#which is a crime because I adore them

[pangonaut]

girl I will make a crossover that is SO specific

[egophiliac]

C'MON TO THE THEATER!

I love these guys so much. forget NRC, I want to attend their terrible disaster school for disaster children that might actually be plastered on top of the smoking remains of an actively sinking ship. I may or may not actually learn anything, but I will have the time of my life.

[emotional-fandom-soup]

I dont understand how some people can hate late season Neelix, like. Dude tried to check in on every crew member's background and remember their traditions and days that might be important to them. And when that didn't work with Belaana he literally offered her to use him as a doormat just so she can relieve some stress. How can you find him annoying instead of lovable?

[jorisjurgen]

the rule of fandoms is that if someone has a character in their url or bio they either understand that character well enough to give a 3 hour unscripted lecture on the subject OR they're really obsessed with their version of that character thats an entirely different made up guy. and theres literally never an in between

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

The Daycare

Danny moves to Gotham after Lady Gotham themselves asks for his help.

Gotham's natural ecto has been deteriorating, and considering ecto was what held everything in existence together safely this was a major problem for Lady Gotham.

If Gotham got too bad it would spread to the rest of the world, and could cause it to cease to exist entirely.

So Danny came, as the Ghost King he had the power to filter in great amounts of the corrupt ecto just by being in the city.

But part of his obsession was protection & helping, Gotham already had a lot of help (Batfam). So he decided to focus on helping not with the problem at the top (villains), but with the problems at the bottom.

The problems at the bottom that would be the root cause in breeding more problems.

After all, many didn't start evil, but need and desperation pushed them towards that path.

So Danny moved to the worst part of Gotham, The Bowery.

What did he do there?

Why open a Daycare of course!

Many parents could not get a good or stable job simply because they needed to look after their kids and could not afford to pay the daycare fee.

Danny wasn't worried about money after all the coffers that he inherited as king would take forever to even make a dent in it, and that's only if he was living a very lavish lifestyle everyday for several human generations.

With this in mind his Daycare fee was pretty much nothing.

He would take care of the children of a very wide age group, while the adults could focus on getting a decent job or even returning to school for a higher education for better opportunities.

How does he care for so many children?

He duplicates himself of course!

At least in the very beginning, after a while he begins expanding his Daycare offering classes and tutoring to the children as well as free food at all times.

Who's helping him ?

His ex-rouges and other ghosts who volunteered.

Lunch Lady absolutely adores having so many people and kids to make food for, and Box Lunch can socialize and play with the other kids while she works.

Ember even volunteers to be the music teacher!

Danny has the help of many ghosts who once they heard his plans were very excited to help, many having the obsession with teaching children or in general. Other ghosts helped with building, expanding, and just generally helping maintain the building in great shape. Even building a very diverse and fun playground.

Of course all this catches the attention of Red Hood. Danny just appears one day on his territory with many others and practically having a building appear out of nowhere with how fast it was built, asking literal pennies to take care of the children, and free food for anyone who asks.

All that gains a lot of attention and is rather suspicious.

But the crime rate has been going down since he opened, which is a good thing.

But many people don't want good things and decide messing with Danny and his Daycare.

Unfortunately for them cuz Danny is absolutely down for violence if he's protecting what's his.

~

Villain: "What a lovely place you have here would be a shame if something were to happen"

Danny who has the audacity to fight Gods and win: "Someone call an ambulance! But not for me!

Also Danny: "These hands are rated E for everyone"

~

Other people:"Should we call someone for help?"

The ghosts:" Nah, let him have his fun he needs his enrichment"

~

Red Hood: "He's very suspicious"

Danny is absolutely covered in paint and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with the young kids: "Ah yes I'm totally doing normal Gothamite behavior"

~

Lady Gotham is having some self care spa time she's having a grand time: "Should I warn the young king of the other halfa (Jason)? Hmm best not, it'll be more entertaining if it happens naturally"

~

Just an Idea

[luveline]

jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)

“You aren’t still mad.”

You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 

Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 

You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 

“I want it just as bad as you do.” 

“But I’m better.” 

“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 

You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 

She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 

“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 

“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 

“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”

“What, without you?” Elle asks. 

“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 

“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 

“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”

“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 

“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 

“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 

You grin. “He’s cute.” 

“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 

“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 

“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 

“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 

“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 

“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 

“You don’t want to be that friend?” 

You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 

“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 

“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 

“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 

“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 

You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 

But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 

No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 

You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 

Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 

“Hi boys,” she greets. 

Derek turns. 

Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 

You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 

Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 

You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 

“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”

“You really like bugs, huh?”

“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 

You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 

“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 

“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 

You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 

“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 

“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 

Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 

There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 

“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 

[dimonds456]

Oh my god I figured it out.

When people say "we need more morally grey characters" and then immediately turn around and accuse morally grey characters of being evil, I think that is directly equivalent to the amount of screentime they have.

Like, people LOVE the characters in Arcane despite none of them being pure people, but people are quick to hate on characters like Ford Pines or Rose Quartz despite them doing similar things because we barely get to know them.

When those people say "we need more morally grey characters," they just mean they want a chance to get to love them.

No no I have proof.

The Pines Twins are pretty equal to each other in different ways about the crimes they've committed and how good they are doing it, but people adore Stan and hate Ford because Stan gets two full seasons of screentime whereas Ford only gets BARELY half a season.

We don't know him as well, and by the time we meet him we already love Stan, so hearing about him shutting the curtains or the "remember our childhood dream? Go live it out without me while doing this thing I need you to do," makes people MUCH quicker to jump to Stan's defense, which online QUICKLY turns to "I hate Ford so much" rather than a genuine conversation about the presented conflict at hand.

Or take anyone in SU. All the main characters make a pretty big bad decision at some point- Pearl left Steven to drop, Amethyst shapeshifted into Rose, ect- but we do forgive them because we love those guys and we have gotten to know them.

But Rose is dead. We can't get to know her and have to piece together who she was through other's retellings of her. The only time we see Rose as herself is in Steven's tape, and even then, her message to him is scripted. So when we find out Rose is Pink, and we see everyone fall apart, instead of trying to understand why she'd do this, people instead jump to "she betrayed everyone, I hate her."

Not saying this is an invalid way to write morally grey characters (please don't stop doing it this way actually), but I AM saying that fandom should be more aware of this from a psychological perspective.

Something to think about.

[angellic4l]

thank you’s - s.r

in which; sunshine!bau!reader is demeaned by an officer on a case and season2!spencer sticks up for her.

content: fem!reader, reader described as having ‘girly’ flair, sexism, mention of blood/bloodstain, mainly fluff, protective spencer, and i think that’s it but lmk.

a/n: i just rawdog it and write on tumblr as a draft so i have 0 clue how many words there are. also, thank you all so much for the love on my first fic, i adore you all. these are my babies now and i hope you love them.

Warm sunlight warms the skin on your back while you’re crouched down at the latest crime scene, examining a bloodstain on the concrete floor. Despite it being November, it’s still considerably warm in Texas, a big contrast to Virginia weather for sure.

Despite official policies about dress code and such, you’re still a fun person, so you like to add your own girly flair to the professional attire you sport almost every single day. It doesn’t harm anybody, it doesn’t break any rules, and it’s cute.

However, pair the cute flair you add to your clothes with your enthusiastic, optimistic, ‘happy go lucky’ personality, and the fact that you’re a woman, and it causes people to make their own assumptions - typically sexist ones.

After doing bloodstain analysis on the red splatter that coats part of the parking lot’s floor, you go to stand up from your crouching position. Mid motion, you spot a small note on the floor, tucked under the wheel of a car. Crime scene analysis requires everything and anything to be processed, and the unsub has yet to make contact with authorities, so you make the decision that it’s worth looking at before motioning for Spencer to come over after seeing him somewhat idle.

He begins to make his way over from the other end of the parking lot as you stay crouching, waiting for him to come over because you don’t have gloves on. What you don’t see after you turn back around is an officer, an average sized male with blonde hair who appears to be slightly older than you, approaching you at the very same time.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, workin’ for the FBI? You sure yer pretty little brain can handle allathat, darlin’?” A man’s voice; a thick, Texan drawl, coated with a somewhat flirty tone, yet at the very same time, it’s seeping with disdain - ambivalence.

Unfortunately, you’re used to that tone of voice and can recognise it all too well. It’s not going to be the first time you hear it, and it certainly won’t be the last, no matter how progressive times are or how you express yourself.

Standing up, spinning on your heels, ready to give the - officer? that’s poor - a rehearsed response to ensure your own safety, yet keep a boundary, you see Spencer stood behind the average sized, blonde haired man that you don’t recognise. He’s giving the officer one of his looks, his face saying everything, as usual, despite the officer not being able to see it.

Spencer’s fully aware his face is saying everything without it coming out of his lips, he’s completely baffled at how someone could say something so demeaning to anybody, much less you. You’re probably the sweetest person he’s ever met, always so supportive and enthusiastic. He feels protective of you. He doesn’t even realise he does until the words are out.

“She’s perfectly capable of doing her job, if not more so than other male agents, not that it concerns you whatsoever. And I’m perfectly capable of reporting a sexist comment to your supervisor.”

Spencer’s tone is defensive, no, protective, and you can feel heat rushing to your cheeks. It’s the bare minimum - sticking up for someone to a discriminatory comment - and you know that. It’s more so that Spencer hates confrontation, but he’s doing it, and it’s for you. Thank God for the Texas weather masking your fluster as warmth.

With the threat of his supervisor being involved, the officer offers a mumbled apology before walking away, almost as if his ‘tail’ is tucked between his legs, like a scolded puppy. A soft laugh elicits from your lips at the sight. Once the sexist officer has gone, Spencer’s eyes find you, his expression changing to one of concern.

“Hey, you okay? That was demeaning,” the brunette offers, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck, a habit he has, typically more often around you.

“‘M okay. Used to it, unfortunately. Thank you, though, Spence. That was sweet; I know how much you hate confrontation,” you say, giving him a soft smile as you do.

It’s Spencer’s turn to blush now, you calling his actions sweet and that soft smile - god, that smile - flushing his cheeks a light pink while his hand still rubs at the back of his neck.

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me. Anyway, you called me over here. What did you find?”

With his question, you’re quickly reminded of why you did call him over, before the sexist comment and mini confrontation that’d ensued with the officer’s presence, but there’s something you want to do first.

“I don’t need to thank you, but I want to,” you reassure him before stepping forward, moving closer to him, leaning up on your tiptoes, turning your head to face Spencer’s cheek, and slowly placing a chaste kiss to his already pink cheek.

Spencer’s eyes widen before they close, realising what you’re doing and wanting to savour the feeling of your lips on his skin. Unfortunately for him, the brief contact is gone just as quickly as it had started. He opens his eyes again and moves his right hand from the back of his neck to touch his cheek, realising what he did in front of you, and acting as if he was wiping away your lip gloss stain.

“Oh, uh.. thanks. Anyway, the, uhm, you called me over to see…?”

Silently, secretly, he wills the feeling of your lips on his skin to never leave his memory, not even when he’s old and grey, and maybe, just maybe, he wishes that you’ll be by his side when he is.

[wheeboo]

pamper | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which you give your boyfriend a bath. PAIRING. lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. chan gets... naked. yeah, suggestive undertones, slight allusions to sex, terms of endearment, just pampering (and teasing) chan :( because he deserves it WORD COUNT. 2k

notes: there's this reddit post that occasionally comes up when i scroll thru pinterest abt a guy's girlfriend giving him a bath and how much he felt loved from it :(( idk why it stuck w me i just find it so so cute adfjldsfj

"Take off your clothes."

Chan's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mouth dropped to the floor at your sudden bold request.

"You want me to what?" His voice cracks mid-sentence as he feels the rush of heat already painting his cheeks. He's staring at as if you've just asked him to commit a crime.

You roll your eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, babe. I just want to give you a bath because you smell like a gym locker room."

Chan blinks at you like your words aren't fully processing in his brain, still frozen in place.

"I-I can just shower. Alone. You know... like a normal person," he mumbles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You smirk, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Where's the fun in that? Can I not pamper my boyfriend every once in a while?"

Chan opens his mouth to argue, but when he catches sight of the way you're standing there, arms crossed and giving him that playful, yet determined look, his words fall short at the end of his tongue, shoulders slumping like he's accepting defeat.

He lets out a sigh, and you watch as he starts to pull off the maroon-coloured hoodie he was wearing over his head, the fabric briefly getting caught on his head before he yanks it off, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. His eyes flit nervously to you, waiting for any sign of judgment, but you’re just watching him with a teasing smile.

"Stop staring at me like that," Chan mutters nervously, and you can see the way he seems to shrink in his shell under your gaze.

"Like what?" You quip playfully, stepping a bit closer to him.

"Like..." he starts, face turning even redder, deeper than the colour of his hoodie. "Like you're... I dunno𑁋gonna pounce on me or something."

"I will pounce on you if you don't get your clothes off in the next two minutes."

"I𑁋Fine," Chan grumbles, giving into his fate. He strips off his shirt next, revealing his toned torso, defined abs that show all the work he's put into over time, and you can't help but let your gaze linger for just a moment. His muscles flex subtly as he moves, and the way his eyes flicker to yours for reassurance tells you everything you need to know𑁋he's still a little unsure, but he trusts you. He's never once doubted that.

His hands now fumble clumsily with the button of his jeans. You stand there, arms still crossed, watching him with a smirk, your eyes softening as you notice how shy he's being. It's cute𑁋adorable, even𑁋and you can't help but feel a flutter of affection for him.

"This is so weird," he groans out.

"Weird?" You fully step up to him now, placing a set of reassuring hands on his shoulders, before drifting upwards to cup his cheek affectionately. "I'm your partner and you're my boyfriend. We do weird things together, okay? Now, chop, chop. You stink."

There's a breath that escapes him that he doesn't realise he's been holding. Chan leans into your touch instinctively, body relaxing at your words. He gives a nod as you pull away, letting him slip his pants and his boxers off until they pool right at his ankles, and with a bit of a bashful glance toward you, he kicks them off to the side.

You can't help the grin to your face as you ogle him just a little bit, his unease still there but softening with each moment. He's standing in front of you, completely exposed, but there's no judgment in your gaze𑁋only adoration, this need to take care of him after all the times he's done so for you.

"Alright, pretty boy." You face him around, bringing him in the direction of the tub. "Sit."

Your hand grazes against the contours of his back as you flip on the tub, letting warm water slowly fill in from the faucet. Chan doesn't let his eyes stray too far away from you as you pour some bath salts into the water𑁋you really went all out for this, he thinks𑁋the comforting scent of lavender curling through the warm air.

Briefly, Chan hesitates, standing just shy of stepping in, but you can see the small glint of trust in his eyes. Slowly, he steps into the tub, the warm water enveloping his legs and around his torso as he lowers himself. The magic of the water seems to already be working, his muscles soothing the moment he's almost submerged.

A sigh of contentment slips past his lips.

"Not too hot?" You ask as you kneel beside the tub, dipping your hand into the water to check the temperature.

"Hmm, it's... it's good," he breathes out, eyes fluttering to the feeling, leaning back against the tub. "It's perfect."

A pleased smile spreads across your face. Reaching for the loofah, you squirt some body wash on it, taking a moment to simply admire him.

He looks so peaceful, and your heart flutters at the thought of him letting himself be this vulnerable around you. Letting you take care of him in a way that's just so intimate.

"Can you move up a little?" You request lightly. "Gonna start with your back."

As Chan adjusts himself, you lather the loofah up, before tenderly guiding it over his shoulders and down his back, leaving a trail of soapy bubbles in its wake. You let your gaze wash over him, taking in the sight of his bare back and the way the water clings to his skin. You let the loofah glide over the muscles that have worked tirelessly through long hours and hectic days.

Chan's eyes fall to a close, a soft hum of appreciation from your careful touches.

"This... this feels nice," he murmurs lowly. "You're really good at this."

You twitch a brow at his words. "Yeah? I sure hope so." When you finish lathering up his shoulders and back, you clear your throat to ask, "Can I... do your chest now?"

Chan's breath hitches at your question, your voice even coming out shaky and shy as well. His fingers curl slightly against the edge of the tub, and he glances at you, searching your expression for any hint of teasing or judgment. But all he finds is the softness of your smile and the warmth in your eyes.

"Y-Yeah..." he finally answers, turning himself around for you. "Go ahead."

Your heart skips a beat at that, and you dip the loofah back into the water before you tentatively reach out to glide it over his chest. The moment the sponge touches his skin, you feel the subtle shift in his posture𑁋his body tensing slightly, but not out of discomfort.

You can't help the way your eyes flicker down his chest, the way the water traces the fine lines of his abs and the soft curve of his collarbone as you continue your task.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand trails closer to his stomach, and the subtle tension in his body only deepens as you reach further down. He's trying to play it cool, but his face betrays him𑁋flushed, eyes half-lidded, biting his bottom lip. You could only smirk to yourself, a quiet satisfaction bubbling up within you.

"Just relax," You coo reassuringly. "I've got you."

"Easy for you to say," he counters with a pout. "You're not the one who's... naked in a bathtub right now."

You snort at his comment, shaking your head as you rinse out the loofah in the water. "Yeah, right, because I'm the lucky one who gets to enjoy the view."

A half-laugh, half-groan leaves him, and he immediately shifts his gaze away from you, but he knows you'll never let go of the way the tips of his ears are firing up.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters under his breath.

"And I'd be honoured," You retort back, lightly splashing water over him to get rid of the suds all over his body. When you finish, you run a playful hand through the strands of his hair. "Now to tackle this little mop of yours."

Chan relaxes his back against the tub as you lather his hair with some shampoo, deft fingers massaging into his scalp with nothing but care. His eyelids fall to a close once again, and he can't help the thought that he feels just so loved right now.

Never once has he been treated this gently ever, and it makes his heart swell to the brink of overflowing.

Your fingers work their magic, threading through his damp hair and scrubbing away any remnants of stress from his day. Chan leans into your touch without thinking, a low, content hum slipping past his lips. It's a sound so soft, so vulnerable, that it makes your chest tighten.

"You doing okay?" You ask him, angling your head to get a view of his face.

"Mmhm..." he breathes out. "Feels... nice. Really nice."

You smirk at that, slowing your ministrations a little to lean in and press a kiss to the top of his shoulder, and another one to his neck. His head tilts instinctively to your affection, and you smile against his skin, before pressing one last peck to the sweet spot of his nape.

"My pretty boy," You murmur softly, smiling at the way his skin flushes under your affection.

Chan shivers at the words, the sweetness coated on them wrapping around him like a warm blanket. His chest feels tight, but in the best way possible. His limbs feel numb, like they're floating, but he doesn't mind, because he knows that you'll always be there to catch him.

As you start to rinse his hair, he calls out, "Babe?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you." The simple words leaves his mouth all too quick, but then he adds, "Like... so in love with you that I think I might explode one day."

You chuckle at that and give his hair one last rinse before turning your attention back to him.

"Drama queen," You remark teasingly, but the features to your face only soften when his eyes meet yours. There's a twinkle in them that you pinpoint, and it most certainly is not from the light of the bathroom. "I love you too, Channie. More than you know."

For the rest of the bath, it's peaceful. You continue washing and pampering him with tender care, your fingers gently massaging his scalp, his back, his shoulders, and even the spots on his neck that are particularly sensitive.

When you finish, you retrieve a towel and wrap it around your boyfriend, carefully patting him dry. His hair shoots up in all sorts of directions, body shivering slightly from the cold air hitting his skin as you guide him out of the tub. He nearly slips on the wet floor, but you manage to catch him just in time, steadying him by the hips.

"Alright, big baby." You give him a soft squeeze on his waist. "Let me get you some clothes to change into."

When you lead him back into the bedroom, Chan plops down at the edge of the bed, observing as you rummage through the closet and drawers for a fresh set of clothes.

"So..." Chan starts, a thoughtful look painting his face. "When can I return the favour?"

You turn to him with a suspicious brow, tossing a clean pair of boxers to his face. "You're seriously thinking about that right now?"

"I𑁋Not in that way!" Then he bites at his lip, suppressing a boastful grin. "I mean..."

You take a few gigantic steps over to him, tossing his clothes on the bed before placing your hands on his shoulders and leaning in close to his face. He glances down at your lips briefly, throat tightening as you draw nearer to him.

"You can pay me back with kisses and cuddles," You tease, lips hovering just inches before his, and the need only spikes higher within him. "But right now, tonight, it's all about you. So get comfortable, pretty boy."

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[pastelclovds]

hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiiiiiii

Could you please do reader x batboys

The reader gives a surprise kiss while smooshing their cheeks like they’re so kissable. —- The batboys could be rambling or whatever works for you writer.

Dick was going on about something that you had forgotten about as you soon found yourself occupied by how cute his every expression was while telling the story, so much so to the point it was hard to contain just how much it had effected you.

You couldn’t help it as everything within your body urged you forward to squish his cheeks until his lips were puckered like a fish with a hand before planting a series of kisses to his lips and pulling away to a wide eyed Dick.

‘What was that?’ He asks incoherently from your hand squishing his cheeks.

You shrug, unable to find any logic to any of your actions other than wanting to shut him up with a kiss. ‘You were being adorable so I kissed you.’

‘You could’ve just asked for a kiss instead of stealing one, how shameless of you babe.’ He jokes as he rubs his cheeks after you let them go, unable to hide his smile at your spontaneity.

‘Says the one who loves it whenever I kiss him out of the blue and practically begs me to do it again.’ You retorted, recalling the time where Dick would follow you like a lost puppy after kissing him when he came back injured from a night of long patrol, you genuinely thought you were going to loose him and kissed him in the heat of the moment out of fear.

Dick huffs as he leaned himself into you and puckering his lips. ‘Gimme another kiss.’

‘No.’ You said.

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘Stop being mean and withholding my kisses privileges and gimme.’ Dick groaned, pushing his face closer to yours as you chuckled at his goofy attempts.

‘Fine, I guess I can give you another kiss.’ You sighed playfully as you pressed another couple kisses to his lips, falling for Dick’s trap as he was quick to place a hand to the back of your head to keep your lips on his, just as his other hand sneaked to your waist and pull you onto his lap, smiling into your lips in pride.

Jason was telling you about the many, many stories he had regarding himself and Roy whenever they went on patrol together, but you had found yourself lost in the movement of his lips and taking notice of how plush yet slightly chapped they were, yet to you his lips were perfect non the less.

You were very aware of how attached to the hip Jason and Roy were from the times where you were greeted home by both men talking up a storm in the kitchen and laughing as they shared a drink or two.

So you weren’t surprised that at the height of their boredom they would do something stupid or borderline reckless to alleviate said boredom, if anything it was expected at this point but that didn’t meant you wanted either of them to come to harm, which meant that you oftentimes acted as their medic for these situations.

So while Jason was mid sentence you reached a hand to squish his cheeks and and kissed him on the lips before pulling away, rendering him speechless as he blinked once, twice and three times as though he were trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

‘Did-did you just kiss me while I was in the middle of trying to tell a story?’ He’d ask.

‘Yes, yes I did because you were being cute.’ You replied and Jason couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you in close by the waist and resting his head against your forehead.

‘Do you not feel guilty of your crime?’ He asks in a low voice, his pretty eyes occasionally glancing towards your lips, causing a familiar warmth to flood throughout you.

‘No, in fact I’d do it again if given the chance.’ You told him truthfully.

Jason raised a brow. ‘Oh really? Would you then care to steal another kiss from me right here right now?’

‘It’s not stealing when the other person is asking me to kiss him while looking like he wants to kiss me himself.’ You said, seeing the way that he was struggling in holding himself back from acting on his wants and needs for confirmation that you wanted him to kiss you. While you loved the fact that Jason always asked for permission to kiss you, you sometimes wished that he’d just kiss you without a second thought like he had on several occasions, for you’d always say yes whenever it came to Jason.

Jason didn’t say anything but his hands on your waist tightened and you knew he was growing desperate for that kiss and so you squeezed his biceps and leaned in close to his face and said. ‘Take what you want and don’t feel guilty about it Jason, just kiss me already.’

Jason didn’t need to be told twice as within seconds his lips were on yours and everything in your life felt right and perfect the moment his lips touched yours, something you’ve jokingly called the Jason effect in the past, but it couldn’t be truer in this moment as you pressed yourself further into him and allowed yourself to sink into the sweet kiss.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it. 

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support. 

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed. 

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me. 

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you? 

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable. 

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts. 

— Dismissed. 

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want. 

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem. 

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances. 

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect. 

— Sir? Is everything alright? 

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator. 

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t. 

— I thought you’d heard me the first time. 

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now? 

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away? 

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja? 

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you. 

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow. 

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable. 

— You forgot the milk. 

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk. 

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics. 

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty. 

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir. 

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here. 

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office. 

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise. 

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen. 

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay. 

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees. 

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already. 

— Ja. Bra is next. 

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger. 

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though. 

— Braves Mädchen…good girl. 

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target. 

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples. 

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window. 

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen? 

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you. 

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life. 

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation. 

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel? 

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language. 

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him. 

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest. 

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop. 

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide. 

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges. 

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat. 

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created. 

— How do you feel? 

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less. 

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles. 

— My pleasure, Schatzen. 

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain. 

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all. 

[ahollowgrave]

I'm just!!!! AHHHHH. I like her so much.

Updated Odette is so so so so so so so beautiful and precious and darling !!

[obguro]

The Pretty Boy

A KNY x Male Reader —— !?

> Going back to Tanjiro’s trial, what if he had a brother?

> warnings; mentions of blood/stabbing, y/n is a cutie pie, hes also kagayas biggest fan, a tinkle of angst :3

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“Wake up! I said wake up!”

Tanjiro started to hear as he started to awaken. “Hey! Can you even hear me?!” A kakushi known as Goto, yelled as he started to get irritated with the boy laid on the ground. “Come on, get up! Are you going to sleep all day?!” Goto yelled once more. The burgundy haired boy jumped awake at the sound of the yells.

“I heard he was a demon slayer with a demon in tow, so I was expecting someone with more flair. Only for it to be just some ordinary-looking kid? Lame.”

“We must see that this boy is put on trial to be judged!”

“To think that he’s been protecting his siblings who has been turned into demons..What a brave and beautiful display of sibling love!!”

Tanjiro opened his mouth, preparing to speak before he felt his head being shoved into the rocks below him. “Don’t open your mouth until you’re told to do so! You are in the presence of the Hashira!”

Tanjiro opens his eyes to glance at the people who were introduced as The Hashira. “The Hashira.. What is that? Who are these people? Where am I?” Tanjiro’s mind raced with questions that were unanswered. Suddenly a lady with a butterfly hair piece started to speak. “This is the Demon Slayer headquarters. You’re here because you are to be put on trial. Before we start, why don’t you explain the crime you have been accused of-” The lady was then interrupted.

“There’s no need for a trial!”

Flame Hashira; Rengoku Kyojuro.

“Protecting not one, but two demons is a clear violation! We can deal with this on our own! We should end all three of them!” Rengoku stated in a loud tone, before another voice was heard.

“In that case, I’ll decapitate them with style!”

Sound Hashira; Uzui Tengen

“I’ll show you the most dramatic spray of blood you have ever seen!” Uzui stated before another voice was heard.

“No way! You’d really kill such an adorable child!”

Love Hashira; Kanroji Mitsuri

“Such a thought fills my heart with sorrow..” Mitsuri stated with a sad tone, before another voice was heard.

“Alas to see such a pitiful creature as this..”

Stone Hashira; Himejima Gyomei

“I grieve for him. Perhaps it would have been better if he hadn’t been born at all.” Gyomei stated as tears ran down his face, before another voice was heard.

“What was the shape of that cloud again?..”

Mist Hashira; Tokio Muichiro

“What was it called?.. I can’t remember.” Muichiro stated in a low tone while gazing up at the sky.

Tanjiro started to look around trying to spot the box which held his younger and older siblings. Goto noticed this and started to question him. “What are you looking at? Your focus should be on them. They’re the highest ranking swordsmen in the corps.” Tanjiro stared at the 6 people standing before him, before starting to look around again. “Nezuko! Y/N! Where did you take them?” Tanjiro asked out loud, sitting up from his position. He started to call out for his friends as well, before a voice from above was heard.

“Nevermind the boy, what will we do with Tomioka?”

Serpent Hashira; Obanai Iguro

“From what Kocho stated earlier, he is just as guilty for breaking the corps rules. Seeing him without restraints makes me feel ill. What do you have to say for yourself, Tomioka?” Obanai asked while pointed his finger at someone. He was met with silence.

“…”

Water Hashira; Tomioka Giyuu

As Giyuu stayed silent, another voice spoke up for him.

“I think it’s fine, he did come here without any resistance.”

Insect Hashira; Kocho Shinobu

“Let’s come up with a penalty later!” Shinobu stated cheerfully. “What I’m more interested in, is this boys story. He’s been traveling with demons, even as a demon slayer.. I want to hear why. What he did was unquestionably against corps rules!” She kept her gaze on Tanjiro, who then looked at her. Tanjiro let out a gasp of shock, not knowing this information. “Why are you traveling with demons despite being a demon slayer, Tanjiro Kamado? You can take your time, just answer the question.” Shinobu had asked in a confused tone, waiting for the boy to answer.

Tanjiro started to answer the question, only to realize he couldn’t due to the pain from his throat. Shinobu kneeled down in front of him a gourd of water, holding it out to him. “It looks like you need some water.” Tanjiro looked at it before grabbing it with his teeth and drinking it. “It seems you have injured your jaw so please be careful! I added an anesthetic to help with the pain.” Shinobu stated as he gulped down the water. Tanjiro finished the water in a few seconds, feeling some relief. Shinbou spoke up again, “Are you ready to tell us your story now?”

Y/N’s POV — Location: In The Box

As I woke up, I could hear some lady shouting at the person carrying the box Nezuko and I were in.

“Please Master Shinazugawa! I must ask you to put down that box!”

So his name is Shinazugawa?.. Pretty name.. I wonder where Tanjiro is..

I glanced at my younger sister, who was still asleep.

Nezuko.. You’re okay.. You had me worried when we were fighting that Lower Moon.. He was such a poor soul.. I hope he was able to meet his family in the afterlife.

I started to zone out, thinking back to the fight that occurred a while ago. I guess I got too distracted by my thoughts because the next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain through my shoulder. I couldn’t help but let out a large muffled yelp from the sudden pain.

Glancing down, I noticed a green and black colored sword going through Nezuko’s and I’s shoulder. I looked at her with a worried expression basically asking, “are you alright?” She nodded a little bit, still wincing from the pain.

“Anyone who harms my siblings answers to me! I don’t give a fuck if you’re a hashira or not!”

Oh there you are Tanjiro.. I’m so glad you’re okay.

“Oh how very nice for you!” A deep voice says with a chuckle. The sword was then ripped out of the box completely. I let out a gasp as blood started to drip down my arm and chest, slowly regenerating.

“Cease this! The master will be arriving shortly!” Another voice shouted.

There was a loud sound before I could feel the box hitting the floor, accidentally hitting my head on the side of the box. I could hear a commotion from outside the box, consisting of multiple gasps and sweet sound of a giggle followed by a “pardon me.”

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you shouldn’t be a hashira!” I heard Tanjiro yell from the box.

Tanjiro… I let out a smile. You’re still protecting us no matter what… You’re the best younger brother anyone could have.

“You little..I’ll destroy you!” The same deep voice that was holding the box earlier was heard. Before anything else could happen, a unfamiliar feminine voice spoke up, “The master of the mansion has returned.”

Master of the mansion? Where are we right now?..

A gentle, warming voice then spoke, “My beloved children, I thank you for coming here this day.” I could hear different pairs of feet walking, then the same voice spoke again, “Good morning to you all, the weather is strikingly nice today. Perhaps with a blue sky?”

His voice puts me at ease.. It’s so gentle and comforting.. I wonder who that is

“Finding ourselves here at the semiannual gathering with all the same faces, It brings me joy.” He spoke before the box was hit again. I then heard Shinazugawa speak up, “I’m pleased as well to see you in good health as well, master.”

I’m so sleepy.. Why am I so tired? It shouldn’t hurt to take a small nap… My thoughts faded as I started to doze off, falling into a dream.

Y/N’s POV — Location: In the Dream

I opened my eyes and looked around, noticing it was nothing but a black void. A voice spoke up behind me, “Y/N dear..”

I turned around to see a lady. A lady with black hair and purple eyes. My mother.

“Mother…” I let out in a soft tone. She smiled at me, holding her arms open. I knew what this meant. I would always give her hugs.

I then walked right into her arms, starting to tear up. Why wasn’t i the one who died?.. why couldn’t you be the one who lived?… She wrapped her arms around me, feeling the same as it used to. Warm. Comforting.

“My son, I am so proud of you. You protected your siblings.” She stated as she started to run her fingers through my (h/c) hair. “Please keep making me proud and continue to protect them..” I let of a nod against her shoulder.

“I promise I will.”

Y/N’S POV — Location: In the Box

I woke up from my dream immediately from the scent of blood.

Was someone hurt?

I open my eyes to see crimson blood dripping into the cracks of the box. I look over at Nezuko to see her starting to drool through her muzzle.

“Nezuko.. calm down.” I let out in soft whisper, hoping to calm her hunger.

“Hey demons! It’s time for your dinner!” I heard Shinazugawa shout from outside the box. Nezuko started to claw at the box and let out growls of hunger. “Don’t hold back. Show us your true colors.” Shinazugawa spoke again.

Another voice spoke up, this one unfamiliar. “It’s the daytime, no good doing this now. It will only show up in the shadows.”

I don’t like where this is going..

“Master, Please forgive me for the discourtesy I’m about to commit.” Shinazugawa spoke from the same spot. I could feel the box get lifted and slammed onto the ground once again. The same sword from earlier stabbed into the box again, going through the shoulder of Nezuko then out again.

I’m starting to get irritated.. He keeps injuring her… I look at Nezuko worried.

“Stop it!” I heard Tanjiro yell.

Suddenly, the door of the box was opened from the outside. Nezuko started to stand up, growing to her full size.

This is such a pain..

I look up from the box at who I assumed was Shinazugawa. White Hair. Violet Eyes. Scars Everywhere. I took in his appearance, not affected by his blood in the slightest.

I don’t have the desire to drink blood..but Nezuko can’t help it.. You got this, honey.

I heard Tanjiro yell out our younger sisters name. I look at Nezuko to see her stop struggling but had a lost look on her face. She stood there for a few seconds before turning away with a look of digust.

The comforting voice from earlier spoke up again, “Tell me what happened.” The unfamiliar feminine voice then explained.

“There it is, undeniable proof Nezuko won’t attack a human.” The soft voice explained to the other voices I heard prior to falling asleep I assume.

Nezuko looked down at me and I just let out a closed eyed smile at her. Then Shinazugawa spoke up, “What about you?! Huh?! You know you want it!” I look up at him to see him glaring down at me.

I guess it’s my turn.. I stood up, growing to my full size.

3rd Person POV

The other Hashiras shifted their focus to the other demon that started to come out of the box, taking in its appearance in shock. It was a male with (h/l) (h/c) hair tied up, (e/c) with slitted pupils, and he was dressed up in a black kimono. He was the definition of pretty. They noticed something different though, there was a gentle look in his eyes.

The (h/c) male looked at Shinazugawa, before reaching for his bamboo muzzle. The other hashiras reached for their swords just in case. They watched as the demon took the muzzle out of his mouth, letting it rest around his neck.

“Are you alright?.. You’re bleeding.” The males voice came out soft. Shinazugawa stared at the male in confusion and shock at the question. He then let out a growl of anger, “Why are you asking me that?! Why aren’t you affected by my blood?!” Y/N just simply smiled at him slightly before reaching into his kimono, pulling out a roll of gauze. “You shouldn’t injure yourself.” Y/N stated as he gently took the white haired males arm, starting to wrap the gauze around the open wound. Shinazugawa was too shocked to speak or move away from the male.

Y/N finished wrapping the olders arm, then he turned towards the others. The first thing he noticed was a man dressed in striped clothing was pinning down his younger brother to the floor with his elbow.

“Excuse me, the man with the snake.. Would you mind letting my brother go please? Neither Nezuko or I are not going to attack any of you.” Y/N asked in a soft tone to the other male.

Obanai scoffed and replied in a harsh tone, “No way, I’m not taking orders from a de-” He was interrupted by the tall male inside the house, known as Kagaya Ubuyashiki. “Obanai.. Please release the boy.” Obanai stared, wide eyed at his master but followed the orders given.

Y/N looked at the Master, noticing the sickness that was on his face. No matter, he still thought the male in front of him was gorgeous.

“Do tell me what happened with the other demon..” Kagaya spoke curiously. One of his daughters spoke up from next to her father, “The male demon smiled at Shinazugawa before wrapping his wounds for him, the blood seemingly not affecting him at all.”

“Well my children.. That proves that Y/N nor Nezuko will not harm humans.” Kagaya let out a soft smile towards his Hashiras. “I hope this will be accepted by all that these two demons will stay and work for the Demon Slayer corps. Tanjiro go out and defeat a Twelve Kizuki, do that and you’ll be accepted by all.”

Tanjiro sat up, looking at the master. “Alright! Me and my siblings will defeat Muzan Kibutsuji!” Y/N covered his face in embarrassment at his younger brothers bold claim, knowing well that they barely survived their last fight. “Let’s start with defeating a twelve kizuki first.” Kagaya said towards the boy with a slight chuckle.

The other hashiras let out some giggles as Tanjiro bows his head in embarrassment. “We have concluded our business with you, Tanjiro.” Kagaya stated. Shinobu then requested that the three siblings would stay at her estate, Kagaya agreeing.

Y/N walked over to the shared box, shrinking to fit in with his sister. Climbing in the box, Y/N shut the door behind him. The kakushi lifted the box, carrying it away towards The Butterfly Mansion, not before apologizing to the master for the intrusion.

Y/N held his sister close as he fell asleep with one thought in his mind.

“Everything will be okay, your big brother is here.”

[benispunk]

Lucky Number

logan howlett x reader

Logan wants to know why 12 is Y/N's lucky number. He might be falling in love all over again.

TW: language

Masterlist

\I/

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening. Not because she could finally relax, have some time for herself, enjoy the silence of her room without, most of the time, anyone in the mansion interrupting it… Well, maybe yes, it was that. But that’s not the point. 

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening because she could finally spend time with Logan outside of the school’s routine, out of everyone's eye sights, just the two of them against the world.

And this evening wasn’t any different. She absolutely adored those moments with him as he looked and sounded so relaxed, and she felt as if she was falling more and more in love with him every single time.

She had bought a bottle wine and some appetizers that she had hidden in the kitchen all day, just for their special night, and Logan would do the same. Even though their relationship was official to everyone in the mansion, they always felt the need to sneak into each other’s rooms like teenagers in love.

One time, Logan was discreetly walking towards her door with two glasses in hand and his bottle of whiskey under his arm when he heard someone cough at the end of the corridor. He turned around, startled. Scott had been standing there, probably waiting to catch one of the two lovers and embarrass them. Logan stood there, saying nothing before flipping him off and entering Y/N’s room. 

She sat curled up on her bed, a glass of red wine in hand, as she lazily picked at a plate of cheese and crackers between sips. Logan sat next to her, leaning against the headboard, holding his own glass of whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could stay there for days, listening to her talk, laugh, watching her smile. Anything that had to do with her, he needed to be there. 

They had been playing a ridiculous card game for the last 20 minutes where you had to pick a number between one and twenty and then pick two cards, the closest to their number wins.

They were laughing again when Logan leaned forward with another challenge, his grin cocky. “Alright, one more time.”

Y/N smiled wide and quickly answered, “Twelve!”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her this time, his smirk softening into something more curious. “Again with twelve?” he asked, amused. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve picked twelve.”

Y/N blinked. “No, it’s not,” she said, a little too defensively, taking a bigger sip of wine. Maybe she should slow down with the drinking part.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, it is. You even won with that number.” He gave her a knowing look. “And now this. You pickin' twelve on purpose or somethin’? Are you cheating?”

She gasped at the accusation, « How dare you accuse me of such a crime? A girl can’t have a lucky number anymore. » She sipped some more wine dramatically, which made Logan laugh. How much she loved that sound.

Logan’s grin widened as he leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Lucky number, huh? What makes twelve so special?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Y/N felt her breath catch slightly, the warmth from the wine making her feel just a bit too relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she'd been picking twelve that much. It just... came out. It was her lucky number indeed. And now, Logan was asking about it. Oh no.

She gave a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, you know… twelve’s just... a good number. Balanced. You know, 1 plus 2 equals 3, and… uh, three’s cool."

Logan tilted his head, staring at her with an amused expression that said he wasn’t buying a word of it. « Then why not pick three? »

She could feel the heat rising to her face even more. He was too perceptive. She tried to shrug again, but it came off awkward. « I—I don’t know! Twelve just feels… lucky, I guess."

But Logan wasn’t letting it go. Of coure, he wasn’t. He leaned in even closer, his voice a low tease. "You’re hiding something." His tone was playful, but his eyes held a tenderness that made her feel even more flustered. "Why twelve, darlin’?"

Y/N's heart raced as she realized there was no escaping the truth. She hadn’t even thought about it consciously until now, but of course, twelve was special. It was his birthday— October 12. And the more she thought about it, the more it embarrassed her. It felt too sweet, too sentimental to admit out loud, but Logan's gaze was gentle, and she knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.

She cleared her throat and bit her lip, looking anywhere but at him. "It's... It’s your birthday. » she finally mumbled, barely above a whisper, still trying to avoid his eyes. "October 12. That’s why it’s... my lucky number."

There was a pause— a silence that stretched just long enough for her to regret saying it, but when she glance up at Logan, she saw something different in his expression. His face softened, his eyes widening just a bit before something warm and quiet settled in them. For a second, he seemed speechless, which rarely happened with Logan.

« My birthday?" he asked, his voice softer than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Y/N nodded, feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed. « Yes. I’m sorry this is so embarrass— » 

“Put your glass down,” he said firmly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, confusion clouding her expression.

Without missing a beat, Logan took her glass from her hand and placed it gently on the nightstand beside his own. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to pause as they melted into each other, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. Every worry, every ounce of embarrassment faded away as Y/N felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his lips mixing with the sweetness of the wine on hers.

Her lucky number was his birthday. How fucking wonderful. What did he even do to deserve that? To deserve her. His grip on her tightened slightly, pulling her closer as if he wanted to fuse their bodies together, to ensure that nothing could ever come between them. How lucky he was.

When they finally broke away, he held her gaze with a softness that made her heart race. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment hung between them. Y/N could see the sincerity in his gaze, the way he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Her heart ached with love. But he wasn’t done.

His hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You keep doin’ this—showin’ me how much I mean to you… » He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, « I’m falling for you all over again,” he confessed, his voice low and raw. 

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, a smile breaking through her earlier embarrassment. « See why twelve’s my lucky number? »

Logan laughed softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before he suddenly lunged forward, pinning her down onto the bed. Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he captured her lips in a quick kiss. The warmth of his body over hers ignited sparks of electricity that left her breathless.

As they broke apart, he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with adoration. The warmth between them crackled with unspoken affection, and Y/N felt her heart swell. If he was her lucky charm, she was his too.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. Logan leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, their lips brushing together softly. The moment was pure magic. 

Y/N felt happiness enveloping her, knowing that luck wasn’t just about numbers; it was about sharing her life with him.

XXX