#hunter x hunter drabble

[ashton-sano]

Shouldnt have fallen in love, Look what it made me become~

Now Playing🎼♬ ♪ ♫:

A/n: To my lovely @kaymerx who made a request, i havent forgotten you, school has been rough and this post is mainly to get something out. Forgive my delay🙏

This is a part two to my Strong! Y/n Series where you two are dating. Its up to you how that happens but we're continuing from there :3

-He’s so awkward it’s actually very creepy at times -He spent so much time watching you that he forgot he had to talk to you when you spoke, one track guy tbh -Him kidnapping you was a short lived affair. He had you tied but it didn’t take long for you to get free -Hanging around him is never tame, not for long anyway -He tries to “bond” in the weirdest ways after Shalnark tells him couples should do cute things together -He’s confused, how is torturing not what couples like to do? Bonding and getting information, two birds with one stone as he sees it. -What do you mean he has to be more intimate then that? How can anything be more intimate than killing with his favorite person? -Imagine how out of place he’d feel just sitting in your house. When he was actually invited in this time too -You decided a simple horror film would be better for his taste. Safe to say he did enjoy it, more then he’d ever say -He let out low chuckles when some characters would die or make a small comment on the inaccuracy of the gore -The way he stared at the screen unblinking made it hard to tell if he liked it -It’s only when he slowly hints to it days later that you see he enjoyed the film -More than that, he liked spending time with you, it made his heart do things akin to the feeling of a heart attack. Still weird but fine for now

“Funny Movie. Let’s watch.”

-Thats how it starts. -At first he’d come over to watch movies and slowly he would just enter unannounced and spend hours just staring at you as you did whatever you were doing. -Kinda like before but just with your express consent -He’s not a very “human” like person so most actions typical to most are lost on him -Like why you’re using such a well crafted knife on a vegetable, that’s pointless he thought -After you explain cooking to him, it’s about the same -But he wanted to understand the things you did so he’d assist in his weird ways. -Now he steals items of food he thinks look good and brings them to you

“You went grocery shopping?”

“That’s what that called?”

“Oh.”

-Perfect chopper every time, the one thing he’s not lost on. He knows blades well, and it’s a bit weird how his smirk widens as he cuts the carrot.

-Almost like snapping a finger, he thinks, fascinating

-He likes cooking a bit more now

-You have a mental list of foods that he’s comfortable eating, he prefers rice based dishes, most of all with chicken. But when it’s soft, he eats it quicker.

-From his life, just getting any type of food is something he’d eat. He wasn’t always that picky, as long as it wasn’t completely dirty.

-When you made habit of cooking things he liked, he “bought” food he didn’t mind eating so you could make it.

“You like tomatoes Fei?”

“Kinda.”

“Hm.”

-He didn’t know where to place it, he definitely liked having you around. The discord in his chest made him annoyed when he looked at you too long though. You were nice to look at, so very nice to stare at.

-Shut up, feeble heart

-He’s still unorthodox, assassin Feitan yes, but after a few scoldings for trailing blood in the house, he definitely didn’t know what was going on

-Why did he feel so inclined to listen? Why did he want you to make that content face once more? That face he loved to stare at so much. Why was he making habit to cleaning himself off before entering your house

-This is definitely weird

-He figured his answer out after you attended one of the spider meetings, you were still an infamous assassin, it was only a matter of time for this to happen so why did he want you to be a secret? Why did it annoy him that the rest of them got to see you? What was his…did he really just think that?

-It peeved him even when you spoke to Chrollo, a man he respected and trusted, shouldn’t he be content that you two get along?

-No, no he shouldn’t. Because that face isn’t for anyone to relish in. You kept him around, you fed him, surely that means you liked him. Why else would you let him in after knowing he broke in?

-You gave him kindness beyond what he’s known. So you like him, you only need to like him. So letting another see that beauty that he saw wasn’t acceptable.

-This meeting needed to end now

-He can���t explain what he’s feeling, he rarely could. He just knew you being chummy with his comrades wasn’t something he liked, no that’s the wrong word. He despised it.

-The walk home was eerily silent, not quite like it typically is. He was stewing, you could tell he just can’t find his words

“Your friends are rather interesting..”

“They not friends. More like family.”

-That coming from him was probably more estranged then he let on

“Well they’re definitely something, but I think joining might be fine.”

-He stopped walking

“Join?”

-It’s not like you lack talent or experience, but he can’t figure out why he wants you to himself

-Joining the spiders means you seeing other people, worse, others seeing you. You were lovely, his heart was never still when you were around

-He’s still not completely convinced it’s not your nen at work there

-You can’t share that feeling with anyone, not when he’s so dedicated to your presence.

“Fei, we’ve been standing here a while. What’s up?”

-He just kept walking, but you caught a mumble from his lips

“No Join. Bad plan.”

-From his demeanor alone, it was obvious. Feitan was very serious and rarely talkative but his behavior and actions betrayed him, at least around you

-He was jealous, the holes he stared into your head a few hours prior gave that away. He did always strike as the possessive type, just not like this

-Akin to a child, it was weirdly cute to you

“Fei, why not?”

“Just bad plan, don’t join.”

-It continued like that all the way to your apartment, he only insisted that it was a bad idea, no further elaboration

-Today was curry, spicy because Feitan found he liked food with spice, that being the only spectrum of food he likes these days

-You decided to poke at it a bit

“Well I mean maybe I should just ask that blonde guy for his insight.”

-It’s scary how fast he was boring holes into your head once more from the very mention of that. He was not a fan. He stalked slowly to you, his gaze sharp

“No ask Phinks. I tell you it’s bad plan, so it is.”

-There was a silence before you laughed a bit

“Fei, there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

“Huh?”

-He wasn’t familiar with such a thing, is that why he felt some internal need to fight Phinks? They were associated for a long time so why couldn’t he shake that burn in his chest?

-Jealous? He’s only just heard of it and yet he can’t think to agree, that felt too tame. He wanted to gouge out the eyes of anyone that even dared to hold your gaze for too long. No one has that right, hardly even himself

-You are kind to him, you give him warmth, so you care about him, and you don’t give that to anyone else because you don’t care about them. You give him what he doesn’t deserve, yet you never word it that way

-This feeling, this almost necessity to be around you. You don’t need to give that to anyone else, not when he’d do anything to keep your gaze on him. Killing is never beyond him, he’s already slowly losing remorse for anyone that’s too close to you..

“Don’t talk to them. Don’t.”

-It was the first time he reached out on his own, he tugged you into him, burning your scent into his nostrils like he’ll never get another chance

-He had a consistent smell of gunpowder and blood, but that never bothered you. It clung to him in an unfamiliar way; as if he was meant to.

-His fingers were slender, a lot thinner then you remembered. Yet his grip didn’t yield, as if iron clad.

“If you say so.”

-You didn’t really want to join, it didn’t suit you to kill in a group. But coaxing him to hold you was worth that. You warmed into his touch, your hold a lot gentler than his.

-He was new to it, so he couldn’t help but be rough and rigid.

-It was a few minutes before he let go, clearly less tense.

“I’ll help chop.”

-Those were his only words but you knew he was internally grateful. He rolled his sleeves and steadily cut

-Chop. Chop. Chop. That’s what’ll happen to anyone that takes his light away. They go, brutally so and they won’t come back, not in this lifetime or the next million after that

-You were perfect, you couldn’t do wrong, no. No, it’s the filth of this world that makes you do bad, and he’ll rid of it. No one shall dim your light. He was filthy, a pathetic piece of trash. Yet you accepted him as he was.

-Yeah, you aren’t ever escaping from him.

This ended up being longer than expected so it was more of a Drabble. Hope you enjoy, it took me too long to get around to it TwT

-> Property of ©ashton-sano; Don't post my content on any other platform without credit; much love^^

[orangeflowerr]

zoro with a clingy s/o? almost like luffy that just likes to hang on him or be on him at all times

[TOGETHER]

Synopsis: zoro x reader, fluff, reader is clingy towards him and he pretends to be annoyed. thanks so much for your request, I hope I did it justice! gif isn’t mine credits to the creator!

Zoro was not a man who enjoyed the affection of others but ever since you came along his tolerance only slightly increased. there wasn’t a moment in the day when you weren’t clinging onto some part of him. whether that be an intertwined pinky or hanging from his muscular arms.

As the Going Merry sailed the waters of the east blue, Zoro was lazing around at the bottom of the masts. arms resting on the nape of his neck, you were nestled beside him, one arm tracing shapes on his clothen chest and the other wrapped around his bicep.the green haired man huffed in feigned annoyance as you cling to him. although his body language said otherwise as his eyes closed at the sensation. he actually enjoyed the clinginess you displayed, missing it when you let go for just a second. he believed a level of stoicism should be maintained so as not to show how vulnerable he really could be. the only person who he entrusted with that side of himself was you, it was shown on rare occasions and today was one of those.

“I’ve gotta get up now.”

Zoro said as he tried to get up, your arm was entangling around him, entrapping him to the floor, so he couldn’t so much as sit up.

“Five more minutes.”

“No.”

He made another attempt albeit it was weak. he had no intention of getting up just yet, he just wanted to see you look at him with those pleading eyes.

“Please!”

you begged, looking at him with those eyes knowing he’d give in. your plan had worked or so you thought as he’d given up the fight ages ago.

“Fine, but no more than five minutes.”

wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer so you were practically on top of him. it was safe to say you both stayed like that a lot longer than five minutes.

Authors note: this is my first request and if anyone has any others feel free to send them! I’ll try to get to them as quickly as possible. proofread but there still might be mistakes. feedback is appreciated! 💗

[minchanfilm]

hiii! could you make an imagine about maki getting jelous and confessing please? thank you so much ♥

MOMENTS OF SILENCE

maki &team jealousy confession

pairing jealousmaki!&team x reader

warnings smooching and like two swear words towards the end

notes wow my first imagine guys i’m growing up so fast🥹🥹all jokes aside tho im actually really nervous to publish this so if it sucks i am so sorry

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

growing up next door to maki, you guys were known as the duo. you both were inseparable—you did everything together.

when maki decided he wanted to become an idol, you were the most supportive out of everyone. you stuck by his side through the whole process, and it only made your friendship grow even more.

when he was officially in &team and they had their debut, you were always the first to know everything that was going on — even the things that weren’t supposed to be out to the public yet.

now, a few years after their debut, you not only became friends with his members, but they see you as family as well.

your friendship with maki has also grown, but so have your feelings for him. you can’t help but notice how well maki has been aging. his features are striking — everything about him is attractive.

also, after you stopped getting taller and settled on a height, he just seems to keep growing. he towers over you, which you can’t help but find it undeniably hot when he has to look/lean down to talk to you.

on the other hand, you had a massive glow up too. learning how to take care of your skin, hair, and upping your style, maki can’t deny finding you to be the most beautiful girl he’s seen.

you don’t know that though. both of your feelings for each other has always gone unspoken for. the lingering touches and the admiring glances between you two had always been brushed off, neither of you wanting to confess.

you had always been touchy with each other, never making it weird. that’s why, as you’re sitting abnormally close to maki — practically laying on him — none of his members find it unusual. he has one arm wrapped casually around your waist, trapping you in his hold. you scroll through your phone, watching tiktoks until harua makes his way towards you guys.

you look up, giving him a smile. you feel maki tighten his hold around you as harua places himself next to you on the couch.

“hey y/n, i found some new ideas for our handshake,” harua says. “since we can’t seem to settle on a good one.”

maki tenses up at the mention of a handshake. thats always been your guys’ thing. and as much as he hates to admit it, the thought of you having a handshake with someone else made him incredibly jealous.

“alright, show me what you came up with,” you smile. you try to shift to the side to get a better view, but maki’s tight grip around you makes you unable to move. “maki, could you loosen up a bit? i can’t move.”

“sorry,” he mutters, not tearing his eyes away from the phone in his hand. he lets go of you ever so slightly, just barely allowing you to turn your body.

you furrow your brows, confused as to why he seems annoyed. you just decide to brush it off, and refocus on harua.

harua shows you his ideas, some of them more complex than the others. after a few minutes of trying to master the complex ones, you eventually decide to settle on the easier movements.

maki watches you both out of the corner of his eye, wishing that it was him making you laugh like harua is.

and not to mention the way your hands are all over each other (peep the hand in handshake), he doesn’t want anyone else touching you other than himself.

he loves but hates the way that his members care for you so much. he misses the times when it was a little awkward between everyone, so he had your full attention all the time.

now, he only gets to talk to you a minimal amount when you’re in the studio with him because his members are always wanting to hang out with you.

your loud laugh snaps him out of his trance, and he sees you grab harua’s arm from laughing so hard.

he looks away, not wanting to get more annoyed. he notices that his jealousy level has been unusually high today, making him quieter than normal.

you also caught onto his quietness earlier in the day, and you just assumed he was having a rough morning.

you had no idea that he was pissed because you were giving other people more attention.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

after messing around with harua for another hour or so, everyone completed their daily duties, and decided to head out.

you wait for maki patiently by the door as you bundle up in your coat, preparing yourself to walk home in the cold weather.

after a minute, maki finds you by the door and he holds it open for you, allowing you to walk outside. you’re both silent, as maki’s jealously level hasn’t fallen since the handshake incident.

the tension in the air is too noticeable, and you glance at him as you both make your way down the snowy sidewalk.

“are you okay?” you finally speak up, clouds of smoke coming out of your mouth from how cold the air is.

he only nods.

you stay quiet for a minute, not knowing what to say.

“…did i do something?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“do you like harua?” he blurts out after a moment of silence.

“of course i like harua,” you respond, your voice laced with confusion. “why wouldn’t i?”

“no, not like that,” he shakes his head, keeping his gaze ahead of him. “i mean, do you like-like him.”

“oh- oh. no, maki,” you laugh, but immediately stop when you see that he doesn’t find this amusing. “i love harua, only as a friend. why are you asking?”

another moment of silence.

“you guys just seem.. close. that’s all,” he says, glancing at you for the first time since you left the studio. the glance is piercing, his eyes dark and features slightly tightened. his jaw is clenched, and he keeps his hands in his pockets.

reverting his eyes back to the gloomy and misty sidewalk in front of him, you shiver.

but not from the cold.

“are you jealous or something?” you slightly smile, still wondering why he would be questioning this.

when he doesn’t respond, you start laughing.

“oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teasingly laugh. “maki, you’re literally my closest friend out of everyone i know. i don’t know why you think that i like harua more than you—“

“that’s not why i’m jealous,” he cuts you off, stopping in his tracks. you stop too, and you both turn to face each other.

“then why are you?”

he lets out a huff, looking everywhere but at you.

“because i like you, okay?”

silence overcomes the two of you again, for the hundredth time today.

“oh.” you’re not sure what to say.

“gosh, i’ve just—“ he pauses, looking around and running a stressed hand through his hair. “i began to like you ever since i told you i wanted to become an idol. you were so supportive of me, i just felt like you were the only person who truly cared for me.”

you reach your hand up in the middle of his speech, and run your fingers through his hair to brush the snowflakes out of it.

“i’ve been too scared to tell you, but seeing you all close with the other members just made me realize that i like having your attention maybe a little too much, and— can you stop that?” he swats at your hand that’s still brushing the snowflakes out.

you pull your hand away, “sorry. continue.”

but instead of continuing, he just stares at you.

silently.

the silence kills him.

“fuck it.”

he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into him, crashing your lips together. your eyes widen in shock for a moment before they flutter shut as you melt into his touch.

maki lets go of your neck and moves his hands to wrap around your waist, not once breaking the kiss. you place a hand on his chest, and you let the other gently grab his jaw.

you can feel your heart pounding against your chest as the kiss deepens. his lips feel unbelievably soft, and the unusual warmth between the two of you — given that it’s barely even 20° — makes you never want to let go of each other.

you eventually have to though.

as you slowly pull apart, you rest your forehead against his, still holding onto his jaw. maki lets out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding.

“so…” you pull your head away from him, reluctantly letting go of his jaw.

“don’t even say anything,” he says, and as you pull away, you get a clear view of how flustered he is.

“alright, i won’t,” you shrug, feeling how red your cheeks are too.

you grab his hand, and resume your walk back home in a comfortable silence.

[heartfullofleeches]

Deerboy Yan who tries to get himself caught in cannibal hunter reader's nets so they'll take him back to their home where they'll hopefully have their way with him and keep him as their pet-

"Ahhh- Help! I was walking home all by myself when I felt into this net. It's getting dark soon- Somebody, please save me."

The switch of a pocket blade slices through the still night air. His ears twitch as a twig snaps somewhere in the darkness brooding over his shoulder. Exhilaration draws at the corner of his lips as a voice rasps out- eerily calming as it is dreadfully familar. Like a second kiss with death.

"These traps aren't for you, Deer."

A single cut is all it takes for the net to come crashing to the forest floor.

"Not enough meat on your bones for me. You aren't exactly my preferred choice of meat to start off with."

The deer claws his way out of the net's opening. The drop wasn't too steep, and he needed to act quick. He's been in enough of your safer traps to know his way out - nine times out of ten. Dragging his nails and body through the dirt, the net's rope tangles around his hooves as he struggles. The hybrid tries to kick it off till near exhaustion- flopping onto his back as he kicks his tied legs in the air for you to see.

"But look at what how clumsy I am. It would be so easily for you to drag me back to your house like this.... Using me for hours till I can't fight back anymore when you finally decide to free me."

You turn to walk away.

"You know I think I'd be good bait for other humans."

You stop dead in your tracks.

"A weak, helpless deer chained up in that old slaughter house. "Help, Help! They're going to kill and eat me next. Please, won't somebody save me?" Pretty convincing, right? Just think about all the meat you could have - if you just take me home with you."

A squeal of joy escapes the hybrid's lips as you grab him by the antler's - pulling him along in the direction of your cabin.

[moechies]

rrr the yummiest threesome with phinks and shalnark <3 head so fuzzy about big cock phinks pulling your little white panties to the side for easy access to that plush little cunt, and having no remorse despite your little cries of how big he is and how it hurts. and shalnark <3 he’s so baby and yes .. he does feel bad for you in the slightest so he helps to satiate the pain by suckling at that pretty little clit and jerking himself off. he can’t have a pretty lady in even more stress than phinks has bestowed upon you …

ʚ♡ɞ

“stop squirmin’ around…” phinks grunts, readjusting your leg previously propped up onto his shoulder. he tugs at your hips, nudging himself impossibly deeper against your plush walls. “p—phinks!” you mewl, chewing down at your bottom lip to halt your cries. your nails drag down against his bicep, eliciting a hiss.

“fuck,” phinks sighs, peering down at the sight of your swollen cunt swallowing him whole. “t—this is the shit.” the brute grunts, thumbing at your folds and tugging the sticky fabric further to the side.

“no kidding.” the blonde man besides you grins, meeting your teary eyes with a soft hum. “so good for us, girl. mhm.” shalnark hums, pressing down harshly at your clit. “s—shal..” you drag out a whine, a subconscious beg for mercy. “s’—s’mean..”

“mm, it’ll be okay.” he assures with a hum and a soft peck to the tip of your nose. “doing so good for us already. hold out a little, yeah?” he presses a gentle kiss across your eyelids, blocking your view off from the perverted sight of his right hand reaching into his pants. your eyes flutter open anyway — especially when you hear a soft groan fall from the plush lips of the man.

“hnn !” you’re caught off guard by a harsh thrust to your cunt,

“little thing, you best not forget who’s fucking you here just ‘cause shal’s sweetmouthin’ you.”

“s—sorry!” you whine damn sweetly, making phinks scoff.

you’re damn pretty. phinks wouldn’t admit it out loud — shalnark would though — but your pretty little body, the back pliant against the snow sheets, the front against the two men, a gorgeous gleam of sweat painting your soft skin — you’re a perfect little thing. he’s sure shalnark’s thinking the same thing.

he continues his mean strokes to your cunt, humping sloppily against your plush thighs with load groans. you reciprocate with soft whines and hiccups, mewling loudly when you feel warm, sticky balls slap against the fat of your ass.

“fuck, wan’ taste.” shal groans from besides you — removing his thumb from your clit and wasting no time before replacing it with his plush lips. your back arches almost painfully, a shrill squeak elicited from your lips when he suckles meanly at the bundle of nerves, humming against the sensitive flesh. you don’t miss the way the mattress recoils gently from shalnark’s mean pumps to his heavy cock — lewd swipes across the dewy slit of his cock head to soothe the ache. “so shweet,” shalnark whines, “like sap or hh..honey..”

“y’rarely c—cuss, shal. pussy’s got ya in a chokehold?” phinks hisses, not missing the new angle he’s fucking you at after your sudden arch. with another brutal thrust, you feel phinks’ pudgy tip browse across your cervix, causing a loud yelp. “p—phinks h.. hurts!”

“my bad, pretty lady. i can’t say s’all my fault though, y’r asking for it with a damn pretty body like this.” phinks hums, hips stuttering and growing sloppy as his pace quickens. shal’s losing himself too — moaning endlessly around your abused clit — accidently swiping his tongue over where you too connect. “s—shal, damn pervert.” phinks growls, and shalnark only whines in response.

you feel your pussy flutter around the man, stomach aching and yearning for release. “p—phinks, shal.. gon’ cum, gon’ cum, please!” you hiccup, pretty manicure etched into his forearm. “phi—phinks, help me..”

“you got it pretty lady.” the man huffs, pressing his shaft wholly deep into you with no remorse. shal does his job effectively as well — softly nibbling at your clit and that does it.

your pussy clenches endlessly around phinks’ aching cock, slathering the shaft in warm white cream — the two returning the favor. “fuckin’ choking him,” phinks grunts as he cums his thick, viscous spent into your worn cunt, so much that it drools from the sides when he pulls away even in the slightest.

you whimper at the loss from inside, and even shalnark’s detachment from your clit. you turn your head slightly to meet the boy’s cerulean eyes, met with lidded eyes and blushed cheeks. you peer down and don’t miss the viscous nut that coats his hands and dirtied the cloth of his pants —

spiders spin webs after all. ♥︎

[snail-day]

This is your home!

TW: Yandere behaviors, Kidnapped-ish Reader, Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, Older man x College student! Reader, Toxic relationship, Drugging, trapping. Gn! Reader

Wc: 1.3k

It seems like only a year ago you attempted to break up with your partner.

No—my deepest apologies—you tried to break up with your partner.

You see, he was the kind of lover who made you feel trapped. A man a few years older than you, with a stable job and a steady income, who somehow managed to fall for a mere college student.

That should have been your first red flag.

He begged you to move in, claiming your co-ed dorms weren’t exactly the safest. Did you really enjoy sharing a shower room with strangers? Was that the kind of life you wanted?

So, of course, you followed the hand that fed you. You were young, naive, and far too eager to believe in happily-ever-afters.

You moved in—why wouldn’t you? He was handsome, older, and confident, and his apartment was immaculate, with matching furniture. A dream for any broke college student.

He made space for you. A little nook for your “silly toys,” he’d tease, smiling warmly over his shoulder. He even set up a desk for you in his office so you could “spend more time together.” That is, until you spent that time playing video games instead of working on your finals.

He’d always find a way to scold you for it.

And then he started paying for your tuition.

At first, you refused—it was too much, and you had scholarships to rely on. But those scholarships suddenly disappeared. The donor funding your education pulled out, no explanation given.

So he stepped in. Your dutiful boyfriend.

He even showed you a spreadsheet, breaking down the mountain of debt you’d accumulate if you didn’t let him help. What choice did you have?

You felt bought out.

You felt like you’d sold yourself.

Desperate to regain some independence, you took up a part-time job. But even that became a problem. “I have money, let me take care of you,” he’d say, exasperated. Or worse: “Why are you working so hard when I’m here to make life easier for you?”

Still, you pushed back. For a little while, at least.

Until the day they let you go—just like that.

These strange occurrences… they made you overthink—his words, not yours—as you sat across from him at the café.

Your hands trembled as you raised the coffee cup to your lips, the warmth doing little to steady your nerves.

“Let’s break up,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced away from his piercing gaze.

You caught the flicker of heartbreak in his beautiful eyes, a pain so raw it almost made you falter.

“I’m the problem, not you,” you continued, your words wavering like the hand that held your cup. “I just… I just need to get my life together.”

For a moment, there was only silence. The bustling café around you felt muted, like the world was holding its breath. His gaze remained fixed on you, unblinking, unwavering.

“That’s not fair,” he finally said, his voice calm, but there was a tension in it—a barely restrained crack.

Your chest tightened as you stared into the dark swirls of your coffee, avoiding the weight of his eyes. “It’s for the best,” you murmured.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, fingers threading together as if he were holding himself together. “For the best? For who? You?” His tone was soft, coaxing, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.

You nodded, though the motion felt hollow.

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “You’re not making sense. You say you need to get your life together, but I’m right here. I’ve always been here. Isn’t that enough?”

It wasn’t enough. That was the problem.

You swallowed hard, daring a glance at him. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line. Those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes of his—once so warm—now felt like they were cutting straight through you.

“I need space,” you said, forcing the words out before they could dissolve into cowardice. “I need to figure things out on my own.”

His hand moved across the table, fingers brushing yours. It was a tender gesture, but it felt like a trap. You pulled back instinctively, and his expression darkened, just for a moment.

“Space?” he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “I see.”

But he didn’t. You knew he didn’t.

He wasn’t the kind of man who accepted things like this easily. You could feel it—the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior, the questions he was desperate to ask but refused to voice.

“You’re just… throwing everything away?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “After everything we’ve built together?”

Guilt stabbed at you, sharp and unrelenting. “I’m not throwing it away. I just need to…” You trailed off, searching for the right words, but they evaded you, leaving behind an aching emptiness.

The sound of a plate clattering in the distance made you flinch. He didn’t. He just stared at you, his gaze so intense it felt suffocating.

“Is there someone else?” he asked suddenly, his voice low but steady, like he was bracing himself for the answer.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! It’s not like that.”

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to lie to me. You owe me that much.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted, the desperation in your tone surprising even yourself. “This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about me.”

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

You froze, the words hitting harder than they should have.

“I guess I should’ve seen this coming,” he said, leaning back in his chair once more. His eyes flicked to the window beside you, watching the rain drizzle against the glass. “You always did have one foot out the door.”

The knot in your throat tightened, but you didn’t respond. What could you say?

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the space between you feeling insurmountable.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and stood, tossing a few bills onto the table. “If this is what you want,” he said, his voice void of the warmth it once held, “then I won’t stop you.”

But as he turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. Not really.

You managed to find a new apartment—a cheap, incredibly cheap one. The kind of place where the pipes rattled and the paint on the walls peeled if you so much as looked at it wrong. You had to take out a loan just to secure it, and as you stared at the mountain of paperwork, you felt the weight of your choices pressing down on you.

What had you been doing for the past year? Locked away in some castle. You almost cried just thinking about it.

The move was exhausting. Box after box filled with remnants of a life you didn’t recognize anymore. You left some things behind—things he’d given you, or things you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. It felt like shedding skin, leaving those pieces of yourself in the apartment you once shared.

A month passed in strained silence. You hadn’t heard from him, but you felt his presence everywhere. The way your phone seemed heavier in your pocket. The way every knock on the door made your heart jump. You told yourself it was paranoia, that he’d moved on.

Until one day, your phone lit up with a call.

His name stared back at you, bold and glaring.

You froze. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The phone rang once. Then twice. Then thrice.

You didn’t answer.

When it finally stopped, the voicemail icon appeared, along with a text. You hesitated before opening it, your breath catching as you read the message.

"Can we talk?"

That was all it said.

But it wasn’t just the message. Attached to it was a picture.

Your chest tightened as you opened the image.

It was of your desk. Your old desk. The one from his office. On it sat your “small little toys”—the ones he used to tease you about. The picture was perfectly framed, almost artistic in its composition.

He still had your things. Of course, he did.

You told yourself you should’ve picked them up by now. That you’d been putting it off because you couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing him again.

But now… now you weren’t sure if going back was an option.

Your phone buzzed again, and you jumped.

Another text:

“You forgot these. They’re waiting for you.”

Something about the message sent a chill down your spine.

Waiting. That word lingered in your mind, heavy and suffocating.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You could just ignore him, pretend you hadn’t seen the message. But deep down, you knew he wouldn’t stop. Not until you answered.

And the worst part?

You weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

You told yourself you were overthinking. The picture, the message—it was just him being thoughtful, wasn’t it? After all, he was a caring guy. Always had been.

You stared at the text again. “They’re waiting for you.”

Your things. That’s all he meant.

Still, you hesitated. The memory of his voice, so calm and steady in the voicemail, echoed in your mind. It wasn’t like him to sound so… subdued. You’d expected anger, bitterness—anything but that gentle request.

Maybe you owed him this much. A chance to talk, to clear the air.

You typed out a quick reply:

“Okay. When?”

His response came almost immediately, as though he’d been waiting for you.

“Tonight. I’ll make dinner.”

Dinner. Of course, he’d turn this into a gesture of kindness. That was just like him—always going the extra mile, always making you feel like you were the center of his world. It had been suffocating at times, sure, but it wasn’t bad. Was it?

The memory of his smile tugged at your mind, warm and genuine, the kind of smile that made you feel like everything would be okay. You wanted to believe in that version of him, even now.

So, that evening, you found yourself standing outside his door. The apartment looked the same as you remembered—pristine, welcoming, like it had been plucked straight from a magazine. You knocked hesitantly, the sound of it feeling too loud in the quiet hallway.

The door opened almost instantly.

He stood there, his face lighting up at the sight of you. “You came,” he said, his voice filled with relief.

“I—yeah. For my stuff,” you replied, shifting awkwardly.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. I just finished cooking.”

The smell of something delicious wafted out, warm and inviting. It made your stomach twist—not from hunger, but from the strange mixture of nostalgia and unease settling in your chest.

You stepped inside, your gaze sweeping over the apartment. It was exactly how you left it. No, that wasn’t right. It was better. Cleaner. More organized. Your things, the ones you’d left behind, were neatly arranged in the same spots they used to occupy.

It was like you’d never left.

“I made your favorite,” he said, leading you to the dining table. The plates were already set, the soft glow of candlelight dancing across the surface. It was the kind of effort he always put in, the kind that used to make you feel special.

But now, it felt… off.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you said, forcing a smile as you sat down.

He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “It’s no trouble. I just want you to feel comfortable.”

Comfortable. That’s what he always said when you’d been upset, when you’d tried to pull away.

The dinner was good—perfect, even. He talked about small things, work, how he’d been keeping busy. He didn’t ask about your new apartment, didn’t press you for details about your life. If anything, he seemed… patient.

When the plates were cleared and the conversation lulled, he stood and gestured toward the office. “Your things are in there. I packed them up for you.”

You followed him, your steps hesitant. The office looked exactly as you remembered it, down to the way your desk was arranged. Your “small little toys” were lined up neatly on the shelf, untouched except for the care he’d taken to clean the dust from them.

“I didn’t want you to feel rushed,” he said softly, watching as you looked over the room. “I know how much these meant to you.”

You glanced back at him, guilt prickling at your chest. He was smiling, that same warm smile that always made you feel safe. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t place.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice quiet.

He nodded, stepping closer. Too close. You could feel the warmth of his presence, the subtle shift in the air as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, almost tender, “you don’t have to go. You can stay here, where it’s safe.”

The words were kind, caring. But they lingered in the air, heavy with implication.

“I can’t,” you said, stepping back. “I—I have to go.”

His hand dropped to his side, his smile faltering for just a moment before it returned, softer, gentler. “Of course,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed hard and turned away, focusing on the task at hand. You quickly grabbed your little trinkets, each one feeling heavier than it should as you set them into the small box he had left out for you. The edges of your vision blurred slightly, and your mind felt strangely… woozy.

“You feeling alright?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, and you could hear the smile in it even though you weren’t looking at him.

“I’m fine,” you said, but your voice sounded far away, almost like it wasn’t yours.

The room seemed to tilt ever so slightly, and you reached out to steady yourself against the desk. The surface felt cool under your fingertips, grounding you just enough to stay upright.

“I don’t know,” he said, stepping closer, his tone a mockery of concern. “You look a little pale.”

Your head turned toward him, but your movements were sluggish. His figure was close now—too close—and his smile, while soft, seemed sharper somehow, like it could cut you if you looked at it the wrong way.

“You’ve been so stressed lately,” he continued, his voice dripping with honeyed care. “All this running around, all this independence... It’s no wonder you’re not feeling well.”

“I just need to—” You stopped, the words slipping from your mind as quickly as they’d formed.

“Shh,” he murmured, reaching out to steady you, his hands gentle as they guided you back against the desk. “It’s okay. Let me take care of you.”

“I—” You tried to pull away, but your body wasn’t cooperating. Your legs felt like lead, your arms heavy and limp.

“There we go,” he whispered, his voice almost soothing as he adjusted his grip, cradling you like you might break. “Let’s get you back to where you belong.”

The words sank into you like cold water, and your heart pounded in your chest. “I don’t—”

But your voice was weak, and the edges of your vision darkened as your knees gave way.

He caught you, of course. He always did. His arms were steady, strong, and terrifyingly familiar as you seemed to melt into them.

“You’ll see,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple as the darkness closed in. “This is for the best. You’ll understand soon enough.”

The last thing you heard was the faint click of the lock turning.

When you woke up, it was in a bed you knew well—his bed. The familiar scent of expensive lavender laundry detergent and faint cologne clung to the sheets, grounding you in a way that made your head spin.

Your body felt heavy, but there was no immediate pain. Just a dull, aching tiredness, like you’d slept too long.

The soft shuffle of footsteps drew your attention, and he appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of food. His face lit up when he saw you were awake.

“There you are,” he said, his voice warm and soothing. “I was starting to worry.”

You blinked at him, your mind foggy. “What… happened?”

“You fainted,” he explained, setting the tray down on the nightstand. “I knew you weren’t feeling well, but I didn’t think it was this bad. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“I need to go home,” you murmured, though the words felt weak, half-hearted.

He crouched beside the bed, his hand reaching out to brush the hair from your face. “You’re not going anywhere until you’re better,” he said softly, but there was an edge of finality in his tone. “I can’t let you hurt yourself like this.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sincerity in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He wasn’t angry—far from it. He looked… concerned. Genuinely so.

“I made another one of your favorites,” he said, gesturing to the tray. “You need to eat something. Please.”

And somehow, you did.

The first week passed in a haze. He was always there, tending to you with quiet patience and a gentle touch. He cooked your meals, brought you tea, even read to you when you were too tired to focus on your own.

When you’d ask to leave, he’d smile, tilting his head like you’d just said something silly. “Why would you want to leave when you’re safe here?” he’d ask, his tone light, affectionate. “This is your home.”

At first, you resisted. You’d test the locks when he wasn’t looking, search for your phone, try to reason with him. But each time, he’d find you.

And each time, he’d reassure you.

“I know this is hard,” he’d say, holding you close as you fought back tears. “But I promise, I’m doing this because I love you. Because I can’t bear to see you hurt yourself.”

The way he said it—so tenderly, so earnestly—made it harder to argue.

Months passed.

Your protests grew quieter, your attempts to leave less frequent. He never raised his voice, never hurt you. Instead, he smothered you in kindness, his care so unwavering it became impossible to distinguish from love.

He brought you little gifts—books he thought you’d like, your favorite snacks, new clothes in your size. He’d sit with you for hours, talking about everything and nothing, his laughter warm and infectious.

And slowly, bit by bit, you began to feel it: the comfort of his presence, the safety of his arms.

You still thought about leaving sometimes. But every time you’d imagine the cold, lonely world outside, his face would appear in your mind, smiling, reassuring.

“I take care of you,” he’d remind you. “No one else will.”

And part of you started to believe him.

A year later, the apartment felt less like a prison and more like a sanctuary. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You’d stopped counting the days a long time ago. The routine he built for you was too carefully crafted, too comforting in its predictability. Meals prepared before you asked, your favorite books always within reach, even the temperature of the room adjusted to perfection. He knew what you needed before you did.

But tonight, something felt different.

He sat beside you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as always, his fingers idly tracing circles on your arm. The television played softly in the background, though neither of you were paying attention.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. But there was an edge beneath it, subtle but sharp, like a blade hidden beneath silk.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I’m fine,” you replied, offering a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

He tilted his head, his gaze soft but probing. “Thinking about what?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, looking away.

His hand stilled against your arm.

“I hope you’re not thinking about leaving me,” he said, his voice so soft it made your skin crawl.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “I’m not,” you said, too quickly.

He smiled then, that same warm, reassuring smile that had once made you feel safe. But now, it felt like a mask. “Good,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because you know what happens when you try.”

Your stomach twisted, memories flashing through your mind.

The first time you’d tried to escape, you’d woken up hours later, your body weak and trembling, with him at your bedside, his expression one of heartbreak. “You scared me,” he’d said, brushing a hand through your hair. “I can’t lose you. Don’t ever do that again.”

The second time, he hadn’t been so kind. His voice had been cold, his eyes devoid of warmth as he’d pinned you against the wall, his hand gripping your wrist just hard enough to bruise. “I love you,” he’d whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “But if you try to leave me again, I’ll have to show you how much.”

You hadn’t tried since.

Now, as you sat beside him, the weight of his arm around you felt suffocating. You nodded mutely, your hands curling into fists in your lap.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” he said, his voice bright again, as though nothing had happened.

He reached for the remote, turning off the television, and stood. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to you. “Let’s go to bed.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was firm, steady, like an anchor pulling you under.

As he led you to the bedroom, his fingers intertwined with yours, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

The person staring back at you was a stranger—someone small, broken, and unrecognizable.

But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Because as he closed the bedroom door behind you, the lock clicking into place, you knew one thing for certain:

You weren’t going anywhere.

And neither was he.

Characters:

BNHA: Hawks, Dabi, Endeavor

AOT: Erwin, Zeke, Levi

JJK: Gojo, Geto, Nanami...(maybe Yuta...if he was older)

HxH: Chrollo, Illumi, Hisoka

[2-dsimp]

☏Monster Hunter Hotline!☏

Cw: MDNI suggestive, fem monster hunter x yandere monster callers, CYOA based.

≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

You’re the absolute worst monster hunter in the business. And yet you still keep getting hired for for missions. Why?

Well with your track record of being a public monster apologist.

It’s no wonder the creature’s you’ve initially sworn to hunt down see you as a utter joke. And so does your community, they’ve basically disowned you from being apart of any group missions.

However, the monsters weren’t about to let their pretty little plaything know that they’ve got the plug pulled on em.

So they’ve started hiring you themselves, anonymously pretending to be human of course.

I mean what kind of monster would turn down the chance to meet an adorable little human hunter who can’t even do their job right.

And possibly miss out on the opportunity of fucking them silly after every “mission”? Not them of course. They’ve been eyeing you for a long time waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

They’re absolutely ravenous, and dying to get their claws, tentacles, feelers, pinchers, ect. On sweet little you.

D̺͆r̺͆a̺͆g̺͆o̺͆n̺͆ a̺͆s̺͆s̺͆i̺͆g̺͆n̺͆m̺͆e̺͆n̺͆t̺͆!̺͆ H̺͆a̺͆s̺͆ b̺͆e̺͆e̺͆n̺͆ c̺͆h̺͆o̺͆s̺͆e̺͆n̺͆!̺͆

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

♡_________________________________________________________

The word 'obsession' is a mild word if it's referring to him but it's the only word that can describe what he feels on an everyday basis. What he feels is beyond worldly tags on feelings and emotions, words are just words afterall and words always falls short.

He loves, he hates, he adores, he loathes, he swoons, he has the very impulsive thought of killing you with his own hands while he watches the life leave your eyes, he wants to hold you close and never want to see the light burn out in your eyes, he doesn't know what he wants when it comes to you but in the end, it's all words- he'll truly never be able to tell you how he feels.

Despite the constant conflict of emotions in him, he never thought of letting you go. That's not even a choice, the words itself has a meaning in his dictionary, sure but when it comes together? It's a sham of a word, a phrase to be precise, a crude mockery of it to be exact. It's a sentence that doesn't make sense nor should it make sense because why would he ever do that? He loves you, He hates you.

It's confusing really, he loves you to the point that he can kill you. Obsession? A mild word as stated before, the want on keeping you locked up all for him is always in conflict with the want on taking you around the world and spoiling you rotten, allowing you to be free and flourish rather than caged and wither but- there will always be a 'but' since all he wants is to do both, the former and the latter. Both sounds so good, he can't really decide. Until then, you can live your life without the knowledge of turmoil in him, enjoy it while you can.

But maybe one day, he'll finally snap. Snap and make his final decision on what he wants to do with you and your life, make the final decision on how you're gonna spend the rest of your life or maybe he'll come to a realization, the truth of it all in a poetic sense.

He hates the fact that he loves you or he loves the fact that you hate him, No in-between.

He loves you enough to possibly kill you. A bad ending of a sort or a mercy in a twisted sort of way, It's all upto you in the end.

Love could kill? Words always falls short but for him, those three words means more to him than 'I love you' or any of those other 3 words squashed together to make a phrase. Love can kill and it means literally but only if you're referring to him, that is.

He just loves you enough to kill you.

♡_________________________________________________________

Characters when they go Yandere! Lol? I felt poetic and a tad bit lazy to write anything else.

Applies to :

Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Chrollo, Feitan, Hisoka, Illumi, Dabi, Nagumo, L

Im out of characters but who do you think this could apply to?

Masterlist

[quackstr]

late night hours

summary: boss!walter takes you in his office

tags: porn what plot, workplace sex, riding, blowjob/oral sex (m receiving), female reader, use of “slut”

word count: 2.2k

inspiration: rework of a fic of reader x karl mayer, which was inspired by his relationshop with bree.

it all started with a little of wine in his dimly lit office.

just hours later, you ended up laid on top his desk, your legs spread with him between. there was no time for careful undressing, the detective was simply too impatient for that: there were more buttons ripped apart and zips undone with teeth than clothes being handled appropriately and slowly.

and when he FINALLY pulls that tight little dress off of you, he relishes in the sight of your matching black lingerie, which tells one simple truth: you'd been planning this way before you even walked in.

walter was the type to be absolutely clueless to the effect he had on the ladies: what with his tall, muscular frame that had him towering over anyone. so perfect, yet so humble. which somehow made it worse…

you let him whisper sweet nothings with that deep, smooth voice as he sucks at your exposed neck before pushing him down to his chair with your stiletto. walter gives a low whistle as your heel slowly traces his chest, downwards towards his crotch. the shoe playfully rubs and teases him, repeating this taunting motion until walter is groaning.

"fuck-- baby- you're killing me over here--" he moans out, a smirk growing across his lips.

"am i?" you tease.

once you were satisfied with his begs, you jump off the desk and immediately fall to your knees. walter watches excitedly as you take your place between his thighs, removing his sweater and tossing it to the floor like every article of clothing before it.

you unfasten his belt, making sure to keep eye contact the whole time. eventually, after releasing himself from the prison of his pants, walter blows a deep sigh of relief.

you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and leave soft, sloppy kisses down his chest, producing a trail of red lipstick stamps.

then, you lick at his muscular abdomen and lower your point of worship at a leisurely pace, until you reach his cock, aching and throbbing as if it were about to jump out of his boxers at any moment. drooling, you mouth at it through the fabric, walter’s low growls filling the air.

it is a pathetic, yet hauntingly beautiful sight: your panting around the imprint of his dick and sniffing at his intoxicating scent.

"oh, baby, you're drooling everywhere." he teased.

you scowl at him.

biting down on his boxers, you gradually manage to pull it down with just your teeth - walter watches with a smug look on his face, sinking back into his seat.

a groan spills from his lips as you pull down his boxers, unleashing his dick… all 7 inches..

you gulp - his cock is monstrous in length and girth.

veins trace the length and it seems to throb with your teasing touches, begging for more. as if your body moved by itself, his tip slips between your lips.

it feels hot. warmth fills your mouth as his dick sinks down your throat.

"good girl." a low grumble leaves his lips.

his words tremble as his cock disappears between your lips, and for the 3 inches which still evade your lips by the time you start to gag, you wrap your hand around and began to massage.

his girth is so impressive so even your hand struggles to handle him. for the length lodged inside your mouth, you give a gentle sunction.

"do you know how sexy you look with my cock down your throat?"

his hand moves to the back of your head, giving light guidance to your movement. the room fills with your lewd sucking noises. walter’s hand urges you to take more and more.

you allow him to push you down until your lips reach the base. mere seconds pass before you begin to struggle and gag uncontrollably, and a few more seconds pass before walter releases the back of your head.

"look at you, taking me so well--" he chuckles at your panting.

you take a second to catch your breath before you return to working. you can hear him suck in air sharply as you envelope one of his balls. walter groans as he leans back further in his chair.

"if i'd known what a good little cocksucker you were, I would've had you down here ages ago." he laughs.

"shut up." you spit out between gentle sucks, glaring at him as you stroke the length of his cock.

"love it when you talk back." walter says, holding up your hair into a ponytail as you return to sucking his length. he was a secret control freak, and as much as he loved watching you take the lead, he thought you had been doing that for long enough now.

just as he gently pushed down on your head, walter slowly lifts his leg and gently presses his heel into the flesh of your ass, driving you closer to him and goading more of his cock deeper inside your throat.

tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you continue to take as much of walter as he needed. you study his reactions, taking note of what he likes. quite funnily, walter’s eyes always seem to roll back into his head whenever you tease the slit of his tip; equally, you could never swirl your tongue around his dick without hearing a series of praises and grunts.

"fuck, baby, i'm so close---!" he groans out.

with those words, you quicken your pace, your head bobbing up and down with an impressive velocity. his hips begin to roll uncontrollably, shoving more of himself in you. your tongue presses against the underside of his cock, twisting and working with great drive.

walter drinks up the delicious sight, only made hotter by your submission to his hand. if only he could have you here, underneath his desk and working at his cock, during the day.

walter grunts loudly again and you feel his cock twitch violently inside your mouth.

"yea- here it comes, baby." you stifle your gag reflex and sheathe the entirety of his dick down your throat, choking as your feel the warm release pour down your throat.

for a few moments too long, walter holds your head down, rutting into you and releasing the final pieces of himself deep inside.

your head shoots up, having swallowed all his cum, albeit not without any struggle. still, walter continues to pump at his cock and hold your head at the crown of his cock. pushing your tongue out and awaiting the last of his load, the final ropes of cum spurt out.

however, you severely underestimate the power at which his cum shoots out, because whilst some of his load lands on your tongue as planned, it shoots across your whole face, including your lips, nose and eyelids.

with his index and middle fingers, walter wiped his semen off your face, scooping up the entirety and holding it to your lips.

"suck it."

your lips part to his demand and swallow his fingers. he urges his thick fingers inside until the knuckles were at your lips. walter presses his fingers onto your tongue, forcing his flavours around the inside of your mouth. your eyes showed hunger and he was feeding you.

walter taps his thigh, and you straddle his lap, his fingers still entrapped by your lips. then, incredibly slowly, he releases his fingers with a POP.

he draws you in for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. walter tastes himself on your tongue, and he loves how fucking filthy it is. your roll your hips into his dick, already growing hard again, and your ass is met by a firm smack on your ass and a loud yelp falling from your lips.

walter’s fingers tease at your pussy through the fabric whilst he laughes at your soft moans and whimpers. unable to support yourself, your arms wrap around his neck, with your head falling into his neck and inhaling his aftershave.

"you're soaked for me, baby," he teases as he continues to play with you like a toy. "been deprived of a good time for a while, haven't you?"

his hand slips inside your panties and presses himself between your lips. you hover over the man's cock, somehow already fully erect again, as you rock your hips into his fingers.

your moans are really loud. fortunately for the two of you, everyone else had already gone home: the two of you could be as noisy as you wanted, which walter almost definitely plans for you to. he mercilessly plays with your pussy, stunned at how your body reacts so beautifully to his touch.

you are too overcome with rapture to notice a strong arm wrap around and undo your bra in one swift movement. he grabs your tit, squeezing it tight.

in the same breath, you slip out of your panties, your entrance pressing against his aching cock. walter hugs you close, squeezing you against his well-built hairy chest. as he leans over to grab a condom, walter accidentally causes you to grind against his cock - the two of you moan out in unison.

walter rolls the condom on and feeds a generous glob of spit to his cock, rubbing it around. you place your hands on his shoulder before you lower yourself, allowing his dick to sink up slowly into your pussy.

whimpers escape your mouth. walter was just so fucking big.

"good girl--" he sigs, his nostrils flaring. "you're taking my cock so well."

you exhale in pleasure as you began to take in more and more of him. struggling to take in his beastly size, you hug him tight, though it results in his face buried in your tits. walter laps up a nipple and gives gentle suctions to your breast.

eventually, walter bottoms out with a deep groan erupting from his lips. his dick seems to press against your deepest insides. the two of you simply keep still for a few seconds, though it feels more like minutes. then, you begin to move again.

at first, it is slow and sensual, with the two of you falling into a passionate kiss, which seems to last forever and taste like paradise. his lips are soft yet hungry. his tongue is rough yet loving. his hands are gentle yet greedy. hips roll against eachother and you allow yours to rock deliciously into his body.

still with slow movements, walter grabs your hips and start to fuck upwards into your pussy. you match his pace and meet his tender thrusts. however, the absolute avarice in his eyes tells you that this gentleness and patience won’t last for too long.

and almost as if you had jinxed it, walter’s expression transitions to a smirk. the second warning is his tightening grasp on your hips, before his pace quickens suddenly.

as his rhythm evolves from leisurely to merciless, your moans fill the room, "oh- my- god-!"

"fuck- baby, you're fucking squeezing me." he almost reprimands, though the smile on his face suggests only bliss.

a harsh slap meets your ass.

fucking up into you at an ungodly speed, walter hugs you close by the hips. with no other choice, you collapse onto him, clutching him by his black curls.

“some good dick can turn any good girl into a naughty girl.” he teases.

“ngh-“ you’re too crazed to make any intelligible response. and walter smiles with self-satisfaction from watching you break yourself on his cock.

you pant out with each deep thrust.

“yes- yes- yes-“

suddenly, he slows and lets you go, leaning back into a relaxed position. a firm smack to your ass prompts you into moving again.

with your hands places on his chest for support, you throw your ass onto his dick. not quite meeting walter’s speed nor his ruthlessness, but it’s close.

walter leans back on his arms behind his head, amused from watching your feeble attempts to take his cock.

you regain your composure as your swirl your hips faster and ground into walter more and more. even for just a split second, you see his smug disguise slip, revealing an expression of pure lust.

you throw your head back as you feel your climax approach.

"what a good fucking slut." walter praises as his hands return to your ass and hips.

"yes-! yes--!" you exclaim through an exceptionally deep thrust. “hnghh!!"

his rhythm returns to his previous velocity - except that it is way sloppier.

"say it." walter says between grunts. "say that- you're just a dirty- little- slut— for me to fuck."

"i'm just dirty little slut!" you reply.

another smack.

"a dirty little slut for who?" walter chuckles darkly.

"just for you to fuck and nothing else!”

"good girl." he whispers as he holds you close.

he’s close too, you feel it. his noises are louder. his thrusts are reckless and his speed is slowing. and when you push down hard on his cock, walter just has to still.

"i'm close." he mutters weakly.

"already?"

fucker. you KNEW what you had done to him. your work to tease his cock so expertly was to be at blame.

“walter—“

“come for me.”

his sloppy thrusts grow faster as the two of you cry out in desperation and hunger. you embrace each other tightly as you finally let go of yourselves

the pleasure overwhelms you as you succumb to your orgasm. you slump over walter, who, too, chases his own high, eventually riding it out by swirling your hips around his cock, almost as if to tease out the last of his seed.

although breathless, your lips meet for a tired, messy kiss. walter’s tongue delves into your mouth and presses against your own as if it’s the last droplet of water in a desert.

[ashton-sano]

HxH: Feitan w/ a Strong! S/o Pt.1(?)

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`>When I say strong, the reader, in this case, would be as physically capable and have nen and/or abilities comparable to Feitan. I see a lot of headcanons but not many like this

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`>Getting back into the HXH fandom slowly so while I'm working on some more Food Wars! Content, have these since this gremlin has been plaguing my mind lol. If this gets enough love, ill make a part 2 so tell me what you all think :3

Warning: Murder, Stalking and Strong language

So if you a minor, beware.

.

-To start, he might be a tad put off

-It's pretty rare to find someone with such prowess, especially ones that don't have less than-savory intentions

-Id assume you met on a battlefield of some kind or while he was on one of his missions with the troupe

-Just like him, you aren't exactly the upstanding citizen type and are committing crimes of some sort when you encounter

-Whether stealing the same things or killing the same people, you two have similar goals, regardless of the reason

-To be fair, he didn't think much of you when you first appeared

  "How. Troublesome...."

-An annoying obstacle, someone to dispatch quickly

-However, after a rather tedious fight and a good amount of bruises, he realized it might not be that simple

-Your moves were calculated and precise, and your battle iq no doubt honed over years of experience with nen abilities that even he found difficult to handle

-His interest was certainly piqued, as much as it can for Feitan anyway

-You’ll hand it to him; its been a while since you've seen his level of strength

-A true master of his craft, no doubt

-Regardless, that isn't why you were here

-You came to rid of a target and with your mission accomplished, there was no reason to stay, no matter how curious you were about the extent of his ability

-You were swift at your exit, swift enough that Feitan only caught your figure leaving from the corner of his eye

-Admittedly you've sparked more than enough of his interest

-something about your very being itched him in a way he couldn't describe and lingered his thoughts for moments too long

-Like it or not, your existence loomed his mind awkwardly and gave his chest a tighten

-Indescribably annoying

'Must. know. about. Her. Get rid of stupid feeling.”

-now we all know Feitan is no short of deranged and sadistic so it is no telling if he wanted to know for devious reasons or other

-Whatever the case, it led to him talking Shalnark into researching deep (and I mean very deep) into you

-Playing it off as a simple inquiry, he found you, a picture attached to your profile albeit a very blurry one

-All that he could get was your name and Age

"Y/n. Interesting. Name."

Shalnark is confused

-That's how he got here, peeping from your window as you rest

-Even with such little information, finding you was trivially easy

-Your apartment was small, compact he’d say

-Nothing compared to the places he’s layed his head: cold, dark, and filthy on a good day

-He spent the night watching you sleep, noticing every ministration, every time you got up abruptly and checked your surroundings, nearly certain something was amiss

-He didn't expect peeping on you to be so trepidatious

-That didn't stop him from stopping by every time he wasn't busy to check up and watch you

-Days became weeks and months flew by as he kept this cycle going

-It eventually got to the point that he'd follow you to and from your house

-He was searching and, surprisingly, unsure of what for

-He's never felt any particular connection to people outside of the spiders so it was usually easy to write it off as mindless curiosity

-He just wants to know why you interest him so much, and nothing more

-That's how he ended up in your house when you left for your 8 am morning run, which took you approx. 30 minutes to finish as of this week

-He was just checking your clothes because he wished to know where you frequented, perhaps he could lie in waiting as you shopped, snatching your jugular and relenting this pounding in his chest that paces just a few beats quicker

-He only checks the food you eat to see what your diet consists of, perhaps to poison you as your gaze falters from your plate, even if just for a second, permanently killing the heat that rises against his skin at the thought of you

-He doesn't care about you; he just wants to know your weaknesses to exploit, that’s all

-If that were true, then why was he in your room when you weren't? Taking in your scent as if an attached dog 

-Surely he could've killed you thousands of times over in the dead of your sleep; a slit to your throat would've ended this and yet he feels pulled to let you live 

“Just. one. More day.”

 -If it didn't matter, if you didn't matter, why did he effectively remove any potential romantic partner from your life?

-It's just to make you easier to kill; it's just to make you easier to kill, it's just to make you easier to take. No! Kill...not take...

-What was once curiosity became more of a crippling obsession.

-He had to know everything—what you were doing, who you spoke to, and what you ate in the morning

-You captivated him and even if he couldn't understand it, you had him wrapped around your finger without so much as a word 

-Ever since your mission 4 months ago, a certain feeling has lingered your consciousness and kept you on edge with no clue as to the source

-Things went missing, your associates became distant—well, more distant than you kept them—and your kills have become suspiciously easier.

-To the average person, such a prospect would strike fear and cause for trepidation

-Did you think I wasn't aware that he'd been watching me?

-All credit goes to him, spotting him was the hardest part

-He only let his presence be known through peeks of his bloodlust spilling before he vanished in the same motion, which gave away how seasoned he was

It was hard to tell if he wanted me to find him with how obvious his actions became; no, the word would be bold. His actions have gone from stealing articles from the back of my closet to lacing food when he was sure I hadn't seen him 

-Playing dumb was the easy part; actually avoiding his kidnapping attempt(s) was certainly a challenge 

-Before long, you could see the desperation in his nen

“You're getting sloppy, Stalker.”

-I suppose you've worked hard, stalker, I’ll let you win just this once

[orangeflowerr]

[COMFORT]

synopsis: roronoa zoro x reader, fluff, reader has a nightmare and goes the Zoro for comfort. credits to @/abryan0028 on Pinterest for the gif!

“Are you still awake?”

you whispered to Zoro who had fallen asleep under the mast yet again. after being awoken from a nightmare for the third night in a row you decided to seek comfort from someone else. you decide to say it a little louder hoping the three swordsman would awaken. it was no use as the man slept like a log. which left you no option but to place your hand upon his shoulder and gently shake.

“Zoro,”

a loud groan escaped the man, after many attempts. a sharp tone was used for his words eyes still closed as he directed the words towards you,

“What?! What do you want?!”

his eyes squinted open, once seeing who he was talking to his face softened. he opened his arms, a silent gesture. you gratefully accepted his offer. head resting against his chest, the rhythm of his breathing almost lulling you back to sleep making you forget about the terrors that had woken you.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

his usual stoicism faded away as his fingers combed your hair.

“you don’t have to be sorry, you're worth being disturbed by.”

a feathery kiss was placed upon the crown of your head as you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Authors note: I didn’t really know how to end this one. Zoro is probably quite oc w this one as I haven’t actually gotten that far into op. proofread but there still might be some errors, feedback is appreciated! <3

[minchanfilm]

these have been in my camera roll for like a month so i have zero idea who to credit for these but i felt the need to share

[sleepyangelkami]

TRUTH HOLDER j.herondale

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.3K

JACE HERONDALE X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - being a seelie had its cons such as the inability to lie. jace has decided to mess with you, using such a fact to his own advantage.

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, fingering, slight manipulation, dirty talk, dom!jace, sub!reader, praise kink, hickies, overprotectiveness, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

"what are you doing?"

your meek voice could be heard from where you sat on the bed, jace's bed from inside the institute, clad only in one of the boy's oversized shirts, nothing beneath.

jace walked back towards the bed with evident cockiness in his expression, you were sure that he couldn't shake it even if he wanted to. "just putting the silencing rune on the door." placing his mouth against your neck and his hands against your waist, unable to think of anything other than you.

your voice was above a whisper, hands roaming towards his neck. "promise?" because though he was a shadowhunter, he could still lie. a disadvantage you were seemingly always caught up in.

he parted his mouth from your neck, cocking his head to the side with a playful smile on his lips. "don't you trust me?" as if the question had been one that didn't need an answer, he'd press anyway.

your mind danced to the flashback when jace had told you he'd put the silencing rune on the door and yet as you walked out of the room the next day, you earned many stares and glances. jace had smirked at that, once confronted stating that you were his and everyone in the institute should know so. "not really." you answered honestly, voice low as a mouse.

a low chuckle fell from the blonde's lips, eyes tracing your face. "i love that you can't lie."

you, not so much.

there were many things you could have went your entire life without telling jace but when presented with the right questions, you had no choice but to answer with the truth, unable to will a lie to stain your tongue.

your own eyes traced his face. you could feel the gentleness of his fingers against your thighs, they'd moved from your waist to the nakedness of your skin, inching just below the shirt that he'd drawn up more than he'd care to admit. from earlier activities, he knew that nothing lay beneath the shirt, it only egged him on more.

his eyes bored into yours, a grin against his lips. "you really love me, don't you?" it was more of a statement, not a question. he could see it in the way your eyes couldn't leave his, the way they traced his skin so gently. you two weren't exactly 'exclusive' just yet but he was yours and you were his, it was all that mattered to the both of you.

his fingers gently moved upwards causing air to trap in your throat. "you already know the answer to that." stating the truth but unable to admit what so desperately scratched at your tongue.

around him, you couldn't be held accountable for the tales you would tell.

"no lies there." he answered, lips attaching and detaching from your neck again. "but i want to hear you say it."

his hot breath against the nape of your neck along with the tone of voice he spoke in, one of certain demand, as if he were giving you straight obligations. it was enough to have your face hot and your hands clawing at his arms.

you didn't have to be inexperienced to get so flustered around jace, it simply happened. your voice was strained, holing in a mewl at the edge of your tongue. "i can't." voice broken and shattered.

it was hard to keep a steady breath when his fingers travelled further up your skin, lips sucking on the skin of your neck, creating what he'd soon assure you was simply a 'love bite' and assure you that it was nothing to be embarrassed about, convincing you to wear it about in the institute and have people look at you funny.

"yes, you can, angel." his voice reassuring and soft, his fingers gently squeezed at your thigh. however, you answered with only a shattered gasp leading his fingers to trail further and beneath the cotton shirt over your frame. "come on, baby, say it." voice a breathless whisper against your exposed skin. "lemme hear you say it, come on."

being a seelie, you were bound by the truth, unable to lie.

however, jace herondale was the reason your mouth would spew so many words.

he couldn't force the words out of you, that wasn't how being a seelie worked, he could make you talk. but he had such a good way at making you do it, manipulating your lips into moving.

perhaps it was the gentle hand that moved upwards to your pussy, collecting the wetness of your core and causing you to whine, the feeling of his thumb sinking down on your clit and gently circling it. "say it." he teased, smirking close to your cheek.

"i love you."

and jace wore a look of satisfaction, knowing you couldn't lie, knowing it had been the truth.

"good girl." left his lips, sinking back onto your neck and allowing the first finger to enter your core. you shook, your face pushing into his shoulder and muffling your noises. "wanna hear you." is all he mumbled back. "silencing rune is on the door, baby, no one will hear you but me."

and didn't that sound like an offer you simply couldn't give up.

once again, jace herondale managed to put you in a position where you couldn't so much as fight it. a whine left your lips, feeling him add a finger into your core and pump them in and out without grace, rapidly.

you had this thing about you, beautiful soft and slow. jace would like to add that he was quite the opposite. and he relished in it. he relished in using his fingers to ram inside your hole, the palm of his hand hitting against your clit and causing enough stimulation to have your back arching from the bed, hands pawing at him like a kitten, trying to hold onto whatever sense was left in your head, using him to ground you.

however, the more you grasped at his big arms, caging you, the deeper you fell.

it was almost impossible to will your mind back to reality and jace didn't bother to help. on the contrary, he pushed you even further.

"good girl, good girl." smiling gently as he repeated the words to himself. his free hand came down on your face, thumb swiping across your bottom lip and watching as your face scrunched up in emotions you couldn't quite string together. "such a good girl f'me, huh?" words as much of a tease as they were a praise. "my pretty girl, yeah? you my pretty girl?"

and you were so far gone that you couldn't register the words that moved from his mouth to your ears, nodding and babbling incoherent words, whines and whimpers stretching from your mouth.

finally, you felt the familiar knot inside your stomach and the boy did nothing to stop his movements, willing you over the edge until finally he felt your juices on his fingers. he brought his hand up to lick them off, watching as your eyes shut and your pawing hands pulled him closer.

this time, he moved with your hands, coming closer to your body and letting you grasp onto him, the only reality left.

and the words seemed metallic on your tongue, unable to string anything else together. "i love you." you whispered, hopelessly. "i love you." like a prayer on one's dying tongue.

there was something eerily comforting to jace, knowing you couldn't lie to him, bound only by the truth.

i love you too repeated in his own head, willing it to move to his tongue. jace wasn't like you, he had the option to lie, though he'd never do such a thing.

yet he found the words harder to lift onto his tongue, unknowing if you'd ever believe him in the assuredness that he believed you. perhaps it was everything he was afraid of.

which is why he said nothing.

main masterlist/jace's masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 17

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You do your best to make yourself look normal. You think it might help you feel normal. If you ever can again. You haven't since your dad got sick. Now, you're certain that the change can't be undone.

You look at yourself in the mirror. The simple blue dress is one of your favourites. You've tidied your hair enough, washed your face, brushed your teeth, done everything you typically do. You slip into a pair of flats and go to the door.

Walter isn't bad. He's nice. He's only ever been nice. But how this all unfolded, doesn't feel nice.

You open the door and go downstairs. He's waiting by the window, looking out at the farm. A farm he says belongs to you and your family but is signed with his initials.

"Ready?" He asks without looking back.

Your stomach is all wobbly. Walt. The grizzly man who silently tossed around bales and climbed up onto the tractor with that bristled expression. How long had he wanted this? When did it all shift?

"Sure," you answer and grab your purse.

"Glad the storm cleared up," he turns and crosses to the doorframe. He offers his hand. You take it. "Nice day to find a ring."

"Yeah, uh, well, you know... you don't have to buy me a ring."

"I do," he insists as he opens the door and guides you through first, following close. "If we're gonna be married, I'll need to give you everything a husband's supposed to."

You hum and let him bring you down the steps. His hand tightens around yours. You stare off at the horizon.

"That's a nice dress," he says. "You look good."

"Thank you," you make yourself smile. This isn't about you; it's about your family. What's left of it.

"That'll be another thing. The dress. We can have the wedding here. Flowers, food..."

"One thing at a time," you say calmly.

"Mm, good sense," he praises as he opens the truck door for you.

He keeps his hands on yours until you're firmly in the seat. You keep your lips curved. You're practicing for a lifetime of this.

He shuts the door and goes around the hood. He's not that bad, you tell yourself again. What were your options? What did you ever expect? You never went off to school, never troubled with leaving the farm. This is what was promised. Marriage. Your family.

Your blink away the heat in your eyes. You make yourself sit straight. He climbs in the drivers side, the truck shifting. He's such a big man. You watch him clutch the shifter and crank into gear. Thick fingers, thicker arms, big chest...

You think of the night before. That warmth that radiated from him. The way he clung to you. Will there come a day when he doesn't want you? Is this all just novelty to him?

You can't tell. You don't have enough experience to. None, really. Boys, men, you flirted, you kissed a few, but you were always more interested in other things.

You let the farmland blur in your vision and the motion of the truck calms you. You know you can't back out, you can't choose what you really want, especially when you don't even know what that is.

You arrive, happy to break from your spiraling thoughts. The world seems so small, time so short, everything is stunted by the certainty in his movement. He comes around to help you down. You thank him again.

His hand goes to your lower back, fingers curling around your side, a declaration of who you belong to. You feel the gaze of an older pair of women as they pass. The jeweler is the only in the city, sharing their space with Karen, the seamstress. Junior, the man behind the counter of gems and bands, greets Walter by name, then you.

"How's your pa?" He asks.

"He's... still recovering," you answer as you hug yourself.

"His old watch actin' up again?"

"No..." you trail off and stare at the wall.

Walter clears his throat. He moves you closer to the counter. Your body sears as you're certain both the jeweler and the seamstress notice.

"We're here to find a ring."

"A ring?" Junior scoffs. "Walter, you're serious?"

"My, my," Karen whispers.

"Afraid I jumped before I looked," Walt chuckles. "But she'll need one."

"A band too. One for each of ya," Junior goes into selling mode.

"Sure," Walt agrees and finally unsnakes his arm from around you. "What're you thinking, sweetheart? Diamond?"

"That's classic. Got all sorts of cuts and I can always work on them," Junior explains as he reaches under and brings out a board of rings. "We also got some amethyst, sapphire, all sorts of gems. You know, people are heading away from diamonds." He explains.

"Mhmm," Walt nods as he gives a thoughtful look to the collection. "Well..." He nudges you softly.

"I like them all, I can hardly choose," you say.

"What shape you like?" Junior asks, "teardrop?" He points to one, "princess?" He goes through several and you shrug again. You don't know. It all looks so expensive.

"Do you have anything... smaller?" You ask.

"Small?" Junior frowns.

"Well, yeah, I mean..." you glance at Walt, "living on the farm..."

"Ah, right, well, I got this antique the other day. Got a fresh band on it but it wasn't really meant to be an engagement ring," he puts the board back and shuffles around behind him.

He turns back to you with a slender band and a small sparkling stone. The diamond is set into the crook of the subtle crisscross. It's pretty but not too much. 

"Come on, try it," Junior waves you closer.

You put your hand out and let him slip it on your finger. You look at it. It's light as a feather but feels as heavy as a boulder. You gulp and nearly sway. Walt leans in to see it.

"I like it," he growls. "Suits you nice."

"Yeah, it's... it's... beautiful," you eke out.

It's the perfect seal for your fate.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That One Enemy…

Twisted Wonderland: Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia 

JJK: Suguru Geto, Toji Fushigiro, Sukuna

Demon Slayer: Douma, Muzan Kibitsuji, Akaza

Obey Me: Diavolo, Lucifer

Hunter X Hunter: Hisoka Morrow, Chrollo Lucilfer, Meruem

There’s always the ‘Big Bad’ in every anime, manga, and game. The one person you’re certain would kill you at the drop of a hat if you weren't reading a fanfic about them doing the exact opposite. It’s natural for any good story to have a villain or chaotic neutral that everyone’s in terror of. Too bad that’s exactly whose attention you caught when you were isekai’d into this world. 

It’s a walking dream for you to recognize the world around you for the characters you’ve always admired to be living and breathing. Whether it’s in passing or you’re able to join them on their adventures with your knowledge of what’s to come. For a while, it’s the best thrill ride you could have ever gotten. But of course that comes to a screeching halt when you run into them…

The one character whose crimes or behavior is unforgivable and incredibly dangerous now that they are in the flesh. Practically peeing yourself when you meet them, it’s a startling realization. To know that on a whim they could obliterate your existence with a flick of their wrist. You eventually regain your composure with the reminder that you know them. Able to rely on the hours you spent watching/reading this character’s crimes you should be the expert on how to avoid getting the attention of death incarnate….

Except it all goes flying out the window when they express particular interest. Covert enemies slyly ask who you are to be hanging around…such interesting characters and more obvious ones have no issue pointing to you with outspoken curiosity. Honestly, that’d be fine if they didn’t follow up on this curiosity of theirs. 

Catching you when you’re alone with a smile you used to shudder at when they were behind the screen. Trapping you against the wall leaning in uncomfortably close you can’t decide whether to pretend you aren’t shaking in your boots. Whatever you choose they absolutely love it ordaining you as their favorite. It’s likely your ‘Big Bad’ doesn’t stick around long, they’re terribly busy you know. But not for a moment are they ever too busy to stop thinking about you. 

The mysterious little no-one hanging around their greatest enemy/roadblock/playthings and they just can’t get enough of you. Your eyes, your voice, the way your pupils tremble and you wring your hands when you try to speak with them. Something about you, in particular. It’s intoxicating. 

If it’s not the idea of you trapped underneath them, it’s the idea of utterly owning every part of you. Your mind. Your body. Your very soul. 

That’s exactly what they plan to get.

Rules | Kofi | Masterlist

[4rticbolt]

A Swordsman’s Love |Master-list|

GN!Reader, Fluff, angst if you squint, comfy comfort

First one-shot, too long for a Drabble! Basically a run down on Zoro’s love for you, yap sesh, and vulnerable moments with the lovable swordsman.

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

Zoro’s love language is quality time, maybe with a little mix of acts of service here and there, but regardless you couldn’t change my mind.

Despite how ‘cold’ and ‘rough’ he may be, he’s just a little more emotionally constipated than others. Zoro tends to be forward and blunt with his love, even if at first it doesn’t come across that way.

He is nowhere near as romantically inclined as the cook, and compared to Sanji, Zoro’s actions speak louder than words.

He doesn’t care for all that gushy, sweet, blabbering—it’s not really his style, nor his strong suit. However, he can still have his moments with you. Being unironically sweet, flirty or even splitting to a grumbling blushing mess the next, it’s just the way he is.

The time he spends with you is a whole ‘nother story. It’s incredibly important to him and the basic building blocks of your relationship. It’s what you both really tend to feed off of, even if a certain stubborn swordsman won’t admit it.

An often occurrence between you, is him dragging you for a nap, tossing you over his shoulder without a care. Hauling you to his bed.

•~•~•~•

“Come, I’m tired.”

“So—I was relaxing?”

“What? And you can’t do that with me?” He prompts, carrying you through the hall towards the men’s quarters. His arm was securely wrapped around your thighs as his left hand casually wandered to your end, gently gripping the hem of your shirt.

Zoro always made sure to keep a stable hold, as you often leaned up on his shoulder like now.

“Well yeah I can, but it’s different when I’m in the sun,” you grumble, softly glaring towards him. Trying and ever so failing to ignore his hand placement.

“Different? I’m plenty warm, I don’t see what your issue is.” he replies, effectively shutting you up. Your protests were a lost cause as he already made up his mind, tossing you up in the bunk with an incoherent mumble.

“What was that?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you—caging you in. Your head rested gently against his shoulder letting your legs tangle with his.

“Nothing.” you muffled.

“Thought so.”

•~•~•~•

Zoro isn’t the chatty type, so one of his favorite things to do is listen to you. Whether you’re sitting in his lap or resting by his side, you name it—talking about whatever your heart desires; he’s listening to you.

Your voice and presence soothes him in ways he can’t describe, like a coolant. Often, it eases his troubles, distracting him so he doesn’t have to do it himself—focusing all his thoughts to you.

Zoro tends to pick up on the things others don’t. Whatever you don’t like, he’s noted. Whatever you may fear—he’s quick to keep you away from it. Shield you, protect you, and if you’re sick or sad he knows what to do to make you feel better.

It’s like a second nature to him.

You’d think he wouldn’t have a clue what to get you for a gift or present—but he just somehow does.

Zoro knows how to pick up on silent cues, whether it’s emotional or physical he has a feeling. He can’t describe it, or exactly figure out why, he just knew.

Likewise, you’d gotten a nasty fever—bed ridden for days—and he’d stuck by your side (as most of the crew would). But, he figured you hated being alone. He had a hunch you hated silence, missing the company of your boisterous crew he hoped his presence was enough.

And it always was.

Yeah, he might have slapped a cold rag over your face, telling you to get better so he could train—but he meant well. He just had a gruff way of showing it.

He gave discrete affection, like brushing his hands through your hair to help you sleep, or holding you close so you felt like he wouldn’t leave—he wasn’t too awkward about it. It was causal for him, which led to him sticking by you—deftly tucking you into bed.

To put the cherry on top, Sanji had brought you in one of your favorite foods. Yet you hadn’t remembered mentioning it or telling anyone—but you ultimately suspected Zoro was the culprit.

Either that or you had run your mouth and someone else caught on, which…was probably also Zoro.

But regardless—he’d begrudgingly asked the cook to make it for you.

You didn’t ask him about it, but you did quietly thank him as he dozed off by your side. He’d been awkwardly leaned against you, making your legs go numb under the weight of his muscly chest.

He was an idiot, but he was your lovable idiot. So you’d take what you could get.

There was always so little but so very much of Zoro, and you cherished every second of it.

Zoro always looked out for you, sometimes in ways you couldn’t tell.

The way his eyes followed you as you climbed down from the crows-nest, exhausted or just in general—he made sure you made it down safe. Though if there was ever a moment you’d fall—he’d always catch you.

That includes you being clumsy, or stupid—tripping on a chair or stumbling down the stairs—he had an instinct. Which was also apart of his protective charm.

Zoro’s charm is quiet, but it’s safe. You always felt comfortable no matter the RBF he wore. Which left you questioning if he was frustrated with you or something else entirely.

But he was 100% your safespace.

And your guard dog

But no one would outrightly say that. He could be as brash and avoiding as he wanted to be, but he could never run from you, nor hide his feelings.

Well anyways.

His touch tended to be rough and calloused, you were usually manhandled—not that you minded, but expect being pushed against a wall and kissed senseless.

It was a deep love. The type of love where if someone asked you why you loved eachother, you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You were just drawn, like some gravitational pull, clicking like soulmates. Somehow drawn.

In the warm dawn of a long day, locked in his hold, limbs entangled with snoring bruisingly loud in your ear, he was still yours. Trusting you enough to be vulnerable like this, holding you sleepily in his arms, he loved you.

He never often said it, but when he did, he’d always meant it.

Zoro wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and miscommunication had never really been an issue between you two.

However, without being told you’re loved and that you’re important, overthinking can tend to flourish. Especially with someone like Zoro, which left you doubting your abilities, wondering if the time and effort he gave you was really worth it at all. Overall feeling like a chore…

It’d been a rough patch in your relationship, but it eventually passed. Even if it took a little breakdown and pure avoidance—he’d quickly caught on.

Once he’d figured it out, he wouldn’t be angry or frustrated, he’d just be confused.

Like I said, Zoro’s a little emotionally constipated, so you’d just have to be simple and straightforward with him. Even if it’s hard to communicate that.

He just couldn’t magically understand what the problem was, and you’d probably have to tell him. Ending in a method of heated discussion—or a pure ramble and breakdown of words.

He would be there for you regardless.

•~•~•

For a moment, Zoro would be stunned. A blank sheet, but the words would register and his gaze would slightly soften.

He would take it slow, coming closer, offering you a hug to let you decide what you wanted. As he never wanted to control anything, your relationship was a ship off balance, floating teetering—drifting free, it was simple.

He’d pull you close, letting his hands comfortingly wash over and sink beneath your turmoil, wiping away the very tears he didn’t mean to cause.

He didn’t really know what to think, he didn’t blame you, but he did silently blame himself.

Zoro jokingly said you needed to toughen up, but it had never been meant harshly. His crude humor had been used in the wrong setting and brain would fry as you cried more, feeling stupid.

His brain would fry, but he’d be quick to comfort you. This was probably one of the only times he’d apologize—and they’d chaotically fly and ramble out.

His stubborn heart just couldn’t stand your tears, as it was definitely one of his weaknesses.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t—____ please, please don’t cry,” he’d mutter and shush, gently grabbing your face as he tried to wipe away your tears.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmured, pulling you in for another hug until you simply stopped. Guardingly, he’d pull you into his lap, attempting to ease your anxieties.

Zoro would internally curse the world and himself for being so dense, but no matter your anxieties it never affected how he saw you.

His motto, was that if you didn’t feel loved, then he’d simply have to remind you over and over again until you did.

Zoro would bring your tears eyes to look into his and he repeated the words he didn’t often say, determinedly.

“I love you, I. Love. You, you got that?”

He never idled you weak, but he wished you’d realize how important you were to him, and how much he loves you.

The literal Straw Hat to his Luffy, or the SUPER to his Franky, it simply wouldnt be the same without you. And he’d stand stubbornly by it no matter what negative thoughts you had to offer.

You were his to love, his to hold, and his cherish.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

•~•~•

Overall, a Swordsman’s Love like Zoro’s is indefinite. It honestly depends how you view him and his character, though out of all the odds he was just a kid forced to grow up too fast.

He serves as a first-mate on the crew, meaning his literal job is to protect and take care—meanwhile holding second charge. But in the real light, he’ll downplay it. He puts on a front, acting strong, letting no one see him so weak—but he can’t hide it from you.

The crew sees it sometimes, but it’s mostly with you in quieter moments.

Ever since Kuina died, he’d lost a lot. He’d lost his best friend, and he’d lost a challenge to further achieve his dream.

So he had to live for her, and achieve it himself.

That dream never wavered, but as soon as the crew came into play—they always came first. Including you.

His worry for you was strong, whether you could fight or not you’re always in sharp terms on his radar, and he can’t help it.

You’re not fragile to him, but in the moments where you’re injured, it’s like he has tunnel vision. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He can’t stand seeing you in pain, or suffering, because it was his job to protect you in the first place.

You’re his.

Maybe, just maybe, he would be on the overprotective side. But, it comes from a place of heart. He’d constantly remind you to rest, to take it easy—and even haul you to bed if he had to.

When you’re hurt he doesn’t let you out of his sight, he watches you like a hawk—but he just needs to know you okay and you’re safe.

Because he never had that confirmation with Kuina, it’d been sudden, out of the ordinary—and he wasn’t taking that chance with you.

He’d tend to your wounds without ask and he’d always be gentle, even if you didn’t want him to do it.

You’d insist you’d be fine, but he’d never let up.

Zoro was a strong minded person, and when he had his mind was set on something, it was very hard to break.

•~•~•

“____, Can you just let me—?”

“No,” you said shakily, crossing your arms over your stomach. A bleeding wound with old bandages was hidden beneath, creating a slow decline in your energy. “I said it’s fine, you don’t need to, Chopper will be back in a bit.”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna wait and let you bleed out. Just C’mere and sit your ass down,” he scoffed, walking over to you.

“I’m not gonna bleed out—“

“If I don’t re-bandage it and put some pressure on it, yeah the hell you are,” Zoro snapped, carefully grabbing your upper sides as he pushed you to sit against the lounge.

It wasn’t long till he had a wad of bandages with antiseptics at either side of you, kneeled in-front.

Despite Zoro being a dummy, you often forgot how tender and smart he could be in situations so dire. He had a way of knowing, but never explaining.

He most likely learned the medical techniques by watching the injuries Chopper had treated on him.

You couldn’t find a word of protest, as you didn’t know how to talk to him when he was so brunt and focused. You weren’t used to being cared for, but Zoro exceeded at that—leaving bittersweet feelings to rest.

You had to look away as he rested between your legs, distracting yourself from the pain as he pushed you gently back.

As careful as he could be, he peeled off your shirt wrapping off the old and tending in with the new.

It was an uncomfortable burn, followed by sharp stabs and throbs leaving you breathless. You were painfully tense and quiet, but he picked up on that.

You quietly cursed, letting out a shaky groan as the antiseptic finally hit your skin. You closed your eyes, focusing on anything else, eventually finding the intricate grooves ceiling where made shaped out figures—creating them like your dignity depended on it.

A slight whimper followed and Zoro’s hand tightened on your thigh.

You sucked in a long breath, closing your eyes as you focused your attention to his touch—rather than the pain that was causing it, “You done yet?”

Zoro dabbed the cotton swab over the freshly cleaned wound, “Mhm, just relax.”

“You’re almost done. A bit longer ____.”

“I know.” you winced.

He hated hearing you like that, much less seeing it.

He quickly wiped over the wound before leaning up to grab the bandage, moving his hand to your lower back—leaning you up.

“I just need to wrap this up. Hold on to me, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him bring your arms to his shoulders. The pain suddenly intensified and you’d whimpered into his shoulder.

“I know, I know.” he whispered, bringing his hand to the back of your head.

Before you knew it, he successfully pulled you into his lap, finishing off the bandages with a gentle tie.

His hand gingerly combed through your hair as he kissed your temple, bringing his hand to your lower back, holding it there with soft motions.

“Rest pretty, I gotcha.” He mumbled, kissing the top of your head. Zoro lifted your legs over his lap, holding you there.

He leaned back against the lounge, resting securely with you in his arms, “I gotcha.”

•~•~•