#i love him as tumble and pounce

[gotham-native]

Pete Simpson as Tumblebrutus, Pouncival, and Mistoffelees

i love him, he's so pretty and always slays

[onlygarden]

[too much, baby?] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: dom jungwon, unprotected sex, rough sex, jungwon just can't stop himself, a bit of size kink, jungwon likes when you cry, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: to the anon who requested this, i hope it meets your expectations and i do apologize if you were expecting it to be shorter but i unfortunately cannot stop rambling when it comes to jungwon.

the tranquility of the afternoon floats throughout your home as jungwon enters the bedroom with the sole purpose of admiring you, his lovely girlfriend. he was always captivated by an overwhelming sensation of surreality whenever he took in everything that comprised you. the beauty that forcefully beamed out of you was so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away from you even if he wanted to. why would he ever want to to do that, though? your existence itself far surpassed the confines of realism. to jungwon, you just couldn’t be real.

astonishment shook him as he took notice of the clothing that relaxed around your body. the large white shirt that belonged to him (needless to say) complemented your body without even hugging any part of it. your tiny body always made his clothes look so big, and he was enraptured by that alluring contradiction. he notices your lack of clothing too; beneath his large shirt, you shamelessly donned no bra, and he only assumes you’re wearing panties since your legs stand completely bare. 

if he pounced on your unsuspecting figure right now, you would willingly oblige to any manner he decided to mistreat your body in. he knew just how far to go with you, and you would always let him ring you out completely dry, anyway. 

“what are you doing, noona?” jungwon suddenly questions you, his slim figure approaching you, shoulders broad as ever. your throat grows tight as you watch the way jungwon places his hand upon the dresser you’re currently folding clothes in. he was so close to you, and he loomed over you like he was trying to hold you captive. 

“just folding clothes,” you answer simply, finally carrying your eyes to meet his. your hands freeze their actions as jungwon’s expression flings you into a state bordering on fright. 

he stood above you, gazing down onto you with an unsettling gloom in his eyes. though dull, his eyes pierced into you like he was trying to tame an inner unwavering desire. what got him like this?

his finger casually lands upon your thigh, directly below the hem of your shirt. he drags it upwards with deliberate pacing, his eyes patiently attached to the skin his finger carefully reveals. he stops once he sees a trace of your lacy thong; his eyes fall shut as he exhales, and he opens them to return his sinister gaze to you. 

“are you doing this on purpose y/n? do you want me to make you cry?” 

your breath hitches, and you’re not sure if your body was surging with heat or chills. the words that tumbled from his lips hurled your mind into a complete frenzy. god he was so blatant, and he was always violently throwing you off track with his sudden tenacity. 

“jungwon,” you start, only to be interrupted by his entire hand now moving underneath your shirt, gliding along the course of your waist as his relentless gaze returns to your body.

you remove your hands from the drawer, steadily inching it closed before jungwon slams it shut with impatience. your body flinches vaguely.

he glides his other hand underneath your shirt, both hands grabbing your waist as he forces you to face him completely.

“i’m gonna make sure you don’t ever think about teasing me like this again,” jungwon says, his low voice almost distracting you from his outlandish words. you weren’t getting him riled up on purpose, you would’ve never even guessed he’d make such a sudden switch when he joined you in the room. 

his body presses directly against you as he guides you towards the bed, lifting you up to toss you onto it before you can even feel it behind you. 

climbing on top of you, jungwon immediately moves to pull his shirt off of your body. he hurriedly tugs your panties down your legs, and you feel the lace scrape against your legs before they’re completely removed. 

his hands return to your body with greed, pushing your thighs apart and shoving a finger inside of you. he sighs as his finger becomes drenched in your slippery essence, the intensity of your wetness leaving him astonished since he had only touched you a few times. he doesn’t flash a trace of pity as he shoves another finger inside of you, starting at a brutal pace. 

“i barely touched you, aren’t you ashamed?” he asks, ridiculing you. you just couldn’t control the way your body reacted to him, your insides always melting just for him, all your sensible judgment readily surrendering to the mere idea of him touching you. 

the feeling of jungwon’s long, slender fingers punishing your insides began to bury your senses in devastating pleasure. he’s sure to watch you intently, catching every twitch, moan, and sigh his fingers force out of you. he pushes the palm of his hand against you clit, enjoying the way you clamp onto his fingers, making it more difficult for him to pump them in and out of you. 

your orgasm approaches quickly, demolishing your senses and overriding them with pleasure that truly seemed to be too much, but jungwon can’t bring himself to stop. 

“jungwon, stop! please!” you beg pathetically, moaning through your words to the point of them almost becoming indecipherable. 

“i don’t want to,” he says simply, his low voice still making your mouth water. jungwon admired your body underneath him, his expression somewhat brooding. the sight of you writhing beneath him further aggravated his urge to push your body into the mattress and fuck you to tears. 

“give me another one, i know you can,” he says, wanting your mind to be nothing more than a cloud that swirled with thoughts of him. 

after much denial and idle refusal, you came around his fingers one more time, your proper thinking drifting away from you as jungwon pulled his fingers out of your leaking pussy. 

you looked absolutely delirious, just how jungwon wanted you to be. the only thing your mind could prompt you to do now was beg and plead for jungwon. 

properly satisfied with your pitiful condition, jungwon strips himself of his clothes, beyond eager to plunge himself deep into your wetness. his hardened cock twitched in anticipation.  

you spilled so generously that it flowed out of you, creating a puddle beneath you. jungwon adored the sight before him, loving the way you bloomed just for him.

“you made a huge mess, baby,” jungwon says softly. “aren’t you sorry?” 

you whine as he pushes your thighs towards your chest, moving to line himself up with your entrance.  

he sinks into you hastily, pounding you with ferocity and speed from the start. a low, breathy moan escapes him as he relishes the feeling and the sounds of your slick pussy latching onto him. 

“i asked you a question,” jungwon reminds you, looking down at you with a stony expression decorating his face. 

how were you ever supposed to even begin to formulate an answer to his question when jungwon’s long cock was stretching you open, plowing further inside of you than you could ever dream about, and absolutely abusing the most delicate part of your body with hunger.

“sorry! i’m sorry!” you manage to blurt out, moans entwined with your words and you can only hope he accepts it as an answer. 

“i know you are,” jungwon says as he slips his length out of you. he flips your body over, negligent to any discomfort he might cause you; all he’s concerned with is forcing you open. 

you’re laid on your stomach, and jungwon pushes one of your legs upwards, giving himself a clear entrance to the warmth that he can’t wait to bury himself in. 

he rams back into you, his pace just as brutal as before, and the weight of his body against you pins you to the bed. 

“did you think i’d let you walk around here in my shirt and not do anything about it?” jungwon asks with no real expectation of an answer this time. one of his hands grabs onto your hip, mercilessly squeezing as he thrusts into you with increased severity. 

he bites onto your shoulder from behind you, furrowing his brows and groaning near your ear so delightfully as he savors every bit of your divine pussy. 

“you’re so tiny baby, all you can do is lay here and take what i give you,” jungwon says, unable to contain himself at the way your body is trapped underneath his larger frame.

tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you become submerged by jungwon’s relentless pummeling, your clit grazing against the mattress below you. your orgasm was reaching you fast. 

“jungwon, stop!” you suddenly cry, not actually wanting him to stop, your words purely emerging from your internal feud to wrangle (or simply process) the pleasure coursing through your body. 

he would never move on from how breathtaking you looked in this moment. 

“i told you i’d make you cry, baby. even if you think it’s too much, you deserve it,” his words are propelling you further into hysteria than you were ever prepared to reach. 

he grabs one of your wrists, squeezing it and pinning it beside you, as his breath traces your ear in a deep moan. you breathing grows rapid, your legs beginning to quiver beneath him as you cum onto his length, moaning for him beyond your control. jungwon continues to forcefully grace you with his thrusts, unsparing in the way he pounded you through your orgasm. 

“your little pussy can barely take it, baby,” jungwon grabs onto your thigh, letting out low, breathy moans as he floats closer to his high.

you feel overwhelmed as he continues his inhumane treatment of your body, barely recovering from your own orgasm. 

as he reaches his high, he stammers out a groan, gripping your thigh to a painful degree, earning blaring moans from you. 

jungwon collapses onto you, his full weight pressing you further into the mattress, his heavy breath stroking your face. he takes a few moments to caress the side of your body before lifting himself up, and sliding his length out of your exhausted figure. 

“i’ll clean you up, noona,” jungwon gently mutters, leaving the bed to prepare a washcloth. 

when jungwon returns, he carefully turns your body over, noticing just how drained he left you.

“i’m sorry for wearing you out, baby,” he laughs a bit, running the warm, wet towel along your body, massaging the parts of you he punished with his grip. 

“no you’re not,” you jest tiredly, smiling up at your tender boyfriend.

jungwon chuckles. “you’re right, i’m not,” he pokes back, a wide smile stretching out his face when you reach out to slap his chest. 

jungwon lifts your upper body to a sitting position in order to drape his shirt over your frame, gently laying you back onto the bed after you’re dressed. he chuckled at the way your tired muscles nearly gave out from simply sitting up, the blame lying in the rough way he preyed on your body. 

jungwon dresses himself in lounge clothes before joining you on the bed, pulling your body directly against his until your back touched his chest. “you did well for me, baby,” jungwon says, running his hand across the dip of your waist in appreciation. “i’ll try to contain myself while you’re wearing my shirt this time,” jungwon laughs when you contribute to his teasing (much to his enjoyment), and gently elbow him where he lay behind you.

[dragonsholygrail]

HI HI HI I LOVED UR PUPPY BF BLURBO BTW- HI ! um food for thought... cat bf? maybe? like the total opposite of puppy but still absolutely needy lmao HI!

When you walk into your home the silence that greets you automatically unsettles you to the bone. While usually your Cat bf is all over you as soon as you walk in the door after you come home, now he’s nowhere to be seen. You close the door behind you, looking around the empty hall.

“Bubba, where are you?” You ask sweetly, even using his favorite nickname as you wonder if he’s upset with you for some reason.

Entering the living room you look around for him, thinking he has to be here. All his favorite napping spots, besides your soft squishy body, are in the living room. Just as you’re about to look behind the couch, a heavy weight pounces on you from behind and you both tumble to the ground.

A mix of soft purring and rough growling echo in your ear and vibrate into your back with your bf’s chest so tightly against you. Your bf grinds his cock into your clothed core, showing you how needy he had grown without you there. You can’t help but moan, arching into the girth of his length.

“You’re late,” your bf grumbles, his tail flicking in agitation before it curls tightly around your leg.

Your breath hitches as you realize why he wasn’t at the door. He is very much upset with you and by his hardness you know exactly why. So as soon as he starts clawing at your clothes and practically shredding them, you immediately help him get them off till you’re bare for him.

He stares at you, his pupils dilating wide at the sight of your glistening pussy already so wet for him. He can’t keep his hands off of you a second longer and he races to grab handfuls of your flesh, kneading them and watching your curves shift deliciously.

You yelp as he uses his hold to finally yank you back against his body. A shaky moan leaves you as his dick slides between your wet folds, catching every drop of your essence he can. You can hear him sigh and his body relaxes almost completely now that he’s about to be inside you.

He leans his chest over till his form is surrounding your large frame. The weight of him is comforting and a smile tugs at your lips at he nuzzles into your hair, taking deep whiffs of your scent.

“Waited so so long for you, it was torture. Weren’t back when you said. So unfair,” your bf whines and you can feel the pout of his lips on your head.

You gasp sharply as his tip rubs into your clit with every rock of his hips and you know it’s on purpose. Your bf wanting to torture you just like you had him.

“L-let me make it up to you,” you breathe out, arching your hips. Prepared for him to finally take you.

Before you can process the movement, your bf is flipping you onto your back, clearly needing to see your face. Trying to gain your senses your bf easily throws your legs over his shoulders and plunges into your wet heat. You mewl, back arching to take him inside you even faster.

“Just wanna fuck you, baby. Can I please fuck you? Wanna feel you clench around my cock and milk me dry,” your bf whines, his cock already fucking up into you with shallow thrusts. You don’t even think he realizes.

“Go ahead, it’s ok, it’s ok.”

With another whine he picks up his pace, his claws digging into your wide hips so he can pound away at your pussy like he’s been waiting to for the entire day. He ducks his head into your neck as if trying to get as close to you as possible. His whimpers quiet in your ear.

You moan, your hands clawing down his back in a way that has him hissing and pumping into your tight cunt with fierce determination. You meet his every thrust, wanting to reach so deep inside you that you feel him in your throat. Your bf’s whimpers grow louder and you try and squeeze his cock in reassurance.

“It always hurts being so far away from you. Just wanna stay with you, stay inside you, please,” he whines, rutting into you so hard the sound of your bodies meeting fills the room.

Your heart aches for your bf, even as your pleasure climbs higher from your mixed desperation to be together. You moan with every snap of his hips, barely even able to talk but you have to try.

“T-then come inside me. Fill me up to the brim so a part of you can stay inside me. C’mon, bubba. Need your cum. Let go,” you beg breathlessly.

Your bf growls and shifts to push your knees to your chest. Ripping a gasp from your throat as he stretches you even further. Your orgasm sweeps over you a few thrusts later and you scream, clenching onto your bf in every way. Forcing him to follow you into ecstasy. His cum gushing into your eager pussy and making you feel even more full.

Neither of you can get enough, your bodies still furiously meeting even as overstimulation begins to set in. When he whines again you relent and you both slow down until he sags on top of you. You stay like this for who knows how long and you know your bf doesn’t want to leave and risk his cum gushing out of you by the way he clings to you.

“How about you get the plug, love? Can make sure it all stays in. Then we can have some more cuddles.”

Your bf jerks up to meet your eye, a bright smile on his face. His attitude completely turned around from when you first walked into the door now that he’s had you. It won’t be for the last time tonight but he can’t resist cuddles for the life of him.

He carefully pulls out before rushing down the hall to your shared room. You watch him with an adoring smile, having hated being home late almost as much as he had.

[sordidmusings]

Thirsty Thursday with Mihawk - The Hat Stays ON

Art by koitosoup

A/N: This is very indulgent because I needed desperate and needy Mihawk to exist and this prompt tumbled right on into that to sate me 🤡 (at the airport hoping no one is looking over my shoulder rn too LOL)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: afab!reader, NSFW, p in v, forceful undertones towards beginning, desk sex, creampie, begging, praise, lots of the pet name "love", Mihawk is like super needy he moans "please" dude, he's also very in love, and trying sUPER hard not to finish first by the end 💀, stress relief before Cross Guild meeting, brief moment shit-talking the other two lol turns real sweet at the end cuz I couldn’t help myself

Please enjoy this man being as close to a mess as I think I can convincingly get him ╰(▔∀▔)╯

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk is usually the type of man to fully take his time enjoying every inch of you.

Usually.

“I know, love, I know,” his voice is full of panting desperation, worn to a fluster by his pressing need and his frantic firm thrusts into you. “I’ll make it up to you later, I just -nnhah- just gotta fuck you now -nnnhg fuck- don’t wanna think about anything but how fucking good it feels inside you.”

When Mihawk came to your study not thirty minutes before the next Cross Guild meeting, this was the last thing you were expecting. Though, it did fly right to the top of the list when you saw the intensity of his shining gold eyes on you and the rigidness of his figure, all coiled muscle waiting to pounce and gritted teeth waiting to tear. You’d barely been able to get just his jacket over his shoulders before he was on you, speaking his need and hunger with persistent lips and hands. He was so set on getting his fill that he simply let his prized coat be dragged down his arms and thrown to the floor. Somehow, his hat survived the rush of his motions and the beloved closeness necessary for his demanding kisses.

Though they were rare, you loved the times he was like this, using you for his pleasure, clinging to you and taking you like nothing else in the world would ever suffice in sating him. You got just as much out of these times as he did, but you played it as a favor, partly for the delicious flavor it added to the dynamic to hear him apologize, beg, and thank as much as the stalwart Dracule Mihawk can and partly to earn the long and worshipful treatment he’d reward you with later. You’re not sure how he hasn’t caught onto you yet. Seeing the meticulously controlled man lose himself in his desire for you has you dripping, shown in the wet slap on each strong thrust. It was surely enough to give your abundant eagerness away.

Beyond that, you are just as ravenous for him, thighs clamped around his sides, hands gripping tightly to his tense forearms as he fucks you on your desk. You feel the jump of each muscle from their work sinking a bruising grip into your hips, manhandling them forward and back opposite the motion of his hips to fuck you just like he wants - like you’re a lifeline and if he just digs as deeply as he can into your sweet cunt as quickly as he can then he can finally breathe again.

Your heels pull him in on each quick thrust, the clench of your legs and abs for the motion helping a rhythmic pulse stroke at every inch of your walls and further firm your swollen lips and clit to absorb each delicious impact of Mihawk’s hips. The soft, sweat-damp skin of his back and sides teases your sensitive inner thighs and calves as he fucks you, his obliques dancing especially sinfully against your flesh. You loved admiring the look of his chiseled figure but absolutely nothing compared to the bliss of him using it against you.

The urge Mihawk has to collapse down over you and continuously drag you as close as possible is strong, but it is beat out by the erotic sight of watching the slap of his hips bounce your body. It lets you have a beautiful sight too; Mihawk backlit and looming over you, muscles fully displaying their strength and tone with the lack of his jacket, his curled hair and the feather on his cap swaying in time with him fucking into you. The hat still resting on his head only makes you feel smaller captured under him; he always looks impressive with it on and it makes the shadow he casts over you that much larger.

Mihawk uses an iron grip to throw one of your bare legs to hook over his shoulder. He uses his other hand to grip the inside of the other and shove it to the side, flat on your desk, trapping it down by putting his weight into his hold on your thigh. It forces your hips to turn on their side, giving him a new angle to work you open on his thick cock. The change has each forceful drag of his cock in you feel new again, recharging your nerves in their pleasant screaming. You tell him their call through whiny panting, chants of his name, and streams of “yes! like that, so good, fuck me harder, need it, need you so bad-”

There’s a firm thump and rattle of your desk as his hand plants next to your head to keep from collapsing over you. It leaves him crouching over you like a predator, but the hazy need in his eyes begging you to let him keep feeling this forever betrays the fact that he’s as deeply in your clutches as he tries to snatch you into his. The thickness of your thigh trapped between you helps keep him up as well as his other hand still pressing your leg down. His fingers that are sunk into your thigh dig deeper and tremble with his pleasure and overwhelm.

“Gods, love, you’re perfect, want to live between your thighs,” Mihawk groans, so close you can feel his panting breath cool the sweat on your face. He’s fighting his eyes to stay open, needing to see the pleasure scrunching your brow, loosening your jaw, fogging your eyes. The fluttering of his lids catches your eyes and swells your heart, shooting arousal through you from knowing he’s feeling so desperately good from fucking you. The amber of his eyes is so bright trained on you that it seems to glow through the shadows haunting his face. It makes him look all the more feral as he grips, spreads, bends, and fucks you like he wants to eat you whole. “Just -hahn- need some more from you, can you -nngaaah- do that for me, little love?”

You sob out a moan as you snap your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. The soreness his weight is pressing through your thigh and the tender stretch from your other leg being folded to your shoulder add more buzzing chaos to the sensations swirling their way through your body to flood your brain. The way he holds you open lets your clit take a soft impact every time he shoves his whole length into your plush pussy, giving the bud more little teases with how your body reverberates from the impact. 

“Look at me while I fuck you,” Mihawk snarls, but there’s desperation bleeding through the growl in his voice. You want to whine back at his request but you want to please him even more. You blink your eyes open and the raw need in them has Mihawk collapse just a bit more over you, feeling the want you and your pleasures ravage through his body begin to burn him alive. The brim of his hat taps lightly on your forehead from his closeness while he pants and moans to you, “Like that, love, fuck you’re so good for me.”

Meeting your gaze is a double edged sword; his arousal magnifies, his soul lights up, and his cock twitches hard but it also throws him to feeling right on the precipice of cumming and he’s not ready to stop feeling you. The siren song of the wet slapping of your hips, the slick sound of your pussy gushing around him and trying to keep him sucked as deep as he can reach, and your panting breaths carrying high moans and pleads and praises all tempt him to let the torrent of pleasure rush over him, promise him it would feel like endless blissful sin. It is all the harder to resist because he knows exactly how delicious it feels to sheathe himself from root to tip in you and pump stream after stream of hot cum into your welcoming walls while your cunt clings to him almost as tightly and desperately as his hands cling to you.

“Love, need you to cum,” Mihawk rushes out. He palms the hand on your thigh up so he can rub circles over your swollen clit. Your moans gain even more volume, filling the air in your office almost as thickly as the sweet, musky scent of sex.

“Need it, please,” he whispers breathlessly, “Need to feel you -nnnnhhah- love, love, need to feel your cunt sque-heeze me.” 

His vision begins blurring from the strain of staying right on the edge of cumming, barely holding back the powerful orgasm built from the burning in his muscles, the tingling in his fingers, the swirling in his head, and the throbbing of his cock. Giving up on trying to refocus them, he scrunches his eyes shut and lets his forehead fall down to rest on your temple, finally bumping his hat to fall onto the desk next to you. His closed eyes allow him to focus in better on all the other ways you are filling his senses, latching especially to your open mouth serenading him with needy babbling and fucked out moans.

“Can you be -ghahh- good and do that for me?” Mihawk pleads against your cheek. “Can you cum for me?”

“Y-yes, please, wanna be -mmmngh- good for you,” you whine back to him. His hips stutter at the tone and you feel his lips pull up around gritting teeth, an airy “fuck” sneaking past them.

“You are, sweetness, you are sooooo good for me,” Mihawk praises, swirling his thumb more insistently across your slick clit. The increase and pressure and perfect timing with his firm thrusts has your core tightening in threat of bursting. Your thighs had already been shaking in warning of your coming orgasm, but now the trembling is seating itself in every clench of your walls around Mihawk’s thick cock, wringing tighter and longer on each pulse. Your nerves sparkle and buzz more with each clamp down, the blazing rub of his throbbing dick and its bulging veins whiting out your mind. “Now come on, love -nngh- cum on my cock -fuuck please- let me feel you, make me cum -nnnghah- need to fuck you full.”

With a sob of his name, you finally fall over the edge. It feels as overwhelming as you had been expecting since he first stormed in and threw you over the desk. Your hands and cunt cling to him in need of a tether and in need of more; while your body is trembling with the bliss of your orgasm a tiny piece in the back of your mind is waiting for the final thing that will melt your whole body into a honey drip of heaven.

Mihawk doesn’t leave you waiting long; he is only able to feel your pussy milk him a handful of times before he can hold his end off no longer. With slurring groans of endearments and praises, he is overtaken by pleasure and can think of nothing beyond the relief of pumping you full of his cum with his twitching cock and grinding hips. The force of it has his thighs quake and numb out, making his weight crumble over you as he can no longer hold himself up. He nuzzles his face down the side of yours until he’s tucked panting against your neck, forehead pressed snuggly against your racing pulse.

You welcome his weight with open arms, one dragging him ever tighter to your heaving chest and the other winding its hand into his thick dark hair to ensure he never leaves. Both of you are still gasping for breath, your pressed chests rubbing and shaking against each other much like your greedy hips do as they ring out the endless pulsing beats of your orgasms. Your cunt and core continue to massage down on him and wring every bit of tight and bubbling bliss from his still hard and pumping cock that they can get. 

The feeling of being not only filled with his large and achingly hard cock but also the swelling heat of his cum makes your eyes roll back. He’s filled you full to bursting, now leaking out of you on every grind and the warm sticky sensation and sound matched with his pelvis massaging small sweeps across your clit prolongs your peak. You get to spend a long time suspended in the feeling of your body bursting with heat and joy and relief and electricity, all shoving your soul right out of your skin only for Mihawk’s presence to trap you right back into the storm raging in your nerves.

Mihawk begins to feel foggy and a bit delirious as he finally releases his pent up need in you, finally sates his ferocious hunger for your delicious touch, finally finds his comfort and peace stuck as close to you as he can possibly get. He makes a halfhearted attempt to bring his mind back to his body but is happily distracted by the aftershocks that jolt your body and flutter your cunt. They pull extra little spurts and groans from him each time and he’s defenseless to the contentment he feels following their slowing pace into the warm hover of affection that always envelops him after sharing bodies with you.

It takes a long time for either of you to actually come back to yourselves. The whole time you are afloat, you guide each other with trailing touches from limp but loving hands, quick kisses stolen between smoothing out your breath, and gentle squeezes in the embrace you keep on each other, needing those little moments where it's even more of a hug than a hold. Mihawk chases the touches that tease across the dips of his lower back or scratch up the back of his neck and across his scalp just a little bit more than the others. You feel too boneless to lean into almost any touch at the moment, but you do manage to roll your head to the side so you can gaze at your grandfather clock in the corner.

“I don’t think there’s time to make you presentable for them,” you sigh out with no real remorse. Mihawk is of a similar mind.

“Not my fault if those two don’t have anyone to take care of their needs,” Mihawk mumbles dryly. “Also not my problem if they’re mad I’ve had mine met.”

The laugh you give at his attitude earns you one of your favorite prizes: Mihawk’s lips making the slow curl then spread into a real smile. It is only topped when they close again to press a kiss in the shape of that smile on their resting place against your skin with enough love to reach straight through that skin and nurture every beat of your heart.

[amourane]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST *CHEF’S KISS*

You deserve all the notes ⭐️ would it be ok to request a post hogwarts with theo? Angst to fluff if that’s alright?

TIA if you decide to do it!!

—🍄

calm after the storm

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

genre: angst to fluff, post hogwarts au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: theo has a hard time dealing with his emotions and you were always there for him but what if one day it becomes all too much.

warnings: it's going to hurt <3

a/n: 🍄 thank you so so much for this request because i read it when u sent it and i remembered it in my exam and i managed to write this banger (i dont know if its word for word but i tried to write as much as i could remember) i just added the fluff at the end. BUT THIS IS FOR YOU <33333

Rain.

It was the first thing that hit Theo’s face when he stormed out of the door. Thick and heavy droplets that fell from the sky, marking his perfect face. They streaked down his cheeks parting into different directions like rivers. The cold sensation enveloped him as he listened to the pitter patter that flooded his ears.

He was angry. He was frustrated. He was livid. The ugly emotion bubbled within him, threatening to burst. It twisted and toiled, shrieked and screamed. It was like a monster, feeding on his anger, waiting to pounce at any second. 

The fight wasn’t meant to escalate this badly. Insults were thrown and meaningless threats were made as the both of you shouted at each other.

The argument could have been solved. The solution simply lay right in front of Theo but he had refused to see it. He had refused to accept he was wrong. You hadn’t asked for much, hadn’t asked anything unreasonable yet he had lashed out. He chose to ignore what lay in front of him and blame you instead. 

“I should have never accepted your pathetic excuse for a confession.”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could’ve stopped them. Harsh cutting words that dug into you and twisted with malice. He saw the way his words clawed at the seams of your heart, ripping it to shreds. He watched as your face fell and broke. The once bright smile he always saw was replaced with a heart wrenching stare.

It was all too much. So he ran.

Bitterness swallowed him whole as he thought back to the moment. Festering anger turned into anguish. You had always been so full of joy. Ever since he had met you all those years ago when he watched as you got sorted and skipped to your table with glee. You were so beautiful, so kind, so pure. Your eyes would always look at him with so much adoration and love. Theo loved you more than he could imagine. 

Then the fight would resurface. It overtook his honeyed memories of you like an infectious plague, tainting the sweet thoughts. They replaced your beautiful smile with a heartbroken expression. Your eyes, that he was so used to seeing filled with love, looked at him with incredulous horror. The sight haunted him.

Rain brought Theo back to the present. The thunderous clap resounded through his ears. At first, he had wanted to run far away but he only found himself able to walk so far before his feet refused to move. He stayed stuck to the ground as he felt the rain wash over him. Theo didn’t care what others thought, didn’t care if the passersby looked at him oddly.

All he cared about was you.

Theo didn’t know how long he stayed outside letting the water rush over his body. He simply stood. Time seemed to pass slowly as he tried to remind himself of your laughter and smiles. He forced himself to forget about what had happened but he couldn’t. The memories were constant, a never ending cycle that would taunt him. 

The rain slowed and eventually stopped. The dull grey clouds cleared to reveal the peaceful sky as if nothing had happened. 

Even though the sun beamed down on Theo he still felt the endless rivers that ran down his cheeks. He still felt the streaks of water as they rolled down his face. The tears didn’t stop as he stood there.

The streets were still damp, the scent of rain hanging in the air. Theo felt a gentle touch on his arm and he flinched, spinning around to meet your worried gaze. Your voice, soft and full of concern, broke through the haze. 

“Theo, you’re soaked. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. The moment his gaze met yours, the dam broke. Sobs racked his body, and he fell into your arms, clutching you as if you were his lifeline.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so angry, and I took it out on you. I was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

You held him tighter, your touch soothing him. He continued to cry, unable to stop the tears as they continued to fall. The guilt ate him up inside, gnawed at his conscience, continuously banging on the iron bars that he kept his heart behind.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You whispered, stroking his wet hair. “It’s okay, Theo. We’ll get through this.”

Your words broke him even more. You were so kind. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your kindness. You had always been the understanding one, the one to resolve fights, the one who would reach out and tell him it’ll be okay. Theo knew he had a problem with his emotions, he knew that he had a hard time expressing how he felt. You knew it too. He would always be grateful for the way that you still stuck by him despite everything. 

“I hurt you. I said such horrible things. How can you even look at me?” He whispered against you, his voice cracking. His throat was dry and hoarse from the crying and he pulled away to look at you. His vision was blurry but he could still make out your beautiful features.

You cupped his face in your hands, wiping away the tears with your thumbs. “Because I love you, Theo. We’ve had our fights, but this…this is something we can fix. We just need to talk and understand each other.”

Theo could only watch as you smiled despite the fact tears were spilling from your eyes too. He felt the emotions whirl in his mind.

“I love you so much Y/n. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m such a bad boyfriend. I’m so sorry. I never meant any of it. I love you so much, so so much.” He hugged your body tight, trying to grasp onto the warmth you always provided him with. “Can we - can we start over?”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Yes, Theo. We can start over. But first, let’s get you out of these wet clothes and somewhere warm.”

The two of you walked back to your apartment, your hand holding his as you led him inside. No words were said as you helped him dry off, grabbing new clothes so he didn’t fall sick from the rain. Each touch that you left filled his cold body with warmth. He pulled you towards him, embracing you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your hair. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

You held him tighter, making sure that he knew that you would always be there for him, making sure that he felt all of your love and comfort.

“I would never give up on you.” You breathed out a sigh as your hands massaged his back. “We’ll get through this, just like how we got through everything else.”

The two of you stayed in silence, letting the day pass by. No words needed to be exchanged as the both of you enjoyed the comfort of each other's love. Theo knew he had issues. He knew he had problems. Yet as long as you stayed by him he knew that life wouldn’t be so bad.

[philistiniphagottini]

Couldn't sleep last night so I wrote a little something for Jiyan until I felt tired. This is very self indulgent on my part.

cw. fluff, mentioned nudity (but no smut) dragon hybrid reader (similar to vidyadhara) , mentions of heat cycles, cuddling, gender neutral reader

It was the middle of the night when you abruptly stirred awake. Your body was drenched in a hot flush as your eyes shot open, your body jerking as you quickly sat up. Layers of fluffy blankets pooled around your waist, the thin, silk robe you wore lazily clinging around your shoulders as the sash was poised to unravel at a moment's notice. Beads of sweat dotted your brow as you took a deep breath, heat coiling in the pit of your stomach as your blood simmered in your veins. Your eyes pinched shut for a few brief seconds, long lashes fluttering over your burning cheeks as a soft groan breezed past the seam of your lips. Of course, it had to happen now, you lowly cursed. 

Your sudden movements had disturbed your partner, Jiyan, his body moving to mimic yours as he sat up in bed. His eyes roved over your form, darkness bleeding into the corners of his vision as he carefully studied you. 

"Are you alright, love?" he asked, voice gruff and thick with sleep. 

Your head snapped in his direction; pupils narrowed into thin slits as you regarded him. Your long, serpentine tail coiled beneath the sheets, the tip flicking as golden scales brushed against his bare leg. His muscles tensed from the featherlight touch, your normally cool scales suddenly burning like the hot coals of a forge. The branching horns nestled on top of your head faintly glowed with a shimmering, golden light, the ethereal light highlighting your flustered expression as your lips parted around rapid pants. Each puff of air seemed to curl around your lips like wisps of steam, your eyes growing lidded as your head started to feel dizzy. The words that Jiyan had spoken barely even registered in your mind, your head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton as your flesh continued to burn with a lingering heat that tickled the base of your spine. You shook your head, soft locks of your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you swallowed the budding saliva on your tongue. 

"It's too hot" you murmured in a breathy whisper.

Sharp talons sank into your robes, your fingers curling into the thin material as you yanked it from your being. You tossed it aside in a flurry of cloth, the sweat soaked robe tossed to some random corner of the room. You were left completely bare, nothing to hide you from the general’s concerned gaze as a sigh of relief tumbled from your bruised lips. The relief was only temporary as the heat continued to claw at your nerves, trickling into your belly as the constant itch of your nerves started to make you squirm in discomfort. Jiyan silently shuffled closer to your side, arms poised and ready to assist as he kept his eyes trained on you. 

"Are you alright?" he asked again. 

Your soft pants filled the air of your stuffy bedroom and when you didn't respond immediately, he pressed again. 

"Love, speak to me."

His voice was finally able to reach you as you turned your head towards him, slowly lifting your gaze to meet his. 

"Jiyan."

His name warmed your parched throat like cloying honey, each syllable sweeter than the next as it danced on your tongue. Jiyan was ready when he saw the way your shoulders tensed, your tail coiling like a snake ready to strike as you pounced on him. A soft grunt blew past his lips as you landed in his lap, your knees falling beside his hips as you landed perfectly on top of him. You buried your burning face in his chest, arms latching to his waist as your golden tail weaved between his thighs and curled around his ankles. You pressed your weight into him, coaxing him to lean back further as he was suffocated under the stifling heat of your body. His movements were slow and deliberate, hesitant and frightened that he would scare you in such a sensitive state. He knew what was wrong. He had figured it out the moment you had to rip your clothes off to find any semblance of relief to the heat running rampant around your body. He placed his hand on top of your head, gently ruffling the soft locks of hair as he gazed down at you. 

"Are you finally going into heat?"

You gently nodded your head, bunting your face further into the hard planes of his muscular chest, a content noise in your throat as you squished your cheek into a pectoral muscle. Your tail continued to coil around the length of his leg as you rubbed your body against his, lazily spreading your scent until it bled into his skin. His scent curled in your lungs with each breath you took and you could taste him in the back of your throat every time you swallowed. His familiar scent was reassuring and it was able to ease the heat in your belly for now as you cling to him like he was a life line. 

"I'm sorry" you whispered, your warm breath puffing against his skin. "I just want you close."

A soft hum rumbled in Jiyan’s chest as he rubbed the calloused tips of his fingers against your scalp. You purred happily in response, the vibrations dancing along his skin as you pressed yourself further into his embrace. A soft smile tilted his lips as he gazed at you fondly, basking in the contrast of your soft curves against his hard muscles. This whole heat cycle was new to him. You had warned him it was coming soon and your draconic instincts had been flaring up for the past several days. It had been interesting to witness your “pre-heat” stages, watching you fret over building the perfect nest, watching you chose only light clothes that wouldn't irritate your skin. Witnessing you stick to his side like glue and refusing to be apart from him for long. Such a strange and wonderful creature you were. 

Jiyan’s arm snaked around your waist as he tugged you closer, your chest still vibrating with soft purrs as he gently ran his fingertips along the curve of your spine. Pleasant tingles rippled down your back as the soft tufts of fur on your tail puffed up, the feathered tip of your tail tickling his foot as you rested more and more of your weight against him. 

"It's okay" Jiyan reassured. "I'm not going anywhere."

You both fell into a comfortable silence as the heat inside of you turned into a dull but manageable throb. Your nose brushed against the hollow of Jiyan’s throat as your hands snuck under the soft material of his shirt, your hands resting against his abdomen as you kneaded the skin with your paws like a contented cat. Jiyan couldn't contain the small chuckle that rumbled in his chest at the sight. His lips brushed against your damp forehead, fingers brushing long wisps of hair out of your eyes as he tucked them behind your ears. 

"Is this okay?" he asked. "Do you need more?"

His words warmed your heart, your pulse drumming rhythmically in your ears as your pointed ears perked up at the sound of his soothing voice. You slowly shook your head, peering up at him with dazed eyes. "No. This is enough."

For now, you still had most of your senses intact. You knew that would change in only a few, short hours and your instincts would reduce this proud dragon into nothing more than a mindless beast that would only crave until its hunger was sated. But for now, that beast was contained and being wrapped in Jiyan’s embrace like this helped to calm your frantic senses. For the first time in a long time, you wouldn't have to endure another heat cycle alone. No more yearning and aching nor longing for the touch of a partner you didn't have. He was here now by your side and it was enough.

[rottiens]

✮ tags. . a lot of sexual tension, suggestive, touch starved Wriothesley, gn reader. divider creds: cafekitsune.

"I don't have an attitude, what the hell are you talking about?" Wriothesley, clearly with an attitude, barks as he points at you with the index finger of his left hand, his right at his waist as if trying to make a point with body language.

His nose is wrinkled, threatening to growl at any moment just like a cornered animal. Seeing him so defensive makes you scoff letting out a small chuckle, still gazing at him.

You take a step forward invading your boss's personal space, the elevator shakes with the weight of both of you and you have to control your body so as not to pounce on him in search of stability.

You mimic his previous position, one hand on your hip, another raised in front of you both, your index finger pushing against the hardness of his chest.

"You. fucking. do." You pause between each word. "And you need to stop doing that with me, you know I'm doing a good job." You were, Wriothesley is just being a dick lately and that attitude is getting under your skin. You don't understand what his problem is now. "You don't have to be breathing down my neck all the time."

"Don't touch me." He grabs your wrist and quickly pulls it down to an area impossible for your field of vision to see, he doesn't let go right away which is strange to you, his gloved hand slides over your skin, in a strange mix of softness and hardness.

You check his face, the marks, the small wrinkles at the corner of his lips made by the time of so much pursing, barely visible wrinkle marks on his forehead, once more ….. From so much puckering and you realize that beyond being your boss, Wriothesley is an attractive man and it's just that the barrier you've built up to ignore that fact though more than that he's a tired man, an exhausted man and you can see it perfectly now.

Wriothesley smells like he's walked all over The Fort, yet it's not unpleasant at all. Underneath the slight smell of sweat is the scent of his manly soap and shampoo that blends into a peculiar fragrance with the sweat. You take a deep breath to control your emotions, you don't want to start a fight and you definitely don't want to give space to that new emotion blossoming inside you, on the contrary, you need to drown it with a bad attitude and get away from him as fast as you can.

"Can you let go of me now?" at the mention of his grip Wriothesley looks down to verify that he is certainly still holding you prisoner close to him. It's just that before he can respond or let go of your hand, the elevator moves abruptly announcing the arrival at the top floor which causes you to end up losing your stability and tumbling towards Wriothesley who grabs you firmly by the waist to keep you from falling at his feet.

His fingers cling to your body inevitably calling you more to him and only inches from his face, with his minty herbal breath brushing against your nose you realize what the problem is.

"You're pent up." You affirm and exhale, your breath brushing against his mouth. Wriothesley doesn't bother to affirm or deny it, the same impassive reaction remains on his face, then you add with a slight shake of your head. "How long since you fucked?" It's like a jab, perhaps too direct and bordering on the intimate for the kind of relationship you two have.

Wriothesley could fire you if he wanted to at that moment, you expect him to push your body off him but that never happens, instead you feel his hand slide down your waist and hug you closer to him. His erection blatantly rubs against you back and forth, his hips barely moving in a rhythm with no specific pattern, answering your question.

You exchange glances with his eyes and lips, the tip of his tongue brushes his upper lip and your own mouth feels dry, you find yourself thinking how much you would love to suck on his tongue, so pink, so thick. You find yourself getting hot imagining how it would feel in the middle of your thighs.

Suddenly the elevator doors open and the hot steam and bustle of the Fort squeezes between the unbearable silence and the heat that was created between the two of you.

"Come to my office for tea, my treat."

[thegnomelord]

you have me thinking about pregnant sex with gaz 🥵🫶🏼

Fuuuck dude your Kirby looking ass is unlocking kinks I didn't even know I had

CW:NSFW, MDNI FTM Gaz/domtop Mreader, pregnant sex, quick and rough.

Gaz loves you with all his heart. You're the love of his life, his lighthouse and his anchor, the father of the children growing inside him (yes, children, a healthy pair of twins Gaz feels is the universe's apology for him not getting pregnant the first time)

But by god he's ready to kill you in a hundred different ways.

Ever since his bump started to show you've been treating him like he's made of glass. Which, in of itself, isn't a bad thing — he loves it when you spoil him like he's your king, preening under every praise and leaning into your soft touches, the soft and loving kisses he rewards you with enough for you to continue to feed his gluttonous need for you as you roll your hips to push your cock into him in long even strokes, spooning him from behind so your hands can rub and caress his growing stomach, making love to him like you have all the time in the world.

But he's so god damn horny! There's always a lick of heat burning under his skin and the slow and careful way you fuck him just doesn't scratch his itch. He talks to you about it, but you're still hesitant to be rough with him, especially as he enters his second trimester and his stomach continues to grow to the point he doesn't fit into his pants anymore and Price forces him to desk duty.

It's the lack of action that wears down his quickly dwindling patience. He tries to distract himself with exercise but that's hard to do when there's two tiny humans using his organs as punching bags and making him go to the bathroom every 5 minutes.

So he nearly pounces on you when you return to your shared room in the evening, but you're faster than him, unknowingly calming his nerves with your warm embrace and kisses. "Hello papa." You hum into his neck, your hands naturally falling to massage his bump. "Did you lot miss me?" And that loving look you give him reignites his need.

"Do you even have to ask?" Gaz growls and pulls you down by the collar into a demanding kiss. Using your distraction he pushes you until you tumble down onto the bed, quickly taking his position in your lap. "You-" Kyle grins down at you wolfishly, his hands on your shoulders keeping you laying down, "- are going to let me do this an' anything you say will be used against you."

"Sir," You say, breathless, your eyes just as dark and dilated as his, "I just got really hard."

"Good man." Gaz purrs and kisses you. It doesn't take much to get you two out of your clothes, your sweat slick skins rubbing together as he rides you. The position is a little awkward as he uses your bent knees to balance himself, his stomach pressing against your abdomen as he rides you. He's huffing and puffing like a racehorse, already losing steam even as his cunt flutters around your cock.

"Come on daddy," He moans and rocks his hips, "Put another one in me," He urges you on, and you don't know what comes over you but you grip his hips firmly and thrust up the next time he lowers himself onto your cock, forcing the most beautiful sounds out of his throat.

"Oh- fuck, yes, yes, yes!" He groans, gripping your knees in a white knuckled grip as he bounces on your cock. He looks so handsome like this, eyes closed and mouth open to moan freely as his belly gently bounces with your thrusts. You can't keep your hands off it, something about seeing him heavy with your young has you harder than you've ever been.

Your kiss is just as desperate as his had been when you finally push him into an orgasm, the clenching of his hole pulling you down into your own orgasm. "God, that was so good lovie." He whispers against your lips, his eyes going wide when you don't stop and buck your hips into him again.

"Said you wanted me to put another one in you." Is all you say as you roll your hips, your cock somehow still hard. His cunt flutters around you, wet and sloppy with his slick and your cum mixing between you two.

You really are the love of his life.

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[formulawolff]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. setting it straight ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: idek tbh

warnings: age gap relationship, oral (f! receiving… toto is a munch confirmed) cursing, allusions to sex in public, toto being sexy, slight dom vibes (from toto), poorly translated german, probably some poor grammar, yadayadayada

a/n: i’m absolutely fried rn & it was missing toto and golden girl hours. i don’t apologize for this and will not be apologizing for how absolutely filthy it is!

his tongue drags.

it’s flattened against your soaked folds, carefully taking in the way your juices seep on to his tongue.

“t-toto,” the way his name falls from your lips is utterly sinful.

it’s a pant, a mere mewl brimmed with nothing but pleasure.

“what is it?” he’s nearly out of breath, intoxicated off your taste, “what is it, my love?”

“w-we shouldn’t,” your hips writhe, squirming as his hands envelop your thighs, tightening as the last few words tumble out, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“oh?” he cocks his head, “should i stop then?”

you’re teetering on the edge of cumming, just on the brink.

though, you don’t have to tell him that.

he’s well aware.

he can sense your ragged breathing, the way your chest heaves. how your battered clit throbs, swollen and engorged from his teasing tongue. your skin is nearly burning as the pads of his thumbs caress your inner thighs.

“please don’t stop.”

“are you sure?”

his mocha depths are almost a shade darker than usual, nearly an obsidian hue. they’re fiery with lust as he takes you in once again, absolutely soaked and aching.

aching for release.

he hums, prompting you to answer, “can i continue or are we done here?”

“you can’t just leave me like this,” you protest, shaking your head furiously, “please, toto. i need it.”

“and what do you need?” your jaw tightens as you notice the smug smirk, “tell me, baby. what do you need?”

“i need you to make me cum.”

“that’s all i needed to hear,” he clicks his tongue, obviously please with your answer.

there was really no explaining how you got to be in this position.

well, maybe there was.

it was a rough race weekend in spa.

with the disqualification, daniel’s little stunt, and your fourth place finish, it wasn’t really quite the weekend you had in mind.

you were over the moon for george of course. well, until the disqualification. that put toto in a pretty sour mood. not to mention the plethora of reporters and media following him around after that news broke. that really almost sent him over the edge.

and you didn’t want to him started on daniel’s little stunt either.

just before qualifying, you were in the garage with alex, recording a bit for your upcoming podcast episode. before you knew it, daniel was strolling in, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, proclaiming how much he missed you and how he wanted to rekindle your friendship.

the entire thing caught you completely off guard, your mind reeling as daniel shot you a wink, waving goodbye as he exited the paddock. it only lasted about three minutes, yet felt like an eternity.

and the worst part about it?

a fan recorded daniel as he left the garage, promptly posting it to their tik tok page. that tik tok was then plastered all over instagram and x, sparking all sorts of rumors.

rumors that you were possibly cheating on the team principal with daniel.

the incident left you speechless, unable to string together an incoherent thought, let alone focus on qualifying. you ended up placing eighth, one of the lower finishes you have had in quite some time. it left james questioning your ability to make a podium, not to mention the thousands of posts bashing you, undermining your skills and credibility as a driver.

although toto could see right through daniel, you could tell it had pissed him off.

more than he would have liked to admit.

so the moment you were alone, you found him in your driver’s room, locking the door, practically pouncing on you.

he wouldn’t say it, but you knew what he was doing.

he was setting the record straight.

reminding you that you were his.

and only his.

the only way he knew how.

“you’re mine, you know that?”

you blink, registering that he’s still positioned between your thighs, on his knees, hovering at the edge of the couch.

“is this about daniel?”

“natürlich ist es das,” his tongue darts out, circling around your clit, “ich musste dich daran erinnern, wem du gehörst.”

“hör auf damit,” you tsk, rolling your eyes, “you have nothing to worry about.”

“i know,” his lashes flutter as he murmurs, his gaze fixated on your drenched core. he lifts a finger, the digit tracing along your folds, “it’s not you i’m worried about. it’s him.”

“aber du bist der mann, den ich liebe.”

his heart skips a beat, the team principal’s lust dissipating for just a moment. he couldn’t help but melt at the softness in your voice, at the sureness in those words.

fuck, did he love you.

oh so much.

propelling himself upward, a hand connects with your cheek, thumb trailing along your cheekbone, “i love you, my sweet girl.”

“i love you more, toto.”

shaking his head, the team principal can’t help but grin, dimples forming as he notices your beautiful smile take shape.

“and i love you most.”

[accioscarheadthings]

I don’t know if I request this but please a Kenji Sato x fem reader? The reader is doing the tyla dance in front of kenji and his reaction is priceless. https://youtube.com/shorts/PWqx7t2rF6A?si=zMeFzuJpH1Ka0IMO

OHH MY GOD. YES. simply brilliant, anon.

i love this idea and i love you<33

masterlist !

you set the timer on your phone and placed it on top of the tv table, ensuring it was in the perfect position to capture your tiktok dance. taking a few steps back, you found yourself positioned perfectly in the center of the frame,

kenji was lounging on the couch, sitting cross-legged with a bag of popcorn perched on his lap.

he was engrossed in the process of stuffing his face with the salty snack, his fingers delving into the bag again and again to grab another handful of kernels.

kenji knew that when you positioned yourself with your back towards him, it was a cue that you were about to perform another tiktok dance.

however, he had no way of knowing what specific dance routine you had in mind this time.

he blinked at your back cluelessly, eyes darting from you to your phone, and back to you.

the music began and you performed the steps of the 'tyla dance challenge' arching your back graciously, your hair flipping to the side as the beat dropped.

you circled your hips, moving in precision and flawlessly. the crop top you were wearing flaunted your curves.

you raised your hands at your sides and kicked up your feet, turning around and rolling your hips in an alluring manner.

kenji froze, his mouth still open in the process of shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth, as his eyes caught sight of your ass.

as the popcorn bag slipped from his grip and spilled all over his lap, kenji's mind was filled with nothing but the sight of your ass.

every other thought faded away as his attention completely fixated on your curves, leaving him momentarily stunned and forgetful of the popcorn that had just been in his mouth, now tumbling onto his lap and littering his sweatpants.

but without a moment's thought, kenji pounced, darting into the scene like a hungry bird of prey. with a swift and playful move, he swept you up into his arms, causing a shriek of laughter to escape your lips.

his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as he spun you around in a playful embrace. one of his palms crept down to give your ass an possessive squeeze, "mine,"

"kenji!!"

kenji hiked your leg up the side of his body smooching your cheek, his teeth gently nipping at your cheek affectionately. the feeling of his sharp canines grazing against your skin pulled an excited giggle from you.

[enhypencores]

Bleed Me Dry

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 7K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandre, manipulation, mentions of self exit, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

Heeseung watched you, mentally tracing the curve of your bottom lip as you awaited the bus, your nose scrunching in disgust at the passing smokers. The fullness of your cheeks flushed red as the scorching heat streamed through your hand’s barrier, and the silky strands of brown hair cascaded down your neck as you climbed up the bus. Your forehead wrinkled as you leaned down to scan your card, and your nimble steps took you to the end row. Sweat drops trickled down the bony line of your collarbone, dipping into your white collar, dampening the fabric as your eyes rolled back and your head fell slack against the teetering glass window.

This was his sign.

He strutted through the door and beelined towards the back. He was so close to settling down, just another step, and he'd be enveloped in your presence when all his plans fell through the window. He halted, his eyes widening in disbelief as a boy settled beside you, unaware of the fury he had just unleashed within Heeseung's blood. Heeseung swallowed the colourful words itching up his throat and forced himself into the seat behind, away from you.

He stared at the gap between your shoulders, bitterness pooling in his chest. Each time the boy's arm brushed against yours, Heeseung's restraint wavered, his nails digging into his palm as he envisioned tearing the boy's joint off for daring to feel you. His temper flared when he spotted your oblivious frame, still, sound asleep like a princess in the comfort of her sheets. You were so perplexingly naive, falling asleep in a bus full of men waiting to pounce on meek girls like yourself. It usually took around forty-five minutes for you to reach home, but you could've at least placed your bag on the vacant seat so no one—except him—would take the spot beside you.

Heeseung trained his gaze on his wristwatch, every tick of the short hand's movement making him lose his mind. He could've been the one pressed against your shoulders, bathing in your essence, had that loser found another spot. Fortunately, he didn't have to dwell in misery for long because at the very next stop, the loser grabbed his bag from the floor, preparing to leave. Heeseung analysed his watch.

Ten minutes. Gone.

Ten minutes he could've spent right beside you.

The boy stood alert, pressing the button, and the bus came to a standstill. As he stepped through the aisle, his foot landed against a round object, throwing him off balance and sending him tumbling to the ground with his jawline scraping against the hard floor. The entire bus gasped in unison as the boy sat up, his frantic gaze searching for the perpetrator.

A round basketball swirled by his feet.

"Shit, that slipped. My bad," Heeseung muttered, standing from his seat and holding out his hand with an apologetic smile, which the unsuspecting boy accepted with an embarrassed grin.

Heeseung watched the boy rub at his injured chin, confused at the ball's magical appearance as he tugged on his bag's strap and stammered out of the bus with an obvious limp.

Hopefully, that injury lasted ten days to account for the ten precious minutes of Heeseung's life.

Immediately, Heeseung turned back, glancing at your limp frame. His heart raced at the sight. He took small, calculated steps before gently lowering himself into the seat beside you. At the first brush of your elbow, Heeseung's body grew warm, heart drumming faster within his chest. He itched to press his entire body against yours. For now, however, he slightly edged closer, letting your clothed shoulder graze his arm, his eyes rolling shut at the subtle contact.

For the past month, he was a silent observer, watching you walk from your university to the bus, bus to your house in a disciplined schedule. It became part of his very routine. He would wait around your campus at 3:00 sharp to follow you onto the bus and spend the next blissful forty-five minutes watching you sleep away. Heeseung would climb off at your stop, ensuring you crossed the road safely. Only when your back disappeared into the villa and yellow lights at the right-end corner flickered to life would Heeseung return to get a bus back.

He was watching over you to keep you safe. The world lurked with dangers, and you were so innocent, so beautiful, so mesmerizing, so agonizingly weak like a frail flower in a garden full of cacti. He had no option but to take on the role of a silent guardian, protecting you from the world. He told himself he valued your safety. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. He needed to be near you, to feel your presence, to submerge within your life and become a part woven for your pleasure.

Usually, he stayed a safe distance away to admire your presence. A week ago, he stared at the empty seat with longing. Like an addiction, his tolerance had grown. Seeing you from afar wasn't enough. He wanted to feel your presence. His body automatically followed his yearning, getting up and climbing into the seat beside yours.

And since then, he couldn't get enough.

All of a sudden, Heeseung's focus wavered as the bus came to an abrupt halt. He impulsively brought his arm around your frame, viciously eyeing the driver for his rash turn. As he felt something drop against his shoulder, Heeseung froze. He gulped carefully, turning to inspect you.

His insides twisted in joy. The sight of your sleeping frame leaning against him with your head on his shoulder was enough to make him forget his annoyance at the bus driver. Heeseung shifted closer to let your head rest in the crevice of his neck.

His breath hitched at the contact; your face pressed firmly into his bare neck. Flesh on flesh. His hand clenched into a strained fist, nails digging into his palm, leaving indents as your warm breath nuzzled down his collarbone and spread to his chest. He looked down at your unresponsive frame and realised he had never seen you so up close.

With the closer angle, he noticed washed-out freckles like sand dust trailing down your nose. Your eyelashes were curled black, resting low on your cheeks angelically. Your mouth was cutely pressed into a light pout against his top, your nose squished into his collarbones, making his hairs rise.

Heeseung urged himself to calm down. If you heard the frantic pacing of his heart, you'd wake up before he had the chance to revel in your skin's warmth. He breathed in the scent of fresh vanilla, something inside his abdomen stirring as he realised how you might leave him smelling like yourself, like a protective feline, marking their territory. Heeseung smiled, his body automatically turning towards you, eyes shining in anticipation.

Your body craved him just as badly as he craved you.

Thirty-five minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. He didn't even register the familiar streets treading along the window, his sight and mind filled with images of your pretty face when suddenly your phone beeped, jerking you awake. Heeseung swore under his breath, body recoiling in complaint as you pulled away, grabbing the phone in your jeans pocket and shutting off the alarm. He forced himself to look the other way, his breathing unsteady as he restrained the urge to yank you back.

Roused awake, you quickly stood alert, pressing the button, your knees accidentally bumping into the stranger's legs as you proceeded to step out of the aisle. You turned back to look at the masked man. 

He watched, breath-held, heart thudding.

His wide eyes met yours, and you gave him a suppressed smile before walking off.

Goosebumps. His head felt like jelly, mind straining to grasp at the smile you sent his way—a smile meant for him—not the kind one you give the shopkeeper when he hands you your groceries—not the empathetic one you flash to the older citizens slowly climbing the bus—not the patient one you give to the raucous bikers outside the campus—a soft, sweet, and memorable smile. Only for him.

Heeseung was so dazed that he simply forgot to get off at the stop with you. Instead, he sat rigid, attempting to process the burst of emotions within his chest. He looked down and—thank fuck he did because he might’ve missed it if he was preoccupied in following behind. There, on his grey flannel, an inch lower from his collar, was a wet mark that belonged to you. Not only did you leave him smelling like your vanilla body wash, but you also stained him with your saliva.

His heart thrummed. He pulled his mask down. With his lower region tingling, his hand instinctively grabbed at the collar to pull the wet fabric into his mouth. Head dropping back, his vision blurred, his body tightening at the first taste of your mouth.

He lapped at the spot like a starved man, his legs pressing together to relieve some of the tension in his painfully hard centre. Sweat built up in his clenched fist as he sucked the fabric and rolled his tongue against it, wishing he could feel it directly from your mouth rather than the brittle cotton of his shirt. His desires had climbed up a new ladder; nothing was enough anymore. He needed to lap at the delicate roundness of your lips, suck off your taste from inside, and drown his tongue in its heat.

He needed you, physically, emotionally—unabashed and unhidden.

It was time.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Extracurriculars were starting to take a toll on your mental health. You were already part of the university’s student advisory council and head of the reading club. With exams looming and Miss Sol’s exhaustive dance training sessions, you were certain you would either fail all your exams or get home on a stretcher. For the past week, you had been getting home around sunset, but today, you finished training earlier. Giddily, you jumped onto the bus, excited to get home and munch on ramen before your older brother got his hands on it.

You sat in your usual backseat and immediately fell asleep.

When your alarm blared, you quickly silenced your phone and got up, pressing the button to alert the bus driver. You glanced to your side, expecting to see the masked man who had unknowingly become your bus ride companion, but his seat was vacant. Confused, you glanced around, but only saw aged faces and school students. 

Strange. You assumed he was a college student like yourself, never skipping a day.

You shrugged, climbed off the bus and made your way across the main road toward your house. As you strutted inside the villa, a blinding object flashed past your vision, clashing against your torso and shoving you to the floor. You looked up furiously.

The culprit, your smug brother with his blonde hair falling against his eyes, kneeled down to grab the basketball. “Weren’t you supposed to get home late?” His accusatory tone made you want to scratch the smirk off his mouth.

“Oh, sorry for colliding into your ball.” You smiled sarcastically, standing up. His sardonic smile widened.

“Don’t do it again, little sis,” he grinned, and your patience flew out the window. You jumped up to grab his hair, but as if anticipating your attack, he dodged, sprinting down the hallway with the ball cocooned in his embrace.

“Sim Jaeyun!” You screeched, chasing him through the lounge and out the backdoor toward the inbuilt basketball court. 

You never hated your short height, but in moments like these, you wished you had inherited your father’s long legs. As you watched him speed up beside the basketball court, you frustratedly changed your route, dashing into the square-shaped arena, running diagonally, hoping the Pythagorean theorem would help you reach Jake faster.

With your gaze trained on your target, you saw Jake dribble the ball ahead as you blindly ran down the court, so blind that you didn’t notice a taller figure standing in your way. You collided into a frame, slamming against a hard chest, sending you both tumbling to the ground. You gasped, eyes bulging out as a pair of brown eyes stared at you, wide with panic.

You muttered a rushed apology, attempting to get up when you noticed his arms were locked around your waist protectively.

“Get off Heeseung, you midget!” Jake yelled, nearing your limp frame. You gave him a scorned glare, sitting up as the man’s arms slowly fell away. You stood up together as Jake dribbled his basketball, an amused grin on his features.

Sourly glaring, you didn’t hesitate to whip Jake with your bag. He groaned, almost flinging the basketball at you when the black-haired man pushed ahead immediately, blocking your brother’s aggression.

“She’s a menace. Let me deal with it,” Jake bitterly told the stranger.

“Shut up, Jake! You’re the menace in this household,” you huffed, glaring at him.

Then, your gaze settled back on the brown-eyed man, and your cheeks flushed red as you surveyed the stranger’s features. Ethereal. Big eyes as naïve as a deer’s, a peculiarly sharp nose, plump, wet lips, and dark ebony hair—the man was majestic. Dressed in a grey tank top and trousers, sweat clung to his tan skin, dripping down his well-built biceps like honey. He seemed to have walked straight out of a sports tournament.

“Who’s this?” You blurted out, eyeing the handsome man with flushed cheeks.

“Heeseung, a friend. Heeseung, this is Y/N, unfortunately, related to me.” You smacked your bag into his stomach, pushing him back as he doubled over and clutched his torso, glaring at you through his gold bangs. 

“That’s no way to treat your younger sister, Jake,” Heeseung's stern voice oozed masculine charm—almost giving you whiplash. His reprimanding made your brother’s temper dissolve, and he unclenched his jaw, nodding obediently. You stared, baffled at the sudden shift in his demeanour.

You had never seen your older brother submissively agree with anyone—not even your parents. Having a one-year age gap, the older child's privilege, and spoiled treatment from your parents really did a number on him. His friend group consisted of boys who worked like dogs to gain his acceptance, and your brother bathed in the glory. He wasn’t overtly arrogant, but good grades and amazing basketball performances would make anyone feel like they owned the world. Not to mention, his faked kind personality had everyone running laps. You can’t even count how many hearts he’d broken from middle school to university. 

Watching him listen to Heeseung, you could tell he was someone important to your brother.

You glanced back at the towering man. He even carried himself with an air of indifference, intimidating yet undeniably attractive, commanding everyone’s interest. Under the sunlight, his pupils glowed like lit candles, growing small into a crescent shape as a warm smile grazed his lips, his gaze softening. Tousled strands fell into his dreamy eyes as he nodded. Baffled, you wondered how one second, he seemed like an intimidating adult, reprimanding the kids, and the other moment, he appeared boyish and charming, his eyes brimming with youthful energy. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue like butter, making your insides curl.

The night you met him, you stalked your brother’s account to find that intriguing man. You scoured through hundreds of Jake’s irrelevant followers, desperately searching for an account starting with the letter H. To your disappointment, no such account existed.

You wondered if Heeseung was old school and went down a rabbit hole, searching through the depths of Facebook. Lee Heeseung—his name in itself was traditional and old, so you didn’t even come across any likely accounts. You gave up and tried asking Jake; however, your brother rarely answered any of your questions. You had no choice but to wait for another encounter. 

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Like a surprising miracle, the next encounter came earlier than expected. A week later, you were buried in exam questions, struggling to absorb the entire pharmacology textbook, when the doorbell rang. You tried to ignore it, but after several insistent rings, you begrudgingly stomped to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone; your parents were at a dinner party, and Jake was at a cram class. You mentally prepared yourself to scream at the neighbour’s kids who frequently stood outside your door to mess around. 

You flung the door open, ready to unleash your frustrations, when your jaw dropped. The familiar round eyes met yours, kickstarting a joyous flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Heeseung stood as handsome as the first day, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He carried a bunch of hefty books, his gaze searching behind you.

“Y/N,” he called your name, and your ears reddened. He enunciated each syllable as if he knew you for ages, called you it for ages.

“Jaeyun left some astrophysics books at my place.” He peered at the stack in his hold.

You smiled apologetically because, of course, your forgetful brother did. 

“He’s out right now,” you told him. “But that’s alright, I’ll take these.” His smile softened as he held out the books. You stepped closer, circling your arm around the stack, but your weak arms failed to carry the weight, embarrassingly almost dropping them to the floor. 

Heeseung quickly tightened his hold on the books, pulling back with a teasing smile. “I’ll take them in,” he stated. Before you could reject his kindness, he stepped inside, pausing in the hallway.

You led him to the lounge, where he kept the books on the wooden table. You offered him a smile as your heart beat frantically. Watching him stand close in your vicinity when you were home alone felt like all your prayers had been answered.

He turned to look at you, pulling back the strands that had fallen against his vision. A smile stretched his lips. “You were studying?” He asked, his voice low yet echoing in the empty hall. Your lips parted, eyes wide in shock.

“How’d you know?” You questioned incredulously.

His smile morphed into a grin. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently pulled the pencil from your hair. The hair bun unravelled, brown strands running down your neck, grazing his fingertips as something flickered in his gaze. He watched the soft layers frame your face. You giggled, face warming up. You tried to grab the pencil, but Heeseung pulled it away, smirking at your embarrassment.

“Let me guess, pharmacology is kicking your ass?” He scoffed, and you gasped in retaliation.

“Now, how do you know my degree?” You stared in confusion.

He chuckled. “Your brother says it’s your worst decision.”

Fucking Sim Jaeyun. Always ruining your reputation everywhere with his big ass mouth.

You sighed, rolling your eyes in frustration. You somewhat disliked your crush knowing about your crisis with that god-awful degree.

“I’m doing fine,” you bitterly claimed. “I ace Biochem and almost every other module. Anatomy is just from the depths of hell,” you spewed some irrelevant achievements, immediately cringing at how self-indulgent you sounded.

God, you were pathetic. You wondered if Heeseung saw through your façade.

Heeseung shifted his weight onto his right leg. “I can help,” he offered, a flamboyant grin flashing across his features as he nodded at your shocked expression. “I ace Anatomy all the time,” he mocked your tone, lips twisting in a teasing smile.

You huffed. Guys usually scored seventy per cent and flaunted it like they won a Nobel prize. “What’s your highest test score?” Your overconfident-self asked, folding your arms over your chest with an egoistic smile.

He watched silently for a moment before returning that sharp smile.

“3.9.”

Pfft. You rolled your eyes, grabbing at your hair in frustration. Was Heeseung as annoying as Jake? “Real funny,” you scoffed, wishing you could erase the smugness off his handsome face.

“3.9 GPA in premed.”

Oh.

Your overconfidence deflated like a balloon. Heeseung smirked and stepped closer, arms folded over his lean chest, mocking your demeanour.

“So?”

You nervously gulped, stepping back from his overwhelming presence. This tall, gorgeous man had casually revealed his Einstein-level intelligence, and now, you felt utterly stupid, crying over some basic anatomy. Even Jake struggled to maintain a decent 3.5.

Your eyes widened as you registered the situation again. Heeseung was offering his help. Even if he thought you were stupid, you could change that, prove him wrong and possibly gather more information about him through a tutoring session, for example, unearth his socials. You could probably get closer and know more.

With your decision made, you nodded at him.

“Alright.”

Heeseung felt like he’d plummet to the floor in relief. He watched the curiosity in your doe eyes gleam as you determinedly stepped towards the hallway, walking up the stairs. He took the first step, his knees trembling as he watched you peppily jump to the right-end door. You were showing him the way to your bedroom.

Your bedroom.

Heeseung’s body fired up like an overheated kettle, his muscles tensing against the railing. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, turning to wait for him. How naïve. How fucking naïve. You had opened up your home, welcomed him inside, and now you were leading him into your personal space, the small corner in this massive house that belonged solely to you, the corner he was used to seeing from outside the house. 

Were you that stupid?

He had seen your parents leave in glamorous attire with a bouquet of flowers, indicating they'd be gone for a substantial time. Jake wasn’t home, attending cram school from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. That left you… vulnerable and alone.

Despite his resolve to wait a good two weeks before visiting again, Heeseung’s patience had worn thin. That initial meeting, feeling your soft curves press into his chest as you toppled over him, had ignited a craving in him. Your scent mingled with his, your body fitting perfectly against him—it had all transcended his tolerance. He had felt his internal organs shift with momentary bliss, his body reacting as if you were made to be felt by him.

Now he was here, in your house, in your presence.

He knew the moment he stepped into your room, he couldn’t leave until he made you his, in some way, in any way. Anticipation bubbled in his veins as he rushed up the stairs.

“Heeseung?”

He froze, his body whipping around to face the intruder. His gaze turned to steel, jaw tightening at the sight of a confused Jake standing in the doorway.

Sim—Fucking—Jaeyun, the brother who wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour.

“Jake?” you inquired, stepping back out and shutting your door. Heeseung’s fists clenched as he stared at the closed door, frustration churning in his stomach. So close. He had been just a step away from entering your room.

Beneath that door lay the key to your heart. Access to your room meant understanding your interests, habits, likes, and dislikes, transforming himself into the man you dreamed of. Jake was a limited source. How much does a brother really talk about his sister?

“What’re you doing here?” Jake questioned as Heeseung and you descended the stairs.

“He was here to drop off the books you read as a useless hobby, so I asked for help with Anatomy,” you explained, smiling at Heeseung, who now seemed oddly stern.

Jake snickered, pulling off his baseball cap to let blonde locks fall into his eyes. “You’re pestering my friend for anatomy?” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

“No, I offered,” Heeseung replied, his tone sharp and cutting through. You turned your head in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour. “Don’t you stay for an extra lesson?” Heeseung raised his brow, seemingly well-versed in Jake’s schedule.

“Yeah, but they let us out early since we’ve covered the semester,” Jake responded, indifferent to Heeseung’s tone, as he tossed his bag onto the floor.

“Up for a round of LOL?” Jake rubbed his palms together in excitement.

Heeseung’s cold gaze changed with a hint of amusement as he nodded. He turned to you, his smile languid. “Sorry Y/N, League of Legends will always be my first choice,” he declared.

“It’s cool, I’ll survive,” you scoffed, jogging back up the stairs and closing your door to resume studying.

Dropping into the armchair, your thoughts drifted to the sudden shift in atmosphere at Jake’s arrival. Jake and Heeseung’s friendship seemed...strange. Your brother followed Heeseung’s lead without question, even overlooking his friend's occasional indifference. Jake, a softie, who would give you the silent treatment for calling him a nerd, yapping about ‘she called me a bad word’ to your mother, seemed unfazed by Heeseung’s intimidating nature.

Shaking your head, you forced your attention back to your studies, determined to focus despite the lingering curiosity.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Another round. 

Another one.

One more.

Heeseung was losing patience, hectically pressing buttons on the Nintendo Switch, his fingers straining to match his brain’s pace. With a hazy vision, Heeseung turned to inspect Jake. Finally, the blonde had lost his will to play, dropping to the couch as snores wracked his frame. It had taken five gruelling hours of continuous rounds, but it would all be worth it.

The opportunity had presented itself, Heeseung internally reasoned. He didn’t sneak into your house or anything— he had greeted your parents when they returned and even ate some snacks your mother had lovingly offered. He was not an intruder. He was a guest, and now the guest was wandering in search of a bathroom. He knew Jake’s bathroom was down the hall, but he purposely overlooked that route, opting instead to tread up the staircase. With every step, rugged creaks whispered in the darkness, but Jake’s tumultuous snores helped mask his motives. 

Soon, he was standing before your door. And this time, he was unstoppable because no one would bother you at 3 AM.

Breath held, lips pressed in silent tension, he pulled at the handle and slipped inside. A thicker blanket of darkness clouded his vision. Freezing against the door, Heeseung blinked rapidly, determined to accommodate his vision. Streaks of streetlight treaded inside from the edge of the curtain, letting him finally see his surroundings, and he turned to inspect the room.

A study desk toppled with bulks of books and papers with sharpies and pens laid at the edge. Heeseung quietly stepped towards it, his finger grazing the neat text, written with keen attention. His chest tingled when he imagined you pepped up on the swivelling chair, jotting down intricate notes with such pretty handwriting. By the look of it, he could tell you were at the top of your studies, a beauty with brains.

Heeseung noticed your phone charging on the edge of the table and quickly grabbed a hold of it. He didn’t know enough to unlock your phone, but he could easily download his new software without a fuss. Heeseung pulled out his phone, automatically airdropping the relevant file to yours. The new software wasn’t an ordinary tracking device, but it even synced your live activity. Now onwards, all your texts and calls would go through him. The only drawback? He needed time for the syncing to finalise.

He put your phone down, but his gaze caught the back cover, and he immediately inspected it. You kept a Polaroid inside the cover, a beautiful smile lighting up your features as you stood next to your best friend at what seemed like Disneyland. Heeseung wanted to cherish your smile, but noticing the arm your friend easily draped across your waist, fury seethed beyond his pupils.

Why were people so effortlessly a part of your life? Why did it come so easily to everyone but him? To him, you were so distant like a dream. He had to bide his time, pretend to be patient, and even befriend a narcissist like Jake, just to make you aware of his existence.

Why couldn’t he just have you?

Heeseung turned away, his mood soured, his gaze searching for something to get his mind off the bitterness. The room was… perplexingly simple. Most of your personality was huddled on that desk; the walls were empty with just a cuckoo clock in the centre and a bean bag resting against the wardrobe. Dispiritedly, he allowed himself to gaze at the bed.

A master bed served with your petite frame wrapped like a sushi roll on a platter.

Heeseung’s body grew warm at the sight. You were in dreamland, the sound of slow breathing now clearer to his ears as he crept closer. He stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze running over your frame. To his displeasure, your face was hidden from his prying eyes, strands disorderly shadowing your features, evoking his irritation.

He couldn’t help it. He found himself getting nearer, your scent getting stronger, soft vanilla teasing his nostrils. Placing his knee on the white sheets, he leaned forward and brushed the strands off your face.

Long lashes rested against your tinted cheeks, round parted lips with a hint of drool running past the corner. Heeseung didn’t even notice when he had dropped himself on the sheets’, his torso completely resting beside your sleeping frame. 

Heaven. The sheets were warm and immersed in your scent, giving him the illusion of your embrace. 

His palms itched to touch. His tongue felt heavy with appetite. He had memorised every inch of your beauty to see you behind his eyelids, but his hands still didn’t know your touch.

Heeseung impulsively reached out, his index finger grazing your bottom lip. Instantly, heat spread from his chest down to his centre. His fingers trembled as he traced the rose petals. Your slow breaths coupled with the softness of your lips made his hunger flare up. He trailed the finger down your chin, collecting your drool, and he transferred it to his mouth, impatiently sucking in your taste. 

He couldn’t help the urge to lower himself, stick his tongue out and slide it against your bottom lip.

His toes curled, his eyes falling shut.

Euphoria. 

Suddenly, he felt like a teenager sharing his first kiss. Your saliva was like sugar melting on his tongue, a taste so delectable that his insides curled in starvation. Heeseung wasn’t a fan of desserts, but your flavour humbled him, making him realise what he’d been missing all his life. He preferred the taste of wine and burnt spices, believing his palate was too mature for anything so juvenile. Yet, god—your lips were like the first shot of his high. Suddenly, sweet things became irresistible.

His lower region tingled as his flicks became harsher, his mouth wide open in mindless hunger, his drool messily spilling on your lips. His mind buzzed, body twisting into the sheet in urgency; your taste had rendered him so weak that he was willing to disrupt his entire plan just from the heat of your mouth.

He felt his arousal strain through his trousers as he tried sliding his tongue in the small gleaming gap in your lips when suddenly he felt you stir. He jerked away, breath heaving, lips drenched with spit. Narrow-eyed, he surveyed your features.

Please not yet. Please, baby.

Instead of ruining his plans, you simply tugged the blanket low. He saw your tongue peek out and run over your bottom lip and gulp down his saliva. It was unintentional and child-like, maybe, one of your sleeping habits. But Heeseung’s blood burned at the sight, his mouth drying up, pupils darkening.

His gaze chased lower, and he spotted a silver of skin, peaking through the cover. The blanket was tangled low on your waist, exposing your brunched-up shirt to his hungry eyes. He didn’t even bother fighting his lascivious thoughts, abruptly tugging up your shirt to reveal your stomach. Heeseung crawled down, his lips immediately pressing into the golden skin, trailing restrained kisses up your waistline. His restrain wavered when he was presented with the sight of your tiny belly button. His mouth salivated as he observed the little hole. Instantly his tongue lashed out, dipping into the curve. His body hummed, his vision blurring as his hips involuntarily thrust into the sheets. He wanted to fill—every hole—every crevice that let him invade. If there was a part he couldn’t physically access, he wanted to stab holes and punch his essence in every corner to mark you as his.

Saliva pooled down his jawline, drenching your abdomen as he protruded his needy tongue into your warm button. He flicks become hungrier, needier, his hands scrambling to grope something—anything. With cheeks pressed flat against your damp stomach, he bit down on his lip to silence the groan itching up his throat as he squeezed your waist.

Fuck. You were made to be touched. You were made to be his clay. You were made to mould into his favourite plaything. You were made for him to love.

Inhale.

Heeseung’s gaze darted to your face, his muscles tensing at the sharp inhale.

Fuck—shit—fuck—your eyes were half open.

Survival instincts kicked in, and Heeseung rolled off the bed at lightning speed, slithering beneath it, pressing his lips together to steady his breathing. The bed creaked as you shifted and sat up. He could almost picture it: your heavy-lidded eyes widening in alarm, the image of a flushed Heeseung gazing up at you—poof—gone, like a mystical encounter. You’d wonder if seeing him there was a figment of your imagination. You’d gulp and rub your template, accepting your insanity.

Heeseung envisioned it all—and he was right.

You were going crazy, thinking about Heeseung, your brother’s best friend, doing sickening, revolting, absolutely heavenly things to you. You didn’t recall dreaming of him, but you might be a stage two schizophrenic because you were now hallucinating his presence. Your body was overly indulged in the hallucination, feverish and covered in goosebumps. You kicked off the blanket, noticing your shirt pooled up, your stomach warm, limbs shaking.

Heeseung waited, his heartbeat steadying as you showed no sign of suspicion. Just like he had imagined. Your insecure mind probably convinced you otherwise. Sometimes, even seeing doesn’t translate to believing—especially for someone as pure-hearted as you. You’d rather doubt your own soul than accuse anyone else of foul play. He’d have to teach you to believe in yourself more than this world—he’d force you to grow a thorn in that beautiful heart, so no one could taint it. Except him.

He lay there, flushed—dazed. He laid there for hours until your laborious breaths morphed into sweet lullabies.

As he slid out the bed, he turned towards you, his heart throbbing with adoration.

You were back to being a little sushi roll, covered with a blanket, your hair sticking to your face as you slept like a log. The mere thought of someone else seeing you innocently asleep made his blood boil. He'd gladly crack open their skulls, extract their hippocampi, and flush them down the toilet to erase any trace of you from their minds.

Heeseung stepped closer and gently kissed your head. He inhaled deeply, savouring your scent from your flushed frame. Reluctantly, he stepped back, grabbed his phone and ensured the sync was complete before heading out the door.

He had to speed things up; the wait was becoming unbearable.

Straight away, Heeseung took a cab home. There was a solid hour before his morning lecture, so he immediately threw himself into his bed and analysed the synced files on his phone.

Details from your phone helped him understand you, but he didn’t know everything just yet. He scrolled through your notes. You liked watching dramatic sitcoms about housewives and divorces. Your YouTube was just a diverse cookbook: most watched clips were recipes ranging from brownies to egg soufflé to Arabic hummus. He chuckled as he noticed some dance tutorials. He would love to see you dance one day.

Your social media presence was barely a drop in his research. You had zero posts, and mostly followed celebrities and high school girlfriends. Looking into your teenage years, to Heeseung’s relief, you had been to an all-girls school. He scoured your followers for any guys, but except for some male actors, you didn’t seem to have anyone worth noting.

The syncing only allowed access to a specific set of photos you had downloaded from your PC onto the mobile. There was a total of six pictures— three of those were of the fucking sunset. The rage he felt as he patiently waited for the pictures to download only to be met with an ugly ball of yellow light was unfathomable.

As he scrolled, he found a picture of a younger girl in a white sundress sitting beside a boy who proudly held up a fishing net, occupied with three mackerels, a memory of Jake and your childhood. His heart felt warm as he zoomed into your features. Unknowingly, he was tracing the line of your smile, the shape of your eyes on the screen, a dumb smile playing on his own lips.

He snapped out of it and scrolled ahead. The following picture was a group photo from— high school. You were the centre of attention, your hair up in a ponytail, a vivid smile glossing your features as girls huddled around you. He felt the magnetic pull exuding your frame even from lifeless photos— making him wish he had opted for your area, so he could have found you earlier. He believed whatever time frame he found you, he would have pounced to get you to himself.

Heeseung forcibly clicked off and opened the last photo in the synced album. His smile wiped off, his body sitting alert, his gaze narrowed and fixated on the screen. Your university’s back entrance had a swing where he noticed couples hanging and making out.

In the snapped photo, you were perched on top of the wooden swing, eating an ice lolly with a man behind you, his hands on your shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face whilst pointing at the camera.

Heeseung’s grip on his phone tightened. From the outskirts, he hadn’t seen that face anywhere near you, but then again, how much could one know as an outsider. 

No.

Jake’s mocking insults about your love life were proof of your singularity.

He hated knowing such little about your world. He hated someone so undeserving and irrelevant could touch you so easily when he had to watch you from the shadows, dwell on small encounters.

He had to find this guy and ensure your protection before he could even think of disclosing his love for you. Whatever this man was, Heeseung had to know more.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hello! Love your writing, so yummy. I was wondering if you would take a request? I was thinking what it would be like if Lucifer was dating a fem reader who was a fox sinner and she randomly does animal like things. I think he would be so interested in the ear and tail movement and would try to see what different things cause what reactions. Foxes are very wary so I could see her jumping easily and him taking advantage of that lol 😭. Then, if he would see her like "pounce" on Angel as a prank cause they're besties. Lastly, I just know if he heard her growl, his knees would get weak (imagine them having a growling fight for some reason cause he growled at Alastor that one time 🤣💀). Anyway, I'm dragging this on, so have writing this if you do! I'd appreciate it! *mwah*

A/N— Just when I think the requests can't get any better, another wonderful anon pops up to steal the show. I LOVE THIS so much. This is more or less a small compilation 💅🏻🦋 I had to do a little research for this one, but I think it's so silly 😭💖 I hope you have a wonderful weekend anon!

Animalistic | Lucifer x Fem Fox Sinner!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a common Red Fox Sinner, swearing (I mean, seriously — it's Hazbin 🤣), Reader being a menace to society

Word Count: 696

Summary: More often than not, your animalistic behaviors take over. . .

Lucifer watched you from afar — not in a creepy way, but in a ‘that's my girlfriend and I'm admiring her’ kind of way.

Right then, he was watching you wallow on the couch that had been placed in the lounge specifically for you, by Charlie, because you refused to sit on a piece of furniture that had the scent of the Radio Demon practically rolling off of it in waves. 

So the fucker went and sat on your couch.

The audacity. 

You were pretty pissed at the moment, which was evident by the growling and angry mumbling that became louder at times. 

He only caught a couple pieces of dialogue, like: ‘no fuckin’ respect for BOUNDARIES!’ And: ‘I ought ‘ta shit in that fuckers shoes!’ 

But it was enough to keep him attempting to hold in his laughter, which he ultimately failed in. 

You quit wallowing in attempts to get your scent to return back to the couch the moment you heard a noise. You jumped, one ear twitching while your tail lifted into something resembling a ‘u’ shape, showing you were now on high alert. 

The moment you caught a whiff of your boyfriend, you turned to face him. He was biting his bottom lip so hard to keep from laughing. 

You could only roll your eyes and stand from the couch, fixing your hair as you trotted over to hug him. “Better not be laughing at me.” You whined. 

“Your words, not you. Never you.” He replied, holding you close as you went about rubbing your scent on him as well. Just so no one would get any ideas. 

You were watching. Waiting. 

Your tail was swishing at your side in a playful manner, just waiting for Angel Dust to walk past the dark hallway like he did every evening before bed. 

The moment his footsteps could be heard, you were prepared to launch out of the darkness — something you hadn't done in months. 

He came into your line of sight and it was go time. 

Launching out of the darkness, you easily tackled your best friend, the two of you tumbling until you landed on top, pinning two of his arms to the floor with your sharp canines on display as you grinned down at him. 

“Gotcha!” You cheered happily, your tail swishing from side to side.

“First off, ouch, that fuckin’ hurt — secondly, why the fuck can't you ever attack the short king with your midnight zoomies?”

“He's almost always asleep at this time.” You pouted removing your hands from his arms, nipping at his hand when he went to pet your ears. 

“I dare you to wake him up next time.”

You grinned, getting off completely to help him up. Oh, you would.

Charlie approved of the relationship between you and her dad, but that didn't mean that she didn't witness some odd things whenever he decided to stay for dinner. . .

She could ignore you pouncing on him at random because you pounced on everyone except Alastor. 

She could also ignore him helping you hide snacks for later because she knew that a good snack didn't last long in the hotel. 

But it was harder to ignore you biting, growling, and scratching at Lucifer, laying on your back in his lap on your couch, with him growling playfully and running his fingers through your hair. 

It was cute in a way — her dad embracing the form you were given, and you, eager to play almost constantly. . . Except for when you were nervous or felt threatened by another demon higher on the food chain.

Though one look told her that he had hearts in his eyes. 

And you did too. Even when your sharp teeth finally latched onto his arm and you gently shook your head before releasing and bursting out into a fit of giggles that had Lucifer quit growling, instead leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

He smirked when your ears twitched and eyes crossed at the sign of affection. 

You growled in return, playfully nipping at his hand with a noise somewhere between a very fox scream and a whine. 

But it was all in fun.

[uchu-no-bashira]

Night Time Relief - Demon!Gyomei x Fem!Reader

TW: Minors do not interact. Husband Gyomei, Demon Gyomei, Dubious Consent, Incubus, Non-con Touching, Non-con elements, Breeding, Power play, Power Imbalance, Blood, Restraining, Biting, Licking, Scratching, Slight Vore(?), Predator/Prey.

A Kasugai crow delivered you orders to destroy maybe one of the most skilled killers in the forest, West of the village it preys on. Without a second thought, you make your way through the woods that night, failing to note that the area around was incomprehensibly still. The smell of petrichor fills the air as freezing raindrops fall to the Earth, shrouding the forest with the soft sound of clattering leaves. You couldn’t ignore the feeling of foreboding in your mind as your footsteps grew lighter and swifter. You could feel it burning the back of your neck, a relentless gaze waiting for you in the abyss of total darkness among the tree line behind you. With hasty eyes, you glance back and forth along the moonlit path ahead and behind you.

Being this uneasy was nothing new to you seeing as you killed demons nightly, so being unsettled from time to time was a given, but tonight? Tonight was different. What was it about this area that forced goosebumps to traverse your body as well as make your stomach turn with venomous butterflies that corrupted your nervous system? It plagued your mind so heavily that you decided to go through the checklist of red flags you’d created in your time as a slayer, counting the top three off the list.

"Darkness, check. Ominous feeling of dread, check... What was that third thing?... Fuck, I'm too scared to remember.”

Hearing you admit to fear so blatantly brought a smile to your pursuer's face, he decided to enjoy the thrill of the chase until the very last moment, so he continued to prowl around in the shadows, waiting for his opportunity to pounce. "How would she taste?" He wondered, keeping his distance while remaining as low as he could, blades of grass gently sliding across his arms, legs and stomach, boosting his sensory skills as he 'sees' the world around him essentially. He listens to your footsteps, allowing the pursuer to constantly keep track of your precise location. It didn’t make it any better that he knows his prey well, he also knows that you’re onto him. All he has to do is stay out of sight. Gyomei had to admit he was a bit disappointed in his meek beloved for not realizing how grave the danger you were in, but he also knew that when you are petrified, you don't use your mind properly.

If You'd been a bit more composed, you would have realized that his commanding aura of dominance quieted all the other creatures in the forest, leaving an eerie, deathly silence that would make even the most expert of hikers turn around and head home. With a deep breath your eyes close slowly, trying desperately to remember what it was that was throwing you off-kilter. You rely on your ears and sense of smell. There was nothing that stood out immediately except the sound of the light rain coming to a stop, so with a low grumble, you whispered to yourself. "Listen to the forest… Listen to the creek around you and the creatures-” You pause momentarily as it finally dawns on you, “There are no other sounds but the creek!… It shouldn't be this qui-”

Before you finish the sentence, a deep snarl comes from your left just as your head turns in it’s direction. Faster than you could open your eyes, a branch snapped, then Gyomei’s body crashed into you. You tumble a few times against the ground, ultimately being pinned to your back. The sound of thumping in your ears increases as you stare into a set of luminous red eyes and gaze upon ashen brown skin that was cold to the touch. Gyomei lets out a deep chuckle while pinning your small hands above your head.

"You remember too late, my love. I thought you would have realized that over an hour ago when I first entered the area." He states in a menacing baritone voice. The force of his tackle left your weapons too far away for you to reach. Regardless, you fight with the strength you have by kicking the demon's rock hard abdominals. Desperate and breathing unsteadily, you do everything imaginable to break free of Gyomei's imperishable death grip on your wrists. The force he applied made it feel like they were going to snap as you grimaced. You continued to think of a way to at least propel him up and over your head, if only you could steady your feet. He was as heavy as a fully loaded train and the sight of his bloodied canines shining in the moonlight made your breathing even more sporadic with the thought that you’d be your husband’s next meal.

Your focus was drawn to his face and how terrifying it was. It harbored black cracks all over that spread along his neck and shoulders, with four extra arms protruding from his side while two continue to pin you. The sounds of your own breaths were drowned out and dominated by his hungry growls. What could have happened to him? Why did this happen to him? He would never agree to becoming a demon… or so you thought. Is this where he’s been for the last two years since his last mission? Through the midst of your confusion, you let out an exasperated grunt, finally finding the words you want to say to him.

"Gy-Gyomei, please! It’s me, your wife, don't-'' You're interrupted as one of Gyomei's free hands comes up to your mouth, covering it in a surprisingly gentle fashion. He makes sure to not scratch your mouth or face with his blackened, serrated claws. Tears of blood flow from his eyes, down his ashen cheeks and onto yours. The cries you expelled were muffled as your own tears involuntarily slip from your eyes and mix with the blood on your face. You begin shaking your head back and forth rapidly, your breaths continuing to stagger as you adamantly try to break free, twisting your wrists until you both hear a loud pop.

The feeling of sharpened nails press into the flesh of your cheek, any more and he’d puncture it. "Shh... My love, don't make this any harder than it needs to be." He tones deeply into your ear as he leans down, the heat from his words making you release a scream into his palm in frustration. Gyomei hums before moving his frosted fingers away from your mouth, slowly tracing along the thickness of your lips before he pinches your chin in the cusp of his index finger. A sharp pain radiates the underside of your chin as his thumb nail penetrates the skin and he draws blood. The stream of red fluid tickles your trachea as you close your eyes from the burning sensation. "You act as if you don't want this… Have you not missed me in my absence?” He asks honestly.

Your breath stifles, your eyes fly open, blistered with tears of grief you’d thought long passed as you lock eyes with your hunter... With your husband. “He remembers me…” You think to yourself while continuing to wiggle your wrist. Finding a little bit of room within his large hands, you were able to break one of your hands free, although you assumed he allowed you to. You slap his hand away from your chin, then shove your palm into his face. "Get.. off... Me!..." You grunt, feet still kicking at his hardened stomach that he, of course, cannot feel. This coerces a demented chuckle from the giant as jagged teeth sink into your palm, burning instantly. Suddenly, the space around your waist is tugged as his nails cut into your sides easily like a knife gliding through butter. He digs his nails in deep, stopping just before any major arteries as he holds you steady.

More of your blood trickles over his fingertips and a feral growl escapes his chest. A loud scream begins to escape your own mouth, the same burning in your chin earlier now ravaging the entirety of your body, the nerves screaming in pain across the synapses in your brain… But then… The area grows warm and sensitive, changing the feral screams of your voice into pleasured moans. Gyomei's top left arm continues to hold one of your wrists, while the top right that you’d smacked away, grabs your offending bloody hand and he drags his tongue over the wound he'd made.

He laps at your palm sensually, slurping on your red nectar while he chuckles. "You know there is no point in this." He tones before licking his lips. "You're too sweet to let go and far too valuable to me to share with anyone else."

You scoff at his words in disgust. "Listen... To yourself!! You- Anh~!" A moan quivers in your voice as his nails squeeze deeper into your sides. "You sound... Like a... Monster! This isn't you! You're not like this!..." You whimper, eyes closing as you turn your head away from what used to be your loving husband. Gyomei continues to lick your wound, becoming even more roused by the position he's in. He kisses his way down your wrist, then smiles playfully.

“But you're enjoying yourself and don't want me to stop... Isn't that right?" He asks in a smooth tone of voice. You hated yourself for agreeing with the demon, a faint heat creeping along your cheeks as you refused to answer, your body now basking in the warmth surging through your body. His carnivorous licks grow more pleasant with each passing second. You look up at the demon with curiosity plaguing your mind.

"Exactly... What kind of demon are you? Why did you become a demon? How could you.. Leave me for so long?" You ask in a medium pitched, breathy voice. Your arousal was obvious to the demon towering above you. He gently responds back while placing your hand back in its original place in his large palm, pinning it above your head again.

"My only reason for becoming a demon was to meet you again. I was dying a painful death on my final mission as a Slayer and could not bear the thought of never saying goodbye… So, I did what I must to meet you once more. I try not to dwell on my blunder, as what I wished for finally came to pass.” He tones while dragging his nail along the supple flesh of your skin. “As far as what kind of demon, it should be obvious by now, my love. Tell me, what do you think I am?" He asks while taking the finger on his bottom right hand to the top of your slayer uniform, then drags it down to the waistline of your pants. The sound of fabric tearing and buttons popping could be heard as your breasts burst out of the torn clothing.

The sound of the demon purring signals that he likes what he sensed, your overwhelming aroma of lust teasing his nose and tongue as he palms your chest. The cold wet air grazing your bare flesh and nipples pulls a stifled moan from your lips before you answer. "An... Incubus?..." Gyomei nods his head slowly, then places his forehead to yours.

“Will you allow me to indulge in your warmth once more, y/n? I may be a demon… But I still care deeply about you, that much I have not forgotten.” He asks while looping his finger on the inside of your pants. You couldn’t help but relent and nod your head. You’d missed his touch so much for the past two years that he was away. He grins at you lovingly, then begins to drag his finger from the base of your collarbone to your navel tearing the flesh of your torso as he goes. The sound of your moans flooding his ear brought bliss throughout his body.

He uses his last two arms to spread your legs, exposing a precious pussy that was oozing cum prematurely as he rubs his clothed dick against your sensitive bulb. His venom had worked just as he wanted it to. He feels along your tiny frame as you fully submit to your lust. With your head tilted back, eyes half lidded and your body flushed beyond all reason, you position your hips against the underside of his dick. The massive output of steam from your body signals to him that you’re all his and your resistance has dissipated. Gyomei giggles at you before dragging his tongue along your bloody torso. "You taste amazing, my love…" He whispers as removes his claws from your waist and free’s his large dick from his pants, then lines it up at your opening. “This will hurt a bit.”

As he pushes his hips forward, his dick seemingly splits you up the middle and presses into your cervix as you let out a feral moan. How thrilling it felt to be under your husband once again albeit under less than ideal circumstances. Here you were, bare as a newborn child on the forest floor, mating with a demon of astronomical size and strength. Each thrust into your tight hole had you seeing stars and squeezing your nails into your palms. “T-to much!... H-hurts!” You cry as tears of pleasure start to careen down your cheeks. Gyomei snarls as he leans in to bite your neck, injecting more venom into you, soothing your pain while feeding himself in the process as your scream takes on a more pleasured tone.

Gyomei drags his tongue along your neck slowly and with the tantalizing taste of iron on his tongue accompanied by the feeling of his dick being squeezed and sucked into your greedy pussy has soft, pleased growls leaving his chest with each snap of his hips. He could lose himself in this sensation and he does. You’re intoxicating to this man and he can’t stop himself as he goes in a second time, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Your heavy breathing and moaning has your heart pumping his venom through your veins at an exponential rate, causing you to cum all over his pelvis as you take him in his entirety.

“F-fuck!... S-so big!… S-so good!~” You whimper, your pussy spasms as you feel a dagger like sensation piercing into your collar bone, the sound of squelching filling the air as your eyes drift to the back of your head. The feeling of his cold skin against your own causes temporary relief as you continue to release guttural moans into Gyomei’s ear. The large demon continues to drive into you harder, deeper, faster until he feels you nearing your breaking point. He squeezes your wrists tighter, pumping into you sloppily as creamy white slick spreads to his abdomen.

“Almost...” He pleads in a deep and needy tone as he angles himself to fuck into your sweet spot. The sheer feeling of him pushing into your tightening hole was too much to bear, what tips him over the edge was the sound of your voice breaking as you orgasm loudly, the sound reverberating in his ears causing him to let out a deep groan that vibrates your chest as he shoots thick, hot ropes of his seed into you.

Both of you were breathing heavily and you’d looked like you’d been mauled by a demon. Bite marks everywhere and close to severe blood loss. You look up at him with tired eyes, the adrenaline from his venom wearing off as you ask breathily,

“Are you going to devour me now?”

Gyomei chuckles and lets go of your bruised wrists.

“Oh, my love… this is just the first of our encounters. I’ve decided this will not be the last of us meeting. As I said: You're too sweet to let go and far too valuable to me to share with anyone else... ”

… And you didn’t mind that. Not. One Bit.

[clovermae]

Just Us Two

🍀 Pairing: time-skip!Kozume Kenma x gender-neutral!Reader

🍀 Genre: Fluff

🍀 Word Count: 734

🍀 A/N: Posted on AO3 here! Enjoy! 💚

“Kenma?” you call out, hand rapping on the door, but there is no response. You knock one more time before opening the door, observing as the light from the hallway pools into the dark room. Your eyes naturally drift to the corner, where you immediately spot him sitting on his bed, hunched over and eyes glued to the game in his hands. The dim light from the screen casts a glimmer in his concentrated eyes. A lighthearted grin spreads on your face as you stroll over to Kenma carefully to not startle him.

“Oh, hi Y/N,” Kenma shifts his gaze to your languid form, flashing a small smile before returning to his game.

“Hi. I thought you were going to the bathroom.”

“I was.”

“Pretty long way to go to use the bathroom don’t you think?” You take a moment to admire the simple layout of his childhood bedroom. Just a bed, a desk, and a large shelf of video games. It’s quite fitting for him, you think to yourself. It’s nice to know some things never change. 

Kenma doesn’t respond to your question and instead hums in contemplation, brows furrowed, thumbs anchored to the gamepad and buttons while staring at the now paused screen. You can’t help but admire the soft glow on his face. His hair is usually down, shielding his cat-like eyes from view, but now the strands are tucked neatly into a ponytail. 

“Lev was annoying.” is all he says, and you can’t help the chuckle that rumbles from within. Your hand moves to tuck a stray piece behind his ear, fingers dancing along his jawline until his face rests in your palm. 

“You always think Lev is annoying,” you reply with a grin. But it begins to wilt at the image of Kenma slipping away to escape the noise and chaos of Kuroo’s Nekoma reunion. Maybe he’s overwhelmed or exhausted, and you failed to notice anything. “You sure you’re okay, Ken?”

“I am.” Kenma sinks his head further into your hand until it eventually rests on your shoulder. In turn, your arm naturally finds its way around his blanket-clad shoulder. “I just wanted to sit in my room for a bit. I like it better.” The straightforwardness in his answer is reassuring, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“You could’ve told me you know? I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“You looked like you were having fun. I didn’t want to force you to come with me. That’s why I have this.” Kenma tugs at the edges of the blanket you gave him many years ago. You’re surprised he still has it, but you’re even more surprised by how well taken care of it is. A ghost of a smile appears on his face as his fingertips caress the soft fabric. “It’s warm and cozy. It reminds me of you.”

“Oh.” The words flee from your mind as quickly as they come. Your eyes dart around the dark room idly, searching for an object to rest your gaze on to no avail. 

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?” you whisper, the words finally tumbling out and exposing your bashfulness. With the small source of light, you’re able to make out the light blush dusting Kenma’s cheeks. He lingers for a moment before pulling away and opening up the blanket for you to join him. You pounce on him without skipping a beat and the two of you shift until you find a comfortable position laying on the bed. 

The familiar chimes from Kenma’s game fill the room as you nestle your head closer to his chest, listening to the gentle palpitations of his heart. He was right. You love your friends, but sometimes you need a little time to unwind. 

“When do you wanna go back?” he asks. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Ken.”

“And if I don’t wanna go back?”

“Then we don’t have to.”

“Are you sure?” His hands continue to tap away on his device, but his eyes glance down at you, hints of worry laced in them. 

“I’m sure,” you chuckle, craning your neck to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, “I think being with you is a whole lot better.” A wave of relief washes over him, and you feel his body sink a little more into the mattress. His grip on you becomes slightly more firm as he whispers. 

“Me too.”

[moonselune]

Also halsin and astarion x werewolf gf

Didn't know if you wanted separate or poly so I went for separate for now....

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin x Werewolf Girlfriend

The forest was quiet, the usual cacophony of nocturnal creatures stilled by the presence of the full moon. You stood at the edge of the camp, your body trembling as the transformation began. Halsin, ever the attentive lover, was by your side, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos within you.

"It's alright, my love," he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. "Let it come. I'll be here."

You nodded, grateful for his presence. Halsin had been a constant source of support since you had first revealed your lycanthropy to him. His extensive knowledge of nature and the balance it required had given him a unique understanding of your condition.

As the change took over, you dropped to all fours, your senses sharpening and your muscles rippling with newfound strength. Halsin watched with a mixture of fascination and respect, never once looking away.

Once the transformation was complete, you stood before him, a towering werewolf with eyes that still held the spark of the woman he loved. Halsin stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently stroke the fur along your neck.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours. "You are a marvel of nature, my love."

You rumbled in response, the sound a mix of a growl and a purr. Halsin’s acceptance meant everything to you. He had shown you that your lycanthropy was not something to be feared, but rather a part of who you were—wild and untamed, yet deeply connected to the natural world.

With a nod, Halsin stepped back, giving you the space to explore your surroundings. You took off into the forest, your senses alive with the scents and sounds of the night. Halsin followed at a respectful distance in bear form, always nearby but allowing you the freedom you needed.

As the night wore on, however, you couldn't stop yourself from toying with Halsin, and soon enough the inevitable roughhousing began.

Halsin, with his massive frame and powerful claws, matched your every move with grace and power. Despite the playful nature of your sparring, there was an unspoken understanding between you two—this was not just a game, but a way to reaffirm your bond with each other and with the primal forces that governed your lives.

You lunged forward, teeth bared in a mock attack, and Halsin responded with a playful swat of his paw. He circled you, his movements fluid and sure-footed, always keeping an eye on your position. The moonlight dappled through the canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across your fur and Halsin's thick coat.

With a sudden burst of speed, you pounced, aiming for Halsin's hindquarters. He twisted at the last moment, avoiding your grasp, and countered with a gentle swipe of his paw that sent you tumbling to the forest floor. You rolled with the impact, quickly scrambling to your feet, your tail wagging in excitement.

Halsin rumbled with laughter, a deep sound that reverberated through the clearing. He lowered his head in a playful challenge, his eyes bright and mischievous. You met his gaze, a fierce grin splitting your wolfish face, and launched yourself at him again.

The two of you continued to wrestle and play under the watchful gaze of the moon, the air filled with the scent of earth and foliage, and the sounds of joyous growls and playful snarls.

As the night wore on and the moon began its descent, you felt the familiar tug of exhaustion setting in. Your movements slowed, and Halsin, sensing your weariness, gentled his play. He nudged you with his massive snout, a silent invitation to rest.

You collapsed onto the soft mossy ground, panting heavily but content. Halsin settled beside you, his bulk providing a comforting presence. The adrenaline of the night's play began to ebb, replaced by a warm sense of satisfaction and peace.

The moon dipped below the horizon, and with its departure, the transformation began to reverse. Your muscles twitched and shifted, bones realigning as you reverted back to your human form. Halsin watched over you with quiet reverence, his bear form shimmering and dissolving into his druidic human shape.

When the transformation was complete, you lay there beside each other, catching your breath and reveling in the closeness of the moment. Halsin reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with gentle fingers.

"You were magnificent, my love," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I'm always in awe of your strength."

You smiled up at him, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over you. "And you, my dear Halsin, are the most wonderful companion I could ever ask for."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x Werewolf Girlfriend

The moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting an eerie glow over the clearing. You stood in the center, your breathing ragged as the familiar itch began to take over. Astarion leaned against a nearby tree, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips.

"Ready for another wild night, darling?" he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You shot him a glare, though there was no real heat behind it. Astarion had a way of making even the most difficult situations feel lighter. "You could be a little more sympathetic, you know."

Astarion shrugged, pushing off the tree and walking over to you. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, I like seeing you like this. So... primal."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. Astarion had always been fascinated by your transformations, finding beauty in the raw power that came with being a werewolf.

As the change began, Astarion stepped back, giving you the space you needed. Your bones shifted, your muscles expanded, and within moments, you stood before him in your full werewolf form. The hunger and wildness of the beast were tempered by the love you felt for the vampire watching you with such intense focus.

"Magnificent," Astarion murmured, his eyes raking over your form. He approached you slowly, his hands reaching out to stroke your fur. "You know, I think you might be even more captivating like this."

You growled softly, a sound of both warning and affection. Astarion laughed, the sound low and rich. "Easy, my love. I'm here to help."

Despite his teasing, Astarion had always been a steady presence during your transformations. He knew how to keep you grounded, his words and touch a tether to your human side. He moved closer, his hands gentle as they traced patterns in your fur.

"Let's go for a hunt," he suggested, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It'll help you burn off some of that energy."

You nodded, your senses already honing in on the sounds of the forest. Astarion grinned, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, and together you set off into the night. The thrill of the hunt, the exhilaration of the chase—it was a part of you that Astarion understood and accepted.

As the night wore on, you returned to camp, your body aching but your spirit soaring. Astarion was there, as he always was, to help you transition back, his touch and presence a constant reminder of his love for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you enjoyed these !! - Seluney

[huskersbooze]

Part 3 to Who's In Control?

Better Than This

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(here!) |

Summary : After the fight and spending time apart, you and Alastor finally come to realise your mutual feelings for one another, but before that, a more important matter needs to be discussed.. will Alastor finally tell the truth?

Warnings : This is where we go off track and not all of this is canon, swearing/cuss words, Angel jokes about sex(?)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : Lore, world building kinda, angst, fluff, Alastor learns to talk about feelings

Ib : Better Than This by Set It Off

Word count : 1.4k

Wide awake on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling of the hotel.

“I’m closing for the night, kid. You gonna be alright?” Husk asks from the bar.

“I’ll manage. Goodnight, Husk.”

“Night, kid.” He heads towards the staircase, but just before leaving for good, he turns to face you one last time. “Take care. And don’t stay up too late.”

“Mhm. You too.”

After a while, it was quiet. Just an empty hotel with the dim hallway lights and nothing else.

You weren’t really sure why you were here. You could’ve gone back to your room after Husk left, or before, for that matter. Maybe your heart just has desires you couldn’t avoid.

“Shit, stop thinking about him! C’mon, brain! Stop it, now.” You aggressively started to blink, trying to find anything else to distract your mind, but everything seemed to be tied to his existence.

There was no denying you missed him.

“What the hell is happening.. I’m supposed to be mad and angry, not missing him..” You sigh.

Poor Alastor, though.. Maybe I should hear him out? No. Fuck, no! He lied to you! No way.

You groan and cover your eyes with the back of your hand. There was this uneasy churn in your stomach.

Am I.. am I in love with Alastor?

-----

“Alastor, you can’t keep this up forever. You need to fix this.” Rosie sighs, walking Alastor back to the Hotel. 

“What use is there, dear, Rosie?” Alastor’s voice is audibly tired-out, though his smile still etched high and proud. “I was so close.”

“You need to tell the poor thing and let her fend for herself.”

“She wouldn’t listen.”

“Alastor, please. This is no longer about your silly little crush.” Rosie stops in her tracks, catching sight of the Hotel a few streets away. “It’s about her soul.”

“Crush?” Alastor asks, oblivious.

“A crush, someone you have feelings for and want to be with.”

“Ridiculous, Rosie. I don’t do.. Feelings.” It pains him to utter such word.

“Whatever ya’ say. Just.. think about what I said, alright?”

Alastor nods, parting ways with Rosie.

Feelings..? Did he have feelings? Feelings for you?

-----

The door creeks, making you turn your head.

Who would be here this late at night? Was it a guest? No, why would a guest come in at 1am?

But then who would it be..?

You got off the couch and eyed the corner which led to the main entrance. A threat, perhaps.

You simply stayed put, saw a glimpse of a shadow, pounced and tackled whatever had made itself welcome in the hotel until the two of you tumbled onto the ground.

Prepared for the worst, you were surprised to hear.. Radio static?

“Alastor..?” You ask.

The Demon looks up at you, his neck wrapped tightly around your hand.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I thought you were an intruder.” You immediately let go and backed up, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?” He questions, sitting on the floor opposite of you.

“It's 1am.”

Alastor tilts his head.

“I wouldn't expect you to be out at 1am.”

“You know I don't sleep, dear.” He says, wincing at the fact he's repeated this multiple times in the past.

“Doesn’t mean you’d be out at 1am.” You mutter.

“Valid point.” He says, the tension in the air starting to grow thick.

“So.. uh.” You trail, “Why exactly are you out at 1am, exactly?”

“Ah, just simply visiting Rosie is all.”

“Oh, I see.”

Alastor looks away, his gaze glued to the hotel floors.

“And you, darling?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Oh. I was helping Husk with the bar.” You tell him, which, ultimately, was a lie. Husk was doing all the work while you were drinking away your feelings. But you weren’t about to admit that to Alastor.

“Yes, I see. How nice.”

“Yep.” Damn, this was so awkward.

You got up from the floor, turning your back, “Well, uh.. Goodnight, then.. Alastor.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

You start hesitantly walking towards the staircase leading to the staff rooms, feeling Alastor watching your back as you left.

“Darling.”

You stop in your tracks. Actually, no, you freeze. Though you made it evident you had no intention in facing him.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Alastor.”

“You don’t understand, dear. I fear I may regret keeping this from you any sooner in the future.”

“Uh huh..?”

“You’re aware of overlords, I assume?”

“Yes, but what does tha-” Before you could continue, you catch sight of Husk by the top of the stairs.

“Hey, you said you’d sleep, kid-” He tries to joke, but realises you’re not alone. “Oh. Hey, boss.”

“Husker.” He acknowledges. 

“Uh.. am I interruptin’ something?”

“Well, actually-”

“No, of course not.” Alastor cuts you off, passing by and giving you a small pat on the head.

God you missed those.

“We’ll discuss this another time, darling. You need your rest.” Alastor gives the small of your back a little push forward, urging you to go to bed. “I hope to see you tomorrow morning?”

“Y-Yeah.. Sure.” You reply, stepping forward, already missing the contact from Alastor’s hand. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed. Sleep well, my dear.”

You reach the top of the steps and Husk accompanies you back to your room, leaving Alastor still in the lobby by himself.

He returns to his broadcasting studios, a gut feeling in his chest telling him to just be honest with you about the contract. He hums a tune as he returns back.

He’ll fix this. He has to.

-----

“Good morning, Al.” You reached the table where everyone was gathered, and was somewhat pleased to find Alastor already sitting in his normal seat.

“How was sleep, my dear?”

“Good. Did you have your daily dose of venison yet?”

“Not quite. You don’t seem to have your breakfast either.”

“Gotta have my priorities.” You shrug. “Shall we discuss this somewhere else?”

“Let’s.”

You leave alongside Alastor, and the rest of the crew can only stare at each other in shock.

“Did I miss something?” Charlie is first to speak up.

Husk smiles, Sir pentious shrugs, Vaggie asks the same thing.

“Who thinks they’re fuckin’?”

“Angel!”

“Joking, jeez!”

-----

“You wanted to say something?” You take a seat on the floor next to Alastor’s chair.

“By all means, you’re welcome to sit on the chair.”

“I’m good. Your broadcasting panel scares me. You sit.”

“If you insist.” He takes a seat, ruffling your hair. “You’re familiar with overlords, correct?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you ever heard of Azrael?”

“The Legend of the Dark Arts Overlord?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.”

“Well, dear, he’s not a legend. He was the most powerful overlord of us all.”

You weren’t sure what reaction to be giving so you nodded along, waiting for him to continue.

“7 years ago, us overlords were experimenting with power and magic. Azrael formed an experiment, inheriting part of his magic to a human.” He says, meanwhile you still had no idea what this had to do with you.

“This human would be protected, and would only die when Azrael himself gets killed, thus sending the experiment to hell, whether they deserved it or not. 7 years ago, some of us overlords had ‘matters’ to attend to and Azrael had died in the process during the last 2 years.” Alastor proceeds to drop multiple history facts on you at 9 in the morning.

“2 years ago,” He states. “The human was sent to hell with locked up dark magic they weren’t aware of. The overlords are now gambling for this soul as whoever owns the soul owns the power and magic, but on one condition.”

“One condition?”

“Yes, my dear. You see, to own the soul is one thing, but to own the magic.. The soul has to be killed.”

“That’s terrible! And complete bullshit.”

“Exactly, darling. And I own this very soul.” He sighs. “As long as I can own her soul for long enough and find a backdoor, her soul won’t be gambled any longer by the current overlords. But you see, dear, I’m on a time limit here.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Who’s soul is it?” You desperately question, completely forgetting you were supposed to be still mad at Alastor.

Alastor sighs, looking at you with compassionate eyes as a hand comes to cup your cheek.“2 years ago, this soul entered hell. 2 years ago, another soul that entered hell.. was you.”

———/ TBC. /———

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