#the cat passed a while ago now and was a very good cat

[withleeknow]

Lee Minho/Know + “quit it or i’ll bite.” + “do it. i dare you.” + suggestive

Thank you if you take this request!!! Up to you who's doing the biting :)

feline tendencies. (m)

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, suggestive (probably a teeny bit more than suggestive), minors dni; practically dry humping, biting kink??, mimo's pecs (yes they deserve their own warning) word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"quit it or i'll bite," minho grumbles, wriggling away from you in an attempt to ward your paws off him. "jesus, what's gotten into you?"

"i wish you would," you mutter, crawling toward him again to lay your head on him once more. the man is reading his book, just trying to enjoy his saturday afternoon and yet there's a menace quite literally in his lap, making grabby hands at him. disrupting his peace and quiet, though that's not really anything new.

"insatiable," minho tsks, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp as he makes an effort to appease you. his attention is then promptly returned to the pages in front of him.

that's how your weekends are usually spent - lounging about, being lazy together, relaxing by each other's side.

you're just acting up today.

your twitchy fingers have a mind of their own. they dance up his stomach, over his abs until they reach their desired destination.

you place your entire hand over one of his pecs and squeeze, giggling to yourself when you feel his skin under your palm. this earns you a glare though it doesn't faze you.

minho may be scary to other people, but never when he's with you. it's just physically impossible, even if he wanted to.

"seriously, what is with you?"

you give his chest another tender squeeze. "boobs," you say simply. you think that's a pretty good explanation.

maybe you're no better than a man after all.

so it started a couple of weeks ago.

minho rarely skips going to the gym and while you are eternally grateful for it, you must admit that sometimes it drives you a little crazy. you respect his commitment, the consistency of his workout regimen (this could never be you, but that's beside the point); it's one of the traits that you admire most about him - he sees things through and adheres to the schedule that he makes for himself. minho doesn't half-ass the things he does or ditches them when he's feeling a little lazy (unlike you).

however...

it's this same dedication to his routine that's been sending you into a frenzy. lately, your boyfriend has been focused on working a particular area of his body and honestly? it's making you spiral more than you have ever spiraled.

chest. who knew it would be your downfall?

when minho came home last evening straight from the gym, you swear you almost passed out the second he walked through the door. his pecs looked especially good even under his shirt that you practically salivated, shamelessly ogling him like a hungry wolf.

minho sighs as if he's at his wits' end with you, though this time, he lets you continue feeling him up. "you wouldn't like it if i did the same thing to you, now would you?"

"actually, i think i would like that very much."

"i will bite you, no joke."

you have no doubt that he actually would. but again, that isn't something that you would been entirely opposed to either. you might be one of the only people on planet earth who can handle lee minho.

"your feline tendencies are jumping out," you comment, your hand still on his chest, alternating between playful pokes and full on kneading his pecs like dough. "do it. i dare you."

minho bares his teeth at you in the cat-like way that he sometimes does. it's cute, oh so cute.

before you know it, the book is haphazardly flung onto the carpeted floor (bookmark be damned) and your boyfriend is forcing a yelp from your lips when he practically pounces on you. your head is no longer on his lap; instead, he's got you pinned underneath him, his hips flushed against yours.

you can feel him through his sweats. delectable.

minho leans in until his lips ghost over yours. "stop testing me," he murmurs.

"stop tempting me," you shoot back.

"but i'm not though?"

"your boobs are."

"my god." he lowers his head to your neck, his soft lips brushing against your exposed skin as he chuckles. "that's not what they are."

"they might as well be. they're gonna be bigger than mine one day."

the sound coming from his mouth morphs into a laugh, airy and completely defeated by your words. "god, you're just so..."

"i'm so what?"

"weird," minho says.

you smile. "perfect for you then, aren't i?"

"mhmm."

then he's closing the gap between his mouth and your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he rolls his hips against your body, spreading your legs open so he could slot between them more comfortably, so he could fit against you perfectly.

"oh," you gasp when he ruts forward, presses himself into the warmth between your thighs, over your shorts and his sweats. you weave your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck as if he has any intention on moving elsewhere. minho continues to kiss and lick at your skin, nibbling on it gently in alternation.

"i thought..." you breathe out heavily, your body starting to move against his too, "thought you promised to bite me."

"promised? it was more of a threat, wasn't it?"

"same difference."

you can't see him, but you can just bet that minho is rolling his eyes. then, you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck like he's deciding where the best spot would be. he presses his hard pecs tightly against yours as his mouth closes in. you almost fall apart right then and there.

well, this certainly awakened something in you, didn't it?

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 palindrome969

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.01.2024]

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Just a concept, Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Gn!reader X Platonic!Batfam, also wrote a one shot about this

Synopsis: Batman becomes obsessed with a spouse and kids that he never had.

Pairing: Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Reader; Batman X Reader; Platonic Batfam X Batparent!Reader; Yandere!Batman X Platonic!Batfam; Batman X Platonic!Batfam

Tw: English is not my first language; mentions of Alfred being dead; I'm quite new on the fandom so there might be some mistakes about facts of the original comics, but this is a fanfic so whatever; this piece is more focused on Bruce and the batfam while still mentioning reader; stalker and delusional Bruce.

Word count: 1,4k

Requested? No.

General masterlist

Yandere!Batman who is very VERY, extremely, lonely, touch starved and grim. He’s also very unlucky apparently.

He never even met Dick. Sure, he heard about what happened to The Flying Graysons, investigated it even, but he's only seem him on pictures, videos or in passing, but he wasn’t there that night, he never talked to him, or maybe he did while stopping him from killing Zuko, either way, never adopted him, our boy went straight to orphanage and was adopted shortly after by a normal and loving family.

Actually this universe’s Bruce never met nor connected with ANY of his children, all he had was Alfred, and yet… Something happened and…

Safe to say it's been long, never ending harsh years.

The only thing this Bruce knows is pain, loneliness and misery. Don’t talk to him about Alfred. Maybe he can't even look at pictures. When he realized he couldn’t remember his voice anymore… He WON’T watch videos or listen to audio of him. Yes, Alfred being gone was one more trauma to the list of traumas he will carry on his tense and burdened shoulders for the rest of his helpless existence.

This Bruce is a loser, closer to madness than any version of Bruce (aside from Batman who laughs). His Gotham is nearing it’s doom. He didn't join the Justice League because of his level of emotional masochism, pride and lack of will to get back on his feet. He is so used to suffering he thinks it's possible to die if he doesn't have such bitter companion. Safe to say, he is depressed. And hyperfocused on saving a city he’s been working in for decades, too blind by his grieving to see that he is not doing the right things. There is no social projects on Wayne Enterprises or Wayne Foundation to help people, he neglected the company decades ago. He is almost becoming Michael Keaton’s Batman in The Flash.

Somehow, one day he is sent to another universe. It can be through some disaster like Crisis in Infinite Earths, or some villain who wanted different variants of heros to fight amongst themselves to death, doesn't really matter here, what’s important is that he (after years of being a hermit on his cave) interacts with people, more specifically, he interacts with himself.

Or definitely a lucky version of himself. Maybe the luckiest. He is jealous.

During the whole event they interact and imagine how he felt when he found out that this other Batman has an Alfred. And he is so successful that he is a billionaire who uses his money to help Gotham get better (or as good as we know Gotham can get). Oh, and he has a spouse. And children. Plural. So many he lost count. And pets. Two dogs, one cat, a cow (?), a turkey (a what now?) and a fREAKING DRAGON BAT (WHAT THA FUCK IS EVEN THAT????!?!?????!).

He is also more put together (looks like he showers and doesn't skip meals). And less temperamental.

Okay…

Bruce is confused. When he comes back to his universe, with a spark of hope in his heart, he does his research. He could start actually making effort on his company and thus helping Gotham, maybe even be good enough as a vigilant that he could join the Justice League and make some friends (even if the other Bruce was just as stoic, he was the only one who could see on his micro expressions while talking about them how fond he was of his colleagues, and how much he thrusts them, even with his trust issues).

He could find those damn kids and adopt them. Find the one who somehow managed to make him open up enough for a relationship.

(He could also just work on his company, philanthropism, do some therapy, make some new organic connections or whatever).

He is VERY disappointed to find out that some of those so called kids and are already adults, have lived their whole lives without him, maybe some have been arrested or even dead, they have their whole lives and families that have NOTHING to do with him. Some don't even exist (the only explanation for not a single clue in months of research). And his partner, Reader, is either living their own life that doesn't allow space for him or also dead. He lost his timing. He is old and lost his timing. He is alone. He shouldn't have hoped so much that he got blind by the improbability of the small chance. The other Batman did mention that his family started growing decades ago.

He just lost another family. This one he never got to have. He wishes he never knew about them.

He hyperfocused on them for months for nothing (hey, It was hard to find info on the ones that don't live a very civilian legal life, like Cassandra, or the ones that never even existed, like Damian, or the ones that are dead — again maybe Cassandra, or perhaps Jason. Maybe Jason joined a gang just for survival or something like that, life on the streets is harsh, and he is not very lucky. And I’m not even being specific on what could have happened to every single one of the batfam. Also Tim is probably a CEO right now). No connection and family will come from all of that. Especially because he is greedy, starved, he doesn't want bits and pieces, he wants it ALL. He wants that other Bruce's life.

Yandere!Batman is born. He drowns and gets drunk on the pit of his own madness and he can’t get out of it. Doesn't want to.

He could… He could get rid of the people on their lives, brainwash them and make them a happy family. They aren’t vigilantes, they don't have his abilities, they don't have his intellect, it won't be hard.

Of course, Batman doesn't kill, but this Batman is looking for a change.

But they aren't what lucky-billionaire-put-together Bruce had.

Don't get me wrong. He is not just petty and jealous, nor resents Bruce for his privileges and better decisions, or whatever.

Okay, maybe a little. Why? Just why ones life was perfect (hello? Didn't you hear the part where he told you his own problems? Not even about the DEAD RESURRECTED CRIME LORD SON?) while the others had to draw the short stick?

But majorly he is just desperate, foaming at the mouth for a happy ending, and projected all of that on that poor random bat.

Now, enough brooding, back to solutions.

He could clone them.

Could work. Not exactly easy but he could just hack onto Luthor archives until he found how he cloned Superman and made that Superboy, Superman, or whatever he goes by now.

Again, not the same as the original ones. The ones he craves. The ones he wants.

Alfred is screaming in his grave about how Bruce, please, needs to realize that no one will fill the expectations he puts on them, not even the “original ones”.

Another hard, but better fitted solution is to… Simply… Find a way to go to that other universe, or one similar enough, stalk and study their whole lives until he can perfectly replicate “lucky” Bruce’s persona, and just… Get rid of him and take his place. Hello Alfred, hello honey, hello kids, daddy’s home.

Looks like he finally got luck on his side, maybe the sun will rise tomorrow.

Yandere!Bruce won't just brush aside that he is rusty and definitely not a better Batman then the other one, but he's got time. He will developt patience. But can he learn enough to trick his perfect vigilant kids though? Is he seriously thinking straight? I mean, the batkids are dope though. They learned from the best. As a proud (wannabe) father he knows they will be better than him one day, perhaps already are.

How much of watching their lives, everything that he craves, can he take until he snaps? How much of watching Bruce's interactions with them can he take? He swears he won't take them for granted when he has them, he will take care of them, protect them, be a family, be happy.

Can he really keep his distance?

Looks like another supervillain just arrived in Gotham for the batfamily to battle against, he is quite persistent though.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm IV

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia gets her puppies

His name was Kitchen Sink Putellas, though everyone just called him Sinky.

His name came about by accident just like him.

Alexia would say that it was fate. You could swear she had set you up for it.

It had happened on one of your night walks.

Maya was a bit of a restless baby so you had found that going out for a little walk in the early evening was good to get her to fall asleep without too many tears.

You were pushing her pram gently as Alexia chattered your ear off about getting a puppy. With the house fully completed and all three of you moved in, Alexia was adamant about getting Maya a puppy.

She seemed to forget that you already had a family pet in the form of old Mr Stinky, the extremely senior cat that you had gotten at seventeen from your parents.

At thirteen years old now, he was very slow and slept a lot but he was your little furbaby and you just adored him.

Alexia, less so but she had always been a dog person, which was why you weren't surprised when you saw she had adopted little Nala.

Even through social media, you could see just how much she adored Nala and just how heartbroken she was when Nala unexpectedly passed away.

You could still see the pain lingering in her eyes now when she spoke about getting a puppy for Maya.

Alexia had adored Nala and hadn't thrown a single thing away, still packed up in a box she thought she had hidden in the back of the closet.

You got into a relationship with Alexia knowing she was a dog person and, while she secretly loved Mr Stinky, you knew no animal would come close to being loved like how a dog would be loved.

You had already been convinced weeks ago but you weren't letting Alexia know that. You were curious to see just how far she was willing to go.

You were focused completely on Maya's sleepy face as Alexia spoke. You hadn't even noticed she stopped talking until you turned to look at her.

She was crouched on the ground, her hand offered out to a little puppy on the side of the road.

"Hi, little guy," She cooed," It's okay. I'm here to help."

The little puppy whined, taking a step forward before retreating again when Alexia reached for him.

"It's okay," She said again," Come here. Let's get you some help."

He was a tiny thing. Absolutely tiny and he shook in Alexia's arms when she finally managed to pick him up.

You reached into Maya's baby bag to pull out a spare blanket, helping Alexia to wrap him up nice and warm.

"We need to take him home, amor," Alexia said, suddenly deadly serious," I can't see his Mama anywhere. He is alone."

You glanced around the area, brows furrowed.

Alexia took that as refusal and she looked ready to get on her knees. "Amor, please! You cannot think we should leave him here!"

"Take the puppy and Maya home, Alexia," You said, whipping out your phone," He doesn't look old enough to be weaned. I'll try and find him some food. I'll meet you back at the house."

You watched Alexia gently place the blanket wrapped puppy in Maya's pram with her before sprinting down the street with the speed only a professional athlete could possess.

It was late out but you paid extra for puppy milk and wet food to be delivered in a few hours. It was a flimsy excuse to make but you just couldn't shake the thought that this puppy wasn't completely alone.

It wasn't a rural area that you lived in but there was a park that backed into a little wooded area and surely you would have noticed if the puppy had been dumped in a box.

You flicked on your phone light to wander through the park. You checked everywhere you could before you came across a little bush.

The soft barks were enough to confirm your suspicions and your heart broke at the sight.

She was panting heavily, lying on her side as a throng of puppies drank from her. A heavy stick of wood was planted firmly in the ground and a piece of rope was fixed like a noose around her neck.

She wasn't aggressive as you released her. If anything, she sagged in relief and allowed you to gently stroke her fure.

She was some kind of collie though in the low light, you couldn't quite tell what kind.

You'd had a rough collie as a child. Good old Mr Porkchop who had been put down when you were eleven.

He had always been well looked after though, the pride of your father's life. This collie was nothing like Mr Porkchop though and you dialled Alba instantly.

"Alba? Can you come to the park near our house? I'm going to need your help."

Alexia was desperately working at the kitchen sink when you came in. Her sleeves were pushed up to her shoulders as she desperately scrubbed at the little puppy, trying to get him all warm.

A ring of soap was around his neck.

Clearly, she had listened to your lecture a few weeks ago about how it prevented fleas from climbing onto the heads of animals.

"Amor!" She called out behind her after hearing the front door open," I'm just getting him washed! I put him up on the counter while I changed Maya into her pjs but he fell in! I think he's chosen his name!"

"Alexia?"

"I know it will be a lot of work," She continued," But I promise I will take great care of him. We can set him up next to one of the portable heaters tonight and I've got the day off tomorrow so I'll take him to the vet and-"

"Alexia."

"I know you said Maya is still young and I know you think keeping a puppy this little is dangerous but-"

"Alexia Putellas!"

She turned. "What is-?"

"I found his Mama and siblings," You said plainly, leading the mama in gently as Alba trailed behind you with the other puppies," I've ordered food already and we'll have to take them in to the vet tomorrow."

"Amor..."

"Now." You gently guided the mama to a pile of pillows as Alba reunited her puppies with her. "What's this about his name?"

The puppies and mama were all healthy or, at least on their way to being healthy. The mama had no collar and no microchip. The vet theorised she was part of some puppy mill because she was barely out of puppyhood herself.

You knew by Alexia's face that you would be keeping them all. The Mama, Sinky and his extra three sisters.

You were nervous about it all but Alexia really took the reigns, a far cry from the thirteen-year-old version of her that once cried when you made her leave a cute dog being walked by its owner at the park.

Maya adored the puppies as well and seemed to know to be gentle. Even Mr Stinky seemed to enjoy their presence, taking shifts when the mama was sleeping to make sure that none of the puppies got into mischief.

Mainly, you were impressed about how long it took Alexia to spill about having puppies in the house.

Four weeks since you found them and you finally allowed Alexia to take them into training.

"I'll be out with the others soon," Alexia promised as she wrapped Sinky up in a blanket.

"Ale," You said," He doesn't need the blanket anymore. He's a big boy."

"He's a baby!" Alexia insisted, wrapping him up like a baby in a swaddle.

You rolled your eyes. "Go and bring out your teammates, Ale."

She practically skipped into the locker room with her little bundle of blankets.

Mapi was the first one she noticed and paled dramatically. "No!" She declared," No, you can't be serious, Alexia! You've already got one baby! You can't have gotten another one so soon!"

"Don't be silly, Mapi!" Alexia laughed," We didn't get another baby. Now yet anyway."

"Then what is that?!"

"Sinky!"

Sinky barked happily as he was uncovered by the blankets.

Ingrid rubbed Mapi's back as she hid in her girlfriend's neck.

"Sinky?" Keira echoed," Like Sinclair from Canada?"

"Don't be silly," Alexia said," Because it's short for Kitchen Sink, which is his name."

Mapi might have burst into tears.

"But there's more!" Alexia continued," Come on, come on! I'll show you!"

She sprinted out of the room and her teammates scrambled to keep up with her.

She'd traded in her old Cupra a few weeks ago for a much more family friendly minivan and she pulled open the door.

The first and most obvious thing everyone saw was Maya, happily in her seat waving one of her stuffed toys to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star which was playing in the car.

The next was the beautiful brown and white Border Collie, Lady. You had laughed a little bit about the name Alexia had bestowed upon her, making a joke about her enjoying naming dogs after Disney characters.

Sweet Lady sat in the seat next to Maya, laying her soft head on your baby's legs.

Her three remaining puppies wrestled in the stair well and all came falling out as soon as the door was open.

"Oh no," You heart Mapi say.

Alexia smiled triumphantly. "Oh yes!"

[kaiijo]

FRIENDS TO LOVERS — [KNB]

characters: aomine daiki, midorima shintarou, hanamiya makoto content: gn! reader, reader has implied tieable hair in midorima’s, toxicity (it’s hanamiya, no one is surprised) notes: scenarios inspired by prompt list here

aomine daiki ✶

aomine yawns again as he reclines against your pillows, sitting up only to peer at you. you’re working on homework that’s due in a couple of days, headphones covering your ears. you promised that you’ll order in food and play super smash bros with him when you finished, but it’s nearing eight and you’re still hunched over a problem set.

aomine groans loudly, “are you even close to being done?”

you move one headphone cup off. “i would be closer if you didn’t interrupt me every ten minutes.”

“i didn’t ask to hang out just to sit around.”

you roll your eyes. “you can go if you want, daiki.”

he sits up fully now, moving to the edge of your bed. “why’re you even doing this? s’not due ‘til friday.”

“some of us want to be good students.” you slide your headphones back on and turn back to scribbling out complicated equations on paper.

a couple of minutes pass again and instead of asking you anything, aomine stands up and shuffles behind you, reaching around and snatching the paper from underneath you. “hey!” you protest, shooting up from your seat and tearing off your headphones. “give it back, daiki.”

“no, you said you’d be done, like, two hours ago.”

“i swear i’m almost done!” you make a lunge for it and aomine just holds it above his head, his long arm adding to his already-massive height.

“no.” he smirks at the way your eyes furrow and your cheeks puff out. your head tilts to the left, and he knows that you’re thinking. he’s sure you’re going to try and jump of it again, so as a show, he stretches up further, the hem of his shirt lifting slightly. he swears he catches your eyes flickering down and something in his body sings a song of triumph and satisfaction at the motion. he can’t say why.

what you do next though is nothing that he expects. you stand on your toes, rest your hands delicately on his shoulders, and gaze up at him through your lashes. he startles; there’s something so… heated about your expression, about those half-lidded eyes.

“daiki,” you say softly. it’s almost hypnotic, the way you say his name, and he’s watching you with one raised eyebrow. the tips of his ears feel like they’re on fire.

he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing as his arm lowers, heading for the dip of your waist. he only snaps out of it at your victorious cry. “ha!” you take advantage of his still half-dazed state and push him firmly out of your bedroom door, closing it. the lock clicks into place and he hears you call on the other side, “one more problem, daiki, i promise. be a dear and set up smash in the living room?”

he walks down your hall automatically, the fire-like feeling spreading to his neck.

midorima shintarou ✶

takao holds up a porcelain statue of a cat. “what about this?’

“takao, what about that screams ‘midorima shintarou?’”

takao shrugs. “i don’t know, maybe it’ll be december 25th’s lucky item. does oha asa put out horoscopes ahead of time?”

“no, that’s why he listens every morning when it airs,” you reply, setting down a teapot from a bigger set. you thank the tired-looking cashier, who just waves drowsily as you two exit the shop.

the two of you have been shopping all day for midorima’s christmas present, wandering all over japan and into various tchotchke stores to look. he’s a notoriously hard person to please, especially with gifts, and neither of you want a repeat of the ‘grey’s anatomy incident’ where four people got midorima the same book last holiday season when he announced his intention to go to medical school. nor do any of you want to get that look from him that struggles to look somewhat grateful while being very, very obviously displeased.

“we’ve been walking all day!” takao whines, clutching his stomach as it lets out an ungodly rumble. you check your watch; you two have been out for at least four hours. you point at a small diner boasting american food. “would you be okay with that?”

“i’d eat you right now if you’d let me.”

you snort, “hard pass. come on.”

the hostess sits you two at a booth and you shrug off your heavy winter coats. you pick up a menu and glance over it, but when you go to ask takao what he’ll be getting and if he wants to split a large order of assorted fries with you, you see he’s not looking at the menu.

you definitely do not like the way takao is eying you right now. “what?” you ask defensively, hands flying to the top of your head to try and pet down at hair you presume has been ruined by your excursion. “do i look bad or something?”

“is that shin-chan’s sweater?”

fuck. you had forgotten about pulling on one of the sweaters midorima left at your house the last time you studied together. it’s insanely soft — a mix of gray wool and cashmere — not to mention extremely cozy and warm. you tried to return it to midorima before but he just pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and huffed, “wear it until you get proper sweaters. no, sweatshirts don’t count.”

you internally groan. you don’t need takao on your ass again about whether or not you’re sure you and midorima aren’t dating or if you like him like that. honestly, the only reason you haven’t given him a certain yes or no is because… you don’t really know yourself.

you don’t have proper time to answer before the bell to the restaurant chimes and you see very recognizable green hair. of all the time and places he has to show up. (well, he did text you this morning that your zodiac sign was the least lucky and to wear a blue watch in order to improve your fortune; you should’ve found the watch.)

“oh! shin-chan!” takao waves him over, giving you a sly look. “we were just talking about—” takao’s stupid hawk-eyes zero in on midorima’s wrist as he tugs off his gloves. he looks way too please with himself as he asks, “shin-chan, is that their hair tie?”

hanamiya makoto ✶

hanamiya steps out of the locker room shower, cracking his knuckles as he makes his way to his locker to dry off and change. he rolls his shoulders, toweling off his hair as he changes back into his school uniform. yamazaki and hara are prattling away, snickering under their breaths about the injuries they inflicted: sprained ankle, a hairline fracture, a minor concussion.

hanamiya doesn’t even turn around as he growls, “can you two shut up?”

to just bug him more, hara pops his gum. loudly. “who pissed in your cereal, captain?”

furihara drones, “you were sloppier today. almost got fouled by the ref.”

hanamiya doesn’t reply, yanking the knot of his tie down furiously. “fuck off.”

hara lets out a low whistle and seto asks, “does this have to do with your little friend? they got a boyfriend, right?”

hanamiya lets out a long breath through his nose and he spins around to face his teammate. “for now,” he says, slamming his locker shut.

“you got a plan, captain?” asks yamazaki as he digs through his duffel bag.

“when do i not?”

———

you greet hanamiya’s mother with a thin smile when she opens the door. her face lights up when she sees you and she pulls you into a warm hug, telling you that hanamiya’s in his bedroom and that you could go right up.

you wonder if she can see the glossy film to your eyes or if she was polite enough not to comment on it.

hanamiya’s sitting at his desk, head propped up on his knuckle. he languidly flips through pages but you know he’s not really reading the material. he’ll get away with it too and get an a anyways, the bastard. he glances at you. “you look like shit.”

usually, you could banter with him. it’s why your friendship works; you have a thicker skin than most and you give just as good as you take, especially when it comes to hanamiya’s sneering, half-joking insults. normally, you would have replied with something like “still better than you,” but instead, your frayed nerves snap and you feels the hot tears start rolling down your cheeks.

hanamiya’s simpering expression sobers up and he sighs heavily, ushering you to sit on the bed. “why’re you crying?”

you sniffle and tell him that the guy you’ve been seeing from your literature class broke up with you. just out of the blue told you that you two wanted different things and you were going to colleges in different areas and that wouldn’t work and he was sorry and… that’s all you gleaned because his words were so rushed as he scurried off as fast as he could.

hanamiya’s brow furrows sympathetically and he draws you into a hug, saying, “i told you i didn’t like that guy. fuck him.”

you sink into his arms. “yeah,” you mutter, “fuck him.”

as you relax against him, hanamiya can’t help but smirk to himself in satisfaction. someone who runs off after a little confrontation doesn’t deserve anything from you.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

rosé | f. odair

(final part of red wine)

part one, part two

summary: in the final part of the red wine series, secrets are revealed, and miscommunication threatens to tear you and finnick apart.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, blood, minor injury, mentions of forced prostitution, swearing,

notes: i’m sorry this took so long to come out y’all. thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this mini fic <3

word count: 4.1k

Finnick believed he had made a lot of smart decisions in his life—like rigging a net made out of vines to ensnare tributes in the arena, accepting secrets as a form of payment from his patrons rather than material goods, and mastering the art of seduction to manipulate his way out of various difficult situations. However, shutting you out was not one of them.

Half an hour had passed since the incident on the staircase landing. He lingered within the mansion’s extravagant walls, where other guests mingled and dined on a range of bizarre delicacies. He couldn’t eat a thing. His stomach churned at the image of your hopeless expression as he walked off. The expression he caused.

It had to be done. That is what he had been telling himself. It had to be done, otherwise, everyone in the Capitol would learn of his feelings for you. Snow would find out and most likely punish you for interfering with the arrangement he had—the sale of his body. And Finnick was very aware of what happened to people who disrupted the president’s plans.

Partygoers would have already begun to spread rumours of the scene in the courtyard. Hopefully, it would just be chalked up to a simple argument between friends. Friends. The label borderline disgusted him. You don’t fall asleep to the thought of someone and think of them the moment you wake up if you’re just friends. Nor do you look for them in every room you walk into.

Even now, Finnick was scanning the lavishly decorated banquet hall for a glimpse of your pure white gown, despite being the one who walked away. It was an instinct at this point. But there was no one in the room wearing white but him; his matching half was still outside, blending in with the winter snow. Or maybe gone home.

One colour did catch his eye though. A vibrant, almost tacky red, worn by a woman who was strutting towards him, her chin held high with pride. Finnick noticed the material of her floor-length gown. Silk. She was wearing your old dress, only the colour was incredibly off, and each hem was lined with red fur, conforming with her implanted whiskers. That was when he realised who the woman was.

Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline.

“Where’s your dancing partner tonight?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

The bright saturation of her dress was almost blinding as she stopped in front of him. He held back a grimace and plastered on a smile even faker than her voice. “She wasn’t up for it this time,” he lied.

“Well, everyone knows she’s out of touch with our way of life,” she said. Finnick ground his jaw, struggling to maintain his façade. Words could not explain how condescending these people were. “This dress is an adaptation of one she wore quite a while ago. Such a plain thing. I only liked the colour and bodice. The only way I could wear it in public was if I spruced it up.”

He thought back to the dress you had worn. Nobody had even come close to how phenomenal you looked. Where others needed extravagance and flounce to stand out, you only needed a simple red dress. Yet here this woman was, thinking she had the audacity to call you plain.

“I noticed. It’s very… striking.”

“Thank you, darling,” she purred. There was a predatory gleam in her eyes, like that of a wild cat about to pounce and devour its meal. “I was waiting for the perfect occasion to wear it.”

His forced smile twitched. “You’re certainly turning heads.”

“Did I turn yours?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Truth be told, Finnick hadn’t even remembered her existence until she walked right up to him. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her that, so he told her that she did. For a long period of time, they bounced back and forth, complimenting and flirting with each other, never dipping below the surface into a real conversation. Not that he wanted to anyway. Not with her. The only person he longed to conversate with was now out of reach.

The woman started talking about colourless topics such as the latest fashion trends in the Capitol and her opinions on the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, all of which made Finnick wish she would just gouge his eyes out with her sharp claw-like fingernails. He couldn’t do anything but stand, smile, and agree. Doing anything else would result in Snow staying true to his very detailed threats

As the conversation continued, his attention began to drift. He surveyed the outfits of everyone in the room, amusing himself by deciding whether or not each person was making a fashion statement or tragedy. Only one person claimed the former title—the one in white.

Finnick watched as you entered the room. The giant golden chandelier cast down a bright light which caused your skin to glow with radiance; its glare enhanced the brilliance of your white dress. This brief moment ignited a fear in him that you had died in his absence because there was no way a mere human being could look so angelic.

“Finnick?” the feline asked, but her voice barely registered in his brain.

Captivated. He was utterly and completely captivated. One after the other, sudden realisations conjured in his mind. The first—there wasn’t a life worth living ahead of him if you weren’t by his side the whole way, and not as a friend or a fellow victor, but as his partner. His lover. The second—he would never let any harm come to you. He would keep you safe from Snow’s clutches, from the Capitol, from anyone who would put you in danger, even if it meant the two of you had to disappear into the vast forests of Panem.

And lastly, he was now absolutely certain that the woman in front of him could never compare to you, nor could anyone else in the ever-expanding universe. You were a basic human necessity to him. Without you, his heart might as well stop beating. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your unwavering support—every part of you kept him alive.

“Finnick?” the voice that went disregarded hissed again.

With a half-empty wine glass in hand, your anxious eyes searched the room. Finnick wanted nothing more than to sprint over, pull you into his arms, and cast away every trouble plaguing your mind. He couldn’t. Almost all eyes were on you, yet you hadn’t even seemed to notice. Only one person finally seemed to gain your attention, and that was Finnick, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes locked on yours.

The neurons firing in his brain signalled him to move and he did. But just as his legs started to walk, a forceful hand jerked his face to the side and a pair of harsh lips were crushed to his. Glass shattered on the marble flooring. Momentarily paralysed from shock, Finnick stumbled backwards, briefly catching the twisted triumphant smirk on the woman’s face before whirling around.

Your face was frozen with devastation; his heart dropped. Splatters of red wine had stained your gown, pooling in a crimson puddle of glass shards by your feet. Quiet mocking chuckles and whispers echoed around the room. Oh, if only he had his trident; they wouldn’t be laughing then.

An Avox rushed forward, attempting to clean up the mess, but you had crouched down with them.

“No, please,” Finnick heard you say to the Avox as he strode toward you. “Please don’t. I can do it.”

But delicate hands and glass shards never mix well. You gasped in pain. A jagged fragment you collected had sliced into your palm, creating another crimson pool in your hand.

Finnick’s strides quickened, eventually leading him to stop and kneel beside you. He wordlessly took your hand in his, cradling it as he inspected the damage. Blood coated his fingers, but he didn’t care. He might as well have cut your hand himself. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for him.

Pink blush overtook your face. For once, it wasn’t because he made you flustered or bashful, but because you were humiliated. He knew how much you disliked attention; now you were at the centre of it. Beside you was the Avox, tending to the mess of broken glass.

“Could you bring me a first-aid kit, please?” he asked with a polite smile.

They nodded and silently left. Finnick returned his attention to you, applying pressure to your wound. Your gaze was lowered, unwilling to meet his own. There was more to your demeanour than just embarrassment. There was sadness. Disheartenment. Neither of which were present when you walked in, only appearing after the feline woman had kissed him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes unmoving.

The Avox returned holding a medical kit; Finnick thanked them, taking the box into his hands. He climbed to his feet, hesitating before offering you a hand up. Much to his relief, you accepted his assistance. And then, without a word, you began walking towards the nearest exit with apparent indifference to the engrossed eyes following you.

Finnick didn’t bother to conceal his icy glare toward the crowd as he trailed behind you and exited the room.

*******

Pain of a thousand unrelenting bees stung the broken flesh of your palm. Even the slightest movement of your fingers sent waves of throbbing agony up your arm. But it was nothing compared to the brutal ache of your heart.

You had entered the mansion in search of Finnick, determined to mend the crack in your friendship before it crumbled completely. What you got instead was humiliation and heartbreak. What you saw was another woman kissing the man you loved, whilst wearing a horrible adaptation of your red gown no less.

The air had been sucked from your lungs. Believing he would kiss you on the dance floor in the courtyard was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream, a pathetic fool’s wish—every term under the sun that defined something not real. At least now you understood why he was acting so differently. Because he had found someone else and that someone wasn’t you.

A lump formed in your throat and you knew tears were approaching. As if your night couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Your feet carried you down a long corridor, far enough away from the banquet hall that listening ears and prying eyes were unable to reach. Finnick still followed behind you, though you weren’t sure why he bothered. How could he explain what you saw with your own eyes? Plus, the last thing you wanted was for his new romance to think something was going on between you and him. Only in your dreams.

Unsure of your destination, you decided to enter the first room you came across. It turned out to be a lavishly decorated library, walled with large wooden bookshelves which were filled endlessly with novels and historic paraphernalia. Sitting within the bookshelves was a stone fireplace.

The door closed as Finnick entered behind you, the silence so loud that the crackles from the fireplace reverberated through the room. Your hand still throbbed something awful so you looked down, taking in the gruesome sight of your dress. A stranger might have thought you had just murdered someone. If it were televised, it would have been deemed acceptable.

You sniffled, wearing a small bitter smile. “I ruined Snow’s pretty white dress.”

A few moments passed before Finnick replied. “Red always was more your colour,” he said, his tone anything but playful.

Ahead of you was a great wall of windows; in the reflection, you saw him staring back at you with an unfamiliar expression. His brows were pinched upwards, pronouncing the lines in his forehead, and the corners of his mouth drooped in a slight pensive frown. He didn’t look like the Finnick you knew. This Finnick looked pained. Anguished.

You dropped his intense gaze and ambled across the room. By the lit fireplace was a cushioned stool which you sat down on, eyes staring into the flickering flames. If you were lucky, maybe your dress would catch alight and whisk you away from your troubled life. Okay, perhaps the thought was a little morbid, but so was a broken heart. Of all people, why did you have to fall in love with Finnick Odair?

Cautious footsteps followed behind you, coming to a stop beside your feet. Without your acknowledgement, Finnick crouched down, eyeing the bloody mess of your hands with concern. His gaze lifted to yours, which was still on the fire, and he sighed.

“Let me take care of your hand,” he murmured.

Before you could refuse, you realised contracting an infection was worse than giving in to your stubbornness. So, you nodded.

Finnick opened the first-aid kit and began tending to your wound; his touch was so gentle it was like he was piecing together a broken china cup. Using an antiseptic gauze, he attempted to clean the damaged skin, whispering apologies whenever you winced in pain. After carefully applying a dressing, he began wrapping a bandage around your hand.

You stared into the orange flames, wondering how he would explain to that woman why he left her behind. You wondered when their relationship started and why Finnick continued to shamelessly flirt with you in her absence. You wondered if their relationship would be the end of your friendship.

“Are you in love?” you quietly asked.

His hands stilled at your sudden words, then he continued wrapping the bandage. “Not with her.”

He secured the binding with medical tape and climbed to his feet, placing the supplies back into the kit on a small side table.

Brows drawn together in confusion, you turned to look up at him. “But I thought—"

“Things are much more complicated than they seem,” he interrupted. There was a clear vase of white roses on the table. Finnick toyed with the petals, caressing them between his gentle fingertips. “No one understands me better than you do, and there is no one in this world I trust more. But… there are still things I’ve been keeping from you.”

The troubled expression on his face melted into one of vulnerability. This was a new appearance for him. Finnick was known nationwide for his radiant confidence and charm; he never let his guard down. You have had difficult conversations before, such as discussing each other’s hardships and innermost secrets, but none of them seemed to affect him like this.

“Everyone knows about my visits to the Capitol,” he continued. “How I spend nights with different people every time as if it’s all a game for my pleasure. But it’s not true. It’s not my game I’m playing.” He began walking over to the wall of windows, overlooking Snow’s gardens. “There’s a part of it that no one knows about.”

You rose from the stool, beginning to take slow steps towards him. “Which is?”

The fire flickering behind you deepened Finnick’s features. It intensified the shiny bronze of his hair and enhanced the defined contours of his face, making it easy to see the muscles in his jaw clench with apprehension. He stared out the window so intensely that you were sure his usual green eyes were blazing with their own inferno.

Even full of angst, he was painstakingly beautiful.

His chest inflated with a deep breath. “President Snow… sells me to the Capitol.”

Horror washed over you in monstrous waves. Sells? Only one explanation appeared in your head as to what he meant. You remained silent, praying he would prove your assumption wrong.

“After I won my Games, he saw my success as an opportunity to please his citizens. He began offering me to potential buyers—'admirers’ is what he called them—who soon became my regular customers. They would use me however they liked. Some would pounce on me the second I stepped through the door. Others were relatively tamer. Kinder. They would have me take them on dates or watch a movie with them, but one way or another, it all ended the same way at the end of the night.” He sucked in a sharp uneasy breath before continuing. “Then there were the rare few—the ones who treated me like I was nothing more than a ragdoll for their amusement. They did things that were… unspeakable.”

Nausea churned in your stomach as your mind conjured sickening images. It couldn’t be true. You refused to believe that human beings could stoop to such levels of atrocity to make one person endure so much cruelty. Then again, you lived in a world where children were sent into an arena to fight to the death on live television.

Finnick looked like he was holding himself together by a thread. Every word he confessed shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could this have happened to him?

“I’ve tried to refuse but Snow threatened to harm the people I care about—my family, my friends. After I met you, I knew you were added to that list.” He finally turned around to face you, his eyes filled with such anguish, it shook you to your core. “The Capitol owns me, Y/N. Body and soul.”

Despair riddled your entire body. As you stared at him, the image of a teenager appeared in your mind—eyes sea green and hair a fiery bronze. He was just a boy when it started. A child.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” you managed to whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Less of you? Finnick,” you said softly, stopping in front of him. Your eyes beckoned for his; you needed him to look at you, to really take in your next words. “There isn’t a single person alive I think more highly of than you. No one even comes close. Can’t you see? Just having you in my presence makes me feel whole. You make me whole.”

Tears glistened in his eyes as they flickered between your own, absorbing every reassuring word you said into his mind, his bones, his entire being.

“You have brought so much into my life,” you continued. “So much good. And I would never have made it to where I am now without you. So please, don’t ever distance yourself from me because you think I will judge you. I won’t and I never will.”

As the room stilled with silence, a lone tear rolled down Finnick’s cheek. His Adam’s apple bobbed, revealing the sob he was keeping restrained within his throat. And then a smile started to grow on his face, small at first, but then it stretched wider and wider, deepening those dimples that you adored so much.

You knew that your words had touched the deepest parts of him. That you had managed to convince him ‘less’ could never be a word used to describe him. He was more. More kind, more genuine, more caring than almost all of Panem.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in awe, looking at you as if he were witnessing the birth of the universe. “Sweetheart, you’re incredible. Do have any idea how rare that is for a person to be? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you in my life, but I swear I’ll do whatever I can to keep you. And if—” His gaze drifted, seemingly wrestling with a decision in his mind— “if that means I have to share all my secrets with you, then I will.”

“Have you got any more secrets, Finnick?”

He returned his attention back to your face. The indecision from moments ago had disappeared and was replaced with certainty, which was underscored by a sort of tenderness that settled in his features.

“Just one,” he murmured. He paused, observing the universe before him and wondering how on earth he got so lucky to have the privilege of having it staring right back at him. “I’m in love with you.”

Electricity shocked your heart like someone had placed a defibrillator over your chest and hit charge. Love? You? He was?

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you everything. Even if saying this means I’m risking everything between us, I can’t keep it from you any longer. God, sweetheart, I love you so much it fucking hurts. I always will, even if you never feel the same.”

Somehow in the span of twenty minutes, everything you thought you knew came crashing down. First, your heart was broken by the thought of Finnick kissing another, and then it was healed. And then it broke again as he voiced his arrangement with Snow. It could never fully heal again while Snow was alive, not with what he was forcing upon Finnick.

But Finnick pieced together every piece he possibly could with his confession, one heartfelt word of declaration at a time.

The weight of his confession hung in the air. His eyes held a mixture of anxiety and hope for your response. Time seemed to stretch out as you tried to find your voice. How do you declare your love as powerfully as someone who just bared their soul to you?

An emotional laugh bubbled up your throat, your eyes brimming with tears. “You idiot,” was what you said, the words spoken with utmost adoration. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Finnick’s eyes widened in amazement and a brilliant smile broke across his face. Before you had a chance to react, he had moved towards you in one swift step, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a powerful, passionate kiss.

Your hands were quick to cling onto him, desperately terrified that if you let go, he would vanish into thin air. Every ounce of yearning and hidden affection from the past year poured into this one single moment, into the movement of your lips against one another, and the feeling of your hands cradling each other’s bodies.

Emotions were running high. You could taste both your own and Finnick’s tears as they streamed down your faces, salty and palpable with affection. The sheer relief of finally being free to express your love was so unimaginable that you felt like you would be crying with happiness your whole life.

Finnick’s hand cupped the side of your jaw and he lowered his head, deepening the kiss as much as he physically could to make up for all the time he wasted. His lips were soft and adoring, savouring the sweet taste of your lips on his. His other arm tightened around your lower back, pulling you even further against him.

You felt like you were melting into his embrace and happily, you would have. It felt so right, so safe to be held by him. The world outside the library no longer existed; there was only Finnick and you. Your hands settled on either side of his jaw, staining his skin red from your blood-soaked bandage. You knew he wouldn’t care—the blood belonged to you.

And that is how you spent most of the night. In the library, in that one spot by the windows, in each other’s arms. At some point, you ended up sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, both covered in red and feeling blissfully content. Your back was leaning against Finnick’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he occasionally pressed his lips into your hair.

You toyed with the fabric of his sleeves, your head leaning against his collarbone as you watched the flames once more.

“If Snow ever finds out…” you murmured.

“He won’t,” he reassured quietly. “I won’t let him. He’s taken too much from me; he won’t take you too.”

You turned your head to peer up at him, wearing a teasing smile. “Can’t live without me, Odair?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Never without you, sweetheart.”

Once again, Finnick’s lips were on yours, conveying every ounce of immense love he felt for you through his kiss. The only time either of you broke apart was to whisper sweet declarations of your devotion and reverence before returning to each other again. This was when you felt most complete.

When you felt whole.

tags: @queenofspades6 @powellssaturn @bellamybellamyblake @heroinhchicblog222

[reallyromealone]

Can you do (whatever characters you like) x male omega reader?

I don’t care what character(s) get put x reader.

Plot: Toman was in a meeting talking about god knows what when reader begins to enter pre-heat. Chaos insues

Title: atypical courting

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Toman + others

Fic type: smut

Pairings: all x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, nsfw, smut, Omega male reader, group sex, double penetration

Notes: I just added everyone in here, it's all post story version's but crime ✨

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

He's known them most of his life, Mikey coming to his dad's bakery almost daily and witnessing (name) beat the crap out of a thief trying to rob them, immediately asking him to join Toman even if he was an Omega.

That was ten years ago, and here he was.

On top of the world.

Being a Toman executive wasn't easy, especially as (name) secondary gender but he made it work as he kept a constant supply of suppressants to keep his heat at bay, refusing to be seen in a moment of weakness by the other Toman executives.

(Name) And the others always had... Tension between them, not hostile not but more so sexual, they had for a very long time and neither parties actually handed it from the occasional light pass to a grope, a game of cat and mouse.

Mikey, hanma and Kisaki were one of the worst ones with their infatuation, obsessed with him without ever doing anything.

(Name) Was annoyed as he sat in the meeting, he called in sick for a reason and nooo! He had to be here to hear about god damn taxable buildings they needed to check up on! (Name) Was prepping for his upcoming heat, his preheat would hit any day now and he just didn't want to be here when it happened.

He couldn't afford to be vulnerable with people present.

"(Name), you good? Yer' sweatin' fucking buckets" Baji barked out as everyone turned to look at (name) who was barely present as a sweet smell filtered through the room, the smell of preheat.

"Why did you come if you were in preheat?!" Kisaki yelled and (name) hissed back at him "I TRIED AND YOU WERE LIKE NO EXCUSES! THIS IS IMPORTANT!" he did not care that he was yelling at a Toman vp, his stomach cramping and headache forming as he shakily stood "I'll bring you home" chifuyu and mitsuya said in a synchronized tone before glaring at one another "I'm fine, I'll just go home" (name) grunted as he stood, shaking slightly as he walked out of the room but he didn't get too far as the Toman executives be worked with daily flanked his side's, the Haitani brothers just behind him as hanma wrapped his arm around his waist.

"Back off!" (Name) Hissed at them "I'm a grown man, I can handle myself" he glared and removed Hanmas hand and the specticalled man smiled at the other as if he were an angry kitten "you have an alpha to care for you?" Draken said seriously and (name) looked cross "that's none of any of your business" (name) moved faster down the hall and towards the elevator, pushing them back with little effect as they towered over and got in, (name)s headache and cramp being particularly hard and a pained whine escaped his lips "you haven't had a heat in a while, what has it been a year? Since you had one?" Kisaki said to the other while pulling him closer from behind "we all know you don't have friends outside of Toman"

"And we know you want us as much as we want you" Muto finally pipped up as Mikey pulled him closer, hips touching each other and the smell of pharamones made (name) hazy "let us treat you good... Be our pack Omega" Mikey commanded softly, watching (name) sway slightly before the short blond lifted him effortlessly "just... Just don't claim me..." He whispered, thankful he was wearing his collar today as they all grinned.

(Name) Didn't know whose cock was where as he was double penetrated, when one cock thrusted in the other thrusted out as someone's cock was in his mouth, jerking off others as he was surrounded by alphas and cocks as he was touched and most of all filled to he brim.

"Alphaaa~" if (name) were even slightly coherent he would be horrified at the fact he was pulling his boss closer with his ankles around the blonds neck as he jerked off smileys cock that was right by his lips, moving to take it in his mouth with a soft hum.

"God, we should have made you ours forever ago.." pah said drained, having had the soul sucked from him via (name)s tight ass "you think he would be a house Omega? Bare foot?" Angry asked curiously as he too recovered and Draken snorted "he would rip out our eyes for even suggesting that"

It was true, despite being cock drunk and needy now, they knew he was too work driven to even think of that, he wasn't a house Omega who would sit all docile for them.

They literally saw him beat the shit out of a lower employee for losing a cargo box of drugs.

So that said enough.

"I'm just happy we don't have to dance around each other... I wanted so many times to take him in my office" Koko said and Sanzu grunted in agreement "I once saw him climb the lounge kitchen counter and his ass was at face level, took everything not to shove my face in his plush ass" Sanzu was almost hard thinking about it but (name) fucked him out of commission for at least a day.

It had only been five hours and the Omega is just getting exhausted as he let the there's do as they pleased to him, eyes barely staying open as he took what was given.

(Name) Woke up sore, real sore as he sat up to see bodies all over the room, chatting or sleeping as the Omega processed what happened "you need another knot baby?" Baji asked as he chugged a water bottle as Angry looked at (name) curiously as poor (name) processed what took place, cum leaking from his ass as he shakily got out of Draken and Kakuchos hold "what... Fuck... Ow" (name)s hips and ass hurt as he nearly fell over, caught by smiley who snickered at the other man's pain "what did you all go to town on me?!"

"Yuuup" the pink haired twin said kissing his cheek with a cackle "I need a shower..." (Name) Grumbled as he stumbled to the washroom with a hard limp, kicking out any horny alphas that tried to join him.

(Name) Soaked in the bath as he thought about what transpired... He just fucked all his co-workers.

And his bosses!

Oh god he got railed by Mikey and Draken at once.

Memories flooded back as he remembered everything they said to him, everything he did!

He practically attacked Kisaki for his dick!

He didn't hear the washroom door open as mitsuya walked in dressed in nice clothes, a to go bag in one hand and clothes in the other "you haven't eaten since last night" mitsuya chuckled as he crouched before (name) "we got you some breakfast" he said as (name) looked confused "why?"

"You're the pack Omega, gotta keep you taken care of"

"I'm no--""-- we aren't asking you to quit, we just want you and we know you wanted in our pack... To stubborn to admit it"

(Name) Flushed as he didn't deny it and looked at the food they got him, his favorites all present as the Alpha tried to feed him "you have wet hands, you might drop a chopstick"

After the bath, Mikey tried to demand (name) live with one of them preferably him but (name) shut that shit down "I am not going to be your back and call fuck toy " he grumbled and Mikey glared but the pout proved his harmlessness at that moment.

"Next time, in not letting you all rail me back to back"

"No promises"

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 

He lost his family. 

He lost his life. 

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom. 

He lost himself. 

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street. 

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Every Breath You Take (1)

Tags in reblog.

[lowkeyremi]

Compatible choso x fem!reader

remi's note: thank u guys again for 1k AHHHHHHH idk where i'd be without your support!! you guys chose choso so here's the 1k special fic!! i am obsessed with the "best friend's older brother trope" yuji is the best friend :3

content: fluff, meeting, yuji doesn't get a break, etc.

Being one of Yuji's closest friends you've seen his "roommate" as you like to call him, every once in awhile. He would always leave his room to grab something to eat or such whenever you were hanging out with your pink haired friend.

Today you finally had the courage to ask who he was. You and Yuji are sitting very close on his couch, practically cuddling, while watching Inuyasha on Netflix when you suddenly ask, "Hey Yuji, who's that black haired guy who lives with you?"

He doesn't turn his attention away from the tv but instead answers you with, "you know how I told you I have a brother?"

He notices you nodding in his peripheral vision. "Yeah, well that's my older half brother Choso."

"Oh.. I thought he was like your roommate or something." Yuji chuckles, "haha.. technically yeah. I'm crashing with him until I get a place of my own. He doesn't mind though."

This whole time you thought this was Yuji's place, but it does make sense. Yuji's been job-hopping lately. He hasn't had a stable career in seven months.

And speak of the devil, Choso came out of his room without a shirt on, he passes by the two of you on his way to the kitchen then he stops, "Sesshomaru is the best character."

The two brothers argued about this for twenty minutes. Apparently it's a hot take in their house hold. "Inuyasha is obviously better than his older brother!" Yuji yells for the 9th time.

"Sesshomaru is cooler, and has a better understanding of the world. Like me. You only like Inuyasha because you're a younger brother." What he's saying actually does make some sense.

"Yuji, I have to agree with your brother. On top of Sesshomaru being smarter he's also hotter." Yuji looks betrayed in a playful way.

"What?? Oh come on! Not you too. Might as well go hang out with my brother, you traitor." Yuji isn't serious about the offer but Choso makes the offer real.

"I mean, if you're not opposed to it we can hang out? I don't mind joining you two." He's standing closer to the couch now with a mug of tea in his hand.

His shirtless body does something to you, because your mouth hangs open trying to form a response but you close it again not knowing what to say.

"We're good thanks! Go on back to your cave, Batman!" Yuji rolls his eyes trying to get his brother to leave.

"I was asking her, dumbass. Not you." He says getting close enough to kick Yuji and the younger retaliates by trying to block it.

"Um sure, you can hang out with us." You mumble and Yuji whines in defeat.

"Seriously?! I'm your friend not him!!" To your ears it sound like the pink haired boy is jealous.

"Scoot over Yuji. I'll sit in the middle." Choso says with a smirk on his face.

"Nuh-uh! I'm sitting next to [name] you don't even know her like that!!"

That was the first time you'd hung out with Choso Kamo.

---------

That was about four months ago, as of current, you're sitting on Choso's bed waiting for him to grab the snacks you two bought a few hours ago.

When he returns you show him a tiktok that reminds you of him, "Cho, you look like this cat!" Upon seeing the cat he chuckles a little bit, "I do not."

Yuji's started working a night job so you usually hang out with Choso until he gets off of work.

"Thanks for the snacks. I love these ones." He nods politely at you and joins you on his bed. The first time the two of you hung out in his room you were very nervous and sat on his floor as to not invade his privacy. He thought it was so cute how you were acting and invited you up on his bed.

You told him it was a mistake on his behalf because now you make yourself comfortable in his bed any time you come over.

"Do you wanna finish that show we were watching?" You turn to him and catch him staring at you. He quickly turns away and fakes a cough. You've been wondering if your accusations were true.

Yuji tells you that all his brother wants to talk about now is you. Yuji suspects his brother has a crush on you, but when he confronted him the gloomy looking male denied it. Yuji doesn't know that you like Choso.

"Yeah sure, do you wanna, like, cuddle? Platonically, though." You wonder if he's making it clear for you that he doesn't like you or he's just trying to keep you from becoming uncomfortable.

"What if I wanted to cuddle romantically??" You ask with a sudden sprout of bravery.

"Um.. I'd be okay with that, heh." He says shyly, you noticed how his face slightly turned red.

"I like hanging out with you, Cho." You crawl into his lap and he wraps his arms around you. He places his head in the crook of your neck and breathes in deeply.

"I lik- no I love hanging out with you too, [name]."

[feyhunter78]

Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta! Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out. Happy Valentine's Day my loves!

The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.

It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.

When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.

Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone—except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?

One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.

Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.

Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.

The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.

You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.

“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.

“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.

You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.

Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.

You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.

Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.

The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.

You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.

“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he’s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.

“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”

“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”

Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”

You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.

Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”

“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.

He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.

Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.

The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.

You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.

Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.

“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.

“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.

Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.

“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.

“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.

She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”

Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”

“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”

Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.

“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.

“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don’t you follow me upstairs?”

“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”

He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”

You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.

“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.

She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”

The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”

You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.

You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.

It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.

You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.

“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”

He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…

Fuck it.

You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.

Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.

“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”

“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.

You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.

“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.

“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.

So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.

You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.

You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”

“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.

“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.

Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.

“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”

He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”

You glance down and heat rushes to your face.

He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.

“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Scenarios

I made these two parts because I love all the Hazbin boys, and I am a sucker for this trope. I didn't add pentious because I am not confident writing for him. Val is well, Val. Pt1 Pt2

Husk

Alastor had asked you to accompany Husk to his old casino to see how things were running. You knew it was to punish Husk for something he did or said, but at least you got to be there with him. Husk groaned for the eighth time since you two had left. You could tell he was angry about this arrangement. "You can talk to me, Husk, if you want. Normally you do all the listening, it can be my turn if it will help."

He sighed and grumbled; you nodded and kept pace with him. The old casino was in sight. It still looked like it did in the glory days when you were Husk's soul, not Alastor's. "Well, at least the bastard can keep it looking nice, fucking tormenting me with this shit,"

When you two entered the casino, you were treated by another of Alastors' demons and escorted to the one in charge. Husk was speaking about the logistics while you looked around. Hours had passed, and you were growing tired. You were never good with money and business, and the buzzing and noise of the casino slowly drowned out as you sat at a machine and took a nap.

When Husk wakes you, the Casino is in full swing. A sinner is mad you are taking up a spot. Standing quickly, you move over and stand with Husk. "What is going on?"

"Fucking Al wants the impossible done, is what? We are gonna be stuck here for the night. I couldn't make the numbers work before the casino got busy; they are getting us a room now." He seemed so anxious and mad. You gently grabbed one of his claws, offering a soft squeeze.

"You don't want to play at all?" You were concerned he usually wouldn't give up the chance.

A soft laugh escapes him as he looks at you. He looks very gentle. "Doll, what do you think I was doing to get the numbers up?" You make a silent 'o' and follow him as a new sinner escorts you to the hotel side of the casino. As you ride the elevator up, you look down on all the gambling sinners. That used to be you a long time ago; that used to be Husk.

Once you were left at your door, Husk entered, a gruff thanks coming from him. You kept walking when you slammed your face into a wall of fur. "Husk, what is wrong?" You peeked over and saw it was a miniature replica of Husk's old room, with only one bed for two. "Oh, I see now."

"Fuck this. I will just sleep on the floor," He began to get comfy by the side of the bed. You scoffed and looked at him worriedly, "Husk, no, you will not. Get up and in the bed. We can make this work." He looked flushed for a moment but groaned, knowing that you would move him—you had done it before. He slammed his body on the bed. You sighed and opened the bathroom door. "I am going to shower. You have fur, so you don't need the covers, so they will separate us. All good."

You entered the bathroom, and while you were gone, Husk had a dilemma. He knew the sheets would separate you, but that's what he didn't want; he wanted to feel you and hold you close. Sighing he laid on his back, you soon joined him and climbed in to bed. Some quick goodnight led to the lights off and sleep.

The problem you ran into was it was cold; you could hear Husk's light breathing, and as long as you moved by morning, you could save your dignity and crush on the cat. Gently, you wrapped the blankets from under Husk around him. You scooted closer, nuzzling his fur, and drifted off to sleep.

Come morning, Husk had found you, and he was happy even in this torment Alastor held him in. Slowly, Husk wrapped you in his arms and pulled you on top of him. He caressed your hair and face softly until he, too, went back to sleep. You eventually got up, but till that moment when you did, you two just lay there enjoying the warmth.

Lucifer

You were one of the first sinners to join hell; you watched Lilith and Lucifer's relationship. You had seen pentagram city become a city, you even watched as the other Sins became just that sins. Yet you remained strong, one of the trusted, the exulted. You loved Lucifer more than words could describe. How could you not? You had been there for it all. Yet Lilith was all he could care about; you were his closest friend.

When Lilith left, things were hard. You and Lucifer shared a bed often, and you held him close, comforting him. It never meant more to you than just being a good friend and helping him feel better. You spent countless nights being the best friend you could be and a makeshift mom for Charlie.

When Charlie's hotel opened seven years later, you had given up hope that Lucifer would get over Lilith. So you packed your things and moved to the Hazbin Hotel to help Charlie. You didn't know Lucifer was over Lilith year three or four; he purposefully kept being sad, so you stayed around. That's why when Charlie invited him to the hotel, he jumped at the chance to be by your side again.

There was one problem: while working on building the new hotel, only a few rooms were set up, leaving you and Lucifer to share a room once more. You had noticed his change in mood, and he was a lot more flirty, yet you didn't want to get your hopes up that Lilith was off his mind. You just played back with him, not realizing that come nightfall, you would be alone with him, with one bed—nothing you hadn't done before, right?

"Uh, if you are uncomfortable, I can sleep elsewhere. Otherwise, the castle is still active." He looked so concerned and nervous. Could he feel how you were feeling?

"Uh, no, no, it's fine. We have done this before, right Luci? It's okay." You felt your face warm up in this confined space, and the tension was too much. Like old times, you gently crawled into bed, opening your arms for him.

His eyes widened, and he smiled, crashing into you and rubbing his face in your chest. "I have missed this. Months without being able to do this is far too long."

You blushed brightly and combed his hair. "Months, Luci, what do you mean? Lilith has been gone for years."

He yawned and nuzzled closer, helping you lay down. "No, I meant what I said; I missed you," he looked up at you through his eyelashes. "It has always been you."

You gasped and smiled, tears welling in your eyes. You two wrapped up warm and snuggled in the bed. You both slept the best you had in millennia. Come morning, the whole hotel staff took pictures of how adorable the King of Hell looked while you were holding him.

Vox

You were Vox's best assistant. By best, he meant the only one he couldn't flirt with or hit on because he had one too many dreams about you. More specifically, there are one too many domestic cute dreams. You were his best assistant because he couldn't get mad at you or hate you like he did the others. Damn, did he love seeing you walk around also? He was smitten, and you were good at your job, which made him hopelessly in love.

You weren't too far off yourself. Vox had your heart the moment he helped you pick up all your stuff in the hall at work. He had yet to learn who you were, some lowly intern for Velvette, and he helped you. From that day on, you worked hard to become his personal assistant, hoping to make him see you how you saw him.

Today was a busy day for the Vees. You had gotten Velvette and Val to their designated locations, and now you needed to get Vox to his. Just as the company limo broke down. You sighed and told Vox to wait as you got out and looked at the busted engine. You sighed, calling the mechanics to come pick it up. You looked all over the part of the city you were in and sighed. It will be hard to get a hotel, but not impossible.

You searched the internet, and Vox inevitably came out to lean on the car and keep you company. He wasn't mad at all; ironically, he didn't get much time with you alone. This was nice, almost domestic if you think about it. However, your loud 'aha' ruined the moment. "I found one, Vox!" The way your eyes lit up made him warm. He wanted to make your eyes do that always.

"Find what, kid?" He kept his same gruff, sarcastic voice; he didn't want to risk you finding him out. You just shook your head and started walking; when he didn't join you, a sigh left your lips as you grabbed his hand and dragged him along.

Two blocks down, there was a hotel with a bed left. "Here we are, alright. Here is all your information; you will have access to all amenities. I hope you sleep and rest well, sir." He looked at you, confused. Were you not going with him?

"Uh, are you not coming with me?" He let his guard down a little. He knew this side of town was near the radio demon, and he was worried.

"Oh no, there is only one bed. I will just sleep in the limo!" You were so excited and proud even of your plan. Yet that was halted as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's a hard no kid." He walked you into the hotel, keeping your bottom half covered with his suit jacket. Once he had the key, he went up to the room and set you down. Looking around, it was beautiful; it matched his blue well. There was only one bed, though, like you said.

"Vox, really, it will be okay. I was from this side of town before I started working for you guys. I will be okay." You pleaded, not wanting him to know about your silly crush. He just shrugged and locked the door, going to the bathroom to freshen up. You sighed and sat on the bed, kicking your legs and looking around. Vox came back shirtless and cleaned up.

"Your turn." He noticed the blush on your cheeks and puffed out his chest. Smiling, he took his place on the bed, laying back. You went into the bathroom to clean up. Luckily, you keep a spare pair of shorts and a tank top in your bag for emergencies. Changing, you went to the room, seeing Vox spread out.

"Where exactly do I sleep?" He snorted and patted the spot next to him. Slowly, you made your way over, crawling in. Vox sighed and pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest, and your head landed on his shoulder.

"Look, I will cut to the chase, kid. I like you, no, I love you. I have been having these dreams about you, not even sexual ones. I want all this domestic shit like cuddling with you." You blushed and smiled, nodding along. Gently, you repositioned you to be comfy against him and you two fell asleep.

In the morning, hours had passed, the limo had been picked up, and you two had ignored all calls from the other two Vees. Vox will deal with it later, just like how he will deal with you losing the title of assistant so he can finally make you his partner.

[highdefhoetry]

Just for the night.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, lots of sexual tension and buildup, casual sex/hookup, premature ejaculation, oral sex (vaginal), blowjobs, penetration (brief vaginal fingering & penis in vagina), spanking, biting, light breast play/nipple sucking, cumming in mouth, missionary and doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, no use of (y/n)

summary: a wayfaring group of pirates come into your tavern while you're on the clock, and a certain swordsman catches your eye.

author's note: i JUST started watching one piece and i've only made it to the reverse mountain arc, this fic takes place sometime in between arlong park and loungetown!

It had been an interesting night at work. The town was throwing some kind of festival, quite common during this time of the year, and the bar had been nonstop busy ever since your boss had opened the doors. You lost count long ago of how many beers you’d poured, how many wooden kegs you’d refilled, how many plates of piping hot food you’d served, and how many times you’d avoided unwanted groping from eager hands. You’d earned some good money, though, which almost made it worthwhile. 

The most interesting part of the night, however, were the new faces who’d shown up earlier that evening. A ragtag group who claimed to be pirates had come into the tavern for a drink and a good time after getting wind of the local festivities, joining the celebration that had begun a couple hours ago. The self-proclaimed captain of the weirdos, a rubber man donning a straw hat and flip flops, had joined some of the patron in a meat eating contest and was currently on his way to beat the reigning champ. His navigator, a young redhead with a charming smile and big, bright eyes, was schmoozing some poor bastard who was too drunk to notice her slipping his wallet out of his pocket. Then there was the blonde Frenchman, a casanova type who was hitting on a few of your giggling coworkers. A cigarette dangles from his lips, which he ashes on the floor. 

Truly, they were the definition of a motley crew.

It’s now halfway through your shift, and orders have died down considerably. Most of the patrons are passed out at their tables while others are being carried home by their companions. The tavern is still pretty lively, but you manage to sneak away for a moment and catch a breather. You pour yourself a cup of water and take a sip as you watch the chaos unfold. 

As you continue looking around, silently observing the chaotic scene, the sight of sea green catches your eye. You notice a stern-looking man mulling in the far corner, sipping on a giant mug with a frown. He looks a bit out of place, but you remember seeing him come in with those straw hat freaks earlier. You hear the rubber man call out to him, something about a dance-off or whatever, and the green-haired man barks out a loud “No!” before crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall again with a scowl.

Very interesting, indeed. 

Who could this man be?

“Are you serious?! That’s the Roronoa Zoro?”

“I’m not lying!! Look at his waist, don’t you see those swords he’s carrying? Only Roronoa Zoro uses the three sword technique! It has to be him!”

The annoying, high pitched voices of your coworkers garners your attention. You turn to look at the three frightened waitresses, who are currently huddled behind the bar in an attempt to avoid the scowling man’s gaze. 

“Someone’s gotta bring him his sake. He ordered it like an hour ago.”

“No way. I’m not going near him! He’ll probably kill me just for looking at him!”

“Well I’m not going over there! I’m not risking my life for a few dollars.”

It was the perfect excuse to approach him. You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance as you grab the tray from their hands.

“Fine. I’ll go. You damn scaredy cats.”

Your comment earns a few glares, but you pay them no mind. You fill the giant mug with sake and waltz over to the sullen swordsman. Someone starts playing the accordion; someone else grabs a fiddle. The tavern turns into a dance floor, and its drunk patrons cry out in excitement while they fall over one another trying to get there.

You approach this so-called Roronoa Zoro, but before you can get a word out, he says,

“I’m not going to dance, if that’s what you came to ask me.”

You raise a brow in confusion. “What?”

“You came all the way over here to talk to me, didn’t you? I can tell you got somethin’ you wanna ask. Get it over with already and stop wasting my time.”

Was this guy for real? You scoff and slam the tray down on the table in front of him.

“You ordered sake, didn’t you?”

He narrows his eyes. “How’d you know that?”

“I work here?”

You give him a perplexed look, and he responds with a wide-eyed stare before mentally facepalming himself. He grabs the mug from the tray and mutters a “took you long enough” before taking a huge gulp. 

Up close, you can see more of his features. He was tall, handsome, and quite muscular. His skin was tan, kissed by the sun after many days spent traveling the seas. He donned three gold dangling earrings in his left ear and had a black cloth tied around his forearm. His muscled arms bulged in his thin white shirt, and you could see a thin sheet of sweat on his exposed chest. Then, of course, there was that odd seagreen colored hair, which, as far as you could tell, was completely natural. You’d never seen anyone who looked like him before, and it intrigued you deeply. You couldn’t stop staring, even when he caught you looking from the corner of his eye.

“I take it you’re not a fan of dancing?” you ask in a weak attempt to make conversation.

He grunts in response. With arms crossed again, he lets out a sigh and gazes at the crowd on the dance floor, his expression cold and unfriendly.

He must not have been a fan of talking, either. You’re about to leave when suddenly your eyes meet, and his gaze captures your attention. Those eyes… something about them made it impossible to look away. They were deep chesnut brown, and held both a fiery passion and a deep sadness that tugged at your heartstrings…

“What’s the matter? Is there somethin’ on my face?”

The gruff voice snaps you out of it. You shake your head vigorously.

“No! It’s just… you’re not from around here, are you?”

He scoffs, shifting in place.

“No. I’m not.”

“You must be with that weird pirate crew who came in earlier.”

“Yup. That’s my idiot captain over there,” he juts his chin in the same direction as the straw hat man, who was laughing and jumping around like a little kid. You stifle a laugh, wondering how the hell these two ended up on the same crew together. 

“And you are?”

“Roronoa Zoro. His right hand man.”

So your coworkers were right, after all. You’d never heard of him, but apparently he was well-known. You didn’t see why they were so scared of him, though. He seemed like a regular guy, apart from the three swords and grumpiness.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me your name or what?”

“Oh!” You snap yourself out of it and tell him your name. He grunts again.

“Huh. That’s fitting.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. Nevermind.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Subtle, but noticeable. That must’ve been his strange way of teasing you. You decide to let it go for now.

“Why are you sulking around back here? Don’t you wanna join in on the fun?” you ask, keeping your tone light and playful.

Zoro raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of his sake, his eyes fixated on the lively crowd.

“Too loud in there… Luffy’s laugh gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, it has gotten a bit rowdy. Tends to happen at this time of night.”

He nods in agreement. “So… don’t you need to get back to work or somethin’?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Just wouldn’t want you to get caught slacking off.”

You give him a cheeky little smile. “I’m hiding. It’s been crazy busy all night and I need a breather.”

He grunts again, leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t blame you… I hide from Luffy quite often.”

He says it with a smirk, but chuckles when he looks over at Luffy and the others. He was acting like he was irritated, yet he spoke of his captain with fondness and admiration. You could tell he cared about him deeply, despite his grievances. It gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that made you smile again.

“My shift’s almost over, anyway. And most of the other waitresses are caught up with that French guy over there,” You point at the blonde guy on the other side of the room, who’s still surrounded by your swooning coworkers. 

“Tch. Typical.”

The conversation lulls again, but it feels less awkward this time. You lean back against the wall, mirroring his body language, and go back to being a silent observer. He appears to do the same. He seems a bit more relaxed, though. He’s not as closed off as he was before you started speaking.

“Soooo… how’s the sake?”

He glances over at you, sets the mug on the table.

“Actually, it’s very good. I’m liking it a lot. Been awhile since I’ve had the good stuff.”

Your eyes dart to his drink. “I’ve never had that kind before.”

“You want some…?”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

You grab the mug before he can say another word and take a huge swig. It goes down smoother than you thought it would. The taste is light and refreshing, the perfect drink to end a long night of work.

“Damn, that’s good sake! I can’t believe I haven’t tried it until now!”

He chuckles quietly, a small smile creeping up his face. It was kinda cute. Made him look even more handsome. Although his grumpy scowl was cute in its own way, too.

“You have good taste.”

“Mind if I have another?”

He gestures his hands towards the mug. “Be my guest.”

The two of you hit it off, chatting about this and that for some time while the party raged on around you. The sound of lively chatter fell to the background as you inched closer to one another, until it felt like you were the only ones in the room. As the night went on, more and more people started to head home, except for a few of the regulars and the straw hats who lingered in the main room. By the time your coworkers started closing up, you were already pretty buzzed from the egregious amount of sake you’d had. You reach for the bottle again but realize it’s empty.

“...Ah, sorry, I drank a lot of your sake…” you frown, feeling a little guilty for drinking most of his order. “Want me to grab you another one? It’ll be on the house.”

“Eh, it’s fine. But thanks,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he turns towards you, towering over your head with one arm braced on the wall beside your head. “I’m sure.”

He’s so close. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. The smell of sea salt and sweaty man wafts in the air. His eyes bore into you, analyzing your face and body, as if he’s waiting for your next move.

“So…” you start, rubbing your lips together. “Did you all get rooms here for the night?”

“We did. Why?”

You shrug, trying to force back a smile.

“Just wondering.”

He raises an eyebrow, looks you up and down.

“If you wanna see me so bad, you don’t need to be coy about asking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure ya don’t.”

Pause. Something crashes down on the floor; you both look just in time to see Luffy falling down with a large meat bone sticking out of his mouth. You splutter out a laugh, but are silenced when a strong hand takes your chin and pulls it back towards Zoro, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re not being very honest,” he growls, and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s rich, coming from a pirate,” you bite back, hiding how flustered you are behind a bratty facade.

“...Hah, touché.”

He lets go of your chin, but keeps his eyes on you. There seems to be an impasse. The two of you dance around your subtle attempts to flirt, as if waiting to see which one will misstep first. The tension was so thick you felt like you could reach out and touch it with your hand. Those beautiful brown eyes of his gaze deeply into your own, never faltering for even a second.

“It’s getting late,” he says.

“It sure is,” you respond, breath hitching in your chest. “Do you need an escort to your room?”

His eyes grow wide for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. 

“Now you decide to be bold.”

He gets off the wall and nods his head toward the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. You move to follow him, but stand up a little too quickly and feel a rush of blood go to your head, stumbling as you take a step forward. He catches you, grabbing your waist with his strong hands before you can fall.

“Jeez, are you really that drunk?” he grumbles, placing your arm across his shoulders and steadying you with an arm wrapped around the small of your back. You’re really not that drunk, but there’s nothing wrong with a little white lie and some bad acting to get close to someone, right?

“Shut up…” you mumble. “I just drank it too fast, that’s all.”

His firm hand, his strong arms carrying you, his low baritone voice growling in your ear… he really was handsome… or maybe it was the sake getting to your head. Either way, you feel your cheeks flush as he leads you upstairs, taking cautious steps to ensure you don’t trip and fall.

For some reason, it takes longer than it should have to get there. He stumbles around, checking each door and dragging you down every single damn hallway with you leaning against his body for balance. You start to get the sense that he doesn't know where the hell he's going. That is, until you finally stop at the last door on the left.

"Are you sure this is the right room?" you ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“Tch... shut up you damn lightweight…” he mumbles while fishing out his key. Once he turns the lock, you both go inside and shut the door behind you.

It’s a small, simple room, but one that serves its purpose. The bed takes up most of the space, and fortunately it’s just large enough to fit two. You plop down on the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy, and pat the empty space beside you. 

He lets out a small sigh before sitting down.

“Just so you know, it’s… been a while,” he grumbles sheepishly in a low voice, scratching the back of his head. You smile and put your hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it as you climb further and further. Your palm brushes against his crotch, where you feel his hardened cock poking through his pants.

“That’s alright. Same for me.”

You lock your gaze with his, falling silent as you both drink in the moment. Then, in tandem, the two of you lean forward. You feel his lips press against you, and the taste of sake greets your tongue. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You respond by putting a hand on the back of his neck, gently scratching at the buzzed hair on his scalp. He moans deeply, kissing you harder. Your tongue dances with his, your teeth gently bite his bottom lip. 

Your clumsy hands fumble as you try to undo his belt buckle and zipper. Eventually he lends a hand, yanking his pants down his legs before tossing them across the room along with his heavy boots. You hear a small crash; he cringes with furrowed brows while you giggle. But your laughter dies down when you look at his newly exposed cock and see what he’s been hiding under those clothes.

He’s huge. You’re not sure how big he is, but his dick is the biggest you’ve ever seen up close. It’s not that girthy, but makes up for that in length alone. If you had to guess it was at least 8 inches. It’s slightly paler than the rest of his body, a faint shade of tan lighter than his arms and legs. And it’s almost perfectly straight, with no curves or crookedness. You watch in awe as it throbs and pulses.

Without a word, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. You start off slow, simply sucking and licking the tip, and as soon as your lips wrap around his cock he lets out a long, deep, groan of pleasure. His dick tastes salty, but clean, as if he showered recently. Hygienic, for a pirate. After teasing him for a bit, you take his member into your mouth and slowly drag your lips and tongue down his shaft…

But suddenly, he lets out a strained cry, and you feel an explosion of warmth in your mouth. His dick pulses rapidly as he lets loose his load, filling your mouth with a salty, warm taste that you swallow instinctively. It goes limp after a few seconds. He pants heavily as he pulls it from your mouth.

“...Gahhh… Sorry…” he mutters, his face turning beet red. He won’t look at you, won’t even lift his head. It was cute seeing him all embarrassed. You couldn’t be mad that he came so quickly; after all, he’d warned you ahead of time, and the fast cum gave you something of a power rush. You wanted to tease him playfully, but figured he didn’t need another bruise to his pride right now.

Instead, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. You say nothing, leaning forward to kiss him so he could taste himself on your lips. At first he’s tense and uncertain, but soon he relaxes when he realizes you’re not going to kick him while he’s down. 

The kiss gets more intense, more demanding; he grabs the back of your head and gently pulls your hair at the base of your scalp, eliciting fluttered, airy moans from your lips. He kisses across your cheek, down your jaw and neck, lips fluttering against sensitive skin. Your moans grow louder when he tears your shirt, pulling the sleeves down your shoulders to expose your breasts. A shiver runs through you as your nipples are exposed to the cool air. He takes them in his mouth, sucking and licking your areolas while his hands grope and play with your soft tits. His fingers tease the skin, stroking the undersides of your chest, playing around to see what kind of reactions he can get from you. You alternate between cries of pleasure and fits of giggles, feeling a bit overstimulated. 

He pulls away for a moment, only to bark out an order.

“Lay down.”

You comply, letting him pull your shirt and skirt down over your hips and legs so he can admire your nude body. He pauses for a second to relish the sight of your nakedness before grabbing your thighs and holding them apart. Then, he buries his handsome face in your mound, right where it belongs. You moan loudly while he kisses your folds, presses his tongue against your clit, licks the entrance to your hole. It feels so fucking good, you find yourself clawing at his scalp in attempt to grab fistfuls of his short buzzed hair. He chuckles, confidence restored now that he’s brought you to the edge. He stays there, committed to your pleasure, until he’s certain you’re ready to take him. You feel his stick one of his thick fingers inside you for a moment, gasping as he tests your wetness. He smirks down at you once he feels how slippery you are.

Your eyes glance down quickly. His dick is fully erect once more. This man got hard just from eating you out; it makes you want him even more. He leans forward, bracing himself with both arms beside your head, kissing you while guiding his cock into your pussy. You gasp again when the tip pushes inside and cry out when he shoves the rest in without warning. He quietly grunts out a raspy "fuck", and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. He lets out short, jagged breaths as he pumps himself inside you. In and out, in and out, steadily increasing in intensity and speed. The smack of your skin against his in rhythm with your moans.

He slows down after some time, panting heavily while he pulls out. His cock still throbs as he holds it, and from his expression you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to explode. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and gives you another command.

“Turn around.”

You flip onto your stomach, then raise your ass in the air for more. His lips trail a path of kisses on each cheek, biting down now and then to keep you on edge. He chuckles every time he hears your little cries, bites a little harder to see how far he can go. Then suddenly, he takes his spanks you hard with his huge hand, causing you to shriek in both pleasure and pain.

“Ouch! God damn it, warn me next time!” you turn back to glare at him, getting a cheeky grin in response. He grips your cheeks, giving you another hard smack. 

“Here’s your warning.”

You don’t bother complaining this time. It feels too fucking good. The way he’s grabbing your hips, pushing his tip inside before ramming his dick into your hole while you cry out over and over, spanking you again and again until your cheeks are reddened and sore. From this angle he’s hitting all the right spots. You feel mindless pleasure, like your brain’s gone blank and all you can think of is his deep thrusts and sexy, guttural groans. He’s quiet, yet intense, focusing entirely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. An orgasm rips through your body, sending electrifying shocks rippling every single nerve ending, but he doesn’t stop there. He’s close, you can sense it. A few moments later he comes again, releasing another heavy load inside you. His cock throbs as his cum fills you up, and he doesn’t pull out until he’s damn finished. And when he is, he collapses on the bed next to you, with a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his bronze skin.

You roll onto your back, taking a minute to catch your breath. You listen to your own unsteady breathing along with his, enjoying the quiet moment and the leftover waves of pleasure washing over your body. After a few minutes, you turn over and start to say something before realizing he’s fast asleep. He snores quietly, arms resting behind his head as he peacefully drifts into slumber.

He looks even cuter when he’s asleep. You laugh softly and nestle yourself in a cozy spot next to him before falling asleep yourself.

—-

The next morning, you carefully unwrap yourself from him and grab your clothes lying haphazardly on the floor. You start to dress yourself, but realize your shirt’s completely wrecked thanks to Zoro’s dumbass ripping it off your shoulders last night. You mutter in irritation and grab his shirt instead. He owed you that much.

As you make your way out of the room, you take one last look at the handsome swordsman and blow him a kiss goodbye before carefully shutting the door behind you. 

You had a lot of fun, even if it was just for the night. You’ll always remember him for that. Alas, he was a pirate, and soon he’d be gone, heading back to the sea in search of adventure.

But he would always know where to find you. 

[heartsoji]

truth or dare?

summary: kuroo has a very special dare for you...

kenma x reader

"y/n! truth or dare?" kuroo yelled, pointing his finger at you.

you didn't hesitate for a moment. "dare."

the circled ooooo-ed as kuroo thought really hard about what he wanted your dare to be.

after around a minute had passed, he looked up at you with a devious smirk that sent shivers down your spine.

"i dare you..." he started, "to kiss your crush on the cheek."

the nekoma volleyball team gasped and began to murmur among themselves.

"y/n's crush?"

"lucky bastard!"

"i bet it's me."

"no, it's not."

whilst the team was trying to figure out who the mystery guy could possibly be, you were just sitting there, sending a nasty death glare to kuroo while he just grinned at you like a cheshire cat.

"what if my crush isn't here?" you challenged.

"he is."

louder oooo's filled the room as they tried to guess who it could be, not bothering trying to be quiet about it now.

"it's probably kai, the lucky bastard!"

"no, no, it's definitely me!"

"lev, shut up."

"who the hell is it?! i'll fight him!"

"yamamoto."

"yep, yaku-san."

"hey kenma," yamamoto called out to the fake blonde sitting outside the circle on his game boy, "who do you think it is?"

he blinked. "think what is?"

"you little- haven't you been listening? y/n's crush. he's in the room." he tsked, putting extra enunciation on the words "y/n's crush."

your cheeks turned mad red and you instantly tried to defend yourself. "he might not be!"

"he is."

"kuroo, you little-!" *SMACK*

"ow! that huuuurt y/n-chan!"

kenma turned his attention back to his game as you held your breath. "dunno. it doesn't really affect me."

your heart sank.

yamamoto sighed. "how kenma of you. this is a big deal!"

but it would affect him. because if you went on with the dare, his cheek would be the one meeting your lips. but if he didn't care, that definitely meant that he didn't reciprocate. then again, kenma remained indifferent about a majority of topics, even ones he was interested in, so just maybe? but it was unlikely, and you really didn't want to ruin your friendship with him when it only started a year ago.

"moving on," kuroo interrupted, wanting to get on with it, "our precious manager-chan here has to complete the dare."

"i'd kick you in the balls if i wasn't so nice." you snarled.

he just grinned in response.

you sighed, knowing that there really wasn't away out of this.

"ok, everyone has to close their eyes."

"what?"

"why?"

"man.."

"everyone has to close their eyes for my pride and privacy. close your eyes, guys. if you open them, you'll be betraying my trust and i would hate you."

everyone gasped. no one wanted that. so, they all complied with your wishes, including kenma, even though he wasn't really playing.

when all the eyes were closed, you tiptoed over to kuroo to whisper a "i really hate you for this. i trusted you with that info, man. now, thanks to you, my friendship with him might be ruined forever. i'm seriously mad at you, kuroo."

you meant it. you were actually really scared for what might happen with kenma. you confided in kuroo so that he could find out what kenma thought of you for you with the condition that he not tell a soul, but he refused to tell you anything when you asked about what kenma said about you, so it ended up being a worthless exchange.

you then tiptoed around the circle, stomping your feet, stopping, and making kissy noises occasionally to try to ensure that they didn't know who it was.

finally, you made a loud smooch in the air right above kenma, and then, heart pounding out of your chest, you leaned down and gave him a gentle peck to the cheek.

you took a second to analyze his reaction, and you noticed an immediate change in the color of his ears. he quickly pulled his hood over them to cover it up, and slowly, his pretty eyes fluttered open. he gave you a small, shy smile before averting his gaze, a flustered look on his face.

that reaction was...good, right?

you walked around the circle once more for good measure, standing extra long in certain spots to ensure that the team wouldn't know.

finally, you returned to your spot in the circle.

"open your eyes."

the team's eyes shot open and they quickly started trying to figure out who the lucky boy was.

"kai, be honest. was it you?"

"no, it wasn't."

"don't lie!"

"i can't believe it wasn't me..."

"lev, the only certainty we had about who it was was that it wasn't you."

while everyone was trying to figure it out, you looked up at kenma, who was already staring at you. you quickly averted your gaze before returning back to him.

he gave you a smile that released a whole butterfly farm in your stomach and gently formed a phone signal with his hand before mouthing, "call me."

i guess you wouldn't be too mad at kuroo.

[azlrse]

a/n: goddamn this account's dead asf but an imagine would revive this place chdhfh

cw: fluff w/ a bit of angst, au not tied in the og! storyline, ooc characters, mc didn't attended the exchange program

Imagine an AU where the reader doesn't go to RAD (not even in the Devildom) but instead, they met one of the brothers while that specific bother went on an errand in the human world. To set the scene, you accidentally dropped something that valuable and then that brother finally catches up to you, returning the said item to you. At first, each of the brothers weren't too fond of you since 1.) You are a powerless human, duh and 2.) You are a bit of a clutz and almost lost that one item that's valuable to you but as time went by, the more you met him, had some kind of small talk to him and by God's love, the shared interest you two shared (for ex: Lucifer's being old records/music, Satan's being cats, etc.), you two became friends and met each other often at the same park you dropped that item months ago.

Fast forward to 2 years and the two of you fell for each other, especially that brother who often came to the human world just to visit you. You and that brother were now dating and he's now open about his life, about his siblings and his fake occupation. Out of all the things he told you in his life, he will always kept that one secret he prays you'll never find out.

Is the fact that he's not a human but a powerful demon that's residing in the Devildom, not to mention as one of the avatars of sins. He didn't want to scare you and this man loves you so much to the point that he is willing to keep such secret in order to protect you.

And the fact that his other siblings are beginning to be suspicious about their brother visiting the human world so often that they began to follow him and eventually meeting you for the first time. Despite you being a human, they know that deep within their hearts that you are a kindhearted person that makes their brother very happy and accepted you when the two of you are now proposed.

Now, 5 years has passed and the two of you are now very happy and married.

Until that specific day wherein your husband's acting very strange lately to the point that you became worried about his health, even offering him to go to the hospital but he refused. Hell, even those late nights he came back as a red light shines through the window of your shared bedroom. You became paranoid, thinking that he might be seeing someone else and leaving you or something or someone is watching you and your husband in your quaint and quiet life in the suburbs.

But it looks like it was different.

Because the moment you came home from your errands in the supermarket, you screamed in horror at the appearance of your husband–horns on his head and wings/tail appeared on his body. Your husband forgot to change back by the time he got home and began to chase after you in an attempt to comfort you, saying that he won't hurt you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and began sobbing hysterically, yelling at the demon that he's an impersonation of your beloved husband, a monster and a human's worse nightmare.

He didn't force his way into the locked bathroom. Instead, he sat down by the door and reassures you that he's the same person you truly loved for all these years, the same man that gave you that item that almost got lost and the same man you befriended and get to know. He knows that you still don't trust him because all the secrets he kept from you, hell even his own siblings were demons and he didn't want his worse fear to happen right in front of him–leaving you for another person because this man loves you very very much.

After an hour of the ordeal, you emerged from the door and sees him on the floor, still sitting as to prevent you from being scared again. He, still on his demon form, opens his arms and hugs you very tightly as he apologizes profusely for keeping such secret Even though the two of you are in good terms, you are still wary of your husband, even if he's on his human form but it's okay. As long as you warm up to him being a demon and doesn't harm you, he is finally contented with you on his arms.

Not until you begin to constantly bug him about seeing his wings/tail excitedly but who are you to blame about admiring the appearance of your husband <33

[please credit/tag me when you compose a fic/drabble with this imagine!]

[quitealotofsodapop]

Mentioned in a Post a while back about a Jttw/LMK AU I had regarding the "Yellow Robed Demon" Arc when Tripitaka got turned into a tiger.

Book Summary;

Tripitaka manages to escape his capture (for once) and passes on a message to the King of Baoxiang from his daughter, Baihuaxiu, explaining that she was kidnapped and made the forced bride of a demon (ironically making it a magical version of what befell Tripitaka's mother when he was a baby).

Kui Mulang rolls in with a human glamour and goes: "Nu-Uh! I'm but a humble human hunter. THIS guy is a tiger demon who attacked a girl some time ago. I save her and we've been living a simple life for the last 13 years!" (Lie)

So the dude pulls an Uno-Reverse and transforms Tripitaka into a tiger (or in some versions, glamours him into one). The King and his subjects believe this 100% since Tripitaka and the Pilgrims don't look so great without Wukong there to act as PR (he was exiled at the time for the White Bone Spirit incident).

Tripitaka is apparently aching-beautiful no matter his form though;

Wukong even feels kinda bad for his Master, since the transformation is so good that he can't even see through it with Gold Vision. Also imagine a sad giant kitty, that would bum anyone out.

Of course things are resolved by the end of the arc; the gang reunite with their monkey, Ao Lie gets his own badass chapter, the Princess is saved, Bajie kills the couple's two half-demon wolf children, the Yellow Robed Demon is revealed to be Revatī - the Wood Wolf of Legs after Wukong catches the demon commenting on his performance during the Havoc (Wukong has a few Columbo moments in the book like this), and Tripitaka is transformed back into his squishy monk self.

Bonus - Tripitaka as a tiger from a book illustration + the 1999 cartoon.

The book illustration + description suggests he's a rare Pseudo-melanistic "Black Tiger" seen in India, possibly an Indo-Chinese Tiger, or a South China Tiger with a darker back.

So here's where the timeline shifts...

The Wood Wolf of Legs ain't happy to be dragged away from (what he believed to be mutual) his true love on earth + his two kids, so he curses the Tang Monk to not only retain part of the glamour he imposed upon him, but to transform him fully into a carnivorous feline demon. Also as an extra "F-k you!" to the Jade Court he and his past love fled from, since the Queen Mother is a celestial tigress herself.

The Pilgrims freak out, obviously.

Guanyin is called up and is like;

Guanyin: "Well, you did unjustly punish and exile your best bodyguard because you didn't trust his judgement, seeing him only as a murderous beast... so *your* punishment is to deal with the rest of your Journey as one of the very same creatures you see as mindlessly bloodthirsty." Tripitaka, now cursed to stay a catboy: "Dang it." (≽^╥⩊╥^≼)

He still gets to wear the robes and walk upright -think Master Tigress from Kung Fu Panda but as a wimpy, twink-shaped, monk.

Tripitaka aint' having fun. He's a life-long vegetarian who's suddenly an apex hypercarnivore. He tries his best for the longest time to stay on the veggies (and durian weirdly enough since tigers like those), but eventually he will need to chow down on some bleeding protein.

And his team literally consists of the main diet of a tiger...

Wukong, a monkey: "Master isn't looking too good." Zhu Bajie, a pig: "I don't like the way he's been looking at us. I burnt my finger making the campfire and he looked ready to pounce!" Sha Wujing, a fish: "I'm not surprised. Cats are of few beasts that absolutely require meat protein to survive." Ao Lie, currently a horse: "If he goes feral, I vote we sacrifice the pig first." Wujing & Wukong: "Agreed." Zhu Bajie: "HEY!!" (₍•̀ ⚇•́ ₎) Tripitaka, meditating hard: "Perhaps if I eat a watermelon, it would sustain my desire for flesh?"

What worse?

Tripitaka is still considered smoking hot. Now by demon standards too!

The Trio of Lion Camel Ridge prepare to attack the Pilgrims when;

Azure Lion: (*sees that the Great Monk is actually a beautiful tiger.*) Azure Lion, lowering his sword: "Guys, do not mess this up for me." Peng & Yellow Tusk: (*annoyed groans!*)

[bahrtofane]

after pleading and much excitement on kylians’ end, you finally bite the bullet and take him with you to your hometown of algiers. 

kylian x algerian!reader

word count : 1.3K+

watch it: fluffy fluff fluff, mild over thinking and angst if u rly rly dig deep for it 

luv my country fr fr

—--

theres a small dent on the wall from where you banged your elbow so hard you swore you broke it. you were around 10. it's been years, and the little spot still stands. you never forget to run your thumb over the ridges, the cool wall warming under your touch.

It's been years, but the wall holds the memory, a mirror of you. each flick of your thumb ignites the scene inside your head over and over, you swear you can feel your elbow sting. you remember the way you hissed sharply and called for your mom, who came scuring from the hallway. and how your cousins all lined up to see the damage and soon teased you for being a baby. screeching at the 'crater' you left in the wall. your aunt snapped a picture of the comotion while she laughed hysterically, hand on her hip, head tossed back while the rest of the family filled in to check out the commotion. 

you were given a wet towel to keep in your elbow till the swelling went down. and the teasing never stopped, in fact you're bound to have it happen at any second. your cousins called you bulldozer for years, some still do. that's even your contact name in a few of their phones. 

it's so silly how such a little moment from so many years ago carries on. wasn't even your funniest moment in full honesty. you have much better ones. 

it's been years, and it remains one of your many contributions to your grandmother's little flat. cozy and quaint in the center of algiers. today you bring a new addition, kylian.

you joked about taking him once, just a passing comment while you showed him pictures from your last trip. he hummed, latching onto the idea like an excited puppy to a chew toy. bothering you with itineraries (as if you need one in your hometown?), your texts are a wall of flight screen shots at this point. and of course bombarding you with questions every second he got the chance. 

"should i pack light?"

"what cities will you take me to?"

"do you think i'll need to bring a lot of security?"

in truth, you were hesitant to bring him along.

 going back home is a feeling you can never get enough of. from the moment you step off the airplane and the familiar smell of your country hits your face, to your first dip into the mediterranean, a homemade meal, singing out of cars in the dead of night while you race through the city. 

bringing him is an intimate ordeal. your country is your first love, first home. she raised you in a sense. 

she is a part of him, the same as she is of you. but having him in your grandmother's home? introducing him to your very lively extended family? you don't know about that.

you were worried about your sanity as much as his. you know the questions will be never ending. he's your fiance now after all, wedding in the works. this is only going to add to the disaster that is wedding planning. you know you're going to have to squeeze in promises of inviting your 2nd cousins aunts cats neighbors gardener. 

and how could you forget, he's kylian. kylian mbappe. there's no way you're bringing him to the heart of algiers and going to be free to roam the streets as you please.

you know you'll never be able to do so on your own again once the media puts two and two together. good by freedom. it's easy in resorts or fancy hotels. everything can be arranged. but not here. 

you and kylian value your privacy dearly. french media has barely ever gotten a proper look at your face and you intend to keep it that way. but you don't think you can get away with that here. you want to show him real places that hold history and the people. not just fancy villas on the coast that cost more than you want to think about. 

he pleaded with you anyway, even after you voiced your concerns. "i have an agent and security for a reason. just take me and the rest will come easy. don't even worry."

you frowned, "it'll be in the summer, when everyone else and their mother is going."

"i just want to see it you know, authentically. i want to experience just a part of what you did growing up." he confessed, shy. 

and so you caved. and here he is. leaning against that same wall you rammed into all those years ago, fanning his face with a pile of notebook paper he found lying around after a long day of unpacking the gifts you bought for your family. 

he's had a long day of posing for pictures and videos, all of which you rolled your eyes at. it's nearing sunset, and you press your forehead against the familiar cool wall of one of the living rooms. it's going to be where you sleep for the next 2 weeks or so. 

the couches convert to beds and you get to play the age-old game of war with the mosquitoes that torment you. you haven't told kylian yet. he needs to be ambushed in the middle of the night for the full authentic experience. ha ha ha. 

you look back to where kylian is sat on the couch perpendicular to yours, hes given up on the fanning. hand under his thighs while he watches what he can of the balcony. you can see the sea from here. in all its beauty. the gentle wind it brings flutters the curtains while you hum. 

tomorrow he meets the rest of your family and you can't help the butterflies that pool in your stomach at the thought. your fiance, meeting the rest of what makes this house a home. you can't wait. for now though, all you want to do is nap.

you get up from your couch, sliding on your socks to press up against his side. even if its pushing near broiling temperatures. he doesn't complain, only bringing his hands to cup your face gently, giving your nose a peck. 

"its so beautiful here, " he sighs, "thank you for bringing me."

you hum into his lips, giving them a firm kiss, "you're welcome my love. i'll show you around tomorrow. it's time for my post flight nap."

he gives you a lazy smile, "yes please i was waiting for you to bring it up. it's past my nap time." he pouts.

you roll your eyes and throw one of the couches throw pillows against his chest. he manages to grab it, hurling it back at you. and while you're distracted he curls his hands against your side, tickling you till you yelp and thrash in his hold, back pressed against the couch while you gasp in between laughter. 

he finally lets you go and collapses on top of you, kissing any skin he can reach.

"okay get off, it's too hot for that." you groan.

he at least listens to that, peeling himself off you and retreating to the far end of the couch while you set up yours for what you know is going to be top 5 naps of your life, easy. 

against the gentle breeze and city sounds, you're lulled to sleep. in your vision you see kylian getting ready to do the same, reaching over to press one sound kiss on your forehead before settling down into his little bubble. 

you could do this forever you think. you're glad he came.

[hazbinshusk]

husk x fem!reader. a sequel to the fic in which you catch husk humping your pillow. the bartender, ashamed of himself, has been avoiding you now for days - at least as best he can while stuck behind the bar. so, what else can you do but take to sitcom logic in order to level the playing field between the two of you? featuring: masturbation (afab!reader), exhibitionism, and a gob-smacked (and very aroused) husk. 1.4k. tagging @irkimatsu because they requested the original fic :) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hey, can we talk? Please?

Husk’s phone is perhaps one of the least utilized in all of the ring of Pride, rarely considered and seldom used. Texting isn’t his thing, and who would he need to call? Just about everyone he still associated with was here in this damned hotel, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t easy to track down stuck behind the bar every day. So, while he kept it charged as per Charlie’s gentle request (and Vaggie’s dryly given order) that all staff are contactable while they’re out recruiting, he barely ever spared it even a glance.

But now…

Now the damned thing is burning into his periphery, and has been since you sent him those texts three hours ago.

A flash of your wide eyes and flushed cheeks passes through his mind and he frowns, reaching blindly for whatever bottle is closest. His claws wrap around a whiskey bottle and he tugs the stopper out of the neck, swallowing down three long pulls of burning liqueur.

“Ooh, somethin’s got kitty all twisted…”

Husk looks up disapprovingly as Angel Dust arrives at the bar, settling himself gracefully onto his usual stool with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. The bartender tosses the stopper onto the bar, taking another swig. “Don’t.”

Angel pouts teasingly, accepting the glass of the same that Husk pours him. Usually he’d prefer something sweeter, but its late and work was long, so the hard stuff will work just fine. Besides, whatever is twisting up Husk into an angry little pretzel is so much tastier. He knocks back the drink, setting the glass back down in front of his friend. “Aw, what’s wrong, Whiskers?”

Husk growls quietly – a warning for Angel to shut the hell up – which the porn star, of course, ignores. He pulls another glass out from under the bar, pouring the two of them another drink. Angel’s eyebrow shoots up again as Husk’s own glass is filled almost to the rim.

“This got anythin’ to do with the way you’ve been avoidin’ our other favorite resident the last few days?” Angel asks knowingly, and Husk almost chokes on his drink. Had you told him what Husk had done? That you’d found him humping your fucking pillow like some kind of creep? That he hadn’t fucking stopped even when you’d walked in? How he’d cum like a fucking pervert while you’d watched?

“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I’m talkin’ about the tasty little sinner you’ve been gettin’ all heart-eyed over since they moved in.” the spider says pointedly. He takes another sip of his drink, exhaling the burn slowly.

“I ain’t—”

“I ain’t blind.” Angel points out. “And if I gotta watch her ass mope around the hotel for one more day because you’re avoidin’ her, I’m gonna lose my damn mind. She’s no fuckin’ fun like this an’ if I’m expected to stay sober in this place imma need the two o’ ya to do ya fuckin’ part. An’ I’ve always liked a romance a helluva lot more than a drama. Or, ya know, at the very least a good age gap porno.”

Husk snorts despite himself. “And here I thought you were worried about someone other than yourself for once,”

Angel grins. “So?”

The cat glances surreptitiously towards his phone. “I ain’t avoiding her.”

“No?” Angel notices, and the fucker manages to snag the phone before Husk can stop him. He smirks at the lack of password and opens it with ease, the screen still settled on the messages you’d sent him hours ago. “Oooh… what’cha got to talk about?”

Husk’s face burns despite himself. “Fuck off.”

“Sure.” Angel shrugs, tapping out a response and sending it before Husk can stop him. He tosses the phone back to the swearing feline, shooting him a wink as he stands to leave. “But only so you two can ‘talk’.”

Husk flips him off as he goes, a growl rumbling out through gritted fangs. He glares after the spider until he’s out of sight, his ears falling low as he glances down at the phone in his paw.

Husk: I’m off in ten.

“Shit.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Husk swallows heavily as he stands outside the door to your suite, rubbing a hand through the fur at the side of his neck. He should just keep walking, head back to his own room, and drown his embarrassment in whatever booze he can scrounge up in there.

Hell, maybe you might not ever forget what he’d done, but with enough alcohol, maybe he can.

He sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to re-read the response you’d sent him only minutes after Angel’s text.

Come see me in my room?

Husk groans to himself before finally raising a fist and knocking hesitantly on the wood of the door. “Hey, it’s… it’s me.”

“Come in.”

Your response comes immediately, and Husk’s ears twitch forward at the breathy quality in your voice. He hesitates a moment longer before finally turning the knob and pushing open the door.

And his heart stops, blood rushing into his cheeks and lower.

You’re laid out on your bed, propped up on the pillows so you can meet his gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your face is flushed, a sweet, almost innocent pink staining your cheeks. You’re all but naked, a bra of red silk wrapped around your chest. One of the straps is hanging off your shoulder, the cup sitting low enough that husk can see the dusky skin of your nipple peeking out from under it. Knees bent and legs splayed wide, you bite your lip and whimper with your hand between your thighs, two fingers pumping eagerly in and out of your wet, wet pussy.

And you have one of his bowties wrapped around that palm.

“Hi…” you whine as you slip your fingers out of you to instead tease over your clit, your hips bucking up into your hand. The red silk of the tie is stained with your cum, soaked in it, and Husk’s lips part, his breath coming heavily.

“Hi,” he replies softly, the hint of a disbelieving smile touching the edge of his lips. “You…”

“Fuck…” you moan quietly and Husk curses at the sound of it. He doesn’t want to blink, to miss a second of what you’re doing in front of him… for him. “Fuck, Husk…”

He groans as you slip your fingers back into your cunt, your other hand coming up squeeze at your breast needily. He can see your nipple harden and catch between your fingers, and the door closes behind him with a quiet snap as he steps further into the room, enclosing him in the heady scent of your arousal.

Any nerves you felt over this plan have melted away with the expression on Husk’s face, the soft silk a teasing friction against your clit. You have to force yourself not to close your eyes, thrilling in the way his pupils have all but eclipsed his irises as he watches you. Husk clears his throat, his breath shaking. “Didn’t… didn’t have to do this, doll.”

“Always do it for you,” you confess, voice reedy, and God above if those words don’t go straight to his dick.

“Fuck, sweetness…”

“Feels so good, Husk,” you murmur needily, rolling your hips up against your hand. The sound of you fucking yourself, the wetness of your cunt and the breathy moans that escape you are more addictive than anything else Husk has ever sampled, and his cock aches with the need to feel that tight heat wrapped around it. “Fuck, it feels good…”

“God, you look so pretty, baby,” he breathes, and you swear, you could get drunk off all these pet names. “Such a pretty thing…”

“Please, Husk…” you whimper, humping up into your hand, and you moan needily as you watch him palm his cock through his pants and squeeze. He exhales a groan, eyes rolling back for a second. Your other hand leaves your breast to instead join the other between your legs, your thighs clenching around your hands as you fuck yourself onto your fingers and frantically rub at your clit. “God, fuck, please. Please…”

Husk feels like he could pass out when he replies, “Cum for me, sweetness.”

A few more moments and your hips lift off the sheets. You cum with a broken, drawn-out moan of his name, eyes squeezing closed and your thighs shuddering with every wave of your orgasm. The bowtie is soaked, dripping with your cum, and Husk can’t help the fleeting thought of wearing your scent around his neck. He exhales a curse as he watches, transfixed, and God does he want to bury his face between those quivering thighs and taste that ambrosia between your legs.

Fuck.

You’re beautiful.