nose, inhaling the aroma as he spoke. "I'm curious, what sort of career are you hoping to move into with that?" He asked, tilting his head, his tail still wagging idly. "Not just after university, but after all of it?"

"I wanna work in rehabilitation," They said, tilting their own head and giving him a considered look, their dark eyes flitting from his well-groomed fox ears (beast-kin in the wild were still relatively rare, after all) and down his handsome face and his suit, admiring him casually, as any person did (and they often did). "And help people get back on their feet after prison."

"Rehabilitation, eh? Helping people get back on their feet…" Fox repeated their words again with a thoughtful look on his face, his wrinkles looking a little more pronounced as he thought over what they said. He took a sip of his coffee, meeting their gaze for a minute (noting when they smiled eagerly at him as if waiting for his approval). "Well, I think that's just wonderful….and a hard job, too. You must be pretty driven to want to do that."

"Yeah," They laughed, scraping back dyed hair behind their ears. "Tell me about it. It's really tough sometimes. But…" They bit their lip again, but despite their bashful expression (those crooked teeth digging into their soft skin, like he wanted to do), their eyes never left his. "I believe people deserve a second chance…everybody, even the worst people. We should do everything we can to make sure of that, and I want to be part of that. I want to help people."

Something about those words, their eyes on his, speaking to him as if those words were for him and him alone, made something tight catch in Fox's chest, and he almost spluttered a mouthful of hot coffee around the rim of the cup.

"Everyone…even the worst people," Fox said softly to himself, wiping his mouth clean as he glanced down at his shoes, hoping his expression made him look thoughtful instead of…well, complacent. "How very noble of you."

He ran his tongue over his teeth, tilting his head back while the barista typed his order into their register.

"Even people like me?" He then asked, his voice low in the back of his throat, golden eyes flitting upwards, half-lidded, as his brows knitted together with an ominous kind of consideration.

"What was that?" They looked up from the register, not catching what he said.

"Ah, it's nothing, nothing at all." He then said quickly with a subdued laugh and a casual smile. "This is lovely, by the way. What am I drinking?"

"Oh, it's just an oat milk latte," They chuckled with a shrug. "But…" They then continued in a quiet whisper, leaning into him over the counter, like they were telling a secret. "I infused the milk with fresh lavender and thyme this morning. This is the first time I'm trying it out in the shop."

When they were this close to him, their scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating and attractive, so much so that it made his guts twist in ravenous hunger and his growing bulge throb even more.

"Ah…how unique." He grinned, taking another sip of the coffee, doing his best to look deliberate. "The lavender adds a really nice touch, as does the thyme. Very subtle, but distinct. It's wonderful, really." He said, forcing a slightly impressed look on his face as he looked up at them, his golden eyes sparkling at their own grinning face, ecstatic at the praise.

"I'm so glad you think so," They grinned, before turning the register around for him to see and pay. "That'll be four-fifty today. No charge for the extras, of course."

"How very kind of you," He said softly (and mostly to himself), taking his phone from his pocket and tapping it against the register's contactless sensor in a quick and fluid gesture.

So fluid that he was almost certain that they didn't notice him taking their picture.

The register let out a high BEEP in recognition of his payment, and a receipt was quickly spat out on the barista's side.

"Great, that's all gone through. Well," The barista's grin faded into a polite smile, as the interaction wound to a close, tearing off the paper receipt and stuffing it in the cash drawer of their register. "It was great speaking with you today, Mr…"

"Fox." He said, taking another sip of coffee with a light smirk. Their picture must have been scanned into the database by now, from the way his phone was buzzing in his pocket. "Just Fox. No titles."

"Fox." The barista said back to him with a nod. "See you around?" They added hopefully.

"Certainly," Fox replied with as close to a genuine smile as he could still manage. "It was lovely speaking with you too, darling. Take care of yourself."

Once Fox left the cafe, a tinkle of a bell above the door marking his exit and leaving the young barista to attend to their other tasks while it was still quiet, he took out an old flip-phone and dialed a familiar number, still thoughtfully sipping his coffee as the cold chill of the morning ran down his spine.

"Hey…yeah, I have a special request for you."

His voice was low and quiet once the person on the other end of the phone silently picked up, waiting for his instructions.

"I want a pick-up from a specific spot, today if you can. I'll send you the location." He took another sip of coffee as he idly paced the front of the cafe, hearing a few words from the other end of the line. "Yeah, I've just uploaded them to the database. Local university, no housemates, family not around, it looks like…mm, and cute as a button, I know, I know."

Fox smiled widely, his tail wagging a little more frantically as his mind raced with gruesome thoughts.

"As soon as you can. No damage in transit or no bonus, got it? Great."

He hung up with a snap of the phone and drained the last of the coffee from its cup, running his tongue over his lips in silent consideration.

He could get used to lavender and thyme.

[biblio-smia]

hello just a simple fluff request

hanging out with non-gf!bestfriend!ethan and he accidentally blurts out his crush on reader

it's been an hour since you've caught ethan looking at you strangely.

you've tried to catch him again for confirmation but it's as if he has a sensor, eyes flickering away just as you glance over. you've gone as far as to keep your head very still - to no avail. ethan's got you beat.

maybe you have something on your face. but you've wiped your mouth and ethan would be a terrible best friend if he didn't point it out within the hour.

your faith is beginning to waiver, frustration forcing your attention from the movie playing to ethan (and yourself - but mostly ethan).

his subtle glances feel like digs, growing your self-consciousness with each one. your mind wastes no time in creating a far-fetched, unreasonably reasonable explanation for how stiffly ethan sits. maybe he really hated the movie you picked out but felt bad saying anything. maybe he found out you'd skipped the history lecture you promised him you'd attend.

"ethan," you finally grumble, not bothering to press pause before turning to ethan. "you're pissing me off."

"what?" ethan's voice breaks out of surprise, a clearing of his throat quickly following his question.

"what do you keep staring at? if there's something on my face and you're not telling me-"

"there's nothing on your face."

you glare at him pointedly. suspiciously. your doubt is obvious but ethan ignores it, turning back to the tv and rewinding the last minute or so you have missed.

he's dug his own grave. this is even stranger than him arguing with you.

"ethan."

you're shushed immediately, finger to ethan's lips pressing against yours right after. you move ethan's hand away from your face but your grip remains strong in hopes you'll catch his attention again.

"you haven't been paying attention for the past forty minutes."

ethan scoffs. "yes, i have!"

he doesn't have to look at you to know exactly which look you're giving him. you don't have to speak to confirm you've caught him in a lie.

ethan grabs the bowl of popcorn he cleared within the first ten minutes, heading off into the kitchen with a weak "want any?" over his shoulder.

avoidance. you'll be having none of it.

you're hot on his tail, unable to let it go. it's unlike ethan to keep anything from you. you've worked hard for status of best friend and you're sure as hell not letting go of it anytime soon.

"ethan," you repeat in that tone ethan recognizes too well. he's never excelled at lying and he's even worse at hiding his feelings from you.

he wonders how he's gone so long.

he should be rewarded, really.

"ethan, what's wrong?" your tone is soft now, reminding ethan of the gentle touches of yours he always finds himself falling in to.

it's tricky, now - he feels himself cracking. alright, he admits it. his will is weak-to-non-existent when it comes to you. he can hear his friends' "i told you so!s" already.

if that wasn't bad enough, the look on your face makes ethan's heart drop. he's taken too long to answer. it's worrying you now, your attempts of humor running out quicker than usual. ethan can see you desperately think of a plan b.

so he blurts out the first thing on his mind - the very thing that's been taunting him for days now - just to bring you peace.

ethan's sure it'll do the opposite as he watches your face adopt an expression he's never seen before. he realizes now, too late, that this confession could backfire very, very painfully.

"that's it?"

ethan's eyes are wide, body frozen in place as he watches you carefully. not that he'd be able to pick up on any micro-changes in your expression like he usually prides himself in - it's clear his head isn't quite working right.

he's too afraid to move, as if standing very still will trick you into thinking he's not there. better yet, he never existed.

"ethan?" you're laughing, waving your hand in front of ethan's face.

yeah. no such luck.

"eth?" your hands cup his face now and ethan wonders how he's ever survived you calling him that. "is that what's been bothering you all night?"

ethan manages to nod his head yes, his body unconsciously reacting to your touch. he's too comfortable in it, never ready to be let go.

"you didn't have to torture yourself," you grin knowingly. "don't think i've ever had it in me to say no to you."

ethan doesn't think reminding you of the time you said no when he begged you to see star wars: the phantom menace for the sixth time would help his case.

he lets you graze his jaw, sweet touches torturous to his heart. but all of it is relieved as you kiss him, silently telling him everything he's wanted to hear.

perhaps he has an excuse, now, to be in your arms for a little too long.

masterlist

buy me a ko-fi!

[bluerose5]

A Moment of Peace

A short, sweet scene inspired by @yellingaboutmasseffect's tags on my Davrin/Wyll post. Of course I had to write something for this while inspiration struck, so a gift for you!

“Don't!” Wyll warned, his heart all but pounding out of his chest. He ducked farther behind the tree, careful to keep his wings and tail tucked in close against him. His voice trembled when he spoke, his eye burning with the beginning of unshed tears. “D–Don't come any closer!”

How quickly he felt like a young lad again, faced with the thought of rejection, but this was no mere crush he was dealing with either.

This was Davrin, and that made all the difference in the world.

Abruptly, Davrin stopped in his tracks, frowning while Wyll hid from him, but he didn't push the matter. He did as he was told, not taking another step, lest he risk losing the one chance at another shot with him that he'd been waiting years for.

Both of them remained silent, stuck at an impasse until Davrin swallowed past the lump in his throat, speaking up when he could bear the distance between them no longer.

He recalled this silly chant they used to call out as kids, back when fighting monsters was only a fantasy to them.

Perhaps it was a bit cheesy, but the words returned to him, clear as day.

“Little prince, little prince,” he said, sparing him a wistful smile, “would you tell me if you ran?”

From behind the tree, Wyll rested his forehead against its trunk with a deep breath. In the distance, he could hear the roar of the circus still raging on, but it was nothing more than background noise to them now.

Everything around them paled in comparison to each other.

Wyll laughed through a sob, clutching at his chest.

“Brave knight, brave knight,” he responded, “catch me if you can.”

It was at that point when Davrin usually gave chase, both of them laughing and squealing in a game of tag that felt like it could go on forever. Time always did work funny there at the circus, but Davrin didn't make a move towards Wyll. Not yet, at least.

Instead, Davrin held a hand out in his direction, reciting the words they used when the chase was over. 

“Little prince, little prince, take me by the hand?” he breathed, more of a question than the statement it was supposed to be.

Wyll felt his lower lip wobble.

“Brave knight, brave knight.” He peeked out around the tree, watching Davrin take in the sight of his glowing, red eye. “Would you lead me from this land?”

Any other day, they'd leave it at that, Davrin taking Wyll by the hand and dragging him off to whatever else they had planned, but this wasn't “any other day” to them.

Even then, even getting a glimpse of what he was, Davrin didn't hesitate to say, “If only you'd give me the chance.”

Wyll's face fell.

“Dav,” he choked out, shaking his head at him. “I'm not the same Wyll that you remember.”

“Yeah, well…” Davrin chuckled bleakly. “I'm probably not the same Davrin you remember either.” He shrugged. “I still would like to see you, though, if it's all the same to you.”

Wyll paused, his voice small when he spoke.

“And if the little prince of your childhood has become one of the very monsters you've sworn to hunt?”

Davrin furrowed his brow at him.

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes, Wyll. I think we both know that,” he said. “They are just as likely to look like the village baker as they are to look like the beasts from our storybooks, but perhaps similar could be said about our heroes as well.” When Wyll didn't respond, he pressed the matter. “Don't let doubt be what drives the wedge between us now. I've waited so long to be able to see you again, and something is telling me that you've been waiting for this moment as well.”

“Of course I have!” Wyll insisted, his hand gripping tightly at the tree's side, claws digging into the wood. “I've missed you as the wilting flower misses its sunlight. Like the snow-stricken grass misses the warmth of springtime.”

“Heh. That's my boy.” The words slipped free before he could second guess himself. “Always the romantic.”

Wyll scoffed, but Davrin swore that he saw a familiar smile take shape, followed by a flash of fangs.

“Like you're one to talk.”

Bracing himself, Davrin dared to take a slow step forward, careful not to startle him. He kept his hand still extended, encouraging Wyll closer with a curl of his fingers.

“Let me see you, Wyll.”

“Even in this cursed form? Forced upon me for doing what was right.”

That only raised more questions than answers, but Davrin didn't once falter. 

“Even then.”

After all, he didn't get to where he was without learning to wield the darker forces inside himself. Being a Warden meant accepting others from all walks of life, everyone from the lowest criminals to the highest nobility. It meant accepting that sometimes one had to become the monster in order to fight it best.

Whatever transformation Wyll had undergone, Davrin didn't fear him.

Of that, he was certain.

Wyll hesitated, then stepped forward into the light.

There were certainly parts of him that were different from what Davrin remembered. Aside from the claws and the fangs, Davrin watched a new set of wings unfold behind him, a tail whipping restlessly back and forth through the air. Horns curled up from his head like a pair of tusks, yet none of that was what stood out to him the most.

It was his eye, now gone, a patch covering the area where it once was.

All Davrin could think about was what suffering Wyll could have undergone in the time they'd been apart to leave him in such a state; although, while his heart broke for him, Davrin didn't think any less of him for it. He must have survived so much, since his exile. It would take time to get used to his new appearance, sure, but Davrin's feelings for him hadn't changed.

When Wyll slipped his hand into his, Davrin reeled him in closer, as he did the last time they saw each other.

Wyll's eye instinctively darted downwards, and both of them leaned in to close the distance between them, sealing their lips into a passionate, desperate kiss.

It had been too long.

Too long since they last saw each other.

Too long since they made their promise to one another.

Both of them melted into their embrace. Wyll's wings wrapped around them like a cocoon, his tail coiled around Davrin's waist. Davrin didn't even hesitate to deepen the kiss when given the chance, parting Wyll's lips with his own, coaxing a needy whimper from him as they clung to each other like their very lives depended on it.

And although they still had plenty to talk about, that particular discussion could wait for the time being.

After all those years of anticipation, after all those years of trials and loneliness and hardship, it was safe to assume that they had earned themselves this moment of peace.

[anemicjellyfish]

The Purrfect Plant: A Helluva Boss Ficlet

Content warning for canon-typical violence and language.

Special thanks to @blitzwhore for inspiring me to dig in my own brain for headcanons, which inspired this to be written! 💖

The glimmer of the portal faded behind the IMP crew as they arrived at the location of their next hit: Super PawMart.

A faint hum of outdated lighting could be heard over the singular speaker playing a Friday Night 90's Playlist, and a damp smell came from the discolored ceiling tiles overhead.

"Lucifer's nipples," Blizø cursed, "this place is a dump!"

"Yeah," Loona chimed in, sniffing a bag labeled Dave's Discount Dog Chow on the shelf next to her, "you'd think humans would care enough about their pets to get them food that isn't... moldy."

"Let's just find this asshole, kill him dead and get the fuck back home. Moxxie! Who are we looking for?"

Moxxie sighed and pulled the mission file from his coat pocket. "Would it kill you to read the dosier before we begin a mission, Blitzø?"

"No," Blitzø replied, snatching the file from Moxxie, "but it would kill you if I– uhh, kill you. Bitch."

Blitzø didn't hear Moxxie's scolding over Millie's snickering and something the radio referred to as a "Boyz II Men."

All three imps went silent, however, when Loona slapped her long tail in front of their mouths. Motioning with her paw, she pointed to the figure shuffling around behind the checkout counter.

A scrappy man, blond and barely taller than Blitzø, sang off key to the music while closing out the till. His blond hair slicked back from his face, a slight stubble around his jaw.

Blitzø flipped open the file and held up the photo. A perfect match.

"That's our bitch!" He whispered.

Millie craned her neck to see the file. "So what did this guy even do to deserve dying?"

"Doesn't matter," Blitzø replied, handing her the paper, "his ex-girlfriend wants him dead. And she paid extra to have it done just before the weekend!"

Moxxie was already making his way through the aisles, careful not to step on loose dog toys scattered on the floor.

The man at the till didn't seem to notice as IMP quickly approached, dividing up to corner their victim. When he looked up, he caught a flash of Loona's tail as she disappeared behind a display of cat toys.

"We've been closed for 30 minutes!" The man called out. "Whoever has your husky off-leash, come get it."

Blitzø crouched close to the ground, signaling Loona to stay put as the man pulled a microphone toward him from the register.

"Attention!" The intercom squealed sharply. "Any remaining customers, you need to come get your dog and leave. We're CLOSED, and I'm not paid enough to work overtime."

Moxxie and Millie approached from behind, cutting off their victim's easiest escape route. That left Loona directly in front, with Blitzø just covering one side. Their target could still make his way to the exit- it wasn't that far away. The IMP crew would have to be fast.

Blitzø shot a glance to Moxxie, gesturing him to shoot when ready. As Moxxie raised his gun, a ceiling tile gave way, soaking both Moxxie and Millie in damp asbestos and cardboard as a leaky pipe dripped overhead.

The man stilled behind the counter, eyes darting back and forth between the small red imps that struggled out from under the debris. Blitzø grabbed his gun, pushing past a shelf of hilariously humiliating costumes for chihuahuas, and jumped onto the counter.

"Alright, Derek," he said, cocking his gun, "time to die, bitch!"

"What the FUCK!" Derek replied, falling backwards and scrambling under the counter.

"Your ex wants you dead, jackass." Loona said, emerging from behind the cat toys. "Guess you shouldn't have killed her precious little baby."

"Oh, shit," Blitzø grabbed Derek off the floor, deflecting the giant Employee Safety Manual that Derek tried to throw at him, "you killed her baby? Dickhead."

Derek shifted under the barrel of Blitzø's gun. "It wasn't like that, I swear! I didn't kill anyone!"

"Well, she paid to have you killed. And time is money, bitch! I got plans tonight and– what the fuck is that shit?"

Derek's digging under the counter had yielded a returned item from earlier that day. He unscrewed the plastic lid just as Moxxie and Millie, now only slightly damp and moldy, joined Blitzø.

The three imps and Loona found themselves covered in a thick dusting of catnip. The extra strong variety.

"Uhh," Millie started, her eyes dilating, "what is this stuff?"

Blitzø inhaled deeply while Moxxie licked several flakes of leaves off his hand. All three imps sagged to the floor.

Loona, unfazed, glared at Derek. "What the fuck kind of drugs are you selling at a pet store, asshole?!"

Derek held the plastic jug in shaking hands. "It's... it's just catnip. It's for cats..."

"Fuuuuuck!" Loona exclaimed, picking up a now limp Moxxie off the floor. "Damn it, it's like they're made of gelatin." Blitzø was lazily grabbing at his own twitching tail, unable to figure out how to catch it.

Derek, previously frozen in place, turned his head to the exit.

"Don't even fucking think about it!"

Loona tried prying the gun from Blitzø's hand, but her adoptive father was too enthralled with his own senses to be able to let go. Thinking quickly, she rubbed the Asmodean Crystal on his wrist, opening a portal to the IMP office.

"STOLAS," she shouted, "get out here and help me with Blitzø!"

If Derek was confused by the three red demons and a bipedal dog girl in front of him, then the absurdly tall owl man that came through a rift in space sent him over the edge. His legs gave out and he fell below the counter.

Before Stolas could panic, Loona shoved Blitzø into his arms. "Take care of him. He's on some weird cat drugs, and I need to kill that stupid guy," she gestured at the counter, "for our client."

"Which err, 'stupid guy' is this, exactly?"

Derek poked his head out.

"Oh!" Stolas' eyes narrowed, his calm expression turned to fury. "Derek! The plant killer!"

Loona's head cocked to one side. "Wait. We're killing a guy who killed a plant?!"

"S-s-see?" Derek whispered, his hands raised in innocence. "I'm not a murderer!"

Stolas drew himself to his full height, cradling a now-purring and drooling Blitzø in his arms.

"Loona," he said, "would you kindly shoot this piece of shit so that we can all go home and enjoy our weekend?"

"Uhh... sure."

With one quick shot, Derek found his way into the afterlife, presumably near his ex-girlfriend, who could spend eternity antagonizing him over the loss of her beloved pet plant.

Stolas gently caressed the Crystal on Blitzø's arm as Loona collected both Moxxie and Millie, who were in a similar state to their boss. Blitzø purred and nuzzled his face into the exposed feathers on Stolas' chest, slurring his words about how soft Stolas was.

"Hmm," Stolas mused, checking the discarded container, "catnip? Oh, Nepeta Cataria! Seems it has an effect on imps, too."

"Yep." Loona said, tossing M&M through the portal.

"Well, maybe I'll have to keep a bit of this... you know, for research?"

Loona rolled her eyes, stepping through the portal.

"Whatever, I guess."