merelydaydreaming

[merelydaydreaming]

meian shugo is a relatively private man. with no personal social media accounts to his name, his presence on the internet starts and ends with msby's publicity.

his teammates know him as their captain. they know his leadership style and his tactics on the court. they know his favorite post-game izakaya and that he's a morning person. the rest of his life remains a mystery to the jackals.

—but everyone on the team knows that he's married.

there's a thick gold band that rests on his ring finger, methodically threaded onto the chain around his neck and tucked beneath his jersey in the locker room before each game.

atsumu catches him smiling down at his phone sometimes, lower lip tucked between his teeth in a boyish way they've never seen on the court.

bokuto swears there's always a hint of floral perfume that clings to meian's jacket before he shrugs it off.

hinata caught him buying flowers once—a enormous bouquet of roses.

and it's this one morsel of knowledge that has them all staring dumbfounded after a game as they catch their captain chatting with a journalist.

you're leaning into him as you giggle at something he says, and he doesn't pull away. he nudges one of your heels with his sneaker, one finger reaching out to hook on the camera strap that hangs around your neck. there's a pencil tucked behind your ear, and he plucks it out, grabbing the notebook in your hands and writing something down on one of its pages. you laugh again.

atsumu gapes. hinata and bokuto exchange alarmed glances. because yes, you're beautiful, and they'd all probably be tripping over themselves if you were interviewing and flirting with them, but—

"i wasn't expecting that," hinata blinks.

"they look a little...friendly," atsumu comments carefully, unable to look away as meian drags a hand through his sweaty hair and mirrors your smile.

sakusa's unimpressed voice suddenly interrupts their spectating, "i would hope so, considering the fact that she's his wife."

[merelydaydreaming]

for @wintersroses, from this<3

not kicking both your boyfriend and his best friend out of the house before your zoom call for work was your first mistake.

the second was not repositioning yourself with your back to a wall, as both hiro and mattsun have both managed to become minor celebrities amongst your co-workers with every little guest appearance they've made in the background over the past two and a half hours.

guest appearances including but not limited to: a fashion show of shit from your closet, badminton in the living room, mattsun stirring cookie batter for absolutely no reason for ten minutes straight (you're pretty sure they're currently on fire in the oven), hiro seeing how many cheetos he could fit in his mouth, mattsun shoving even more cheetos into hiro's mouth because he thought he could do better than that, and their official audition tape for wwe smackdown.

and finally comes your third mistake—assuming that you're in the clear now that the presentation has ended, your boss has logged off, and your co-workers are in the midst of saying their goodbyes.

"so wait, which one's your boyfriend?" one of them laughs.

you sigh, rolling your eyes with a fond smile. "at this rate, i'm inclined to say neither—"

"me."

"me."

hiro and mattsun both interrupt you at the same time, shoving their heads into the frame on either side of you. mattsun's curls tickle the side of your face as hiro plants a shameless kiss on your cheek.

"that's not—" you choke as mattsun tickles your side.

"we're madly in love," hiro sighs, putting his chin on his hands.

mattsun winks at the camera.

your co-workers giggle.

you die a little inside for several reasons.

"okay cool nice to meet you guys, we're gonna have sex now bye!" hiro throws up a peace sign.

"TAKAHIRO—"

mattsun waves and clicks the red button to end the call.

[merelydaydreaming]

ummm do you get knocked up after a night out, dressed in your prettiest clothes with a beat face or do you get knocked up in your muumuu with messy hair

[merelydaydreaming]

may i pls get some alpha sukuna… he’s so nasty (affectionate)

sukuna's every bit the perfect alpha on paper. ask the potential omegas lining up to fix a nest in his home and watch them salivate for a knot so large and a bond so deep. an alpha they'll present and prostrate for. there are rumours about the sheer weight and size of his cock, the heady pheromones, not to mention his week-long ruts. call it an impossible excursion—a breeding fuckfest with only one thing in mind. to be used and bred full of his pups. a litter or two or more. fucking without care—brutal, relentless, and insatiable.

but forget that his reputation precedes him. sukuna's true value as an alpha stands solely on his capability to hunt and chase, to capture a coveted mate he keeps...or lack thereof.

contrary to the rules of ritual, courting is by far the least of sukuna's priorities. turning his nose up at romance and the like when he's had potential mates eating out the palm of his hand since the beginning. there's no need to make a song and dance about it when he'd have his pick and fill of omegas without needing to try. much less convince them of his oh so superior traits.

he's attractive, you'll give him that. most alphas are. but there's something extra special about a tall man with tattoos and a mean side. such callousness. oozing masculinity and hot-blooded need. like an impending storm. too intense, too forthcoming, and way more than you're prepared for. after all, an unmated alpha is an available alpha and you're not one to compete.

'she's so inadequate for a mate. he'll reject her soon.' they say. any time now and some other needy thing might just swoop in to take her place. someone who's deserving of it.

what a waste, you've gotten the attention of the most powerful alpha you've ever met and want nothing to do with it—a self-righteous omega who believes alphas should know better. why give in to such baser instincts, how primitive, how primal. moreso in this day and age when suppressants are readily available and cycles can be tracked to a T.

which is why you don't look back when his gaze lingers a bit too long. adding distance when he not-so-subtly attempts to leave his scent on you. going as far as to turn him down the first time he cages you in and offers—upfront and blatantly—to 'help you out' with your next heat. as if you were some charity case. "promise i won't bite," he teases you about your barren neck and inexperience, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"i'm not interested," you scoff, leaving him there with a hard-on in his pants and no relief. he might be a prized alpha but you won't entertain the idea of proving yourself. stroking his ego and preening for him. you were just as valuable of a partner despite being beyond your prime years with zero experience and still unmated.

••••••••••••••••••••

the only problem is that he won't take no for an answer.

he's made his choice among the other blurred faces and dull scents. been waiting a long time for someone as irresistible as you. "do you fear me?" he asks the moment you bend over his kitchen counter. he allows himself a peek at a round ass and soft hips, also to sniff at your scent permeating the air. omega. he knows as much. you make it pretty obvious with your distaste for alphas. but the sweet-scented slick between your legs is as telling.

geez. he thinks. those suppressants of yours are next to useless if you're already dripping this much within proximity to an alpha. not just any alpha either, sukuna's well aware you're beginning to fall for him. you want him so bad and it's so unfair. he's barely even touched you. but only because he's wondering if your underwear would survive the rest of the day. 'what if she's wearing a thong and her thighs get drenched too.' he grins like a wolf at the thought.

you admit with a heavy heart, "i'm more afraid of what i'm like with you." because how does one resist his advances. sukuna pushes the envelope just enough to make your knees buckle. his domineering aura makes everyone else cower in fear under a cold gaze but watch how it turns into a dreamy one when you push his face away after a kiss gets heated. his incisors poke you slightly like a teasing taunt and you find yourself fighting the pleasure.

"it's natural," he'll justify. how your body longs so desperately to belong to this alpha. succumbing to his...ferventness. his large, heated hands roaming over your breasts hidden underneath his shirt. the collar's too wide but it gives him room to wrap his fist delicately around your neck. you bite back an excited squeal when it feels so right.

••••••••••••••••••••

there's something off about him when sukuna returns home late that night. an unfamiliar scent lingers on his clothing and your stomach twist with a possessive feeling. the same one that eats you alive to the point of guilt. you smell it the moment he walks through the door of your bedroom. 

nothing like yours, it's not sharp enough to be daunting nor is it reminiscent of an alpha's scent. but it's potent. almost as if they were doing it on purpose. releasing their pheromones so he'd pick up on it, or worse, that you'd notice.

you try not to jump to any conclusions and you don't want to be jealous, but it's hard having your boyfriend come home with the smell of another omega on him.

you straddle him against the headboard with a hardened look on your face. involuntarily snarling as you peel his suit jacket off. shirt buttons coming apart under your rushed hands.

he grins at your ferocious display. reminds him of an angry kitten. he grinds his hips upwards, keeping you in place with steady hands. bouncing you on top of his clothed cock wasn't in the plans tonight, he thought he'd shower off the stench. it's not like it was strong enough to affect him.

but he tries to get you off instead, while he tries to get himself some self-control. "feel good?" he dares to question when you're practically losing your mind, a sudden spike of lust spurs in your belly, incited with just that little bit of friction. hoping feverishly that the scent of fresh arousal will be overridden by heat and breathy gasps through gritted teeth.

you're hardly in a headspace to reply but an eager nod shall suffice. "didn't think you'd be the jealous type," you feel him nipping at your ear, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, the slight graze of teeth against freshly washed and oiled skin,

"i'm not jealous—" you lie. holding back a moan when he rocks a little faster, writhing atop him in pleasure. your nipples have risen taut against your nightgown and it makes an incredibly lewd sight. sitting in his lap so compliantly.

“i'd want them to watch us,” he whispers and you'd never do such a thing but the idea turns you on. he tells you that back in ancient times they used to partake in mating rituals and bonding ceremonies. privacy was more a privilege then and so was having an audience. that other omegas and betas would know of their place. how insignificant they are, if only they could watch you now, pussy fluttering and juices leaking all over their prized alpha.

••••••••••••••••••••

sukuna watches your face as you come undone for the fourth time. shushes your sobbing cries with a gentle hand caressing your back. "you don't have to worry," he's too busy holding himself back to find another.

says he wants to do things on your own terms and timing. swears that he won't easily fall prey to the lingering sweet-scented air around you, perfumed syrup and sugar. gently skimming his lips and tongue over a soft nape, a supple shoulder. he'll settle for merely licking the flesh he wishes to sink his teeth into. a caress, a chaste kiss, but never bruising or breaking.

he swallows the protest to earn your approving smile in return. it's enough of a struggle seeing you prancing around unaffected while he's been dying to fuck you senseless. to do what's natural to him. "it's wrong for an unmated couple to live together," seems to be everyone else's motto and he'd like to laugh but there's a shred of truth to it. he realises that it's impossible when he wants to fuck all. the. time.

gritting his teeth and forcing a smile when he's hit with a waft of your scent, he knows you're turned on. you want it just as much—every heat spent away from him in separate rooms. he smells your slick calling out to him. hears your moans poorly muffled and overshadowed by the sounds of you fucking yourself. your pussy bare and gleaming, he'll get on his knees for a taste. prying your twitching thighs apart, forcing them open if he has to, his lips nibbling and sucking your clit til you're crying from the pleasure, thrumming his tongue so fast it drives you crazy. all for the tang of your squirt staining his tastebuds and mussed-up sheets below.

but he shouldn't live life by the balls. no matter how full and heavy they get with the need for release. preferably inside you, so deep and plenty he finds himself picturing it at random times of the day. zoning out in his office, in the middle of traffic. how full you'd look with your belly bulging out. would it drip between your pussy lips or should he plug you with his cock instead, refusing a single drop to leak.

still, he wills himself to stay within your bounds. being lustful and possessive isn't anything to be ashamed of. it's part of his makeup but he's more than that. two people are perfectly capable of looking beyond their sex and desires—or so you tell him.

••••••••••••••••••••

his rut arrives when his symptoms not-so casually appear in the middle of the week. pheromones and a temper not even you can subdue. he's biting into his knuckles from the arousal spurred on by great timing and comically predictable circumstances—just the smell and sight of you there, happily unaware and otherwise tempting.

maybe your expectations have been exceedingly high. you can't change his nature. but how dare he forbid you from entering the home you shared, spare keys hidden and passcodes altered. "leave—" he warns, then breathes a frustrated sigh, "—it's not safe."

not that he feels particularly sorry about his tone, but what separates him from you is but a door and a razor-thin resolve. he's at his limit. he won't survive this on suppressants alone. not with you looking the way you do. "how can i help?" you ask worriedly, wrecking your head over him. wanting to comfort and coddle. for someone who turns their nose up at omegan stereotypes, you're playing the part so perfectly it drives him mad.

because it's the worst experience for an alpha to go through a rut alone. you'd understand the pain of having to suppress a heat. all the years dealing with the fevers and cramps. milk leaking from your sore nipples wishing he'd be there to relieve the pressure. a nest of him and only him. grinding and burrowing within amber, musk, and spice. intoxicating, intense, chasing after the smell found in his sweat-drenched tee, a wrinkled white shirt bearing smoke and aftershave on its collar. snuggling his pillow and getting off with your fingers or a whirring toy at its highest speed, but it's not enough, never enough. pussy contracting on absolutely nothing.

his den is dark and moody when you step inside. slipping into a frenzied haze, there he lazes with legs spread on your shared bed big enough for four, it stretches wider than you remembered, or maybe it's that you've yet to see it in this light, waiting to be broken in and littered with your belongings. he's grabbed at them in a rush. whatever your scent clung to. your duvet, your stuffed toy, and pretty, day-old crimson panties gripped in the same fist he pumps his cock with.

the threads fray, soaked fabric snapping and stretching with every drag down his shaft. rip. rip. rippp. a hole tears through when he tugs too hard and that heavy thing slaps over his stomach with a resounding smack.

you see it for the first time and wonder why not sooner. the perfect dick hiding in plain sight. actually, that's not true. you just haven't seen it this up close and personal. but given the sneak peeks—when the steam clears in the shower and it hangs soft and hefty, the way it juts out of tight gym shorts, or just...the swell of it rubbing in between your ass cheeks when he gets needy—none of them could've prepared you for this.

sukuna thinks it’s so ugly and brutish. he's found many an opportunity to tell you so, even now as his head cranes backwards with a frustrated groan, a growl that rumbles from somewhere deep within. ”it's enough to scare off any omega—” he says, a knowing smirk on his face when he can practically smell the slick dribbling down your thighs, saturating your panties, "—but not you."

a thick vein throbs on the underside, tip bulging and a little darker than the shaft, girthy and gushing with precum. his balls are heavy, taut with tension under the soft skin, and you shudder at the thought of what his knot would look like...who would've thought that such a monstrous-looking thing would have this much of an effect on you. weak in the knees and stomach fluttering in anticipation. the way it seems oh so daunting, how are you meant to take all of that inside you. if he laid the entire thing right against your stomach, how far would it go? it'd be enough to knock the wind out of you.

you try to calm your nerves. it's just a rut. it'll be over in no time. quick and simple. although you've read plenty of stories and watched the videos to know this wouldn't be a passionate embrace. no tenderness or care for your pleasure let alone your comfort. you wish to believe that he'll be careful if not a bit rough. and maybe a part of you wants to please him. despite all your certainties, would it be so bad to make him feel good and satisfy his needs? would it be wrong to wish for his scent mark, and his bonding bite. to be claimed and chosen.

it's an expression you've never seen before. as if he wants to devour you. he won't explain himself as he makes you watch. turning you into a voyeur as the urge takes over him. hooded eyes locked on yours, his blown-out pupils and slobbering drool are enough evidence for you—he intends to mate.

whimpering his name does nothing to quell his madness or ministrations. he's so far gone you don't think he comprehends the things he says, "can't wait to knot you...breed you...been wanting to taste you for so long..." he purrs, low and rumbling from his chest. sharp teeth grazing against your earlobe teasingly but never biting down on the cartilage, just a light nibble that turns you into a shivering mess. he's caught you within his jaws and your instincts argue against your better judgement, you're beyond fighting and struggling now while your weak hands push against his hulking mass to no avail.

yet, it's thrilling. amazing even. an alpha pinned atop you and nowhere to run. his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, the back of your ear, both your arms lifted in his singlehanded grasp. he dives for every inch of skin, every spot that bears your aroma the strongest, going as far into the divot of your armpit while he's laving at the salt and sweat greedily. his saliva scenting sugar-sweet skin, marking you as his chosen victim. "you're so dirty—" is more of a plea for him to snap out of it. already embarrassed, exposed, and so eager.

he takes a pebbled nipple between his teeth and swirls his tongue around the tip of it. you're too distracted to realise he hadn't responded to your quip, because your scent told him all he needed to know, so did the soft whimper when he abandons one nipple, and the moan when he takes the other in his mouth.

there's a way to do things and sukuna's way is unmerciful. a man has never been this good at finding a clit, which is probably why his tongue won't leave it alone. he keeps his tongue broad until it comes out of hiding before he's got his lips wrapped around. he sucks on it languidly. pulls away just to spit and slaver, blow a raspberry for fun. marvelling at the drool and the mess you've made.

no time to waste when most of it was spent not eating your pussy. sukuna hums and hungrily feasts, tongue flicking frantically. your screams come out involuntarily, unable to hold back your moans coming out in short staccato bursts. a little panicked, but nonetheless agreeable. "something's happening! wait—" you hiss when it starts to burn a little. your hips lifting off the bed while his fingers keep prodding that special spot inside.

it only makes it all the more pleasurable when the pressure builds, when the squeeze feels so tight. you clench and feel every pass of his digits, every purposeful lick. "—kuna, i think i'm gonna—" his fingers quicken while his other forearm presses down on your pelvis to keep you in place and it's more than enough to make you come hard. gushing again and again, streaking the sheets and his smug expression.

"i've always wanted to do that," he admits cheekily. a face you can't stop admiring now that it's covered in your juices. your legs tremble and you can't catch your breath whilst he's leaving gentle kisses on your oversensitive lips, but he's far from finished with you.

with his cock leaking in his hold, he taps it on your sticky heat for good measure before gliding it back and forth, the opening of his cock prodding, getting caught on your clit as he slips in slow. with how thick he is, you feel every ridge and vein. gasping at the first push and fisting the sheets to try and accommodate.

unsurprisingly, it hurts just a pinch. "please,” you mewl, just that single word slipping past ragged breaths as you struggle. throat dry and crackly from the heaving and the foggy, post-orgasm haze. you don't know if you want him to stop or to go on but—"what if it can't fit?" you're genuinely concerned because it might not physically fit. already full to the brim, your pussy stretches so snugly around his shaft like a glove.

"there's a lot more to go," he hints at the rest of his cock he's yet to sheath inside you. "but we'll make it fit," a large palm rests over your womb as he swipes his thumb against your clit, hoping it'll ease the discomfort.

you nod weakly, whimpering "i trust you," but he's so big. you can feel your pussy trying to suck him in, a bead of sweat travels down your chest. mouth falling open as he slips in a little at a time, girth forcing your entrance to open wider. buries his cock in the one pussy he’s fantasized about the most and ruts like he's always wanted to.

••••••••••••••••••••

on the third day, you start getting restless. feeling sore and exhausted while running on no sleep and little bites of food. the room is in dire need of fresh air and the bed frame is on its last legs, but sukuna's urges grow stronger by the day. he barely manages to pull out to hydrate before he goes back to fucking you. always so slow and gentle, however, your moans and whines spill out, slowly but surely you succumb to every orgasm that rocks through you. wave after rippling wave.

still hard and throbbing the entire time. it's probably because every time your neck cranes upwards as an offering, baring your mating gland, he avoids it. fighting it. "why won't you knot me?" comes out sounding pouty and petulant but you don't care. your delectable scent slowly fades into a bitter note, anxiety and insecurity filling your voice. sukuna hasn't even tried to push it past your folds. steadily milking his knot outside of where it should be with his own hands is enough of a blatant rejection.

he reminds himself that he'd sworn to never let it go that far, knotting you would change everything, what if you couldn't see him the same way, that he was just another alpha who took you for himself. "i can't," guilt laces his voice and so does his frustration when his conscience appears from behind the pussy-drunk fog. his heart bleeding, his instincts yearning. 'i don't want to hurt you' is what he means. but what you hear in your dejected state is 'you won't be able to handle it.'

was it your inexperience that made him uninterested? you knew alphas liked them subservient, obedient. just like an omega should be. taking his knot without qualms. consummating in perfect rhythm. a tinge of pain shoots through your chest at the thought—sukuna could have any omega he wants, you've kept him waiting too long, you've made him doubt. you're not able to keep up, to please him, to be enough...despite giving in. despite trying your best to take him. he won't claim you,' says the voice in your head.

a whimper breaks from you at his words. you shouldn't have to ask, this was meant to be innate, instinctual, not something he has to restrain himself from. "aren't i your mate? don't i belong to you?" you sob, hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

he presses his forehead to yours, "you're gonna bleed, i might break you," he tries to explain, getting uncharacteristically soft in the moment. it's your fault for stumbling across a wounded beast. finding your way into his broken heart. binding the pieces back together while you soothe the aches and kiss his scars. 'yes you belong to me.' his beautiful omega who begs so nicely to be mated, if this is what you're like three days in, he longs to see what you're like in heat.

you shake your head, getting stubborn. you won't accept it and you're on the verge of clawing at him to get away. you've been ready at his mercy and what for. just to come out the other end dissatisfied and unfulfilled. fuck. you just want it to be done with. defile me, ravage me, you want him completely.

in an attempt to fight him, you let out a harmless threat, one you regret the moment it's uttered because you've gone too far—"if you won't do it, i'll find another alpha who will!"

suddenly, sukuna's thoughts are invaded by that sick thought. scenes of you naked and oozing slick. pinned beneath another alpha, his weight pressing into you along with his knot, glaring at him as he makes his claim the way he couldn't and it makes him snap.

the growling sound that leaves his mouth is a warning, and so is the hand that slips around your throat. large fingers coming together around your neck. the squeeze cutting your gasp short. it should frighten you, he could snap your neck as easily as it is to split a matchstick in half and right now, he seems just about ready to.

"careful now, omega," he spits out, teeth bared and demanding submission. forbidding and looming above you, his fist tightens ever so slightly. "you've forgotten your place," it seems you've misjudged your role and the precarious position you're in. fucked out in his den, in his bed. intentionally riling him up won't do you any good. no one touches you, scents you, or claims you but him no matter how your feet kick him uselessly, he doesn't move an inch.

"i'm sorry—" you pant, "i'll be good, i promise." you squirm and wriggle underneath, uncertain if you should run or relish in it. so ominous it turns you on even more. he's never put you in your place like this and you think you should make him jealous more often if it means he'd choke you out and go feral on your pussy.

"is that so?" he tries again. presses his cock in slowly inch by inch. feeling your pussy open up and yield to his girth. sukuna leans in close so he gets to watch your eyes roll back. bullies his way through with one deep thrust and finds himself balls-deep. "you want it so bad? want me to ruin this perfect pussy all because you wanna cum all over my knot, i won't stop til you're screaming and milking me dry—"

muscle memory forces your back to arch towards him. his broad chest against your nipples, delicious hot skin rubbing your hardened nubs the right way. he stills for a moment before he withdraws slowly, a mix of pleasure and anticipation coiling in your belly.

watching him, watching you. he looks down and groans at the obscene sight of cream and slick coating his shaft, viscous and too much to bear. the bulge in your tummy protrudes where his cock takes up all that space, rearranging your guts had never looked this lewd.

when his knot finally kisses your entrance, you feel it hot and prodding against you. desperate for him shove it in. to feel it pop through and nestle so deep, all the way to the hilt while he stays there and unloads himself inside you. balls twitching, sitting in a warm crook he’s found. your omega instincts sing at the thought of him filling you up. "knot me, breed me, my alpha—" you cry. begging for it, hot and immensely copious. a sticky mess all over, both the mattress completely drenched in fluids and your insides coated in his seed.

he feels the give of your womb, the tightness around the head of his cock. groaning at the sensation. just a little bit more and he'd be buried, finally. he fucks you violently, no holds barred. hands gripping your hips so achingly tight he might shatter your pelvis into pieces. you'll count the bruises later on but shall forgive him for the fact that he's cumming his brains out.

you're crying and babbling mindlessly, yes yes just like that. your limbs begin to shake as your peak edges closer, hand gripping his bicep while bracing yourself. wild and frantic hips jerking and shallow thrusts bumping and nudging against your cervix. striking deep and rocking you against the sheets.

your shivering doesn't go unnoticed and there he leans in to give your oiled and mouth-watering neck a final lick, shushing you with a gentle, calming kiss to your mating gland in preparation for his teeth.

and when he finally pushes his knot in, cock piercing your womb as your pussy clamps down viciously on its slim spot at the base, his teeth spears into your flesh with ease. there's the give of taut skin and tight muscle but soon he settles deep enough for blood to trickle and you come several times, pulsing and fluttering along multiple orgasms rolling in after the next, enough that you're shaking in his hold.

you cry and cry, overstimulated, sensitive, and so in love. not only with how full you feel but you surprise him with your own teeth sinking down into his trapezius, not too deep into muscle but just enough to leave tiny dents in his skin. your chattering jaw and slippery lips can't find purchase while you're preoccupied with whining his name. so you try again, this time closer to his neck.

sukuna catches on to your efforts and finds it all the more endearing. helping you find the perfect spot, he manoeuvres his neck closer while you give him light nibbles and sharp pinprick nips here and there but they're all too soft to pierce the skin. "do it," he pants, "mark me anywhere, i'm yours."

it must be his words that urge you but you think it's more to do with the greed roiling inside you. you want to leave a mark that he'd never be able to cover up. by the time he's grinding his knot into you again, pulling at your hips and guiding you on it like a toy, milking him of whatever's left, your lips part around the front of his neck without any more hesitation. inhaling his scent deeply, the vibrations of his groans rattling against your teeth, before biting down on his throat. teeth embedded deep and tongue lapping at his bobbing adam's apple.

he leans in to kiss you filthy and open-mouthed, tongues swapping spit and bloody iron while your thumbs caress his jaw and neck, adding a little pressure to the spot where his freshly bitten mating gland throbs quickly. a hummingbird wingbeat beneath your fingertips.

[merelydaydreaming]

Ginoza Nobuchika | Psycho Pass Providence

[merelydaydreaming]

nonchalant boyfriend sae, except he secretly is super clingy. he’s just perpetually unbothered when it comes to speculation on your relationship with him through the eyes of the media. there’s paparazzi pics that had people clutching their pearls; the two of you went out for a run, and while catching your breath, sae goes behind you to pull out your lip balm from the inner waistband pocket of your leggings. no one knows this, though, so it literally looks like he’s just casually reaching down your leggings, in broad daylight, to cop a feel. the worst part is the fact that he won’t address it until his managers force him to explain. what’s harder to explain is when you were trying to take a cute mirror video of you two during a date night. he’s got his arms wrapped around you from behind, hands resting against the flat of your stomach, and it’s almost sweet, until one of his large hands travels a bit downwards and he literally taps his hand against the area between your thighs. you accidentally posted the video & deleted it within seconds but your followers are quicker. someone screen recorded it and sae’s publicity team doesn’t know how to respond to all the “NOT THE KITTY TAPS IN THE DAMN ELEVATOR😩😩”

[merelydaydreaming]

not to be like that but the cat skins in this new season of fortnite are kinda fine 🙈

[merelydaydreaming]

Me + Itoshi bros threeway kiss

[merelydaydreaming]

The most viral clip of Dynamight is not a battle or some heroic moment. It's a tiktok interview.

The influencer is known for giving proheroes a bit of a hassle while off the clock; she tripped up Sero on his morning run, she's made Ochako go fully pink on her way home from work-

And she ran into Bakugo at the grocery story.

"Mr. Murder-"

Bakugo doesn't even blink at first. He's too busy inspecting a couple bok choy to even notice her presence. She has to get close for him to turn around

"Lord Murder-" The woman shoves her little microphone into his face and CLEARLY gets a bit of a rise out of Bakugo with that. He yanks his ear bud out with a 'hah?'.

"You're my favorite hero, Mr. Murder."

"I'm your favorite hero?" Bakugo's lip pulls up in confusion. "Really? What the fuck's wrong with you?"

He slips his ear bud back in and returns to his vegetables. "Pick a better favorite, damn."

[merelydaydreaming]

new tag game who is your voice blorbo?

a voice actor you would recognize in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, in different times, in the shortest one-liner or by their laugh or scream or cough alone?

[merelydaydreaming]

did i ever tell you guys about my delinquent!iwa with a heart of gold x rich girl & oikawa's younger sister!reader?? where tooru and reader are the sheltered children of one of the wealthiest families in the prefecture meanwhile iwaizumi, who means well, can't help but run with "the wrong crowd" — they're not really all that bad. they're just boys. they're his childhood friends, of course he's sticking by them.

anyway, tooru, in typical tooru fashion, decides he wants to join their little group. your older brother has always been charming, so it's no surprise that he manages to endear himself to their little group. now your older brother is running around with the same delinquents your father criticizes at the dinner table. tooru never lets you join them, even if you beg and threaten to snitch (which you'd never do, and maybe that's why he doesn't take your threat seriously)

after a particularly nasty fight and everyone in the group has to scatter to flee from the cops, where does a bruised and battered iwa end up? hopping the gate to enter your parent's property, throwing rocks at your bedroom window. he thinks it's oikawa, but he knows he's made a mistake whenever you step out onto the balcony outside your bedroom. before he can run off, the fight he just got done with has finally taken its toll on his body and he finds himself knocking out onto the grass.

you drag him in. your parents are gone at one of their charity galas and it'll be a late night. you're home alone. you're home alone in your family's mansion, and it took all of your strength to drag this unconscious delinquent inside, and the marble floors are surely gonna get dirty, and—

—you patch him up.

you patch him up, and when he wakes up half an hour later, he's got hello kitty band-aids on and you're not letting him leave 'til he eats the ramen you made him. you're stubborn, just like your annoying older brother, so iwa begrudgingly eats the meal you took obvious care in making for him.

and somehow, he keeps finding himself coming back to you. sometimes under the guise of needing to see tooru, sometimes because you take a stern tone of voice different from your usual gentle cadence when you chastise him for getting roughed up & how if he refuses to take care of himself, at least let you apply some ointment to his cuts.

iwa knows he's in too deep, though, whenever he sees you taking care of a kitty one night.

"is that yours?" he asks, never having seen you with any pets. the kitten is cute, sure, but looks a little rough. skinnier than baby cats should be, that's for damn certain. looks almost like the strays 'round his neighborhood.

"nope. i saw her wandering around, looking all lost and lonely. she stops by occasionally, along with others."

"others?"

you nod, stroking the kitten's fur, smiling serenely as you watch her lap at the saucer of milk you provided. "there's a couple of dogs i pass by on my way to school." that explains why he once saw dog treats spill out of your school blazer pocket.

"you have a thing for taking in strays." he's joking, but his smile fades when you sadly answer him,

"yeah. but they never stay."

iwaizumi knows that in the eyes of your neighbors and the people in your social circle, he's your stray.

is he going to stay?

[merelydaydreaming]

*i would be overjoyed if you explained why in the tags <3

[merelydaydreaming]

can i show u guys something insane i started writing yesterday

[merelydaydreaming]

Takami Keigo doesn't want to see you.

Of course, he's too well trained to say it in so many words, but when he 'forgets' his session this afternoon, you get the message.

Unfortunately for him, you're stubborn. You show up at his apartment in the dormitories, ring his bell until your fingers numb.

Only then does he crack open the door, just enough for you to catch his forbidding smile, a caustic gleam to his eyes. "What can I help you with, this fine evening?"

"You missed our appointment," you say pleasantly. "This is the third time."

"Oh, must have just slipped my mind," he says with a dismissive little wave. "I'll catch you next time."

The door slams in your face.

Being so curtly dismissed by a top ranking officer should probably send you into a panic, but the stats you pulled up for him after his no-show are even more concerning. This is quickly turning into an emergency, and unfortunately it's your job on the line if he succumbs to corruption.

Who would blame the second most powerful Sentinel alive, when there's a feckless guide as a scapegoat.

"I'm going to ring the bell again," you say, loudly.

After a moment of silence, you think he must not have heard you.

Then the door swings open. "Fine," he snaps.

You follow him to the living room, watch as he drops himself on the couch with a sigh, eyes squeezed shut.

You'd never known guiding to be this much of a chore for Sentinels. Most of your roster is rather clingy and covetous of your time. None of them has ever been late to an appointment with you.

"Well?" he prods. "Get on with it."

You hesitate. The tension he seems to be holding will make this a lot more difficult, strenuous for you both. "Do you maybe want to talk for a bit? Or I could put on some white noise."

He opens his eyes just enough to give you a cutting look. "No."

You surrender with a sigh, coming to sit next to him on the couch. Every Sentinel prefers contact a different way; some want you to hug them, pet their hair, a few have even asked you to kiss them, fuck them, though you've never fulfilled that type of request, your boundaries in this job too firm for it.

You want to ask him what would make this easier for him, but you're sure waiting any longer will only set him off. So, delicately, you take his hand.

The first draw is always the hardest, the corrupt energy being nullified by your own. Some outside force reaching in, invasive despite the relief.

Takami flinches.

You go slower, a soft steady ebb, pulling the poison from him in silken thread.

His hand relaxes in yours.

You reach deeper, welcoming the full flood between you, warmth and light suffusing you both. And it feels how it's supposed to -- natural.

When your watch chimes, signaling the sessions end, Takami blinks out of his stupor. He'd melted during the thirty minutes you worked on him, body curled toward yours, face falling onto your shoulder.

He pulls away swiftly, shocked by his own willingness to lean on you.

You rise, marking off the details of your appointment on your tablet. "I can come back tomorrow, to finish up. You haven't been guided in a long time, so I couldn't get it all in one session. Does 2pm work for you?"

He's not prepared for the question. "Um. Yeah?"

You mark that down as well, then see yourself out.

It takes three more sessions for you to fully clear the corrupted energy from his body. In his haze he admits to you the reason he's so standoffish to Guides, why he dodges his sessions with such fervor.

"It's never felt good. Always felt like I'm being held down, trapped. Made me feel antsy, nervous." He buries his face against your throat, inhaling deeply. You'd started off just holding his hand again, but now he hugs your entire arm against his chest, your fingers twined. "It's not like that with you."

"I'm glad, Mr. Takami," you return. "Please don't ignore my emails from now on."

As you make your notes, you ask him his availability for next month.

He blinks at you. "You're not coming back tomorrow?"

You check your calendar. You'd had to push back several of your regular appointments to make room for the past few days. "I'm booked solid for the next two weeks, at least."

You glance at him, taking in his appearance, his general well being. You reach a hand out to cup his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes. He startles, first, before leaning into your touch.

"You seem fine," you decide, pulling away, already heading for the door. "I'll contact you later about our next session."

He trails after you, linger at the precipice as you take the elevator back down to your floor.

...

He never ignores you emails, after that.

In fact, he sends many of his own. He gets your phone number, somehow. Some days he shows up with coffee, or snacks, sits with you on the couch while you eat.

He's always touching you during those times, brushing hair behind your ears or straightening your shirt collar. Mostly he just holds your hand, playing with your fingers or clutching it in his own lap.

You don't guide him during any of these impromptu visits, too weary from the rest of your overfull schedule -- but you've heard of this type of attachment from other Guides.

Sentinels tend to imprint on guides they have a decent connection with. Part survival instinct, part status seeking. A Sentinel without a guide is doomed. A Sentinel with a high match-rate is likely to be stronger than their peers.

But that's the thing about un-bonded Sentinels, they're always on the lookout for a better Guide, their perfect mate.

Takami is overly attached to you now, but it will pass.

...

Or so you thought.

You're sent out into the aftermath of a battle that rocks the city. Dozens of Sentinels pushed themselves to the breaking point, on the brink of corruption, about to turn into the very monsters they fight to suppress.

You spot Takami in the midst of the wreckage. Exhausted, but giving you a shakey smile when your eyes meet. He limps toward you, so glad to see you, so ready for the safety and warmth of your arms--

Someone calls your name. Urgent, an emergency. Another Sentinel with no one to take care of them.

You turn away from Takami, and you go.

He'd fought hard, but his body has grown used to the abuse over the years. He's in bad shape, but it's not life-threatening like some of the others you help today.

It's hours before you can see him.

Slumped on a curb, hands folded neatly in his lap. Like he's been waiting so patiently for you this whole time.

You come to your knees before him, letting him take your hands, draw you closer. "Why didn't you go to another Guide?"

Surely he could have found someone else, despite the chaos of the scene. If not you, one of the high ranking Guides, slotted exclusively for S-rank Sentinels.

He looks at you, trembling, confused. "I don't want another Guide."

When he asks if you'll hold him, you do. You take him in your arms, let his weight settle on you. Feel his warmth all around you, his breath against your shoulder.

"And I don't want you to guide anyone else," he murmurs.

You stroke his nape. "I know. I'm sorry. You'll find your Guide soon enough, and then you can have each other all to yourselves."

His grip tightens. He braces you against him -- instead of a heady tightness, you're constricted.

"I already found my Guide," he whispers into your throat.

Then he bites.

[merelydaydreaming]

Do you have any pictures of a fictional character on your walls?

[merelydaydreaming]

you and sae break up and a month or so later you catch a cold. and he drives two hours to pick up soup for you from a restaurant you went on a date on and comes over to take care of you anyway. you think you're dreaming him up when you see him in your kitchen. his expensive coat draped over your shitty old couch, sleeves of turtle neck sweater rolled up to his elbows while he bends over a pot of porridge.

(you're still sore from the break up. of course - it's not a surprise when you need comfort your mind still looks for him.

but you tell yourself there's no way. he has practice. it's the middle of busy season. there's no way he skipped practice to take care of you)

it takes you a little over a day of being taken care of to realize he's really in your apartment. after he so casually wipes the sweat off your sickly skin and suddenly you become self-conscious over his touch. you're too ill to be smart about it so when you're changed and feeling a touch better - you manage to voice your thoughts.

"you're really here," you mumble it as he tucks you back in. "why're you here?"

"sick people shouldn't waste their energy with dumb questions."

"sae-chan," you blink at him. "why?"

he closes his eyes for a long minute before shaking his head. "to take care of you. what other reason?"

"but you-"

"i know. it wasn't because i didn't love you anymore, so shut up and go back to sleep."

you frown. you really can't afford to talk anymore. your throat hurts too much and you're groggy again but it doesn't mean you won't complain. "you're so unfair."

he waits for you to fall asleep before pushing hair away from your forehead, placing a kiss to your skin. "yeah, i know."