Fuck Yo Zodiac Sign. Describe Your Personality Using Three Haikyuu Characters. Ill Go First:

fuck yo zodiac sign. describe your personality using three haikyuu characters. I’ll go first:

"I Know What They're Thinking."

I'm not sure if I want to call this part 7 or part 6.5, regardless I'm posting it. I feel like I say this every time, but it picks up after this. Inspiration comes and goes these days, so yall just gon have to bear with me.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC)

Rating: PG-13; warnings: obsessive Bruce Wayne, sneaky Bruce Wayne, chipped nails, women's clothing sizing mention, cursing, barely edited.

Taglist[OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole1219 @ctrllovre

Her nails had been chipping since that night she got arrested. Dove couldn’t tell you when it first started. Maybe that night in the cold rain, pressed between the unregulated vigilante and the rough asphalt of the city. Maybe during the unconscious hours that followed that, when her body was moved to the soulless gray precinct. Maybe when damaged palms repeatedly smacked the steel table, straining to convey her innocence to the detective. 

Maybe afterward, when Dove had been rudely escorted to a cell, crammed already with other convicted bodies. When she had very little room to breathe, even less to turn and gather her bearings without hearing some sob story or boast fest. Perhaps a chip of mauve nail polish flaked off when that erratic woman stalked through the cell like a predator, grasped her hand to offer her a proposition. 

There were infinite possibilities when her nail polish began chipping, but Dove knew for sure that after her mild mind break, the polish had shed like a snake's skin. With it went her armor. Dove felt out of control, the itch she struggled with for so long came roaring back, filling her head with roaring thunder. 

It made her restless. 

She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Everywhere she went, Dove could swear she smelled the sweet slightly nauseating odor of laughing gas and sweat. It made it hard to stay focused, and her an easy target for the police. Quickly the young woman earned the title ‘insubordinate’. Dove never knew loneliness like this before.

But then Bruce answered her call. And for a moment that dark feeling faded away.

She wasn’t prepared for it to return tenfold three months later.

***

Dove couldn’t help but fiddle with the buttons on the jacket he draped over her shoulders. The way it settled on her tense shoulders like a blanket soothed a toddler, it carried an inexplicable sense of security. The warmth of his body had remained trapped in the silk-lined fabric, thawing her from the horrors of being confined like an animal. 

A firm hand clasped the roundness of her shoulder, dragging her into the moment. The bustling movements and repetitive barking that characterized the police station rammed into her all at once. 

Her grip tightened on the button caught between her fingertips. 

“Ready to go?” No. Yes. Would the evening sun burn her after being deprived of it for so long?

“Yes.” Bruce led her through the corridor, out the door, and to the cherry red convertible that let all the sight-having citizens of Gotham know who was gracing their dangerous streets. The corvette played the perfect chariot for the golden Prince of Gotham, and Dove, in all her times of riding passenger, had never felt more unworthy. 

“Dove, are you okay?” Bruce watched her, her sullen attitude polluting the air around her. He hated seeing her like this, scared and broken. Luckily he knew how to fix it, but it would have to wait until the prerequisites were met. “You can talk to me, I won’t judge you.”

“I just,” her dam began to break. “Don’t know what to say. I-I don't know how to thank you. This was, you, what you did, how do I repay you?”

She couldn’t bear the look of pity she knew would be painted on his face, so burning eyes fell to her lap, watching her idle hands squirm in her lap. Her body flinched in the premium leather seat when a pale hand pierced her personal bubble to settle her restless fingers. 

“There is nothing to repay. You are someone I care about, I would do anything to help you.”

Dove looked at him head-on and opened her mouth to protest, to demand him to name his price because she’s lived long enough to know that nothing is free, but the gleam in his eyes stopped her before she could start. Even without getting to know him for the past few months, she had enough data in her brain to know Bruce Wayne was a stubborn person that came from a long line of equally stubborn individuals. 

By the flare of her nose, the billionaire knew the dragon had been defeated for now. Now for the next phase of his master plan. 

Dove’s demeanor slowly thawed out the further he drove them away from the precinct. Tense shoulders began to droop, twitching fingers calmed, her painfully stiff spine began to slouch, the fog of despair dissipated. The sullen woman worked up the energy to shift her focus from her lap to the window, watching the way the world passed by. 

Bruce had to resist jerking the steering wheel when a giggle escaped her cracked lips. 

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing to your billionaire mind. It always amuses me when people do double takes when they see this car. You can’t see their eyes but I know what they’re thinking. ‘Is that fucking Bruce Wayne?’ I always thought that when I saw you on my commute.”

Her tired voice perked up the longer she spoke, it warmed his ears. “Oh yeah?”

“The only other person that causes this reaction is Batman. He moves so quick and wears all that black so you can barely see him-”

Bruce slowed the car down to a stop as he waited for the light to change green. His jaw longed to clench and grind his molars against their opposites. It took no brain power to know what made his passenger stop her sentence. 

He hated that that was how she met his alter ego. The way her usually bright brown eyes were filled with nothing but panic and fear, fear of him, haunted him for days. He lost sleep thinking about how he was the one that turned her in, the reason she was detained in a cold cell downtown. 

It was all his fault and she didn’t know. Nor could she, not right now when things were so precarious. Bruce promised himself he would tell her soon, he had to. By his own hand, Bruce had trapped himself in a rock and a hard place. A splat of rain hitting the windshield broke the brooding man out of his thoughts.

“It never stops raining here. You know, I almost decided to move to Metropolis after hearing how bad the weather is in Gotham.” Dove said as her finger chased after a lone raindrop sliding down the tinted window, bare of the colored nail polish he remembered seeing the night of her arrest. 

“Oh yeah? What made you change your mind?”

“Bills. Everything is expensive in Metropolis. Rent, life insurance, cable, even car insurance and I don’t own a car! I calculated those numbers and signed the lease to my apartment the same day.”

“Gotham is cheap?”

“It's run down, Bruce. At least where I am. The same-sized apartment I got now is double the price in Metro. And it's not like rats are coming out the wall sockets or nothing, there’s too much crime for the landlords to charge an arm and a leg like they do in Metropolis.”

The light conversation distracted Dove from her demons. Instead of being mentally caged in the cell she could revisit the apartments she toured in the city before picking the one near Sheldon Station. 

“I think you just passed my turn, Bruce. Its a right on Rucha, remember-”

“Dove.” He spoke her name tensely. Bruce didn’t have to but for her sake, squeezed the wheel and twisted his grip to tell his unease. Like it pained him to deliver the next bit of news when it actually sent his heart racing with fervor. “I can’t in good conscious leave you alone there.”

Plump limps separated to express her shock. Before she could begin to protest, her savior put his hand up to stop her arguments. 

“Please, listen to me, Dove. I-” He sniffed his nose, seeming to hold back emotions he was too refined to express in public like this. “I don’t know who exactly you’ve gotten yourself involved with,”

Guilt coiled in her stomach like a cobra. Oh. Was she that awful and inconsiderate? For all he knew, Bruce could be getting himself involved with the biggest goons in Gotham for her sake. Was she really that self-absorbed? What was Dove thinking? Involving him in her plight. He was only trying to help her, the least she could do was hear him out. 

Paying no mind to the moving car, Dove failed to feel the increase in acceleration as she reached to touch his hand, soothe his mind, and coax out his thoughts. Times like this she wished he grew up normal, somewhere where showing emotions was okay.

“I don’t care either. I just want you safe. And the best way to do that is if you stay with me. At the manor.”

“Bruce-”

“I have the best security on earth. There isn’t another house for miles. No one pops up without a month’s notice. Alfred is trained in five forms of combat. You’ll be safe here. And that way, I won’t have to worry about you.” He ended that confession with a deep sigh, driving the point home. 

He cared so much about her, Dove realized. Her hips shifted if the premium leather seats. Outside the car, the beauty of Lemmars Park went ignored. The bridge that connected Uptown and the outskirts of the city loomed in the distance. Its overwhelming size didn't help to ease Dove’s nerves. She couldn’t even begin to see the other side of the bridge. The clouds and rain blocked what little light the streetlights provided the public. 

She wouldn't have to stay forever. Just a couple days, until her trial ended and her body found itself in the county jail or back on her worn mattress in her apartment she worked so hard to make cozy. 

Is Bruce asking for that much? A little staycation in the manor, being cared for and doted on by his lovely butler. Laughing and bonding with her friend. Learning new sides of his personality of the always posh and primped Bruce Wayne, sides that didn’t fit into his carefully molded character. Briefly, she wondered if he was the type to walk around in his draws or not.

Dove cast her eyes to his side profile. His jaw had tensed since he finished pleading his case. They neared the bridge. His grip on the wheel wavered before tightening until the leather squeaked.  Her hand had yet to move from his other. 

“I need to go home.”

Bruce cursed, out loud and at himself for falling for sucha stubborn mule of a woman. Was his tone not sappy enough? Should he have gone for a higher-pitched voice, and rubbed his jaw to showcase his distress instead of periodically gripping the wheel? It couldn’t be too late now. One last chance. 

“Dove-” 

“To pack up some clothes. Unless you have women’s clothing in a size 18 already in the guestroom’s closet?” Dove cracked the tiniest smile, those pretty crooked teeth lighting up the car. Bruce felt his chest concave. No, he didn’t have any clothing prepared for her in the guestroom.

Because he put the items in the master closet, next to his. 

“That wasn’t funny.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“How?”

“How about some of my special étouffée for breakfast tomorrow?” The convertible dipped as it rolled off the streets of Uptown onto the paved smoothed concrete of the bridge. They were almost home. 

“Can’t wait.” Dove could feel the honesty in his response. Her heart skipped a beat.

Oh, dear.

I think about this fic often

Boss.

Inspired by: Just a neighbor by @ clumsy-jiminie.

Notes: There will be a prelude, ya'll know I like to work backwards. I haven't been inspired to write for so long, I'm so excited rn.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Tiny (black fem OC); Rod Reiss x Tiny

Rating: R | Minors DNI

Warnings: infidelity, oral (f receiving), voyeurism, dirty talk, cuckolding(?) cigarettes

The sound of mattress springs creaking and a woman’s moans reaching a crescendo is what greeted Rod Reiss home after a long day at the office. The kitchen light Tiny usually left above the dining table to spotlight his cold dinner was out, blanketing the room in darkness and the ominous smell of cooked pork. Placing his briefcase down in the foyer, Rod rubbed his crinkled hands along the side of his weary face.

Above him, the creaking of the mattress lost its rhythm as a man grunted his wife’s name over and over.

It’s been a long day.

Rod took his time, palming the wall for the light switch and removing the foil cover of his late dinner. The sound of cutlery connecting with the expensive white china Tiny insisted he buy in the first year of their union was the only noise breaking up the long stretches of silence. After ten minutes of filling his gut, the undeniable smell of tobacco wafted through the long halls of the house, intruding into every room and sinking into every crevice.

Tiny must be knocked out by now.

Heavy boots made no attempt to conceal the even-paced steps traveling down the spiral staircase, the scent of cheaply harvested tobacco drawing closer.

The muscles in his neck spasmed as Rod tried to suppress the instinct to cower. The presence of his wife’s lover will forever make his stomach turn.

“I thought I heard the door earlier.” If Levi picked up on the unease his presence brought in, he didn’t let it show. Rod watched the younger man with envy as he strutted around the kitchen, in the house his hard-earned money paid for, fiddling around the stocked jars and baskets for a post-coitus snack, cigarette hanging loosely between two fingers.

“Such a shame you weren’t here when she cooked it. Pork is always best served hot.”

The knife in his Rod’s hand nearly snapped from the tight hold it was under. For a second, Rod wondered what the utensil would look like submerged in the meat of Levi’s neck. Would the silver of the metal look as good as he imagined if it was stained red with blood instead of the clear juices from the cut of meat?

“I don’t think Tiny will have the energy to walk to your marriage bed tonight, I really wore her out. Which is good for you, she’s always in a better mode after a good fuck.” This time, Levi spared his employer a coy smile, one cheek puffed out to make room for the buttered roll he decided on.

The knife clanged against the porcelain, the plate could break for all Rod cared. His stomach recoiled and revolted, unable to take any more of this farce of a civil conversation. He knew the young man only did this to get under his skin, skin that should be thick after the past year. It didn’t matter.

His pride couldn’t take it. It couldn’t bear the sight of the lowlife miscreant in his house, eating his food, fucking his wife, and gloating in front of his face with the smell of dried sweat and arousal clinging to his lean frame.

As if sensing the older man’s increasing ire, Levi stuffed the remains of his snack in his mouth.

“Goodnight, boss.” His steps slapped against the marble floor, up the stairs until he reached the room where Tiny slept, blissfully unaware of the maelstrom she was at the center of.

Rod left the dirty plate in the sink and took his time going up the stairs, following the steps of his junior, pausing briefly before the doorframe of Tiny’s personal room. The entrance was wide open, allowing Rod’s tired blue eyes to take in the sight.

The ebony stands of Levi’s hair were clutched tightly between Tiny’s fingers as his head nuzzled into the crevice between her plush thighs. There was no blanket to cover the supple flesh of Tiny’s breasts jutting into the air as her back arched off the silk-covered furniture.

The whines that dripped off her tongue called to him like a siren, his feet sinking into the floor until moving from the spot became impossible.

“Levi, Levi, Levi…” The name of another man filled his ears like wax. Her hips bucked as Levi dove deeper into her cunt, its wetness mixing with the saliva of his mouth to create a symphony of vulgarity.

“Ah, there baby. Mm…”

Levi’s hand moved in tandem with his mouth to work Tiny into a frenzy, plugging her hole with three long fingers with his tongue focusing on her swollen clit, showering it with all the attention it needed.

The room in his slacks decreased the longer Rod watched the two in the act. He had half a mind to sit down on the nearby chair inside the room. As he weighed the pros and cons of his options, Levi scattered kisses on his wife’s glistening brown skin, trailing from her core to her hipbone, up her soft stomach until his lips formed a suction around a pert nipple.

“Yes, Levi, yes!”

Finally, their lips smacked together as he drank in her wanton cries, all the while his fingers continued to plunge into her pussy. Tiny’s hands marked her lover’s shoulders and back, turning the alabaster skin red in the wake of her nails. One of her hands disappeared into the mess between them, wrapping around Levi’s cock by the way his body jolted.

“Fuck baby, You wanna get fucked? Need me to fill you up again? My fingers not good enough for your greedy pussy?” Tiny whimpered as he increased the speed of his thrusts. “You know your husband is home now?”

“Aah,”

“Oh, but you don’t care do you? Still want me? I’ll teach him to not leave his little needy wife at home with the help.” Though strained with lust, Levi’s voice came out loud and clear as if he knew Rod had stopped at the door and was unable to look away. “Make a mess for me and I’ll fuck you ‘til you break.”

The gush of wetness leaving her hole was audible even with the increased volume of her cries. Levi’s mouth trailed her collarbone, his low tone talking her through the intense orgasm lighting up her nerves.

“Keep your eyes open, princess. M’not done with you.” Her head shifted as the waves of pleasure slowed down. Rod gulped, his focus captured by the sight of his wife lifeless on the bed. Her legs spread further on the mattress as Levi situated himself between them. “Hold your legs up, Tiny.”

Wordlessly, she followed his command, her palms cupping the back of her knees, securing her legs to her chest and out of the way for Levi.

“You listen so well to me,” He mumbled, providing imagery for Rod who could not see from outside the room. The smack of Levi’s flesh against her wet folds sent shivers down the older man’s spine, envy filling his bones as his employee prepared to take his wife for himself once more. “Bet you wouldn’t feel this good for your husband.”

“Levi, more!” At her plea, Levi moved like the tide, pushing and pulling himself through her depths, dragging out noises that were sure to follow Rod into his dreams that night. The muscles in his thighs and ass flexed as Levi worked, groans building in his throat and falling out haphazardly.

Their lips met again, strips of flesh melding together as he riled Tiny up with his touch. Their kiss broke and she took the opportunity to breathe in new air to her overworked lungs. The erection straining under his Rod’s layers of clothes became more painful the longer he watched the pair succumb to ecstasy. He grunted along with them, knees neat buckling as Tiny called out Levi’s name.

“Louder, let that pathetic fuck know who’s making his wife scream like this.” The slap of flesh became harsher, louder, less controlled as the cliff drew closer. Tiny’s husband watched on, too entranced to notice the quick glances thrown his way as he crossed the threshold.

By the time Levi tired, Rod had a growing stain on the front of his pants. The oppressive atmosphere lightened as Tiny returned to slumber, womb filled and head empty all thanks to Levi.

Said man had returned to the discarded cigarette he left in the ashtray, blowing smoke into the humid air. Ash stained the white silk sheets but he paid no mind to that.

“You had fun watching, boss?” Levi addressed around the stick hanging off his lip. He didn’t turn to look the man in the eye, already knowing a frowning face would be the response. When he didn’t hear the soles of Rod’s feet slap against the floor, Levi took another drag and held it.

Blue eyes met in the darkness, one clouded by the release of tobacco smoke. “Get some sleep, Boss. you got a long day tomorrow. I’ll take care of her while you’re gone.”

yes.

The way he watches you riding him. Two hands behind his head, the rest resting on your thighs. A smug smile on his face, enjoying the sight in front of him. Your tits bouncing or the way you try to steady yourself on his massive thighs. Sukuna will let his tummy tongue come out on occasion to tease the sensitive bud between your legs.

It‘s a sight for him, but your efforts bring him pleasure just in a limited way. It‘s foreplay for him really, watching you bounce on his dicks, barely functioning in your head. It turns him on to see you struggle on his lengths, because he knows that‘s just the beginning.

The King‘s hands on your thighs slowly trace up your figure to give your tits a soft squeeze. You whimper, still trying to bounce.

„Shhhh“ he coos, letting his hands wander to your back. Your body instantly replies to his command and stops bouncing. Mindlessly you look into his face, admiring his beautiful features, panting. His smile grows. Enough with playing.

The hands on your back push you down effortlessly onto his chest, your face now resting on his muscular pecs. Soft. You can hear his heartbeat. Badum… Badum… You notice it‘s a bit slower than the heart of a human.

„So obedient“ he chuckles lowly, his hands slowly wander down to your ass, grabbing your cheeks harshly, spreading them. His other two hands find their way around you, caging you in, pressing you more onto his broad chest. You can‘t move, his hold on you tight. Sukuna shifts under you. Repositioning his legs, supporting himself on his feet now. Pulling his lengths out slowly before he rams them back into you as he starts to truly fuck you.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

Hitting it right every time. Leaving precum in your dripping pussy, fluids mixing, flesh rubbing. His pecs harden under your face from his activity. Your hands find his biceps, grabbing onto the tattooed ring, holding on for dear life. The sweat forming between your bodies and the wetness that already lingers between your thighs only supporting the lust you already feel for your King. You can’t help but moan and salivate onto his chest. Him holding you like that, caging you in like that, fucking you like that, you love being used by him.

Balls slapping against your skin. He‘s fucking you so deep and good. You notice his heart rate rising, his lengths throbbing, his breath quicken. Mindlessly you start to draw circles with your tongue on his left nipple, trying your best to pleasure the King to the fullest. You didn‘t expect the deep moan that rumbles through his chest, vibrating on your cheek. You can‘t see his face, but the responses of his body tell you so much. Sukuna loves you being his little cunt that he can use and fuck and ruin. He goes harder, harder, harder until the sounds start getting more and more juicy, more wet. His growls and snarls and groans only growing louder.

This is the fuck he truly needs.

getting close to a follower milestone…how should we celebrate??

time to post and run? yeah, that's what I'll do. see yall tomorrow