#Dom omega

[osiiiris]

The thing that should not be [Terzomega One Shot]

I finally made it with a Terzo/Ghoul. What’s your opinion on POV fics? I used to write a lot of it in my past fandoms but here I see rarely this kind of fics. Thank you @van-goghs-smoking-skull for your help 🌹

Genre: slash, explicit, oral sex, sex, Terzo POV, young Terzo, sub Terzo, dom Omega, first time with Omega/a Ghoul.

Pairing: Terzo x Ghoul (Omega)

Rating: Nc17 (explicit but not properly smut)

Words: 2.943

Summary: Terzo is the 20 year old last heir of Papa Nihil and he’s definitely not having fun at his father’s birthday party. Luckily, a big Ghoul is around to save the night…

>>> Wattpad | AO3 | or down here 👇🏻

The first time we met, the big Ghoul and I, was in the hallways of the Ministry, shortly after the new summoning, but there was nothing more than a few distracted glances. I had seen him walking along with the other Ghouls, standing out for his size; their black robes covered every inch of their bodies, including their faces, making them look like nothing more than disturbing moving shadows.

The last time was a few days ago, and besides the looks, there was also the insolence of a mouth that was too big and too dirty to keep a few of their thoughts to themselves. 

It had been a coincidence that I happened to be passing by just in time to hear my name, followed by a somewhat ungentlemanly "I'm surprised none of us has fucked him yet."

The reply was even less gentle, “Just give me some time and my cock will end up deep in that throat.”

It must have been a group of Ghouls, judging by the voices, but from the cloister colonnade, I couldn't see them. A few more steps, and they were all there, gathered, chatting among themselves, some smoking with the cigarette passing under their masks. It was hard to tell who had spoken, but one of them, the tallest and most recognizable of the group, had stared at me a bit too interested while still laughing at what was said, even though it was impossible to imagine his expression under the mask.

I had noted that tone, knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.

Birthday parties are all dramatically the same and all equally boring, especially when it's your father's birthday. Or at least, I'm just in a phase of chronic dissatisfaction, as Copia would say.

Suddenly, a nearby, deep and familiar voice draws me to a small sofa that I only see from the back.

"...and so you're going on tour."

There is a girl with him, but I can't understand what they're talking about. I only catch a few phrases about music, and as I drink, I move a little closer. Just out of curiosity.

"Yes, in a few weeks." I hear him say, almost disinterested. 

"And is there a chance you'll take me in your suitcase?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd fit."

I almost want to laugh and clench the straw between my lips. I'd like to see the girl's face, but I only see her leave, probably after trying to hide her disappointment with all the self-control that a rejected woman can muster.

"You really know how to disappoint a woman." I say out of honesty, because I would have expected anything from him except for him to turn down someone like her.

He shrugs, not even surprised to see me there.

"If I listened to all those who flirt with me, I'd probably have little monsters scattered all over the world, which has probably already happened."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling my head a bit heavy for the few drinks I had. For now, it's still a nice feeling, but I've never been able to stop in time to leave it that way. Somehow, it's as if I need to create a balance just for the sake of destroying it with my own hands.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

I shrug, while I feel him watching my lips tighten around the straw.

I hear Sister Imperator calling me, and we both turn to her. "I think I have to go."

"You'll stay here, later?" That isn't really a question. It's an invitation, if not an order, and I quickly decide that I really like his orders tonight. "I'll make up for that incident in the cloister."

"See you later, then." I tell him as I boldly clench the straw of a now-empty cocktail between my teeth and move toward who I have always called mother.

After a night spent watching the others participate in the party, drinking and staring at the tips of my shoes as if in a catechism lesson, even the prospect of starting a conversation with Primo about his passion for succulents would seem interesting to me. Fortunately, my first brother doesn't have enough time to waste on me, so Copia approaches me, a cigarette between his lips and the rest of the pack still in his hand.

"Want something to drink?" he yells in my ear, as if the loud music gives him the right to think I've gone deaf.

"Do I look like someone who needs a drink?"

He nods convincingly. "Absolutely!"

"Then I'll go get it myself, at least it'll get me moving a bit. It's a real pain in the ass here."

"I haven’t seen you having fun lately!" He rolls his eyes before muttering something to himself, probably about what a creepy presence I am in his life. I hope that with alcohol around there's some action at least.

There isn't, or at least I don't get to know about it, as someone far more interesting than a drink blocks my way.

"Are you having fun?" 

The first time we saw each other, I must have had a really strange expression. It must have been at least five years ago and it was the first time I ever saw a real demon so close, but he hasn't changed at all, and I'm almost curious to know how he sees me now. Not that I expect him to understand concepts like age and physical change.

"Yes, yes."

"Shall we find a quieter spot, what do you think?"

I don't have the clarity to say no, and with a bit of luck, maybe I won't even remember it later.

I've seen him drink continuously during the party, but he seems as clear-headed as if what he's been drinking was fresh water. Either he holds his liquor well, or he knows how to mask it. Or maybe he's not a twenty-year-old jerk who collapses like an idiot after the third glass and makes a spectacle of his worst self.

I nod with a head that's a bit too heavy, then gesture for him to lead the way, only to stop him soon after.

"Wait a moment." I tell him, and I move away, looking for Copia.

When I find him, I only whisper, "Don't look for me… I'll be back in a while." making sure no one else overhears. He looks at me as if to say 'don't mess things up' - the way I have noticed everybody has started to look at me lately, as if they were ready to bet on me causing new trouble every step I take - and then reluctantly nods. I bite my lip, and the Ghoul takes his time to scrutinize me from head to toe as I approach him again.

When I don't want to feel utterly miserable, I seek refuge in Copia's reassurance. I revert to feeling at least ten years younger, shedding the darkness that has accumulated in recent years, especially when the hassle of being the last Papa's heir began to manifest. You need to start building your reputation very early, and I'm not exactly inclined to miss the fun of my youth for something that will likely happen in twenty or thirty years from now.

In all probability, later tonight or tomorrow I'll rest my head on Copia's shoulder, having him telling me that I'm a dickhead but that's ok, that the way to equanimity is a long and hard one, and I'll believe him.

The Ghoul raises a champagne bottle toward me, then hands me a glass as we sit on the secluded couches.

"To make it up to you." he explains, filling my glass like a seasoned gentleman. There's nothing to make up for, I'd tell him if I had the necessary courage, if you want, I can blow you right here.

We spend some time with a few words and many glasses that empty too easily, my stomach flaring up unsure if for the alcohol or who knows what else.

As I drink, I dare to throw a few interested glances at him, running my eyes up and down his frame, catching any relevant detail, even if it's hard to find them in a figure so covered up like his. The rings on his fingers, the shape of his shoulders, how he tilts his head when laughing… Anything can help me understand why him. And he does the same.

He talks about what he does, the music he likes to play, and worlds I've never seen.

Maybe I'll take you there. It always seems like he's about to say. Maybe we'll just stay there. Or maybe it's just me who wants to hear it from him.

I listen to him, barely hearing his deep voice, muffled by the mask he wears, and the party becomes just a confused cloud of lights and distant voices.

The mask is a testament to his past, his condition as a demon bent to the laws of a world not his own. Esoteric symbols stand out on his uniform; I focus on one of them, Omega. I decide on the spot to call him that from now on, aware that in the absence of an identity, everyone must have given him a different name.

How important it is for us humans to name everything. Perhaps that's our problem.

Omega, a guest who can't stay in his place and also the only one who manages to distract me.

We find ourselves drinking straight from the bottle, and I understand less than half of the things he tells me, but it seems to be okay with him. However, I can feel his hands lightly touching me while talking, so discreet that it surprises me. His are distracted caresses barely hinted at, words that say without saying, and I, who speak that language, immediately think of making it clear to him.

"Let's go to the bathroom?"

And I don't know if it's me or him who says it, but the fact is I get up, and he follows me.

Once inside, I let out a deep sigh that actually has nothing of the malice it seems. My ears already relax due to the newfound silence.

"I have to say you saved me from a boring night."

"You too."

I look at him through the mirror, and he does the same, at a comfortable distance from me.

"Really? Wasn't there anything more valuable than my company?"

He shrugs, then approaches, casting a glance at the door.

"It depends on how the evening might end..." he says with a very calm tone, getting closer until he's right behind me, but he doesn't touch me.

I almost want to laugh, but I let it stay just a little smile and I leave him there to enter one of the cabins and wait.

It doesn't take long before he follows me. He tries to enter, but he holds himself against the doorframe and dares to stretch only his head.

"Is there room for me too?"

I look away, tilting my head and shrugging, leaving it up to him to find out. And he does.

Perhaps my Ghoul doesn't like to give empty words, so he strokes my neck in a way I already know, and there's no need to even apply pressure for me to slowly slide down the wall to end up on my knees in front of him, putting into practice what he has fantasized about with his friends.

Too bad that this time there are no witnesses to prove how true to his word he is.

When he takes it out, I reluctantly admit that what they say about the Ghouls is indeed true. Me, a mere human, must accept and accommodate Mother Nature's wishes.

While I admire him, an involuntary "damn" escapes me, to which he responds with an avoidable "seems so.", but I decide to smile anyway. And then I begin.

I partly watch him and partly keep my eyes closed, relishing the weary satisfaction that comes from having the power to grip a man - human or not, as they apparently work the same - just by slipping into his underwear.

At some point, he stops me, and I understand that he wants to get serious; I stand up, and he immediately seizes my hips with those huge, hot hands. I've always thought of myself as not being a good catch for a woman, let alone a man, from this perspective... I have slender hands and long fingers, which I happen to know many appreciate, but they are minuscule in comparison to his; he probably doesn't even feel my touch.

From the way he's gripping me, it really seems like my entire body can fit completely between his hands.

He turns me around with expertise, and I let him.

I have too many thoughts in my head to properly think about how to move for him. Thoughts that I really shouldn't have in a situation like this, but I also know that this thing won't empty me at all; rather, it will fill my head even more than it already is.

As I gasp against the icy wall, I feel his face in my hair and his breath on my neck, escaping the mask he still has on.

"I like it like this."

Me too, sometimes.

I want to think about what a better person I could be, but instead, I let myself get screwed in a restroom by a Ghoul without saying a word, looking at the white tiles faintly mirroring my panting face while I moan and bite on the sleeve of my habit that still covers me, but not enough to grant me a decency I never really had. He has already said enough about me, and I remained silent even then. Maybe I deserved it. Sure I do.

When he thrusts, I feel it perfectly, almost too much. I feel it so much that I open my eyes wide and gasp, scratch the wall, and stiffen in a way that must amuse him. He grins in my hair and doesn't stop. Thank you.

At this point, I don't even know if this is actually his way to make amends, or if he has forgotten it along with the tenth glass he downed and changed his plans in the meantime.

In the following minutes, there are no words, and I'm grateful for that. I don't understand where one can find the strength to talk in a moment like this, when all you feel is your skin burning with flames that are only yours, and every breath seems like it's never enough.

Then it's just a warm breath on the skin, and what seems like a caress on my hips that now belong to him. At least for a while. Then I can't help but bend over in a way he doesn't seem to appreciate, or maybe he only takes it as a chance to pull my hair and tilt my head back, almost resting it on his shoulder, before pressing my chest back against the wall.

That's how I come, with one hand around my throat and the other resting on my hip, feeling my legs tremble and losing their strength as his thrusts get faster and stronger; I slide my tongue on my lip, hungrily savoring what's left of his flavor and all I can think of is how proud Asmodeus must be of me, while I ignore all the Clergy’s advice by letting those last drops of pleasure shake me and the voice dies in my throat in that last groan, while everything seems to turn white for a couple of seconds.

He holds me, saying nothing, with his huge hand holding himself on the wall, near my head, and the other firmly on my chest, pressing my back against him, and I can't say if that's a caring gesture or he just doesn't want me to fall on his feet.

I take my pack of Marlboros from my pants, which I've just put on, covered by my cassock, with hands still trembling a bit.

"Wanna smoke?" I ask, offering him one while I already have one between my lips.

"Nah." he mutters, as he gets dressed as well, as far as pulling up the zipper of his pants can mean "getting dressed."

I lean against the wall while he takes his time to straighten every fold in his Ghoul uniform, and I have strange thoughts.

"I was thinking about where we shouldn't be."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, not at all impressed.

"What we shouldn't have done..."

Encounters between humans and hellish creatures are not forbidden, but highly discouraged. Nobody can say what the true intentions of an entity born and raised in Hell may be, and it's always dangerous to form that kind of bond with subordinates, especially ones who don't feel feelings in the same way as humans. It is something to play with carefully.

"I only think about what we shouldn't be and we'll never be, so don't get ahead of yourself."

I shrug, also unimpressed. The cigarette is still unlit, and I don't think I'll smoke it.

"So disappointing is really your specialty." I joke, approaching him in this bathroom that now seems too big. I offer it to him, and he looks at it a bit strangely. "But keep this one." I tell him, and I like to think he's smiling under the mask. The fact is that he accepts it.

You keep it, so next time, I'll come back to get it. 

And we'll smoke it together.

[laikastarrypups]

sub alpha x dom omega. the omega training the alpha to fuck them through their heat whenever they want. having a well trained, needy mutt on command to breed them and take care of their every need. the omega teasing their alpha for being so weak.

"look at you. I'm in heat and you're still just my obedient dog, doing whatever I ask. so much stronger than me and yet I have you on my leash. cmon, mutt, keep breeding me. that's a good pup."

[titania-sleeps]

Submissive Omega Yandere x Alpha Reader

hi guys it's tmr and i was able to cut down some of the words! i left out the full ver of his first heat and your first rut so that'll be a dif post

idk if i should go fully into omegaverse stuff and just give reader a dick regardless of gender (cause apparently female alphas have retractable dicks) so i'm avoiding that for now

edit: more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Rides You, First Heat

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse (heats, ruts, yknow), minors DNI pls

• Adonis and you have been fuck buddies for three years now. At first, it was out of necessity; you were both teenagers with raging hormones, and being an omega and alpha respectively meant that the two of you had a difficult time taking care of your needs on your own.

• Adonis was surprised when you proposed the idea to him in your third year of high school. The two of you were good friends by then, and you probably knew of his plight. However, his heart raced nonetheless and he wondered if you secretly had a crush on him. He wouldn't have minded if you did, since you were his type! Sadly, you made it clear to him that you weren't interested in him as a romantic partner, only as a sexual partner.

• Adonis didn't let that deter him, however. He couldn't deny that he felt a little disappointed, but he didn't think too much of it at that time. As long as he didn't fall in love with you, everything would be alright.

• Adonis fucked up. Two months into your friends w/ benefit situation with him, he'd already caught feelings. Whenever he was around you, his pulse would increase and his senses would go into overdrive. Even when the two of you weren't fucking like rabbits, his hole was dripping for you.

• Adonis cursed at himself every time he went on a date with you. (They were dates because he considered it so and he would take no other opinions.) It was especially terrible when you went shopping with him. He couldn't help himself but think about you fucking him senseless in the changing rooms. Just the thought of it alone had him squeezing his thighs, his breaths heavy.

• Adonis tried to hide it from you, but you easily noticed his rose scent growing stronger. You would pull him to the side and ask him gently if he was in heat. The worst part was that he wasn't. He was simply always like this around you.

• Adonis loved that you never asked any further questions. You would quickly take him home and tell him to strip. And strip he gladly did. He didn't have the time to prepare himself for you, but you didn't need it. In a matter of seconds, your tongue was in his hole, thrusting in and out. Your hand rubbed his rock-hard member, sliding easily with his slick. During those nights, he would cum quickly and sleep deeply, arms wrapped around your waist tightly. He would not let you leave him.

• Adonis didn't understand how you were so nonchalant. He felt silly being the only one so affected by the intimacy the two of you were supposedly sharing. He assumed that you would've bitten him already, but you were so resilient.

• Adonis tried to ignore it, and he did a really good job at doing so! Well, for about a week. He just didn't get it; he was perfect for you and you were perfect for him. Your scent intoxicated him, and he was sure that his scent affected you the same way. So why didn't you want him more?

• Adonis spent the next year grappling with his situation. It only got worse over time; just a small whiff of your scent drove his instincts insane. He needed to be bred by you, for you to mark him. He needed you to claim him, to destroy his being and rebuild him from scratch.

• Adonis had his first official heat in the middle of the day at school that same year. It came out of nowhere, and the arousal he felt was far greater than anything he'd ever experienced in the past.

• Adonis didn't bother hiding it. You were talking to your friends, but he interrupted and dragged you away by the arm, his face flushed. You were concerned, as you always were, but his eyes were clouded in need. He pushed you into the janitor's closet, locking the door behind you.

• Adonis stuck onto you in the closet, trembling. Sweat trickled down his neck, glistening against his skin. His scent was stronger than it had ever been; no longer just roses but now with a hint of lemon.

• Adonis whined, grinding against your leg. His pants were already soaking wet, the sticky liquid coating your leg. You sighed; you knew were going to miss class for the rest of the day.

• Adonis clung to you for the rest of the school year, nearly attached to your hip. You had lunch with him every day, you walked him home every day, and even your weekends were spent with him. He was so happy that you were giving him so much attention!

• Adonis suffered greatly during your last year of high school. He was so close to confessing to you, but he didn't want to lose what he already had with you. But you were glowing, your demeanor so confident and charismatic. He could see the other omegas turning their heads whenever they walked past the two of you.

• Adonis knew that if he didn't act quick, another omega would try and seduce you. He couldn't stand the thought of that, especially since he laid his eyes on you first. He would be your first and only mate. No one else.

• Adonis's heart dropped when he witnessed a small female omega confess to you under a cherry blossom tree the day of your graduation. He was planning to do that. That was supposed to be you and him.

• Adonis didn't bother trying to think when he intercepted her confession. He grabbed your arm, pressing his chest against it.

"Who is this, darling?" he had asked. The shock and hurt on her face were worth every ounce of courage it took for him to do that. She ran away, sobbing, and he was left with you and a sense of pride. No one was going to come between you and him.

• Adonis was scolded by you afterward, but he didn't care. You were his alpha, his fated mate. You didn't need any other omegas. That night, you treated him roughly, your body pressed heavily against his and your teeth baring at him.

• Adonis grinned. You were going to bite him! Surely, this was where you would finally, finally bite him. Hurry, show him what bad boys get. Show him that naughty boys get bitten, claimed against their will, and used like toys.

• Adonis was disappointed when you left the morning after, no bite marks on his body. He was being so good for you, so why didn't you claim him? Did you have someone else? Did he have to resort to murder just so you'd look solely at him?

• Adonis swore to himself that this year would be the year you bite him. This year would be your final year as fuck buddies. Next year, you two will already be mates. And if there's one thing you need to know about Adonis, it is that he mates for life.

something in me wanted to name him adonis casanova bc that would've been really funny but he's just adonis. for now.

next adonis fic is gonna be his first heat (in detail) and then maybe your first rut (also in detail),,,

-> masterlist

[yanderefarm]

yandere cultist but its omegaverse

cw; religion, cults, yandere themes, omegaverse

ill post the introduction for him later too. ive had this idea for a minute i thought it was fun. u always see yandere cult leaders wheres the yandere followers who act the way they do because they're following what they were told. wheres the yandere cultists who have been convinced that you're their chosen soulmate and will do anything to prove it to you.

also i got the dominant thing from a yaoi manhwa i dropped i don't remember what it was called but im sure this trope isn't original to the verse i just put my own spin on it

you're what's called a "dominant" alpha, it's not anything to do with your role in the bedroom and more the strength of your traits. rut inhibitors and scent blockers have no effect on you while you struggle with interest in typical omegas. but because of the rarity of the condition it wasn't often taught about in schools. trying to find a "dominant" omega on normal dating apps was practically impossible.

that's why you turned to more conservative dating apps. less likely to find people who thought dominant omegas meant strap ons and muzzles and more likely to find people who thought the term dominant omega was a sin. while you don't agree with them an omega is a whole lot easier to reason with.

thats how you met him. he was a beautiful boy with long blue hair and lovely floral dresses. all his pictures were either clearly church pictures or candid shots of him working on a farm. all you really needed to see was the marked off dominant omega trait at this point but him being a cutie was a bonus.

you checked to make sure he was what he said he was and then you two hit it off immediately. he was shy but he used the cutest emojis, lots of hearts and sparkles. you found yourself talking to him every second of every day, completely enamored by the sweetheart he was.

so when you asked if you could finally go on a date in person you were surprised to find your stark differences reared their head. you had to meet his dad before you could go on a date. sure. he's made it no secret that he's a sheltered religious boy. the comment he also added about ensuring his purity was intact was unneeded but you could get past it. he's a good person.

he's a good person who happens to live in the same Happy Homes compound you had just watched a video essay about. you were surprised... and horrified. still as creepy as the place was you were too attached to him at this point to just abandon him here. if he couldn't be convinced to leave that's one thing but you hadn't even tried yet.

his family was warm and welcoming, a few uncomfortable comments and his eldest brother wouldn't stop glaring at you but that's not unique to them. it was a relatively normal farm house surrounded by identical farm houses. what could go wrong?

you had dinner with them and they even invited you to church with them. you knew you weren't about to be convinced to join the cult so you agreed. his father let you borrow some nice clothes and you ended up taking your boyfriend, his mother, and one of his sisters in your car.

the sermon was. boring. nothing uniquely offensive that you wouldn't find in any conservative religious church. the surprising part came with the announcements. the pastor, a beta dressed in white ushered your boyfriend and 4 other omegas onto the stage.

he talked about a plan, a calling each of them had from god. they were each supposed to bring wayward alphas to the church to join them in the house of god. yeah, you could get the gist and before you could even try to stand up one of the other boyfriends did so. he was talking about how this was bullshit and he didn't buy into this crazy crap. and then he collapsed. you watched as 2 others joined him in either death or unconsciousness.

the pastor ushered you onto the stage and your boyfriend's brother dragged you up by the arms. your heart was pounding in your ears and the lights above were glaringly bright. you barely noticed when your boyfriend's arms wrapped around your own.

"and you too shall enter the happiest homes. may god bless you."

you felt your mind go numb and the next thing you knew you were on the floor.

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (07)

Don’t think I forgot about the chapter! I took an unplanned nap earlier, but I still made it (from where I am, it’s still five minutes before midnight, so technically, it’s still Monday)! This chapter was tough to write and edit (tough is an understatement 😭), but here we are! I think as I’m trying to write longer chapters, they’re becoming significantly more work (especially when I try to do it all at once). Hope you enjoy this one too!

Warning: cursing

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

06 <- 07 -> 08

Masterlist

Taglist —> if you want to be tag

When Todoroki arrived at the hospital, he paused at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of dahlias in his hand. The vibrant petals stood out sharply against the sterile white surroundings of the building, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was this a mistake? Should he have stayed home? Couldn't he have just sent an apology email or made a call instead? Why was he here, standing in front of these doors? Doubts filled him, but just as quickly as they appeared, they were pushed aside. Something about this moment—about seeing you and apologizing face-to-face—pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt necessary, like a weight he couldn’t ignore. The urge to make things right, to apologize properly, tangled with an unclear mess of emotions, stronger than his uncertainty. The thought of seeing you again was both tempting and terrifying, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

With a deep breath, he steadied himself, taking one last look at the bouquet before stepping forward. His body seemed to move almost on its own, urging him forward as if it knew better than his mind. It felt pointless to resist, and he hated not fully understanding himself. Usually, everything was clear and simple, but now, the confusion, the unknown, and the awkwardness destabilized him.

Clutching the bouquet like a shield, Todoroki walked through the unfamiliar halls. Nurses and staff gave him curious glances—heroes usually arrived with an ambulance, not alone—but he ignored their stares as he normally did when he was in public. His focus was solely inward; his heart was racing, fast, too different from its usual calm beat. As he tried to compose himself, he knew this wasn’t just nervousness; it was something else, something hard to name. Todoroki could barely distinguish it, buried under so many feelings and the he closer he got to the hero wing, the more intense the feeling became. He was painfully aware of how each steps made his pulse race, and him self-conscious of his heart pumping loudly in his chest and ears.

When he reached the front desk, he paused for a moment, swallowing, preparing himself and trying to stay composed, as the receptionist looked up at him, briefly eyeing the bouquet before offering a polite, practiced smile.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Good morning," Todoroki replied, his voice quieter than usual, and he mentally shook off his awkwardness before continuing. "I was here a few days ago, and… I was wondering if it would be possible to see the doctor who was in charge of my care during my hospitalization."

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed. After a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Todoroki. "Of course. If you have questions about your treatment or would like a follow-up consultation, Dr. Hasegawa would be happy to schedule an appointment with you."

Todoroki nodded absentmindedly, but his thoughts had already wandered. Dr. Hasegawa... So that was your name. It floated in his mind: Dr. Hasegawa, I’m sorry for my behavior, he thought, trying to figure out what he would say when he faced you. I apologize for acting so inappropriately. Please let me make it up to you... maybe I could buy you a coffee after work?, but he immediately dismissed the thought.

Todoroki barely noticed how tightly he had been gripping the bouquet, the delicate stems pressing into his fingers, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He was still lost in his thoughts, and he couldn’t understand why he felt so anxious, on top of that, now the flowers seemed like such a strange gesture. When was the last time he’d bought flowers for anyone who wasn’t his mother? He couldn’t even remember. Maybe for Bakugo? That one time? Giving you flowers seemed more and more odd with each passing second, but he knew he couldn’t just throw them away now. A small part of him was still wondering if the flowers colors would truly match your eyes, as he had imagined back in the flower shop.

This was supposed to be a quick visit, just to apology to you. He was only here to make amends—no need for coffee or flowers, no need for anything beyond that. And yet, there he was, dahlias in hands, and feeling a flutter of anticipation building in his chest, an unexplained excitement buzzing through him.

“He’s currently in a consultation but should be available to meet with you in about twenty to thirty minutes. Will that be alright?”

Todoroki blinked, startled. He? There was no he.

“My doctor was a woman,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

The receptionist looked equally confused by his words, and he checked his computer before replying. "No, the doctor who treated you was Dr. Haruto Hasegawa, and he’s definitely a man."

There was now way he could have been wrong, he was sure of it and in his memory of the moment, although blurry , he could still clearly remember you: your eyes, your hair, the curve of your lips, your hands—everything about you had looked so pretty in his eyes. He was certain it was a woman who clung to his mind, like a shadow he longed to fade with time.

“There must be some mistake,” he said, sure of himself. “A doctor came to check on me in the afternoon and I saw her, it wasn’t a man.”

“In the afternoon?” The receptionist frowned, his tone taking on a slightly exasperated edge. “It says here that Dr. Hasegawa treated you in the morning, and he was in surgery all afternoon.” His gaze flicked back to Todoroki, the growing impatience evident. “Doctors don’t usually handle post-treatment checkups unless it’s an exception.”

This just didn’t make sense to Todoroki and as he opened his mouth to argue further, the receptionist’s expression shifted. His eyes lit up, as though he’d just pieced together a puzzle.

“Wait a second,” he said, fingers flying across the keyboard once again. “It was probably Nurse Asuna Shimizu. The nurses handle most of the checkups after treatments, and according to your file, she was assigned to you during your stay.”

For a moment, Todoroki faltered. He had been so sure it was a woman—but whether you were a doctor or a nurse? He wasn’t certain anymore. Now, he wondered if he’d completely missed the pastel pink of your hospital scrubs. After all, he hadn’t exactly been focused on your uniform that day—his attention had been caught by... well, everything else about you. You were a vivid image against the foggy backdrop of his memory.

“I guess you’re right. I might’ve been mistaken,” he admitted reluctantly, though uncertainty lingered in his voice. “Would it still be possible to see her?”

“Of course,” the receptionist replied smoothly. “I’ll call her now, she should be in the break room, so it won’t take too long.”

As the receptionist made the phone call, “An ex-patient wants to see you again, probably about his treatment I don’t know. It’s a pro hero.” Todoroki stood there awkwardly and stiffly.

The unfamiliar ticking of anxiety crawled through his veins, unraveling his nerves with every heartbeat. His held his breath every time he heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he fought the urge to whip his head around, afraid of appearing too eager or worse, desperate.

The wait stretched on endlessly, and he stared blankly at the sterile hospital walls as he tried to keep his thoughts from spiraling. His palms felt clammy, and his throat dried out despite his repeated attempts to swallow. The stems of the dahlias, crushed and fragile beneath his restless fingers, bore the burden of his agitation and he prayed silently that his jittery state wasn’t so visible to anyone nearby. When the receptionist finally spoke again, Todoroki felt the ground shift beneath him.

“Oh, Asuna, you’re here. Here is the patient who wanted to meet with you.”

Todoroki froze. The wave of emotions that had been brewing all day—restlessness, anticipation, and fear—crashed over him all at once as his breath hitched. This is it, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Slowly, he turned around, as though he was bracing himself for the sight of you while the memory of your sweet peach scent tugged at him like a siren’s call, and demanded him to turn faster.

Todoroki’s heart sank at the sight of the nurse. The woman who approached wasn’t you; her hair, eyes, height, and face bore no resemblance to the seared image of you that he held in his mind. But the most glaring difference, the one that sealed it instantly, was her scent.

Scents were undeniable markers of identity—a fact anyone with a decent nose understood. It wasn’t usually a big deal; people were described as “the omega with the citrusy scent” or “the Alpha who smells like coffee beans,” just as casually as someone’s hair color or complexion might be noted. But your scent had been different. He wasn’t sure if it was his premature heat that made him more sensitive, but it had struck him like a physical blow, enveloping him completely and commanding his attention in a way he hadn’t been able to shake since.

The soft lavender and floral notes emanating from Nurse Shimizu weren’t unpleasant, sure, but they didn’t come close to the syrupy sweetness of peaches that had lingered around you. That scent—your scent—felt addictive, disorienting in its intensity, and it had burned itself into his mind more than he liked to admit. Whoever Asuna Shimizu was supposed to be, her scent clearly told him she was not you and definitely not an alpha too. Nothing about it poked and tease his omega like yours had.

Todoroki’s stomach twisted with a bitter ache. He felt foolish for expecting anything different. Maybe you were purposely avoiding him, and who could blame you? He had acted so shamefully during his heat, basically threw himself at you, and let his instincts overshadow his judgment. His mate's breaking your face had only made things horrifically worse. He was so focused on seeing you again that he forgot how serious the situation was and the guilt he felt soared from this realization, which only made him feel even more disappointed in himself. He had been acting so strangely over the past few days, wondering about trivial, selfish and superficial matters instead of how his actions impacted you. He know from experience how a punch from Kirishima could knocked you down and how disgusting unwanted sexual advances felt.

"Nurse Shimizu," Todoroki began, after he approached her maintained respectful distance. "I understand if your colleague doesn’t want to see me again. My mate and I behaved inexcusably, and I want to offer my sincere apologies. Please let her know she can contact my agency if she wishes to seek any form of compensation." He said, serious, measured and polite as possible, wanting to cause any further trouble for you or, what he assumed, your nurse friend.

It took Asuna a moment to piece everything together, before realization flashed through her eyes and she stepped closer to Todoroki, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

“When were you hospitalized?” she asked, her suspicions growing clearer after his response. Her fingers anxiously tugged at the edge of her sleeve as she pressed on, her tone tinged with nervousness. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Dr. L/n, but... is there any chance we can keep the hospital out of this? I know I shouldn’t have asked her to cover for me, but... whatever happened could be sorted out privately, right?” She let out an awkward laugh, clearly unaware of the incident between the pro hero and you, and her focus instead on ensuring her little escape from work remained unnoticed. Her eyes flickered around the room to check no one could over hear her little confession before they landed on the bouquet in Todoroki’s hands, a spark of curiosity breaking through her tension.

“Are those... flowers?” she asked, her voice a little lighter, in a terrible attempt at shifting the topic after the lack of response from Todoroki.

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yes. Could you give them to her? As an apolo—"

Before he could finish, the nurse interrupted him. "She left early that day and hasn’t been back since. But I could tell her you want to see her when she is back ?” She offered.

The words hit Todoroki like a brick. You weren’t here. You hadn’t been here for three days, and it was undeniable—he was the reason for your absence. He had spent so much time thinking about you since arriving at the hospital, yet the truth slammed into him again: his thoughts had been filled with peaches, warmth, and beauty, while the reality was far darker. He couldn't escape the image of your tears, the memory of his unrelenting grip on your wrist as you tried to leave, the sickening sound of Kirishima’s fist connecting with his face, and the heavy, metallic scent of your blood staining the hospital’s sterile white floor. Now, all he could see was the wreckage he had caused you, and the painful realization that perhaps the only apology he truly needed to offer was leaving you alone.

Don’t tell me you thought it would be that easy. The reader is over there thinking her life is over, and you think she’s just going to go back to work?

Todoroki is a mess in this chapter, blushing and acting bashful like a high schooler with his first crush (this will make sense later). But, I didn’t want to downplay what happened to the reader too much. Todoroki should at least be aware of the consequences of his actions. I thought ending on a serious note would provide a nice contrast to the silly ending of the previous chapter. God I hope I didn’t write myself in a corner but I think I’ll make it work.

I think we’ve seen enough of Todoroki for now—next chapter will focus on Izuku! I know Todoroki may seem like my favorite character in this fic since, aside from the reader, he’s had the most POV chapters (probably more than the reader), but surprisingly, he’s not actually my favorite from the group. Don’t worry, though. I’m not playing favorites in thisbdix. Everyone will get their fair share of attention and dedicated chapters. We’re just starting off with a lot of Todoroki.

2,2k words, the chapter is extra long as an apology to the wait. Oh yeah, I am still waiting on the polls results but I’ll be honest, I maybe just decide for something else.

As always, criticisms are welcome.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

06 <- 07 -> 08

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist. This taglist is lowkey getting out of hand 😭

-> If you want to tag in the next update, check out the taglist post !

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden

[plaguechyld]

Omega! Muzan headcanons? 👀

Oooo sure

I'm also kinda tempted to write omega!muzan with an enigma!reader in a full fic (for those who dont know what an enigma is in ABO terms its the rank that falls above alphas in some variations of the verse)

Contains: ABO verse, afab!muzan, omega!muzan, sexual content, mentions of pregnancy + kids, subbot!muzan, domtop!reader, enigma!reader

SFW

Omega!Muzan who is very picky about the type of fabric his clothing is made out of. If its too scratchy he won't ever wear it.

Omega!Muzan who enjoys being taken out to see beautiful secluded spots on dates

Omega!Muzan who doesn't submit alphas or betas at all and has a strong resistance to alpha pheromones.

Omega!Muzan who makes his nest extremely extravagant, even going as far as to buy a special made nesting bed that is shaped like a large cat bed.

Omega!Muzan who decorates his nest with soft lavender and down filled pillows and blankets at all times.

Omega!Muzan who likes to light scented candles in every room to help soothe him when he's stressed.

Omega!Muzan who's scent smells like toasted sugar, pumpkin and vanilla.

Omega!Muzan who takes a long time doing self care and takes baths with rose petals or bubbles in the water.

Omega!Muzan who must have dim light when he's in heat and therefore uses only his candles and not any types of lamps.

Omega!Muzan who spends a considerable amount of time curled up against [name].

Omega!Muzan who loves going to the hot springs with his lover.

Omega!Muzan who's appetite increases incredibly the week before his heat cycle starts and craves strong healthy flesh, preferably healthy women with marechi blood because they give the most nutrition to a demon.

Omega!Muzan who always demands several massages from [name] after his heat cycle ends.

Omega!Muzan who has never wanted pups before meeting [name] and now he can't seem to get the image of little ones running around and asking [name] for food...

Omega!Muzan who is hesitant to have pups because he doubts whether or not he'd be a good mother, though he always feels better when [name] reassures him about it.

Omega!Muzan who first met [name] out on the streets of Asasuka when [name]'s engima pheromones kickstarted his heat unexpectedly.

Omega!Muzan who felt drawn to [name] and didn't kill him in that moment and instead kidnapped him

Omega!Muzan who was surprised when [name] apologized for kickstarting his heat cycle and agreed to help him through it because he didn't believe that someone of [name]'s rank would do something like that.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!

NSFW

Omega!Muzan who enjoys being in a mating press during his heats because it satisfies his more carnal needs.

Omega!Muzan who loves it when [name] bites him on his thighs, chest and neck

Omega!Muzan who is a bit of a brat when he's having sex and not in heat, but he's easy to manage for [name].

Omega!Muzan who loves dressing up in soft and expensive lingerie and blushes every time [name] presents him with another set.

Omega!Muzan who adores wearing [name]'s clothing while being fucked because it forces him to be able to only smell [name] during a session

Omega!Muzan who is brought to tears really easily when he's in heat.

[stargirlygirl]

Rut Suppressants pt.1

Alpha!Shoto x Omega!Fem!Reader

Summary: You find out that Shoto's been taking rut suppressants ever since you've been together. You take them off him and get to see a new side of your husband.

Word count: 5.2k

A/n: This is PART 1 of 2. Part 2 is hyperlinked. The second part ties up all the little plot points touched on here.

🚨Warnings: Smut, 18+, NSFW, p in v, masturbation, oral sex, lots of swearing

------------₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊------------

You were typing away at your computer, responding to some dry work emails about tomorrow’s presentation. You had been working in a small team to design a new marketing strategy for your company’s latest hero gadgets. And of course, you had been pulling the weight of the team, you little hard worker. Or maybe your HR team didn’t hire the right candidates, you decide. It was easy enough though. The hard part was just getting your colleagues to look like they knew what they were doing by 10am tomorrow.

After responding to another email of “What does this mean?”, you heard the front door click open, grocery bags scraping against it. Ah, your mate is home. Finally, you smile.

You set your desktop to sleep before leaving the study. As you walk down the hallway, half-white half-red hair comes into view. He’s got his back to you. Black shirt clinging to his sweaty muscles. Must of been to the gym too, you thought. You rest your shoulder against the fridge, arms crossed underneath your chest, taking in the sight of you husband. He’s going through the bags, rummaging through them restlessly, clearly on the hunt for something.

“Need some help?” You smirk.

He turns around, blue-grey eyes wide. His expression visibly eases, slightly opened mouth forming a closed smile. “No, I’m fine. How was work?” He returns to his scavenger hunt in the bag right at his feet.

“Fine. I’ve got it under control for tomorrow’s meeting.” You push off of the fridge and come up behind him, hand on the edge of the island bench. You look over his shoulder, curious about what he could possibly be looking for. Shoto always gave you a kiss first thing whenever he came home, regardless of what had happened during patrol or of what you were doing. For him to neglect you like this was rather odd.

“You didn’t do all the work again, did you?” His voice had an edge to it… It made you bite your lip ever-so-slightly.

“You know how it is—”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” he almost growled. “You should all be doing it, not just you.” He cussed under his breath.

Okay, this was getting weird. Agitated over you working hard? I mean yea but, he usually reins it it, accepts that this job is just that for you, a job. One that you’ve talked to him about leaving. And swearing? Not Shoto. Only when y’all are… you know.

“Shoto, babe, what’s up?” Standing directly behind him, you run your hand through his locks. He hums.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine," you whine.

You watch as he starts going through the fourth bag, pulling out a small box with the label “Rut suppressants. Take as needed. Maximum dosage: five per day."

This little fucker. You snatch it out of his hands immediately, sprinting from the scene into the back of your apartment.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n] stop!” You can hear him coming after you, the sound of his feet hitting the floorboards. “Give that to me now!”

You’re running frantically, heart pounding in your chest, hands getting sweaty around the evil cardboard box. You dash into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut. Fuck! Where should I hide it?

You look around, [e/c] eyes settling on the dresser. You race over to it, emptying the contents of the box into the first draw, beneath your bras and panties.

“[Y/n]!”

Shit, he’s close to the door. You slam the drawer shut and run-stumble into the ensuite. Leaning against the door, you lock it. Okay okay, think! Think! The door knob rattles.

“[Y/n]! Open this door right now or I swear—” The silver handle is shaking now.

The toilet! You open the lid and crush the box in your hands; it makes those crinkling noises before you toss it into the trash bin and flush the toilet. At that moment, the door bursts open.

Shoto’s chest is heaving. His eyes are unfocused, frenzied. He’s panting… with anger you decide as there’s no way that little sprint could of worked up the number 3 pro hero that much. He stalks towards you, grabbing your wrists and leaning down to meet your eyes.

“What did you do with it?” His tone shocks you. His voice is so low now… and hoarse. It throws you off. “With-with what?” You breath out. You’re pretty puffed. “Don’t play dumb. You didn’t actually flush ‘em down the toilet, did you?” His face is now inches from yours.

You remain defiant, eyes staring back into his. The heat radiating from his left tickles your skin. “Um… well yea, yea I did. They’re um, yea, they’re down the toilet.” He laughs. More like barks. His breath hits your face. All you can smell is his sweat interlaced with his fresh scent.

“You’re so bad at lying, you know that?” He smirks, straightening back up. His muscles pull taut as he runs pale fingers through that snowy, silky hair. You watch as he looks around the bathroom. “Where’d you really put ‘em?” He looks back down at you, scrutinising you beneath his gaze. Your ragged breathing now hitches. “I don’t—”

“Don’t deny it!” He shouts. You shrink back instinctively.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always so controlled. Even when you’re in heat, he’s always got it together. Always able to draw back or change the pace when you need him to. That’s why you took the pills off him in the first place.

You’ve been getting suspicious for months now since the two of you got married that he’s been on rut suppressants. It just didn’t add up. After your first heat together, you had actually asked him about his ruts so you knew when you had to return the favour.

“I don’t really rut, babe.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, heterochromatic eyes averting from yours.

You laughed in response. “You don’t rut?” Your eyebrows raised. “Should I be concerned or…”

“No,” he said shyly, “it’s not like that.”

You waited for him to continue, watching as his eyes fluttered from object to object.

“I don’t get very intense ruts.”

Your brow was still quirked. “You don’t get ‘very intense ruts’? Like, you don’t get super aggressive and horny when you rut.”

His muscles relaxed upon hearing that. He looked back at you now. “Yea, it’s a minor annoyance. Nothing to worry about.”

You relaxed too, seeing that he was more comfortable now. “Trust me.” He took your hands in his larger ones. The temperature difference of both something you weren’t used to yet. “You don’t ever have to worry about control with me.” He gave you a sweet reassuring smile.

“Are you sure? I mean—”

“Trust me.” He squeezed your hands and leaned over, planting a small kiss on your lips. You grinned as he pulled back, trusting his word, however strange it seemed.

Had he lied to you? When you had announced to your friends that you and Shoto were (finally) getting married, they had warned you about that post-wedding baby fever. The endless marathon sex you two would be having once your cycles synced up. You had been waiting your entire relationship for that to happen and it hadn’t. So, once you two tied the knot wink, you had been hoping that the talk of pups would come up, but it just hadn’t. That’s when you had begun to think something was off. Even if he didn’t have “intense ruts”, he would still be feeling the urge to breed you, wouldn’t he? Or maybe he just didn’t—

“Where did you put my suppressants?” He stared you down, thin brows furrowed. “Babe…” His hands are trembling at his sides. Pupils dilated so only the rims of his irises are visible. It strikes fear and-and something else into you. Attraction? Excitement? Maybe you should try something else. Something else that’s gonna get you the result you want.

“Make me.”

At this, he frowns even more. “Make you what?”

“Make me tell you.” You take a step forward, feigning confidence, coming close to him again and tilting your head to the side, challenging him.

He scoffs. Those beautiful eyes, like solar eclipses, flickering away from you for a moment. “Make you…” He says quietly. He stares at you even more intensely now as he’s thinks it over.

It’s time to get cocky. “Yea, make me.” You stretch up towards him, arms wrapping around his neck. “I want you,” you move to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his earlobe. “My sexy Alpha,” you run both of your hands through his hair now. He groans right back into your neck, large hands palming your lower back. “To make me submit to you.”

In an instant, you're over his shoulder, his palm smacking your right cheek. He’s carrying you out of the ensuite. You’ve done it now hehe.

As he crosses the threshold, you notice the door knob was coated in ice, hanging there, limp. Looks like you’ve gotta add fixing that to your to-do list tomorrow. He throws you like a stuffed toy onto your plush bed. His shirt’s already coming off, rippling contours all for your pleasure. Yea, make that a ‘to-do next week’.

Large hands already besides your head. Lean arms, meaty thighs, delicious toned frame caging you in. You’re forced to stare into those mismatched eyes. Not like you’d want to do anything else anyways.

Your breaths intermingle, just like your scents. He just stares at you, licking his soft, full lips. Afternoon light from the adjacent windows makes your figures glow. You love the way it streaks through his hair, and he loves the way it catches on your pretty pink lips. He thumbs your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth. You lower your chin, taking his thumb into your mouth. You circle your tongue over the top of his thumb before tasting the pad of it. It’s cold, like a popsicle you suck on in summer. You can think of another ‘popsicle’ you’d rather be sucking on right now.

“I… I-I don’t…” His brows are knitted together once more. Pupils wavering between dilated and contracted, showing off those blue and grey hues you love so much. You stop what you’re doing with your tongue, opting to place both of your hands on his cheeks. His thumb leaves your mouth but rests on your chin.

“I don’t know if… if this s-safe.” You can’t stop yourself from giggling a little. What a cutie. “Pookie, of course this is safe. I was made for you. You know that, right?” You smirk. You’re a feelin’ like a cocky little shit today btw if you didn’t get that. This man’s shyness inflating your big dick ego.

“Of course I do but…” He averts his gaze, looking at your ear instead. “But?” You continue. However, he doesn’t respond. He just moves his hand from your chin and tucks a strand of [h/c] hair behind your ear, which has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You do wanna hurt me but don’t wanna admit it?” You tease. “No! No, of course I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes shift back to yours.

“Shoto.” You squeeze his cheeks gently. “I’m your omega. If you hurt me then you can just make it better.” You bring his face closer to yours. “You can make it better, can’t you?” You whisper.

He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. “Y-yea,” he replies, voice low, “I can.” That last part coming out with more confidence. “Good, then don’t make me dom you, Alpha. That’s kinda embarrassing for you.” You giggle whilst leaning up to him and finally, kiss him.

You both moan into it, feeling the relief washing through you two. But quickly, it’s not enough. It’s far from enough. He growls into your lips, changing his tilt. You follow his lead. You like that. His tongue grazes your bottom lip and you part immediately for him. The tangle that ensues is soul-gripping, bone-shaking, mind-blanking, breath-taking…

Your fingers are gripping his locks. His fingers are gripping the hem of your thin white tank top. Saliva, don’t know don’t care whose, if dripping from the corners of your mouth. His exhale is your inhale and vice versa. He catches your lower lip between his teeth. His sharp canines sending tingles throughout your entire being. There’s nothing that gets you slicked up like a lip bite from your Alpha.

He pulls away, you two panting. Not that the reprieve is sufficient or long-lived. Soon his lips are sucking and nipping your earlobe and that sensitive spot beneath your ear. You whimper out his name. “Shoto”, “Alpha”, “Daddy”, maybe “Babe” or “Honey”… yea, those, they’ll be the only words you know for the next week.

He nips at your mating mark, the beautiful white scar just above your left collarbone. He continues biting it, almost re-piercing the scar. You can’t help the moan-mumbles that tumble out of your mouth. Already, your wetness is soaking your blue lace panties and beginning to slide down your inner thighs. “Fuck,” Shoto breathes out into your other ear. You shudder at the word, one hand sliding down to his shoulder.

He continues at it, licking and sucking and kissing and biting at your neck. Soon, his fingers are tearing through your top. You mewl at the sensation of him ripping the torn, flimsy fabric off your body. His hands reach for your bare breasts, cupping them completely. Those long fingers begin pinching at the sensitive flesh. Your body responds instinctively, moaning, small hands grasping his wrists, breaths catching in your chest and throat. He fingers your nipples before bringing his mouth down to you, lips ghosting the hard peaks between his fingertips. He takes one into his mouth, eliciting a delicious whimper from you. His warm tongue circles your nipple as you did to his thumb, but just so much better.

You’ve barely gotten started and yet, you know never get enough of this. No matter how many times he’s done and will do this to you, and so much more, you’ll never be forever satiated. You just can’t be.

He moves to the other, keeping your now wet left breast covered by his cool palm. Fuck, that feels good. More moans spill from your mouth as he continues his ministrations. That slick is at your knees, probably. You can’t really tell cause it just feels like a wet, sticky mess down there at this point.

“Shoto,” you whine. He groans in response. “Hurryyyyy up,” you drag out that ‘y’ as you mewl. You shudder as he chuckles against your tender skin. Tender from his bites and sucking, of course. “You want me to go faster?” He pulls away from your breast, face coming back close to yours. You whine and nod your affirmation.

“But if I go faster,” he strokes your cheek softly with the back of his index finger, “you’ll miss out on all the fun.” His finger trails down to your chin, gripping it tightly but playfully with his other fingers.

Damn, you’re getting wetter by the second. He’s doesn’t usually tease you during your intimacy. Prefers that slow, soul-binding kinda love-making.

He just smirks at you before moving back to his painstakingly slow kisses and sucks on your breast. He only moves down to your ribs once he’s satisfied and you’ve probably soaked the bed sheets with how much he’s turning you on. It’s driving you insane. No. He drives you insane.

Shoto’s hands wrap around your ribs, feeling their rise and fall, and their ridges. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing each rung. He keeps those eyes on you. All cocky. He knows what he’s doing to you and he likes how pathetic it makes you for him. And you can’t help but like it too.

After thoroughly kissing and touching every part of your torso, your arms, your everything really, he’s finally fingering your low waistband. You sigh relief and begin wriggling, trying to get those pants off as fast as possible, but your Alpha is still having none of it.

“Be patient,” he growls as he squeezes your clothed inner thigh, your flesh perking up between his fingers. “But Alpha—”

“I said,” he stares you down, this dark look in his eyes, “be patient.” You whine, “Yes Alpha.”

Hearing your compliance, he loosens his grip on your thigh and begins kissing your hip bones and skin just above the band. Fuck, he’s really killing you this time. I thought alphas were all, “Let’s bang. Now. Hard.” when they’re rutting but, I guess not. Maybe, Shoto didn’t completely lie to you by saying that his ruts were different to other alphas. Or maybe, he just wants to tease you for once.

You’re brought back to reality when you gasp reflexively to him biting into your inner thigh through your wet pants. Wet as in soaked and clinging to your hot skin.

“You’re not focusing on me.” Shoto’s voice is low, raspy. Fuck, you love it when he talks like that. Especially just after he’s woken up and you two have some fun together before getting up.

“And you’re not even focusing on me right now.” He bites even harder into your thigh, breaking through the fabric and pulling little red dots to the surface of your now swollen, marked flesh. “I,” you breath out, so it sounds like ‘hi’ and not ‘I’, “I thought you wanted me to be patient.”

“I want you to do both. Can you manage that? Or is that too much for my little girl?” He’s got a shit-eating grin across face. Since when was your husband such a tease, and such a good fucking one at that? It’s the years of pills, you decide.

“N-no, I can’t manage. Help me m-manage.” You imagine that you must look like some blubbering, whimpering mess right now, and you’re not even naked yet. And he’s not even naked yet. “Okay,” his grin widens.

Licking those glorious lips, those lips that you want on yours and not the ones on your face if you know what I mean, he pulls away from your thighs. He gets up from the bed, taking off his grey sweatpants and briefs. And fuck, you’re not ready for what meets you. For real. Swollen, hard, precum dripping down the shaft.

He smirks at you as he grabs his cock with his hand, moaning on impact. His other hand comes up to his face, finger pointing to the side of his mouth. At this point, your sitting up, thighs to calves, legs spread wide, dragging your wide eyes up and down his body.

“You’re drooling.”

I would say that you blushed at hearing this, but you’re already red as fuck in the face with how hot he’s been making you. You’re embarrassed and laugh it off, hand coming to wipe that spit from the side of your mouth. Yea, that was definitely yours and not his from earlier. That had already dried.

“W-well, how can I not when,” you take a deep breath in and look back up at him, “when my husband looks this good.”

“Have I got your attention now?” That rasp. That will be the end of you. Or the end of these bed sheets, whichever comes first. You nod feverishly. “Good girl.”

Ah fuck. He’s praising you. Fuck. That’s it. If that dick isn’t in you within the next three minutes, who knows what will happen next. You start shuffling over toward him when he stops you.

“No. You stay there. I want you to watch.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, amused by your reaction as you realise what’s going on. Is this how this twisted fucker wants you to help you 'be patient' and 'focus'? By not letting you touch him? And by not touching you?

“I can’t. No. Babe. No please.” You’re shaking your head vigorously, already rising from the bed when his hands find your shoulders and push you back to sit down on the edge. “Watch.” His voice is commanding, absolute.

You’re forced to obey your alpha and sit there helplessly as he pumps his veiny cock with those veiny hands. The precum now all over his dick with even more leaking from the tip. His dick that should be in you right now. His eyes are trained on you, observing every stuttered breath you take in, every time you bite the side of your lip, how focused you are on how he’s pleasuring himself. That feels even better than his hands ever could. Fucking hell.

“Can I—” You start.

“No. Just watch.”

“Not you but my—”

“No. Watch.” His tone is stern. His voice strained.

Fuck. If your hands were bound then this would be so much easier, but no, you’re forced to hold back from touching yourself by your alpha’s command and your own self-discipline. You doubt that you’re even allowed to rock your hips right now.

You watch as his movements get faster and now he’s panting. His eyes half-lidded and tongue darting out across his lower lip every so often. You can see the sweat beading on his chest. You start whining, wanting to be the one touching him like that. What you wouldn’t give to just… just have him right now.

“Please,” you begin. Which becomes a slew of please daddy, please, please let me touch you, please, I’m sorry that I took your suppressants, I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry Alpha, I’m sorry that I wasn’t being patient or f-focusing on you, please Alpha, please let me touch you, please, please, please, please… You don’t stop. You can’t stop. All you can do is sit there, slick drenching the sheets below you even though you’re lower half is still clothed, and plead for your alpha to fuck you.

His pale hips jerk forward and you can tell he’s really close. Would he even let you swallow it? But he stops. He stops and comes over to you, collapsing onto you, arms around your shoulders and neck. “Shoto,” you squeak, but it’s muffled by his weight falling onto you. He huffs into your ear and you just rub his back.

“Tired already,” you jest, but he’s not in the mood to play with you anymore. “Enough. I can’t cuddle my wife?” He mumbles grumpily into your shoulder before taking the flesh between his teeth. You hum, “You can always cuddle your wife, but I’d like it more if you fucked me.” He chuckles low, right below your ear. You feel it vibrating through his throat and chest. “Yea, I bet you would.”

He holds you for a little longer before pulling back, peeling his sweaty body off yours.

“Alright, I’ll give you your reward,” he smiles lazily, even showing off one side of his pearly whites. You squeal with delight. “Finally!” “Oi, settle,” he says as positions you so that he’s between your legs, spread wide, slowly pulling both pants and panties off you. Oi? “So, you’ve been on patrol with Dynami—”

“Don’t mention him,” Shoto growls. He’s been doin’ a lotta that today and you like it. A lot. “Or anyone else right now. It’s just you and me.” You nod submissively. You really should stop riling him up sometimes. But you can’t help it. You’re a cheeky little shit after all.

The relief that engulfs you once those dreadful clothes are off brings out a sigh of pleasure from you. He doesn’t make you wait any longer. He’s already at the source of your heat, lapping up your slick like it’s the elixir of life. To him, it is. You whimper and mewl as his tongue makes its’ way between your folds. It feels so warm and wet, perfect against your swollen lips. You relish in the feeling of what he’s doing to you.

Shoto eats you out like he’s been starved. Greedily, hungrily, in a frenzy. Without a break for air, he keeps going. That tongue, those long digits curling inside of you, his lips, all making you shake and mew. The whimpers and words leaving your mouth are unholy and impure, some real nasty shit. Only he can get you like this. Only he can have you saying shit like, “Fuck me however you want, daddy.” Or, “Knot in me, alpha! Breed your little omega!”

Once he’s had his fill, he moves away from your core, grabbing your hips and flipping you over, onto your stomach. His fingers are back at your folds, playing with your clit and teasing your entrance, drawing more filthy moans from you. You feel him move on top of you, straddling you. He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with what you’ve been craving for this entire time.

You moan loudly as he fills you up, completely, inch-by-inch. He groans as you draw him in, tight walls clenching around his girth. He stays still for a few moments, allowing you to get comfortable, before he sets a brutal pace. You hands are by your shoulders, gripping the sheets as he fucks you.

Your body is shaking, contorting to his every rough thrust in and out. It’s got your mind absolutely filled with how only your mate can do this to you. You can’t even form a sentence. You mewl, over and over, to the sound of your skin slapping harshly together. Your mingled groans and moans, all that dirty shit dripping from your mouths fill the room. It’s humid. Sweat coating your bodies. Your hair is stuck to your forehead. Your favourite part — besides from how tight he’s gripping your hips, likely (and hopefully) leaving bruises on your soft skin — is how deep he gets. His tip reaches that perfect spot, making your toes curl and knees bend, before he draws back out, and he does it again and again.

“Sh huff sho moan shot huff to." He grunts out in response. “Sho huff sho huff I huff.” Fuck, you can’t even get the sentence out. That’s how brain fucked, how body fucked, this man’s got you. “What?” He growls. He’s breathing hard, you can hear it, and it makes you drip even more and he can feel it. “Use your words, baby. Moan What is it?”

The filthy sounds of him pounding you fills your ears. The squelching of your juices around his length. You can’t even remember what you were trying to say. Oh! That’s right! “I-I whimper Shoto whimper Sho fuck moan I’m moan I-I’m gonna,” your voice is quiet and breathy, but he still hears you clearly.

He can feel your thighs beginning to shake, the way your pussy tightens and then releases, and he knows what you mean. “I know,” he grunts again. You continue to moan, feeling your climax coming in hard n’ fast. You gotta know if— “Just hold on for me, alright. Just huff just hold on.” You whimper in response. Not cum yet? You don’t know if you can do that. “I’ll try—”

“You will wait for me.”

Your moans and mewls get louder as you get closer, as does his growls and grunts. Even if you can’t wait for him , it doesn’t really matter, you still benefit.

He picks up the pace. You never even realised he had this kinda stamina. But, you should of known. He is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’.

It feels impossibly more pleasurable. It’s like he’s surrounding you. Every thrust is godsent. You couldn’t escape the pleasure of this moment, even if you tried. Your orgasm is building and building, threatening to crash down on you any second now.

“Shoto!” You cry out. You’ve got tears in your eyes. Your shaking, trembling, convulsing as you climax. You squeeze around him hard, sending him over the edge with you. You’re sobbing and screaming at this point, as you feel his knot swell and plunge into you. Thick, white, hot ropes spilling into you. Filling you completely with his seed. Fuck.

You ride out the high together, him rocking into you and you rocking as much as you can manage back into him. Breathing out, he leans down, pulling you back and laying you two on your sides. You groan at the movement, still experiencing those last minute tremors of your orgasm. His legs intertwine with yours, arms wrapping around you. He strokes your head, drawing you close into him as you both calm down. You sniffle and he takes this opportunity wipe the tears from your eyes.

You giggle, “Thanks, honey.” The words dampened by your sudden emotional outburst. “Anything for you, love.” He kisses the side of your forehead and moves to grab the blankets and pull them over you two, up to your chin. You snuggle back into him, hands grasping his forearms, a mindless smile spreading across your face. “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”

He remains silent for a few seconds, before groaning into your hair. It still smells like fresh cut strawberries in the midst of all the scents filling the room. “Only if you tell me where you hid my suppressants.”

“Than I’m never telling you!” You squeal. There ain’t no way you’re gonna give up this side of your alpha just yet. “Hey, that’s not what you should be saying.” His voice is low, bordering on a growl. “Sorry for not following your script.” And now you’re the one wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You know,” he shifts, now leaning over you and narrowing his doe eyes at you, “if you insist on acting up, then maybe I will just have to fuck you through this rut of mine.” “I hope you do,” you smirk even wider. “’Course you do,” he grumbles, laying back down again, nose buried in your hair.

You two lay in silence until his knot goes down, and he can finally pull out. He turn you back onto your stomach and pulls the blankets back, drawing out slowly, making you moan. His cum gushes out, further eliciting moans from you.

You can feel it dripping down your the back of your thigh. Shoto watches, enjoying the sight. Though, before he’s realise it, he’s got his fingers inside of you, finger-fucking that cum back into you. You can’t help but start whimpering and moaning even louder as you feel him fingering you.

“Shoto…”

He draws his fingers back out, letting the cum drip out again. He’s tempted to slide them back into you so that no more escapes, but he refrains from doing so, knowing that you two need to talk a bit more about kids than just “Do you want kids? Yea, I want kids. Do you? Yea, sounds good.”

He clears his throat, “I hope you’re ready, baby.” He wraps his hand around your waist and turns you over, onto your back. Your eyes find each other. The sun’s setting, illuminating how wet and dewy and bruised your soft flesh is.

You breathe out, smiling happily, “I’m ready.”

[runariya]

For prompt game: ⚽️🐺🥸🤫

(By the way, i'm so happy it's open again, your stories are amazing 🥰)

Hear me out: an Alpha boxer Jungkook, whose son Koda is on kindergarden, being taught by our lovely omega reader.

But Jungkook is a workaholic, always trying to get his son and deceased mate proud, so reader is upset with him because he never attended any school meeting, by now his son sees her as a mother figure, and relies on her to take and get him home everyday.

One day, school ends early and reader gets to wait for her dearest student's father with him, Jungkook walks in, all bloodied from winning another fight, and finds not only his sweet boy being nurtured by a pretty omega, but also gets asked by Koda to make this nice lady his mother, maybe also get him a baby brother to play with ? And who is he to deny his son something ? Besides, the house is too big for just the two of them, and what's the use of making so much money if you don't have a loving omega and pups waiting by the door ?

(I think this is yandere because he straight up decided she is his mate now, but that's up to you. Also feel free to change or ignore this if you don't like it. Hugs and kisses ☺️)

(sport+ABO+"yandere"+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: Alpha boxer!Jungkook x Omega teacher!female reader genre: ABO, smut warnings: explicit sexual content, breast play, dom!JK, a bit of begging, teasing, size difference, unprotected sex, bonding, marking, knotting, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 3.079

a/n: soooo....i loved this ask sm! another one with full fic potential 😩 but i hope this suffices. i know it's uncommon, but jk's found a whole new bond with OC. I'm a romantic at heart, and she needs a mate k? lol so forget yandere, i made it work this way lol hope that's okay! also, sending hugs and kisses right back~ 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss ___, can I have a baby brother?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the clasp of Koda’s jacket as you kneel in front of him. His wide eyes are fixed on you, innocent and full of curiosity, like this is the most natural question in the world. You can’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, even though your heart gives a little lurch. Koda always manages to catch you off guard with these questions, his mind always a few steps ahead.

“A baby brother?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you finish zipping up his jacket. “That’s a big request, don’t you think?”

Koda grins up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your coat. “But I really want one! I told Daddy, but he didn’t hear me. Maybe you can tell him?”

You try not to let your expression falter, but the mention of Koda’s father always stirs up complicated feelings inside you. Jeon Jungkook. The Alpha who is never around. The man you’ve never met, despite teaching his son for almost a year now. He’s a ghost in Koda’s life—and by extension, yours. You hear his name in passing, from teachers, other parents, even Koda himself, but you’ve yet to put a face to the name.

Jungkook’s reputation, though, precedes him. A professional boxer, always on the go, always training or fighting, always… absent. Too busy, too consumed with his career to attend any of the parent-teacher meetings, any of the school events. You’ve never seen him pick Koda up from school. Not once. It’s always a nanny or some assistant, but more often than not, it’s you who ends up driving Koda home when no one else shows up.

Like today.

You try not to let the frustration settle too deeply in your chest, but it’s hard. Koda is five, and he’s growing up without the attention he deserves. You know it’s not your place to judge, but you can’t help the resentment that builds up every time Koda looks up at you with those big, beautiful but hopeful eyes, asking for things his father should be giving him.

“Sweetheart,” you coo gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I can’t make that decision for your daddy.”

Koda’s face falls a little, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he shrugs, a small sigh escaping him, and his little hand reaches for yours. “Okay, Miss ___.”

Your heart aches for him. Koda is so sweet, so full of love despite the gaps in his life. You’ve grown attached to him in ways you probably shouldn’t as a teacher, but it’s hard not to. He’s become a bright spot in your day, and lately, you’ve begun to wonder if he sees you as more than just his teacher.

The way he holds your hand, the way he looks for you in a crowd—it’s not unlike how a child looks at a parent.

You’ve caught glimpses of it, little moments where Koda will reach for you when he’s tired, or how he asks if you’ll be the one to pick him up tomorrow, like you’re something steady in his life.

Today, though, you’re the one driving him home again. Jungkook didn’t show up, and his manager who was supposed to pick him up called to say he was stuck in traffic. After half an hour of waiting and with the sun starting to dip, you decided you’d take him yourself. You always keep a spare car seat in your car now, just in case.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say softly, standing up and holding his hand as you guide him out of the classroom and towards the car park. Koda bounces along beside you, chattering happily about his day, blissfully unaware of the nagging frustration building in your chest.

You buckle him into the backseat, making sure the car seat is secure, and he leans back, kicking his feet excitedly. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the fact that his father isn’t there again, which only makes you feel worse. Koda’s gotten used to it, hasn’t he?

The drive to the Jeon estate is familiar by now. You’ve done it more times than you can count, navigating the quiet streets until you reach the tall iron gates that lead to the massive villa. The place is intimidating—cold, imposing, and entirely too big for a single man and his young son. You can’t imagine it ever feels like home to Koda, not the way it should.

When you pull up in front of the house, Koda’s little face lights up. He unbuckles himself as you open the door for him, hopping down and grabbing his backpack from the seat. His small feet patter on the stone driveway as he makes his way towards the front door, and you trail behind, waiting to see if anyone will come to greet him.

“Bye, Mummy!” Koda calls over his shoulder, throwing the words out casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches in your throat. Mummy. The word hangs in the air between you, sinking into your skin, your heart.

“Koda—” you start, your voice faltering, but he’s already bounding up the steps, completely unaware of the storm he’s just stirred in your heart.

Before you can process what’s happening, the door swings open, and the nanny—an older woman with kind eyes—waves him inside. You stand there, frozen for a moment, watching as Koda disappears into the house, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Bye, Mummy.

He didn’t mean it, you tell yourself. He couldn’t have meant it.

But the way the word settled in your heart tells you otherwise.

•••••••••••🐺��♥️🐺•••••••••••

You glance at the clock on the wall, frustration gnawing at your patience. It’s almost six, and Koda is the last kid left in the classroom, his little legs swinging back and forth as he hums to himself, completely unaware of the time or the fact that, once again, his father hasn’t shown up.

You sigh, pushing aside the stack of papers you were grading and standing up. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and you know it won’t be the last. But today, something feels different. You’re tired—exhausted, really—of making excuses for Jeon Jungkook. Of stepping in when he doesn’t. Of watching Koda sit there with that hopeful little smile, waiting for a dad who never seems to come.

“Stay right there, sweetheart,” you tell Koda, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with wide eyes and nods, still playing with the puzzle pieces on the table. You step out into the hallway, pulling your phone from your pocket, and swipe through your contacts until you find the number you’ve been avoiding calling all day.

Jungkook’s number.

You’ve never actually spoken to him, not directly. It’s always the nanny or the assistant, someone else standing in for him, making excuses on his behalf. But today, you’ve had enough. If he can’t be bothered to show up for his son, then maybe he’ll listen when you lay it out for him. You press call, the phone ringing in your ear as you lean against the wall, occasionally peeking back into the classroom to check on Koda.

The ringing stretches on far too long, and just when you’re about to hang up, there’s a click on the other end. But it’s not Jungkook.

“Hello?” A deep male voice, but not the one you were expecting. It’s his manager—another gatekeeper between you and the man who should be here for his son. “Who’s this?”

You swallow the irritation bubbling up in your throat and answer, “It’s Koda’s teacher, ______. I’ve been waiting for someone to pick him up for over two hours now. Where’s Jungkook?”

The manager clears his throat, and you can already hear the excuse forming in his voice before he even says it. “Ah, yeah, about that. Jungkook just finished a big fight a little while ago. He’s still dealing with press and recovery, so he won’t be able to make it. We’ll send someone to get Koda.”

You close your eyes, the frustration mounting. You’ve heard this same spiel too many times now, and it’s always the same. Always some excuse about the fights, about his busy schedule, about why he’s too important or too caught up to come pick up his own child.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice tight, barely holding onto your patience. “But this has gone on long enough. Koda has been waiting for hours, and it’s not fair to him. If Jungkook doesn’t pick up his son in the next hour, I’ll have no choice but to contact youth welfare. This is unacceptable.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence on the other end, and you wonder if maybe you’ve finally gotten through. The manager stammers a bit, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m sure we can get someone there soon. There’s no need to—”

“Jungkook. An hour,” you cut him off sharply. “That’s all the time he has.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your hands are shaking with a mixture of anger and guilt. You’ve never been one to throw around threats like that, but you’re at your breaking point. Koda deserves better than this—better than a father who seems to have forgotten what it means to show up for his son.

You peer back into the classroom, your heart clenching when you see Koda still happily playing, completely unaware of the tension outside. He deserves so much more than this.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling longer than the last as you sit back down at your desk, your eyes flicking to the clock every few moments. With every passing second, you feel the frustration building, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You’ve done everything you can for Koda, but you’re not his mother, no matter how much he looks at you like you might be.

Then, just as the clock ticks closer to the hour you’d set, the door to the classroom swings open.

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. You feel it before you even see him—the shift in the air, the sudden prickle at the back of your neck. There’s a strong presence that fills the room, something that tugs at a part of you that you didn’t realise was waiting.

Jeon Jungkook.

When you finally glance up, your breath is lost in your throat. He’s standing in the doorway, still dressed in the aftermath of whatever fight he’s just won. His knuckles are bruised, lip split, his jaw clenched, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive. Dark, intense, and far more focused than you ever expected.

Your heart stutters in your chest as your gaze locks with his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seems to fall away. The anger, the frustration—it all pushes into the background as something else entirely takes its place. It shouldn’t be possible, not when he’s already found his mate—his late mate, who passed when Koda was just a baby. A bond like that is meant to be for life, unbreakable, irreplaceable. And yet, here it is, something deep and undeniable, something that shouldn’t exist but does.

You blink, forcing yourself to break the eye contact, but it’s too late. You’ve felt it. He’s felt it. That connection, that pull.

And suddenly, everything is different.

Koda turns his head slightly, peering up at his father with wide eyes, and then—without a hint of hesitation—screams at the top of his lungs, “Daddy, can you make Miss ___ my mummy? And maybe give me a baby brother?”

For a second, you’re convinced you didn’t hear him right. Surely, Koda didn’t just blurt that out in front of his father. Surely, this isn’t happening. But when you glance at Jungkook, the look on his face tells you that, yes, this is happening. His dark eyes glimmer dangerously, and for a brief moment, a smirk lifts at the Alpha’s lips.

You stand up quickly, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Koda, you can’t just—”

“I’m serious!” Koda insists, his voice high-pitched with excitement. He’s bouncing on his toes now, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Miss ___ is really nice, and she makes me happy! And I want a baby brother, too!”

You don’t know what you expect him to do. Maybe scold Koda. Maybe just walk out. But instead, Jungkook finally breaks the silence with his voice surprisingly quiet and melodic voice. 

“We’re leaving. You too.”

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

How you find yourself pressed against Jungkook’s bedroom door after having dinner and putting Koda to bed is beyond you, but you don’t question it when you’re too busy enjoying Jungkook’s searing hands on your body and his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck.

“My pretty Omega,” he licks a stripe up your throat, ending right at your earlobe as he husks, “you’re mine, hm?”

The whimper and moan escaping your throat can’t be held back, not when his hips press into your clothed cunt just right.

“Yes.”

You’ve never felt this aroused, this high on an Alpha’s scent as you do now, though you reckon it’s just what a mate does to you.

Jungkook rips the top of your dress in half, taking your bra with his powerful pull and leaving your heaving chest exposed to his hungry eyes. His hands are on your tits in an instant, kneading them together as his tongue laps from one nipple to the other, sharp teeth grazing the pebbled tips ever so carefully.

“Jungkook,” you moan, thighs squeezing him a bit closer, hands gripping his hair desperately.

“What do you want, baby?”

“You, just you.” You moan, head hitting the wall as another wave of arousal soaks your panties.

Your head swims from the undeniable strength Jungkook has as he carries you to his bed with ease, and when your back hits the mattress and he rips his own shirt in two, you think you might come there and then. You’ve felt his muscles while you were groping each other, but seeing his physique is maddening beyond words. You regret not watching one of his fights before, just to not be so utterly shocked and bothered by the sight alone.

And as you rub your thighs together, Jungkook emits a low growl, “Stop.”

And you do, whimpering as the little relief you had is now gone too.

“Please, Jungkook.”

“I’ll ask you this one time, and one time only. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want that bond?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking strip.”

And you do, hastily removing the torn dress, bra, and your panties from your trembling body, eyes never leaving Jungkook as he leisurely unbuckles his belt and gets rid of his clothes as well.

His dick springs out of his boxers, the red, leaking tip pointing at you as if aiming where it needs to go. Your mouth waters at the sight, salivating with the same need that has your cunt soaking the sheets.

“Open up,” he demands, and you do, tongue outstretched as he starts jerking himself off, teasing your lips and tongue with his precum and the weight of his big, girthy cock.

“You want to suck it, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap up to his, dark, blown-out pupils scanning your face, but you’re only able to nod ever so slightly.

“You look so small,” he muses, and he’s right. Compared to his cock, your head looks like a miniature, making your thighs again rub needily against each other, knowing he’ll stuff you full, no matter which hole he chooses.

“Should I prepare you, or can you take it?” Jungkook smirks down at you.

“Can take it,” you need to, because God forgive you, you need him inside you now.

Jungkook just chuckles, but he doesn’t argue as he crawls onto the bed like he’s chasing his prey. You push yourself backwards, enjoying this little power play as much as he does. It’s when you’ve nearly reached the head of the bed that you let yourself lay back, Jungkook now hovering over you and pushing your legs apart.

“My beautiful Omega,” he inhales deeply, and you can’t do anything but press your cunt against his tip, letting him slip inside.

At first, you fear he’ll pull back again, but as he groans ever so slightly and starts thrusting, inch by inch, you know you’ve got him.

“Oh my God,” your eyes roll back as your cunt finally adjusts to his sheer size, and he begins moving his hips with strong, slow thrusts, making you cling to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

“___, baby.” Jungkook growls, savouring the taste of your lips like it’s pure honey. There’s nothing you can do but surrender to him, surrender to the bond tying you together with each stroke of his cock.

And just before your high hits you, as Jungkook overwhelmed you mere hours ago, you turn your neck, offering it to him. But he tilts it ever so slightly, just enough for you to have a clear view of his too, spotting nothing but bare, smooth skin where once another mark was. 

You shatter the moment your teeth sink into his flesh, causing him to pick up his pace and bite down as well, groaning through his release, hot breath brushing against your skin as his nose presses into you.

The knot that forms is more ecstatic than you ever imagined, fighting against the clamping of your cunt and leaving you lost in yet another release. And while you’re tied together, you’re licking your marks closed, still breathing heavily, Jungkook cradles your head in his big hands, guiding your lips to his in a kiss more loving than you ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never let you down again, never let Koda down again.” He promises between kisses, diving into your mouth as if it’s the air he needs.

“I hope you won’t.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too,” but you sure as hell won’t believe him until he says it fully dressed and with post-nut clarity.

[fallenneziah]

More 09 trans!ghost smut for my dudes.

Cw: Gloryhole, trans!ghost, 09!Ghost, amab reader. A/B/O dynamics. Blowjobs. Getting to the point where I kind of just want to make a male OC for my little man Riley.

A/n: I bring you more food. *Shakes bag*

You knew Ghost wasn't yours. Of course your side of base had gotten up to some lasting habits the last little bit including marking down those going away for their heats. You had ways of dealing with it. Especially since Captain MacTavish was being handed as many under the table favors as you were.

You didn't mind it. You didn't mind trying to do some paperwork and feeling the intense heat filling the room from under your desk. Smelling pheramones that licked off the paint on the walls and stung your nose.

Feeling Ghost's fingernails digging into your thighs, throat relaxing as he sloppily caught the spit that dripped down your balls with his tongue. Looking up at you as best he could while he pressed his face flush to your groin. Moaning and soaking himself in your scent and your skin.

Ghost certainly wasn't yours. But you had every right to be jealous of him. He was the town whore for his captains and COs. The recruits very rarely got to have any of what he could offer. You were just lucky you were in his roster of cocks to suck when he felt like it.

He was extremely professional off the field. But as soon as he felt he wanted it or that heat set in. Simon Riley was a changed man.

He wasn't one to get embarrassed either. So seeing him waltz into your office was no shocker. Nor was him walking over to your desk, pulling his hoodie over his head, tossing it in the corner of your office and then promptly shoving his face in your crotch.

"Well you're proud aren't you?"

He'd only huff, waiting impatiently for you to give him the word, before you finally leaned back and spread your legs, letting him unzip your pants and pull your cock out. Stroking the flaccid length, pulling up his mask to get his warm mouth over the soft head.

Crystal blue eyelids fluttering as he pressed himself down into you.

Riley was your good boy as far as you were concerned. Fuck the sounds coming from MacTavish's room or hearing him taking a pounding from a second lieutenant he had been avoiding all day.

Today you felt particularly on edge for one reason. Simon's heat would be starting sometime. He'd not been acting well the past couple days so it was clear that you were right. But you hadn't seen Simon since then.

And that made you upset. Knowing he could be in heat and he went to someone else before you.

Your jealousy kept you from doing work, getting up and wandering the halls. Just get it out of you, maybe hear Riley taking it in that pretty pussy.

You walked near the bathroom, hearing the door swing open and a recruit walked out. He zipped up his pants, looking around and spotting you. Quickly he rushed away embarrassed, not wanting to be caught up in whatever was happening.

Odd. You went to the bathroom, pushing open the door and hearing chuckles and groans. Sounds of sex filled the air, the smell of lingering sharp wine filled with putrid semen slicking the floor.

One of the lieutenants saw you, unsure if you would be in on what was happening.

"What's going on?" You asked, but it didn't take long for you to catch one particular scent you knew well. Peppermint candies and kindle staining the walls of scent. Hitting you like a blast of cold air on a summers day.

"One of the soldiers is in heat." The lieutenant said. You saw two of the bathroom stalls open in either side of one locked stall. You knew them well. The inspection team could never figure out what the holes were for.

You squatted, bending down to see familiar shoes and bunched combat pants. You grinned wickedly, feeling arousal stir in your gut. "Slutty boy..." You muttered, standing.

"You know which one?" You asked, knowing they wouldn't. They shook their heads.

You didn't waste any time. You walked to the stall to the right, seeing the kid in there pressing his groin further against the hole in the stall. Breathing heavy past his lips and bucking lightly.

You touched his shoulder, making him jump. "I-I-"

"Times up kiddo."

He blushed, gripping the top of the stall divider and screwing his hips a few more times, no longer able to draw out his orgasm.

A slick pop could be heard,followed by a sharp deep breath from the middle stall. A low groan, and a jostle on the stall dividers meant someone had found their new spot across from you.

You ushered the kid out, sloppily he wiped his cock and shoved it, still hard and throbbing in his pants.

You didn't feel much remorse, closing the stall door and locking it. No one came in until you were done.

You slowly unbuckled your belt, bending down to the hole. "Riley~ you're being a bad boy." You said lowly.

You heard a soft whine, seeing a hand reach through the hole, wiggling fingers. You grabbed it, pressing his fingers to your lips.

"Please."

You could tell he was desperate, the smell was almost sickening.

You pushed him back through, undoing the flap of your jeans and pulling the zipper. You pulled your cock out, slowly stroking it, feeling the veins pop and your cock grow hard just from the thought of his lips pursed around your swollen head.

Pre-cum slowly built up on the tip, and you fed it into the hole, feeling warm breath sweep across the tip. You shuddered, keeping your thumb pressed on the base of your cock. You couldn't see him, but you felt him jostle, his lips brushing your cock, moaning a little.

From the second stall down, someone was having their fun, their cock burrowed deep inside Riley's dripping tight cunt.

Simon took your cock in hand, slowly licking it, lapping at the pre-cum before going over the head. Your cock pressed into his throat, feeling his tight reflexes tense around your fat length.

It was hot. The noises, the groans, the slapping skin and squelching juices. You couldn't help yourself, thrusting forward and forcing him to take more of you, his nose brushing against the stall divider.

He pressed his palm flat on the divider for stability, forcing his throat to relax and awkwardly bobbing his head on your cock.

You could imagine sparkling blue eyes leaking tears down freckled pale cheeks. Choking and spitting up saliva, tongue feeding against the bottom of your cock as you force him to take more like a big boy.

But this wasn't enough. Not for Riley, or for you.

"Come on, you're taking your sweet ass time."

The voice next to you said, a cocky attitude and a rough accent.

"You can wait your fucking turn." You replied, knowing exactly who was behind that door. You chuckled, groaning softly as Riley's lips sucked your cock, pushing himself down, choking and then pulling away. Saliva dripping from his sore, raw lips to the tip of your swollen cock.

"You know, Riley. You're really a slut."

Riley let out a soft moan, his body shaking and jerking as he was taken.

"F-Fuck... Captain please..."

You hummed lowly, urging him back onto your cock. You felt pride knowing without even seeing him you could coax him back to your cock. Knowing that Riley was rightfully your slut no matter what anyone said. "Fuck... Suck it like you mean it. I know you can do better that that." You gripped the top of the divider, forcing your groin flush against the hole.

His warm wet mouth and throat were perfect. Tight and hot. Just for you.

"Good boy, good boy, choke on it, come on, I know you can, you fucking slut, you love sucking me off, don't you, taking my thick cock and letting everyone hear."

Riley batted tears away from his eyelashes, his knees feeling weak as he felt seed pooling into his cunt. He choked, forcing himself down on your cock, tongue lapping at the underbelly of veins as his own orgasm dripped into his messy pubic hair.

It felt so hot. He couldn't remove one more inch of clothing but fuck. This was all he could do to combat that feral little beast inside him that wanted to ride cock until his hips fell off or someone put a baby in him.

Wanting to drive seed from you, wanting to taste it, to enjoy it like he always did. He continued to suck, your hips pressed to the cold stall wall, hearing choke and feeling him swallow. Your orgasm building up, your cock pulsing in his mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, Riley, I'm gonna cum, gonna fill that pretty mouth, gonna make you drink every last drop. God damnit you're a good fucking boy, aren't you?"

Simon only sucked. Kept his mouth going and busy. With one last swallow you groaned, shooting your load in his mouth. His gag reflex went haywire, trying to swallow and coughing on the thick spend.

Pulling away from your cock and choking it up down his chin, dripping into the floor. He panted, swallowing thickly to recover. Your cock still twitching in the hole, leaking the last drops.

"F-fuck."

"I know you're not done."

The other stall door closed, a recruit stumbling out, looking back to make sure they weren't caught, and left the bathroom.

Simon panted, knees shaking. You slowly pulled your cock away, wiping what Simon didn't get and tucking yourself back into your jeans. "When you're done you know exactly where to go."

You fixed your belt and opened the stall. Letting the soldier waiting impatiently inside. You still heard Simon choke and pant, knowing you seared his insides with another imprint. Still your slut, still your hole, no matter how many other men thought they could fill him full. You'd always, always exceed.

[msgexymunson]

One Slow Blink Part 2

Second part right here due to Tumblr restrictions

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give? 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 1

You must have fallen asleep like that, as once your eyes open it looks to be almost night, the sun dipping past the horizon. The light slipping past your makeshift curtain is a deep red. You ache all over, especially your shoulder, but it doesn't stop you from smiling. 

At some point he must have pulled you on top of him, both arms circling you possessively, holding you to his chest like a child's doll. His member has slipped out of you; you can feel the stickiness of his release coating the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. 

Breathing changes as he stirs beneath you, opening his eyes in a squint. 

“Hey you.” 

He murmurs a soft sound from his chest, licking your cheek with his long tongue. 

“Ew! Eddie, you've got dog breath.” 

“Charrrming.” 

You laugh, hitting his chest playfully, shifting above him so you're straddling him.

“We better get cleaned up, I've got to get to the hospital in a few hours.” 

Eddie whines, grabbing your hips as you try to stand, pushing your wet heat against his twitching bulge. 

“Eddie…”

You breathe out in a warning, but it sounds too needy. He's not listening, rubbing you back and forth over his swelling length. 

“Eddie I don't think I can take another round, you were- oh fuck-” 

The sentence falters as he catches your clit, setting a thousand butterflies loose in your tummy. 

“I’ll… be gentle.” 

You hiccup a little laugh, staring down at him with a raised brow. 

“I don't think you can.” 

“Forrr you… I can.” 

You reach out to stroke his fuzzy cheek and he nuzzles into the touch. The affection he shows from that simple gesture has you relenting, guiding his member into you, slipping in easily, his previous sticky release helping its journey. 

Sitting back and allowing yourself to revel in the beautiful stretch, you experience that familiar wash of relief, a calm caressing your very soul. Eddie seems to feel it too, letting out a long breath as his shoulders lose tension. 

“This feels right,” you confess, hand running down his chest, “like, like-” 

His gravelly purr interrupts your spill words, reverberating through your ribcage. 

“Like you… werrre made forrr me, sweet-hearrrt.” 

It's much slower this time, more of a languid grinding as you both move against each other, that undercurrent of need more of a smouldering heat, rather than the unquenchable fire from earlier. Eddie pants as he watches you, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as you reach your precipice, your eyebrows knotting and body shuddering around him. 

Falling against his form, entirely spent, skin glowing with sweat, you hold onto him as he chases his own release. True to his word, he's much more gentle, gripping your hips and moving you to meet his shallow thrusts. You see his snout scrunch when he's on the brink, just before he pulls you off of him and holds you to his torso. You can feel his cock pumping out his orgasm against your stomach, glueing the pair of you together. 

“Eddie, you didn't need to-” 

“Last time we werrre… stuck togetherrr, for half hourrr.” 

You giggle, astonished at his words. 

“Really? Damn, I must have fell asleep.” 

“You did. Couldn't move. Was… nice.” 

Reaching up to play with the fur on his cheek, you think about what he just said. 

“You know, I think that's knotting. You know, like d-”

“If you say… dogs…” He warns, winding a finger in your hair and tugging gently. 

“Fine. Canines.” 

He grabs you, holding you in place as he slathers your face with his tongue, drooling all over you. 

“Eddie! Yuck, stop, stop!” 

“Thought I was… dog. This is what dogs do… rrrright?” 

You squeal loudly trying to extricate yourself from his hold. 

“OK, OK! You're not a dog! Stop!” 

He finally relents and you get up, unpeeling from the sticky skin and matted fur of his stomach. 

“Right, I'm gonna have a shower before you start humping my leg.” 

He snaps his teeth at you playfully as you leave. When you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you see why your shoulder hurts so much. There's teeth marks in it; pinpricks of broken skin tinged with blood. They aren't deep, but the redness around them looks like it's going to leave a hell of a bruise. For some reason, you're not mad. The opposite in fact. It feels like a claim. You are his, and this is so the world can see. 

Once you're clean and relatively dry, you go into the living area to find some food, throwing on one of Eddie's new t-shirts. It may as well be a dress, the hem kissing your mid thigh. 

Something doesn't feel right though. Suddenly there's a rolling in the pit of your stomach, a sense of impending doom. The light streaming through the partially boarded windows is still an ominous red. Risking a look, you peer out of the slats and see the sky. 

It's flashing red and blue, as if there's an enormous thunderstorm boiling the heavens, but there's no sound. It looks unnatural, colouring the landscape around in the same foreboding hues. You feel hot, and sick. 

Eddie barrels into the room with a towel still around his waist, tackling you to the ground. 

“Eddie, whats-” 

“Stay low… some-thing coming… smells wrrrong.” 

You whisper as quietly as you can.

“What can you smell?” 

He takes a moment, snuffling at the air with his eyes closed. 

“Outside… woods, dirrrt. Frrriends, coming. And… can't ex-plain in worrrds. Sticky… chem-i-cal… pulsing… grrey blue. Wrrrong.” 

You suppose that's what you get for asking a question about something you can't possibly understand, what with the stark differences in your senses. You try a different tact.

“Have you… smelled it before?” 

“Differrrent… but, similarrrr… to up-side-down.” 

There's the shoe that you were waiting to drop. Now the feeling in your gut made sense. 

“Eddie, you said… friends were coming?” 

“Harrrrrington… and Henderrrrson forrr surrre… smell the damn hairrsprrray.” 

In spite of the situation, you giggle. He flashes his teeth, dropping his guard for just an instant. 

There's a powerful knock at the door that makes you jump. Eddie leaps up and flings it open with such force that it slams into the wooden wall sending dust flying. 

You just about make out the figure of a girl with a shaved head and a bloody nose who thrusts an outstretched hand toward Eddie. Dustin's voice rings out behind her. 

“Elle no!” 

There's a strange force, like a gust of wind with no air that buffets around Eddie's snarling form. You feel it pulling you, ripping you backwards as you roll across the floorboards. Eddie seems unaffected, not moving from his spot. 

“Eleven, stop! You think monsters wear pink towels??”  

The girl looks baffled and turns to where Dustin is running forward, waving his arms wildly. Steve is following quickly behind. They both look battered and bruised. As Steve comes into focus you see his entire front is covered in blood. 

Instincts kicking in, you shoulder past Eddie and run toward him. 

“Steve, what happened!” 

“It's alright it's not my blood. Eleven, this is Eddie.” 

Ah, Eleven. It makes more sense now. The powers, the shaved head. 

“Who- is she?” 

Eleven stares at you with a confused expression. You introduce yourself, and explain what you think you are. 

“...I'm, er, Eddie's girlfriend.”

Eleven's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. Dustin, however, can't possibly stop the words spilling from his mouth. 

“Girlfriend?? Seriously? But-” 

“Henderson, focus! That's not important right now!” 

“I was just asking, Steve!” 

“Well don't we have other stuff we need to-” 

“Hey!” 

Shocked, you realise the shout came from you. 

“Everyone, just calm down and get inside so we can talk, OK?” 

Your words seem to cut through all arguments as everybody makes it inside, standing and looking at you for direction. Attempting to keep the authoritative air you've managed to concoct, you order them to sit down whilst you and Eddie get dressed. 

When you're no longer feeling so exposed, you come back into the living room holding Eddie's hand. 

“Right now, Steve, you first. What the fucks going on?” 

He weirdly looks at Eleven first, who gives a curt nod. 

“Right, right, so, it's a little-” 

Dustin cuts in. 

“-Vecna's back from the Upside Down with his Demogorgons and bats and stuff and they're taking over Hawkins and we need Eddie Dog to help defeat him!” 

Stumbling back a little stunned, your wide eyes search his vainly for the sign of some prank. There is none. 

“So… you're saying there's monsters in Hawkins??”

Steve responds calmly, juxtaposing Dustin’s trembling form.

“ ‘fraid so. Nance and Hopper and everyone else are holed up in the library. Everyone left in the town’s there. Well, everyone who's not dead or ran away.” 

“Wait, so Hopper’s alive??” 

“Yes! He was captured by evil Russians but Mrs Byers got him back and-” 

“Alright, alright,” you hold your palms up to Dustin, “what does Eddie have to do with this?” 

“Listen, Henderson's got this theory that Eddie's… powers… came out so he can stop Vecna.” 

“But that's absurd, he was bitten!” You turn to Eddie but he looks just as shocked as you. 

“Yeah but, we've seen a lot of people today who've been bitten by something. No one else changed.” 

“Exactly,” Dustin says, grinning, “Eddie's got super strength now, he's all healed, I bet he's got other powers.” 

Eleven starts talking unexpectedly. 

“I tried to throw him. He did not move.” 

“See!? He's a superhero.” 

“So, wait, Eleven can't throw him,” you begin, “but that doesn't mean she can't throw stuff at him. What's to stop Vecna throwing a car or something?” 

Everyone looks at Eleven.

Wordlessly, she focuses on a lamp that sits on a side table. To your astonishment, it begins to float in the air, then hurls itself at Eddie with remarkable force. Then the strangest thing happens. It hovers a few inches from Eddie as if stopped by an invisible barrier, then falls to the floor uselessly. 

Silence. You break it, voice splitting as it goes high pitched with worry. 

“Right, but that doesn't mean Vecna can't hurt him, just because Eleven can't, right? Right??” 

Eddie's the one to respond, holding your hands in one bearish paw. 

“Sweet-hearrrt, they'rrre rrright… I can help… I should help… need to prrotect the Shirrre… prrrotect you.” 

“But-but-” Tears well in your eyes as you stare back at him. 

“I need to… otherrrrwise… I am… this… is all a waste.” 

You nod, but pull your hands from his and walk into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. The pain is too much to bear. It does make sense, if you were being rational, but right now you aren't rational. Nothing about this is rational. You've just found the love of your life and you might lose him to this stupid fight. 

Fuck. You love him.

It's finally clear. The feeling in your stomach, the draw you have toward him, the fire in your veins, in your heart. You barely know him, but you love him. 

And now that might get ripped away because of some damn fight that shouldn't have had anything to do with him in the first place. 

You perch on the bed, head in your hands as tears leak down your cheeks. There's no fight in you to stop them, grieving for something that hasn't happened yet but seems inevitable. There's whispering in the other room, plans being made, but it all sounds like it's underwater, drowned by the power of your tears. 

After a while, Eddie opens the door and shuffles in the room, sitting down on the bed next to you. He slowly starts to explain the plan to you, how Will can sense when Vecna or the monsters are near, how Elle will help clear a path, how he has the strength to defeat him, since Vecna's powers are all he has. He doesn't have the speed or strength that Eddie does. 

There's a loaded quiet when he's finished. You're angry, wiping away stray tears fiercely from your face, but you're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation, at Vecna, at the Upside Down. Angry at the powers that seem to be pulling you apart. 

“Fine. But I'm coming with you.” 

“No,” he snarls, pulling his arm around you, “they need… heal-ers. You… can help.” 

“But what if- what if you get hurt?” 

“Won't.” 

“Promise?” 

Staring up whilst you are brimming with tears, he cups your face, looking back at you with soulful eyes. 

“I'll do… everrry-thing I can.”

“No!” You shout, tears falling once again as your face heats up, “you can't say that, they say that in the hospital and people die!”

Wringing your hands, flipping them over and over each other in your lap, you barely notice Eddie falling to the floor in front of you. 

Then his burly arms are circling you, his maw pushed into your abdomen, inhaling you deeply, sweetly. It stops your incessant fidgeting, fingers resting in his long locks. They wind into his hair, twisting through to massage his scalp as he purrs into the flesh of your stomach. 

“Eddie, if you love me you'll come back to me. Do-do you love me, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, deep chestnut eyes searching your face. 

One slow blink. 

There's a soft knock at the door and Dustin opens it. 

“We have to go soon. Are you ready Eddie Dog?” 

Eddie growls low in his throat, swivelling to face him on all fours, hackles raised. Dustin immediately attempts to backtrack, arm raised to try and protect his face. 

“I mean, I didn't mean- it's from the demogorgon, you know, demodogs, Eddie Dog, I did think DemoEddie but Dog-”

Eddie pounces, pinning Dustin to the ground. Dustin's eyes scrunch shut as he screams, voice breaking in terror. 

“Shit shit shiiiiiiiiiit!!!” 

You giggle inanely as Eddie licks Dustin's face wetly. He bounds off him and shoots a wink at you, before lending Dustin a hand and dragging him to his feet. 

“I am not… a dog.” 

Dustin is laughing in relief, nerves racking through it. 

“No you're not, I'm sorry I'm sorry-” 

Steve appears in the doorway. 

“Guys, get in here.”

All mockery forgotten, you make your way into the living space in silence. 

“Steve, what's going on?” 

“That's just it. Listen.” 

You all stop, ears working in overdrive as you all try to hear what he hears. Breaking the quiet spell that had drifted over everyone, you speak. 

“I can't hear anything.”

“Exactly. Don't you get it? All over town, all through the woods, there's been these things. Demogorgons, bats, horrible things. But here, there's nothing.” 

“Eddie, you smell anything?” 

Eddie closes his eyes, snout wiggling in effort as he opens his preternatural senses. His voice rumbles out in its usual gravelly purr.

“That scent… it's herrre, it's on them… up-side-down smell… therrres nothing close by… except a few deerrr.” 

Steve holds a hand up, stage whispering to you.

“He can smell that?” 

“Yes… and hearrr acrrross rrrooms.” 

“Sorry big guy, I just- that's awesome.” 

Dustin is beaming, staring at Eddie like he's a superhero. Steve continues, making sure he's looking at Eddie, you notice, keeping him in the conversation. 

“So, if those things aren't nearby… maybe, maybe they're afraid of him? Hate to say it but I'm starting to agree with Dustin. Maybe you're supposed to be like this Munson.” 

Sighing in acceptance, you turn to Eddie. 

“Fine. If you think you can help you should go. Don't let me stop you. But you have to come back to me.” 

He gives you a slow blink, and you nod, accepting fate. Then you move into action, grabbing the partially used trauma kit, along with anything else you think might be helpful. Everyone else is doing the same, as if they were waiting for your approval. 

Pretty soon you're being bundled into what appears to be a stolen pick up truck with Eddie sitting in the back, as you race back into town. 

If you could call it town anymore. 

Your mind rolls to every post apocalyptic movie you've ever seen, but none of them compare to it happening in front of your eyes. Crumbling buildings that you recognise send spears of hurt through your heart. Over there, the gas station where you bought your first underage beers, now a smoking wreckage. On your left, the drug store where you used to pick up your mom's prescription, cracked and half buried in rubble. 

A cloud of chattering sound passes quickly overhead; you hear Eddie growling low as batlike creatures wing their way to another destination, seemingly unbothered by your presence. It's either that, or they don't want to tangle with your boyfriend. You pray that it's the latter.

Steve takes a sharp left turn and you fling to the side in your seat. 

“I thought we were heading to the library, isn't it that way?” 

“Yep, if you wanna cross a gorge. The roads opened so wide that nothing can get through.” 

The enormity of the situation is sinking into you, winding around your spine, fear clasping you in its unwanted clutches. 

Ignore it. Don't recognise it. Turn your back on it. There's people that need your help. 

Steve pulls up a few yards away from the library, and you clench your jaw, telling your tears to fuck right off. Now is not the time for tears. 

You and Dustin jump out of the truck, and he rushes to the library to bring everyone who needs to be part of this final stand. A final stand that doesn't involve you. A final stand that has the love of your life sitting front and centre. 

Running around to the back of the truck you grab Eddie's head firmly in both your hands. 

“You- you remember what I said? You need to come back to me, you hear me? ‘Cause if you don't I'll kill you myself. Get it Eddie? You do this and you come back to me!!” 

Eddie holds your hands in his enormous paws, enveloping your soft flesh instantly. Nuzzling his snout against your cheek, he breathes in your ear. 

“I'll come back… to what's mmine.” 

You press fierce hot kisses to the soft fur of his face, over and over, until he pulls you from him, holding your hands away. 

“You love me Eddie. I know you do.” 

One slow blink. 

In an instant, he's gone, quieter than snow. Falling to the floor, you hold your head in your hands, crushed by the barbarity of the situation. 

You didn't say it. You didn't tell him you love him too. Saying it out loud would make it more real. Saying it out loud would make the pain worse if you lose him. 

Soft fingers pry at you, leading you onward, inside. In a daze you follow, feet on autopilot as you clutch the trauma bag in front of you like a shield. 

Inside is a bustle of activity, a hive of ants that all have a purpose and none of them involve you. You're guided gently down onto a seat and the insects run about, fetching food, water, bandages. It all seems to be happening outside of you, following a rhythm that you can't hear. 

“Hey, hey!” One of the swarm seems to be addressing you. Tilting your head, you look towards them. It's an older woman; half her face is concealed by a makeshift eyepatch. 

“You're a doctor, right? We need someone over here now!” 

Instincts take over. Legs rising of their own accord, they march over to a camp bed that's been set up. Another woman lays there, breaths shallow and humanising. There's an enormous gash in her side. 

“OK OK, I can help, just don't move too much, I'll try and stop the bleeding.” 

Then the next person. And then, the next person. 

Mind floating into a subconscious haze, your memories take over. That situation before at the hospital, the textbook you once studied, a hypothetical conversation with a doctor. You take it, all at once, power beyond what should be possible, but you do it. 

You do it for him. 

Minutes pass into hours unseen as you tear through every available useful item, every strip of gauze from your bag, until it happens. 

A pain so profound that grips your shoulder and your heart hard enough for you to look around for the shotgun. It emanates out of the bitemark, pulsing into your veins with alarming force. 

“He's hurt.”

Collapsing to the side, you hold a firm hand to your own heart, as if you could will it to slow. Legs give out from under you, your rear landing on the hard surface behind. For a minute you sit, unable to move, unable to think, wondering why everyone around seems so controlled. Don't they realise your entire universe is shattering into splinters before their very eyes? 

There's a hand shaking you by the arm, someone asking if you're OK. They lift you, place you in a seat, and keep asking, and asking. Your tongue feels heavy, unable to form words to explain the hurt you're feeling. This deep hurt is rooted into your bone marrow; heavy, hard and cold. 

There's a familiar face in front of you, a round childish face with curling boyish locks and a worried expression. Dustin. 

“Hey, you there? Can ya hear me?” 

Nodding wordlessly, you point to your chest, directly over your heart, eyes wincing in pain. 

“Did you get hurt?” 

You shake your head, and manage one word. 

“Eddie.” 

Before Dustin can respond, Nancy runs in, face covered in grime and dark blood, panting for breath. 

“They… did it… Hoppers here with Eleven. The gates are closed. But, Eddie-” 

Hearing his name you rush back into your body. 

“Where is he?” 

“Steve and Jonathan are taking him back to the cabin. He's unconscious. He’s… in a bad way, but he's alive.”

He's alive. 

“I need to get to him. Dustin, grab any bandages you can find. Nancy, you got a car?” 

She nods and leads you outside. The sky has quietened, no longer flashing in supernatural colours. Looking upward, you  can almost believe this is a normal night in Hawkins. Taking in the streets, the truth is far from it. 

Three monstrous things lay on the sidewalk, covered in some slimy substance and splattered in unnatural blood. Their skin has a blue grey sheen to it, and their limbs are twisted awkwardly. Their heads seem to have been split open, but then you realise it's just one gigantic mouth, unfurling like a gristly lily. The fleshy petals are lined with dozens of tiny sharp teeth. 

You press a toe to one of them nervously. Its head lulls to one side, utterly lifeless. 

“Hey I got the band- Holy shit!!” 

Dustin's voice cracks mid sentence, then he sighs in relief when he realises the monsters are dead. Nancy calls at you both to hurry and you bundle into the car as she races through the cracked, ruined streets of Hawkins. 

The gas station, the shops, town hall, it's all unimportant. What matters is getting to Eddie. You need to save him. 

Suddenly a heavy feeling in your chest lifts, but not in comfort. It's as if someone's tugged a weighted blanket off of you, exposing your vulnerability for the world to see. Eddie's presence, once a firm hold coddling your heart, is reduced to a whisper of a thought. Gossamer threads tie you instead of lead ropes that you hadn't even realised were there until they were nearly gone. 

“Nancy, we need to hurry, he's almost gone!” 

She doesn't question how you know, just presses her foot to the accelerator and bombs through Hawkins and onto the familiar country road. She gets as near as the woods will allow, until you're yanking the door open and continuing on shaky legs, feet pounding at the bracken and tears streaming from the corners of your eyes. 

A singular thought races through your mind with each footfall. Save him. Save him. Like a heartbeat. 

The cabin starts to appear out of the darkness, the lights inside a beacon of hope. As you reach the front door it flies open, Steve standing in the frame. 

His hair is sticking out in every direction; part of it is plastered to his forehead with blood. A bat with nails in it is hanging limply at his side and his clothes are torn. There's gashes in his front, as if gigantic claws had swiped at him. Previously you would have stopped, gaping at his wounds in horror and done anything you could to help, but after everything you've seen tonight they seem almost trivial. 

“Is he here?” 

Steve takes a deep breath in, swinging the bat at his side as if on instinct. 

“He's here, I guess. He was awesome, then- he wasn't him, in the end. He's not said a word after Vecna, then when Mrs- well, he passed out. Just, be careful.” 

You nod and shoulder your way through, past a long haired guy with the intense expression who you assume is Jonathan, and into the bedroom.

It's a familiar scene, so much so that it borders on comfort. He's strapped down to the bed, a belt wrapped around his feral maw. His breaths are shallow and wet sounding. A snarling whistle of a snore escapes on each exhale. 

His wounds are deep, much deeper than before. There's blood pooling at his side from a gaping wound, it looks like one of those bastard monsters took a bite out of him. That seems the worst damage, that and a bite on his shoulder that almost mirrors your own. You'd laugh at the irony if you weren't so upset. On top of that, there are so many scrapes and claw marks and bruises that it makes your heart ache. 

“One of you, come in here and help me.” 

Steve appears in the door frame, bat held high as if Eddie were about to pounce. 

“Steve, put the bat down. I need your help cleaning these wounds.” 

He lowers his arm and moves nearer to you, but doesn't let the bat go. 

“I don't think you get it. When Vecna- when he realised he couldn't hurt him, those demogorgons got him. He fought three of them at once and then he… well, he tore Vecna in half. Since then he's not… he was a beast. Tried to attack me and Hopper, until Mrs Byers whacked him over the head, knocked him out cold. I'm not sure he's Eddie, anymore.”

There's a tug at your heart, a spindly web like thread that pulls you to your love. 

“He's weak, but he's there. I know it. Help me clean these wounds and bind them before he bleeds out.” 

The two of you work in silence, Steve flinching when Eddie stirs, but he doesn't wake up. When the hole in his side is padded with gauze and tightly bound with bandages, you work on the rest. There's just so many injuries, it's a wonder he's still alive and hasn't bled out yet. 

When it's done, with Eddie patched and bandaged as well as you know how, you collapse onto the floor, hands on your knees. All you can do is wait for him to wake up. That's if he wakes up. If he wakes up as him, and not some mindless beast. 

“Listen, you've done what you can. You're awesome, really.” 

Steve's hand grasps yours on top of your knee. 

“If he's gonna come back for anyone, he'll come back for you.” 

The smile he flashes melts your heart as he gets up to leave. A second later, he returns with a musty blanket and a worn cushion. You take them gratefully and get comfortable on the floor, hoping against hope that your love wakes up. 

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

A roaring growl shatters through your nerves and startles you awake, rocketing through your senses before you have a chance to think. Hot breath blows across your face, messing your hair and making you blink in its turbulence. 

Eddie's on all fours on top of you, crouched low and teeth bared, bindings in tatters all about you. The belt is gone from his jaw; you can only assume he managed to break it with sheer force. A dribble of slobber hangs from his maw; for some reason it's all you can focus on. It wobbles in your vision, as you scramble for some way to get through to him.

He barks roughly, snapping his teeth barely an inch from your face. 

“N-now, you listen to me, Eddie!” 

Your voice squeaks, belying the stern demeanour you're attempting to convey. He growls low, crouching even further over you, giving you an undeniable urge to flee. You can't, not with Eddie on top of you. Not just that, you know deep within your bones that if you attempt to escape, you're dead. 

It suddenly dawns on you that it doesn't matter. You could just throw yourself out there and be eaten. Sure, it'd be painful, but since he's hovering right over your jugular it'd probably be quick. Living without him seems far worse. Or, you might just succeed, and live. 

There's no time for hesitation and pleasantries. So, you grasp the fur around his maw and clutch it desperately, fingers winding into his pelt. His eyes widen, jaw closing slightly, and you take the opportunity to pull his head closer. Your forehead sits flush with his, searching his eyes for any sign of the Eddie you know. 

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me! You know who I am! Can't you smell it? My smell, your smell? You're mine, and I'm yours. You promised you'd come back to me! So do it, come the fuck back to me or I swear I'll kill you myself!” 

Releasing one hand, you pull your t-shirt over your shoulder and show him the mark he left you. 

“You see this? You know what this is? Remember, Eddie!” 

There's a flicker in his hard gaze, a flash of something that just might be your Eddie. Pressing his snout to the mark, he inhales deeply. Then, he's pressing his jaw to yours, nuzzling your neck with his nose. Moving your head to meet his affection, you rub your faces against each other. The tension in the room dissipates as you finally start to see the human behind the beast.

As he pulls his face away, you stare deep in his eyes. 

‘I love you Eddie Munson. I knew you'd come back. You had to, because you love me too. Right?” 

One slow blink. 

Then, he's falling to the floor on his side, seemingly exhausted with the strain. There's no way you'll be able to get him back into the bed, so you throw your blanket around you both and snuggle into his warm pelt before you fall asleep in his arms. 

When you finally wake up, he's still asleep breathing heavily through his nose. The breaths sound much better than before, a stark difference from the heavy, wet sound he was making previously. 

Every joint hurts from sleeping on the wooden floor. You stretch in place, click your elbows, and glance back down at Eddie. 

Even a few hours seems to have helped Eddie with his recovery. The small grazes you didn't bother to cover up are completely healed; just tiny fine lines of scars are all that's left, like the inking of a delicate pen. 

You try to stand up but Eddie's heavy paw is resting on your hip, keeping your back flush to his torso. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, half ashamed to disturb him, “I need to move, my back hurts.” 

One chestnut eye blinks roughly at you then opens, shrivelling from the light pouring through your ad hoc curtains. He's not said a word yet, a fact that is eating your insides up with worry, but you don't mention it. 

He pushes himself off of the floor, managing to stand shakily before flopping to the bed. Even this small movement has him exhausted beyond what should be possible. 

“Eddie, do you want me to get you something to eat? You know, to help the healing?” 

Those soulful deep eyes bore into you, stretching time for just a moment. Then he blinks deliberately at you, twice. 

“No? So, what can I do?” 

Wordlessly, he holds his arms out. You crawl into his embrace as he clutches you to his chest tightly, as if he's scared you'll run away. You couldn't though. Not now, not ever. 

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

After a few hours, he's breathing deeply, and you risk moving to the living space. Once you enter you see Steve and Jonathan there. Nancy climbs out of an armchair and makes her way towards the group, diplomatically standing exactly between them. 

“We didn't want to disturb. How's he doing?” 

Nancy's soft voice breaks the quiet and you allow her a small smile. 

“Great. I mean, he's healing like crazy, seems to be something he can do, and he remembers me for sure. He's not spoken yet, but give him time.” 

She beams at you, then flashes a thousand watt smile at Steve. Shaking her head slightly, apparently at her own actions, she grabs Jonathan's hand and gives it a squeeze. You don't miss the slight frown that flickers on Steve's face, or the little wanton appraising look he gives Jonathan. It's funny, viewing something from an outsider's perspective. They're the perfect little threesone and they don't seem to even know it. 

There's a stirring noise from the bedroom and you run immediately toward it. Eddie's sitting up in bed; it looks like he's trying to inspect the hole in his side with clumsy fingers. 

“Hey, it's OK Eddie, don't touch it. I'm gonna look after you, alright?” 

A flicker of relief passes across his face and he settles down into the mattress, placated. 

You inspect the wound; his recovery is remarkable but there's still a way to go before it's healed. By rights he shouldn't be breathing at all. 

“It looks good, it'll take a while to heal completely but I think you're gonna be alright.” 

A large hand reaches tentatively to your face and cups it, shaking slightly with the effort. His face scrunches, an internal pain crossing it that seems too much to bear. Then, words emerge. 

“...love… you.” 

Instantly welling with tears, you cup his hand in your own. 

“I love you too Eddie. Now sleep, you need to rest. I'll bring you some water, and some food in a while to get your strength back up.” 

He blinks slowly at you, then settles his head back into the mattress, palm dropping from your cheek almost instantly as he falls asleep. You take the cushion from the floor and anchor his head up, slipping it underneath so he doesn't strain his neck. 

Staring at him for a moment looking so peaceful makes your eyes well. Wiping furiously at your face, you disperse the tears and turn towards the doorway. 

“You alright?” 

Steve's standing there, thankfully no longer holding a bat. You nod and walk out of the room with him, after a final glance at Eddie's sleeping form. 

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

Now the danger has passed, the rest of them leave to go get some much needed sleep. The snippets you've been told about the battle for Hawkins sounded bloody and taxing, they all need to recuperate. 

When Eddie starts eating you breathe another sigh of relief. It's a good sign. He seems to be having trouble again with picking things up and using words but it's getting better by the hour. 

Collecting a bucket from outside, you fill it with warm water and grab some soap and a washcloth from the bathroom, then take it to the bedroom. Eddie's sitting up in bed, having just finished a whole chicken. He's licking juices from his furred fingers when you walk in. 

“Hey, that good? Want any more?” 

“Good… forrr now.” 

You smile at him and waddle over with the heavy bucket. Placing it on the ground with a heavy thud, you soak the cloth and add some soap to it. 

“What… doing?” 

“Oh, well you've got too many bandages on for me to clean you in the tub, so I thought I'd wash you in here, if that's alright.” 

Flashing his teeth in the epitome of a wolfish grin, he purrs out a response as he whips off the blanket covering him. 

“Hot nurrrse…. Giving me… sponge bath? Yess please!” 

You roll your eyes but you're smiling as you do it, and help him wriggle out of his sweatpants. He's naked, cock already kicking up with your proximity. 

“This isn't about that, Eddie!” 

“-Orry.” 

“And don't just drop your s'es to be cute, I know you can say them!” 

He gently grasps your hand in his and you melt just a little. 

You start cleaning him as best as you can, tenderly mopping in between the bandages, taking care to remove as much of the crusted blood and grime as possible. 

As you work, you feel his furred finger curl under your chin, guiding you to look at him. 

“Eddie?” 

“You… rrreally carrrre about… mme, don't you?” 

Trying to move out of his grip shyly, he holds your chin firmly waiting for your reply.

“I mean, yes, of course. I told you Eddie, I love you.” 

Damp fingers twine in his thick burly hand. His eyes are on you but seeing through you, deep in thought. You squeeze his fingers in encouragement. 

“What's on your mind, Eddie?” 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. 

“It's stu-pid… I just thought… when it all ended… when gate closed… I'd go back… be norrrmal.” 

Emotion floods those brandy hued eyes, you force a lump in your throat to go away. 

“Eddie, you've never been normal,” you say, smiling at him, whilst he growls a little chuckle in his throat, “but that's not a bad thing. You're different Eddie. You've always been different. You're odd, and funny, and intense. I love you, and not in spite of those things. Because of them. Because you're you.” 

Eddie roughly rubs a hand over his eyes to disguise the tears. 

“Love you… what the fuck… did I do… to deserrrve you.” 

“Don't know, but it must have been pretty awesome.” 

You smile as you finish cleaning him, drying him off as best as you can, and let him get more rest. It seems each time he naps his healing quickens exponentially, so you encouraged as many as you could. 

It was late evening by the time you saw him again. You had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, curled up wearing Eddie's black t-shirt and nothing else, with a cushion between your knees for comfort. 

There was warm pressure just on the inside of your thigh, a heaviness that for some reason made you feel safe. 

Cracking one eye open, you see Eddie is sitting on the floor facing you, his furred cheek resting on your leg. His snout is just breaching the hem of the t-shirt, dangerously close to your heat. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” 

He takes a deep breath in and your cheeks flood with embarrassment. 

“I miss-ed you… miss-ed this.” 

“We can't, like, do anything Eddie, not until you're healed.” 

Lifting his head up, he points wordlessly to his side. The bandage has been removed. Amazingly, it's knotted scar tissue; a few tufts of fur are growing on it already. In a few days you'd be surprised if you could even tell the near life threatening blow had even happened. 

“Wow, thats- fuck, that's incredible. You're amazing!” 

He makes a little satisfied noise at the praise and sits up, towering over you on the sofa. 

“So… arrre we good? Forrr… a little game?” 

Tilting your head, you mockingly appraise him, looking him up and down and checking each knot of scars. 

“Well… seems I can give you the all clear. What did you have in mind?” 

Opening his maw, he flicks his tongue over his teeth, and stares at you hungrily. 

“I've got… an i-dea.” 

He stands up and pulls you to your feet, reminding you again of the sheer size of him, and wordlessly leads you to the back door. 

When you're outside, the lack of noise really strikes you. There's not a sound in the woods. An eerie quiet washes over you, making each breath, each heartbeat all the louder. The air is crisp, but not freezing. It nips at your bare legs, trailing goosebumps up your thighs. You look up at the sky; a beautiful array of shining stars fill it, and the moon provides a little light so you can make out the dark shadow of trees about you. It's ethereal and beautiful. 

“It's really pretty Eddie, but what's this got to do with a game?” 

He stands just behind you, firmly grabbing you by your hips as he bends to speak in your ear. 

“We'rrre tied… in ourrr little chases… thought we could…” 

“Out here? In the dark? Eddie what if theres-” 

“Nothings herrre… animals fled frrrom the monsterrrs… can smell. It's just you… and mme.” 

The thought sends a little shiver down your spine, pins and needles rushing from the base of your neck. 

“You like the… i-dea. Can tell.” 

You curse your own body for betraying you, but he's absolutely right. You're already wet just thinking about it and it's starting to dampen your thighs. A heat floods through you, making you forget about the cold. 

“OK… say I'm interested, what are the rules?”

“Two minutes head starrrt… then, when I catch you…” He playfully licks the shell of your ear, “I can do… whateverrr I want.” 

“Within reason?” You say, voice already shaking. 

“Within… rrreason.” 

“Five minutes.” 

“Thrrrree.” 

“Done.” 

Immediately you tear away from his grasp and run, giving him no time to think about it. The forest floor is surprisingly soft under your bare feet, a carpet of pine needles allowing you to run comfortably, unhindered. 

Your ears are occupied by the sound of your own beating heart. It's pumping wildly in your chest, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, making each decision. You zig zag, double back a little, and turn in a circle, to try and throw him off the scent. A part of you wishes there was a river nearby to help confuse the trail further. Then again, most of you is glad there isn't. It's not like you don't want to be caught. 

A fallen branch makes you trip and you sprawl unseen in the dark. The rush is still there, but you try to be more careful and take a little time looking for anything on the ground that could harm you. Squinting in the dark, you make out a huge stone in front of you which could have seriously injured you. Skirting around it, there's a copse of close together trees to one side. Then, there's an alrighty roar. 

He sounds so close, you must have made less progress than you thought. Dashing for the trees, you enter a little circle of pines and press your back against one panting for breath. You can hear him now. It sounds like he's galloping through the forest on all fours, crashing through branches and twigs like a hot knife through butter. 

You daren’t move, you daren’t breathe. This close there's no chance he won't hear you. Thighs clenching so hard you're in danger of losing blood flow, you feel your slick covering them, nearly slipping apart because of it. It's uncanny; you don't know why your body seems to have this visceral reaction to his presence, but really you don't need to know. All you know is that this feels so right, so natural for you, that it's accepted without hesitation. 

The absence of noise is what makes you jump. One minute there's crashing and breaking branches; the next, silence. You grip onto the rough bark, fingers white knuckling in fervent anticipation. 

You hear him then, soft footfalls crunching and sniffing noises. Keeping your back pressed firmly against the tree trunk, you try to breathe as quietly as you can. Each second that goes by feels like it stretches on for an eternity, as you hear him get closer and closer… and then walk past behind you. Breath leaving you in a gasp, you relax your muscles slightly. 

Until he's directly in front of you, completely naked, the sheer weight of him pressed up against you as he pins both your arms by your sides. His cock is throbbing against your stomach, huge and painfully hard. Bending his head to your level, his snout nudges your ear. 

“I win… you’rrre mmine.” 

He nips at your neck, his sharp teeth breaking the skin. Pain blossoms out from the mark, but it's followed by a wave of pleasure that sends another wash of wetness out of you. 

Eddie growls so deeply that you shiver, and suddenly your world is shooting upward as he grasps you firmly by the ass and lifts you up, your t-shirt riding up to your chest. The hard bark of the tree is pressing into your naked skin as he holds you there like a play thing, claws digging in your flesh. His tongue laps through your folds, tasting you with such ferocity that it makes you moan wantonly, your nails scraping into his scalp, hanging on for dear life. 

Cloying heat is surrounding you, suffocating you. You pull the shirt over your head and toss it in a vain attempt to get some relief but it's no use. Eddie's tongue is buried inside your tight cunt, a dizzying tornado that's making your head spin, but you need more. 

“Fuck- please Eddie, I-I need- oh God- I need you inside me.” 

He lifts your back off of the tree, then slams your spine against the rough wood, expelling all breath from your lungs. He's shaking his head back and forth, long snout rubbing over your clit. A hard no, but it's setting fireworks off inside you all the same. He lets up for a moment, just one, rumbling out words so close to your pussy you feel the warm air of his breath and the vibration of it on your clit. 

“You want me… so bad… then fuckin’ cum. Now.” 

His thumb breaching your weeping sex is a complete surprise. It's just so thick; moving inside you with such animalistic intensity that you're clenching and coming with an obscene scream directed at the heavens. You crumble to ash and dust within his very clutches, the smouldering fire flaming bright and burning all of you, inside and out. 

There's no time to recover, to breathe. He slides you down the tree trunk and onto his waiting member, forcing it inside with barely any warning. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as he forcibly lifts you by your hips and slams you back down, over and over, his powerful thrusts pulling whimpers out of you. You're just so full, his swollen length pulsing inside, throbbing you to ecstasy. 

The strings tighten inside you, firming the pressure in your belly, which suddenly snaps, dissolving into an intense wave of pleasure that gushes from your hole and threatens to push him out due to its violence. He shudders with you, holding you close and grinding into you, helping you ride it out with almost gentle movements that bely the ferality he displayed only moments ago. Your foreheads touch softly, breaths in tandem. 

For a second you think he's finished. You couldn't be further from the truth. His voice is strained, as if he's trying to keep it under control. 

“You… do that… again.” 

Before you can blink his knuckles are dragging harshly over your clit, back and forth, sending a shiver through your spine on each rough pass. 

“Eddie- oh holy- oh fuuuck!” 

You're barely able to speak, to think. Sentences fail to form, in fact your bordering on drooling at the way he's fucking you dumb. In moments you're clenching around him, walls fluttering uncontrollably as you sob out another release, muscles contracting involuntarily and quivering all over your body. After a while, you realise you're weeping, tears streaming with no barriers to stop them. 

It still doesn't stop Eddie and his violent conquest over your form. He seems intent on owning you, ruining you, taking every last ounce of pleasure out of you to leave you a shattered blubbering mess. It's as if he needs to get his pain and anguish out; it's pouring from him and into each movement of his hips.

“Again.” 

Sobs are bubbling out of your mouth, wet and round, spit gathering at the corners. 

“Eddie, I- I can't-” 

“Again!” 

Then he's pinching your clit hard between thumb and forefinger, as his teeth nip at your breast. The overbearing pain and the zealous pleasure are too much. Shamefully, you release yet again, slick running down your legs and onto the forest floor in a sticky web. 

It's only then that he holds you close, hard arms snaking around your back as your legs shake wildly either side of his hips. His bearish hands grasp you tightly as he throbs his own messy climax deep inside you, roaring loudly, pulsing and pulsing until you've milked him dry. Even then he remains, hard and swollen, locked in and unable to separate. 

His touch is far more gentle now, lifting you by the hips as if you are to be cherished and placing your back softly to the pine needle covered ground. He hovers over you, almost in fear of breaking you, one rough hand stroking at the delicate skin of your cheek. Staring into his eyes, you see the shame harbouring within them.

Before he can speak, you're grasping his furred cheeks and holding his gaze. 

“Eddie, it's OK, honestly. I mean, it was a little rough… but fuck me… that was amazing. You're amazing.” 

He nuzzles into you, deeply breathing in your smell as he cuddles you in the softest embrace. 

“-Orry.” 

“You trying to be cute with me again, Eddie Munson?” 

Your stern words just earn you another squeeze, a slightly tighter hold from his firm arms. For a while you lay there, feeling the other's heartbeat and listening to nothing but the wind between the trees. 

It takes a bit, but the knot finally subsides and you are able to extricate yourselves from its hold. As soon as Eddie's comforting arms are no longer around you, you start to shiver massively. 

“Need.. get you home… climb on.” 

He's on all fours, crouching low in front of you like a tamed lion. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” 

There's a soft rumble in his throat that almost sounds like laughter. 

“Get on… beforrrre you frrreeze.” 

You can't really argue with that. 

Hesitating with your knee up high, you're trying to work out where you need to be. You've never ridden a… a wolf? A lion? A monster? Briefly, you think you've never ridden an Eddie, but you blush profusely when you remember that's simply not true.

Finally deciding on swinging your leg over near his waist at the thinnest part of him, you settle into the soft fur. He swings a paw up and grasps your hand, leading it toward the longer hair down his spine. 

“Might want… to hold on… sweet-hearrrt.” 

You twine your fingers delicately into the thicker part of his pelt. That is, until he starts running on all fours through the trees. You grip tightly when you feel the sudden rush of speed, fingers losing blood as you hold on in fear of crashing to the floor. 

Once the initial shock is over, it's electrifying; a thrilling, hedonistic mix of riding a horse and a motorcycle at once. The wind whips through your hair and stings your uncovered skin, making you feel oh so alive. The constant push and pull of powerful muscles beneath you make you realise just how strong Eddie is. It suddenly dawns on you that no matter how rough he's been with you, he's holding back. If he showed you half his power you doubt you'd live to tell the tale. That stark realisation has you falling for him all over again. 

It's that power that seems to flow up from him and through you. You feel like some sort of heathen queen, riding through the forest on your monstrous steed, naked as the day you were born. Wild, savage, and formidable.

Too soon, your impromptu ride is over as he lopes toward the lights of the cabin, eventually coming to a stop. Sliding off of his mighty form, you land on both feet practically buzzing with excitement, caring not a jot for the fact that you were still naked. 

“Eddie, that was incredible! We need to do that again, like, every night. Fuck, I'm shaking!” 

You beam at him, glowing inside and out. 

“If anyone else… said that… I'd bite them. But… it's you. I'll be you’rrre… steed.” 

“You just want me to ride you again.” 

In the short time you've been together, you've gotten used to the subtle signs in his face, in the looks in his eyes, enough to be able to read him. You don't need any of those though, not when his usual whiskey eyes are blackened with desire. 

“You… not done?” 

Grinning profusely, you open the back door and beckon him with your finger. 

“Nope.” 

“You… animal.” 

You laugh; a messy, loud, belly laugh at the pure irony of the situation. 

Walking into the bedroom, you watch him follow you in. There's pine needles stuck in his fur, and mud crusted into his hands and feet. The very air surrounding him is of forests; of damp and bark and moonlight. 

All it's doing is stirring up your insides further. Right now, this heathen queen needs her monster king. 

“Lay down.” 

He huffs lowly, towering over your tiny form. 

“You… telling mme… what to do?” 

“Yes. I am. You got a problem?” 

You push lightly at his chest, making him collapse mockingly onto the bed, face twisted in taunting pain, as if you had caused him serious harm. 

“Don't… hurrrrt mme, prrrincess.” 

“I wasn't going to… hurt you, exactly.” 

You straddle his body, backwards, mouth hovering near his already firm length as your ass swings tantalisingly just out of reach of his drooling maw. 

“Now…. Sweet-hearrrrt, fuuuck… so unfairrr…” 

You can feel the breath expelling from his mouth, the way the sweep of his tongue creates air that is failing to make it between your folds. It makes your cunt throb from the lack of attention, still puffy and drooling from your encounter in the woods. 

You lick a firm stripe from his heavy balls to the tip of his engorged purple member, watching it shiver with the affection. There's a salty, brutish taste to him, mixed with the sweet, feminine tang of you, that makes you want to lick him over and over. Rolling the tip of his weighty length into your mouth, you roll it around with your tongue, licking any trace of you and him together away, to be stored in your memories forever. 

“Sweet-hearrrt… please!” 

He's panting, each short breath firing bursts of air at your cunt. You don't let up, not yet, suckling at his tip, pressing firm kisses to the slit on the tip. He's growling and whining, muscles twitching all over. 

There's no way you can take more than a third of his threatening member into your mouth, but you do what you can, stroking firmly with both hands what you cannot take. Spit dribbles out of your mouth and down to your fisted palms, wetting the rest of his length with soaked, messy need. 

He roars, lion-like behind you, fingers pressing further bruises into your soft flesh. You don't let up, you can't. You need to make him tremble beneath you; to feel those controlling muscles fold under the feel of your mouth. 

The thrust up into your wet lips has you gagging around his length, gargling and spluttering around his thick head. You can't chide him for it, not since the movement sets your insides ablaze with need. 

He curls as hard as his spine will allow; the tip of his tongue ghosting over your slick heat. Quivering, you let up on your assault with your mouth, and twist so you can face him. Whines and whimpers expel from his throat as his thick fingers wind around your waist. Before they can contort into growls and snarls, you sink down onto his slippery cock, all the way to the hilt, as if he were the perfect sword to your tight sheath. 

“Lay back and relax… There's a good boy.”  

Instead of taking control, he gives it to you. A whine, high pitched and needy, rolls out of his mouth. 

Bending down, with him still flush inside you, you press your pretty lips against his slathered maw. Open mouthed kisses are pressed onto his jaw, tongue sneaking in and feeling his pointed fangs delicately. He licks purposely into your mouth, dancing against your tensed muscle. 

Grinding hard into him, his solid weapon presses harshly against your g spot, stars forming in the corners of your eyes. He sits up so he can lace his thick arms around you, as if he needed to be even closer somehow. Responding in kind, you position your legs around him, holding tight as he thrusts up into you. 

Sweat is glistening, dripping down your spine at the proximity of his boiling hot body. Your fingers wind into the thicker fur on his spine as he rocks into you, feeling him in your very core. 

Suddenly he's grasping your hips, about to pull you off him. Whining, you shake your head, forcing yourself back down. 

“I'mm gonna-” 

“I know, please, I need to feel it, fill me up, please!” 

Those words are all it takes for Eddie, pushing him over that precipice, free falling into ecstasy. You join him, plummeting into your own release as the feel of his knot consumes you. 

For a while you hold each other, the only clue that time had failed to stop being your panting breaths. Your head is snuggled into the soft coat of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head. As his hardness finally begins to subside you still remain, the sanctitude of the moment ongoing. It feels as if it will be an ongoing memory to play on a loop in the back of your mind, forever. 

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

The following two weeks flew by in a hum buzz of activity. You're pulling shift after shift at the hospital and helping out at the emergency shelter when you can. The town is pulling together, trying to heal and coming to terms with what will forever be a little bit broken. 

Eddie's mood has been in a shifting, unstable state since the night he defeated Vecna. The nightmares were the worst part of it; on more than one occasion you've had to physically hit him to get him to wake up and stop thrashing in panic on the bed. You try to soothe with words, soft touches and kindness. It's helping, but you know he's got a long way to go. 

Being busy has helped. He and Hopper have come to form an odd friendship. To his credit, Hopper never treated Eddie any different despite his appearance. In fact, he said he's one of ‘Hawkins’ finest upstanding citizens’, since he can't go out and cause trouble. It's not like he can be the town's weed supplier, after all. 

Eddie needed something to do. Hopper understood that deeply, he explained, from his own past traumas and grief. So, he started towing cars to the cabin, getting Eddie to fix them up and send them back as an impromptu mechanic. Fixing things and earning a little money have certainly improved his mood. When he wasn't doing that he was working on the cabin which was starting to feel like home. 

You're on your way there right now. After the conversation you had with Hopper this morning, a huge smile is glued to your face. 

Approaching your home, you see Eddie outside working on a car. When he sees you he bounds over, grabbing the two enormous suitcases you've been struggling with and lifting them with ease. 

“What's all… this?” 

“Take them inside, I've got some news.” 

He does as you ask, depositing them on the floor before he holds you close, snout breathing in your scent at the crook of your neck. 

“Eddie, I spoke with Hopper. He's agreed to give us the cabin for nothing. I just gave away my apartment, so I can stay here with you.” 

Eddie barks with delight, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggle, holding onto his shoulders. He presses his maw to your tummy, breathing you in. 

When he puts you down on the floor, there's a queer look in his eye. 

“Eddie, something wrong?” 

Shaking his head, he falls to his knees so he can look you in the eyes as he holds both your hands in one enormous paw. 

“Not wrrrong… differrrrent. We'll need the cabin, forrr all of us.” 

You tilt your head, confused. 

“What do you mean? There's only me and you.” 

Staring at you as if to gauge your reaction, he presses one bearish hand to your stomach reverently. The hint isn't lost on you, eyes widening in disbelief. 

“Eddie, are you saying that you think I'm… pregnant?” 

One slow blink. 

Legs wobbling, you sit on the floor in front of him. 

“I'm on birth control, I mean, surely I can't be… are you sure?” 

Eddie taps his nose. 

“I'm sure. Is it… a prrroblemm?”

Searching your thoughts you realise it isn't. It really isn't. There's nothing you want more than to spend your life with him, to have a family, no matter what that looks like.

“No, not at all. It's a little… fast, but I want this.” 

Holding your cheek with his rough hand, he makes sure you keep your eyes trained on him. 

“Are you surrre? What… if it's…” 

He gestures to himself, in all his monstrous glory. Cupping his hand on your face, you shake your head.

“I don't care if we have a baby, or a-a cub, or a pup, as long as it's yours and mine.” 

He holds you then, softly and close as you twine your fingers into his thick pelt. 

A life lies before you, one that you couldn't have possibly predicted. A fairytale life; one where the monster gets the girl, and gets the happily ever after. 

Taglist (if you want to be added/removed please PM me)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[titania-sleeps]

Woman nutting in man is the only way. We should be like the seahorses. Only then will we reach nirvana

First Rut (Sub!Omega!Yandere x Alpha!Reader)

truly wise words, anon. i would have to heavily agree with you and thus,,, presenting,,, your first rut w adonis where you fuck him crazy and he enjoys it

one Adonis fic down, one more to go!

more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Introduction, Adonis Rides You, Adonis First Heat

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse, horny af manwhore omega, blowjob, kinda public sex, reader has dick (GN), minors DNI pls

Fuck. The time has come, hasn't it.

You close your eyes and lean against the hallway as the bustling crowd of students passes you. Dragging yourself by the feet, you trudge your way to hide under the staircase. The dingy area is just enough to curb the strongest of your desires, but there is still a gnawing feeling in you that needs to bite, tear, and consume.

It's only two in the afternoon, but you fetch your phone and send a quick text. Turning your phone off, you slide down the wall, not caring as the rugged edges of the wall snag against your neat uniform.

No more than five minutes pass when you hear quickening steps come your way. A sharp turn around the corner and a form that you're very familiar with emerges from the shadows. With a pretty blush on his face and his eyes wide like a doe, Adonis stands there nervously.

"You, uh, called for me," he breathes, his hands clutching the fraying edges of his sweater.

The sweet scent of roses and lemons attacks your senses, and your nails dig into your palm until it's bleeding. Why did you call him over again?

He seems to notice your state of struggle, so he runs to you, his hand on your shoulder as he brings his forehead to touch yours. It's your responsibility to contain yourself, but it's his mistake to get so close to you. Your hand sneaks around and wraps itself around the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.

"I'm burning," you whisper into his pink-tipped ears. His face erupts into a bright red and he stammers that he'll help you, that you can use him to calm down.

You push him away roughly, locking your arms to your side. You're breathing heavily, your vision growing hazy. You look up and he looks hurt, a worried frown on his usually bright countenance.

"Sorry... I"—God, he looks so cute—"didn't mean to...." Your weak apology brings out an immediate sigh of relief from Adonis. He kneels next to you, his hand placed over yours.

You groan, sending him a particularly piercing gaze. Your gaze burns into him, and you're holding yourself back with everything that you have. He stiffens in response, but his hand remains on yours.

"Class ends in an hour," he begins, his eyes flitting about anxiously, "so if you, um, need help..."

His offer hangs in the air, his clammy hand still laying gently over your own.

You don't need to think. You don't hesitate, because if you do, you might end up regretting what you're about to do. Instead, you submit to your instincts and you drag him down with you, your partner in crime.

Your mouth is on his in an instant, your teeth biting into his bottom lip. His lips part from his gasp, and you slip your tongue in, your free hand trailing under his shirt. Your nail scratches his toned stomach, and he moans into your kiss. You drag your nail down at a lazy pace, and your hand meets the tip of his bulge, straining against his pants.

He detaches from you, panic floating in his eyes. "W-wait, we're still at school—" You grab him by the tie, shutting him up with another messy kiss. He's protesting but you flip him so that he's the one against the wall, your hand placed next to his head on the wall.

"Be a good boy," you mumble in between kisses to his jaw and neck. His protests sputter out, replaced by quiet moans and tiny gasps. He's clutching the collar of your shirt tightly, but he doesn't push you away.

You lick the side of his neck, pressing a kiss onto it. "Very good," you praise. You hear him whisper a shy thank you, and you reward him with a kiss to his collarbone.

Your continued kisses have him gasping for more, but you stop abruptly. He whines, begging for you to keep going, but you have a better idea.

Only a second passes when his face is suddenly met with your cock, hard and red. You grin as his eyes widen like saucers, the blatant lust blossoming on his countenance. He's immediately subdued by the scent of it, his mouth opening subconsciously.

"Suck."

A single word is all he needs.

Adonis starts at your tip, lips brushing gently against you. Inspired by you, perhaps, he stamps small kisses down your entire length. Then he drags his tongue from your base, trailing along the underside of your cock, stopping only when he reaches the tip again. Opening his mouth, he takes you in.

You're melting into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around your sensitive spots, in a manner that is so intimately familiar with you. His dick is still bulging in his pants, begging to be released.

When he opens his eyes to gaze upon your form, his glance is hazy. He pushes his head down your length, your cock hitting the back of his throat. Adonis grimaces and he flinches, but he remains there, letting his throat do the work. He's gagging on you, and you're so close, but you grab him by his hair and pull your dick out.

"Why?" he whines, mouth opening instinctively, ready to take you in again.

You don't respond, and instead, you lift him up. Surprised, he wraps his arms around you.

"What are you doing—" His lips are met with yours again, and you slip his pants off with a quick flick of your fingers. He gasps into your kiss, but his arms around your neck tighten as he brings you even closer to him.

Adonis's cock leaks precum, dripping onto your shirt. Ignoring it, you push him against the wall, holding him up with one arm and using the other to align your cock to his hole. He moans softly, your tip grazing against his opening. Without warning, you slip your whole length in. It goes in without much resistance, and he's grabbing onto you desperately, face buried in the crevice of your neck.

You thrust up into him roughly, both your arms bracing him against the wall. His legs and arms wrap around your torso tightly as he moans into your neck.

"Fuck, you're so tight around me," you mutter. You shove as much of your cock into him as you can, angling it so it hits his prostate. His insides tighten, embracing your length in waves of convulsions.

"Ah ♡... [Y/N] ♡...!" He calls out your name, body quivering as you fuck up into him with reckless abandon. Every thrust is met with a wet moan and a little bit more of his precum trickling out. He's clinging onto you for dear life, a shaky grin dancing on his lips as his tongue hangs loosely.

You breathe into his neck, dragging your tongue along his neck. Your teeth graze his skin, leaving a burning trail of need on its way. He shudders, choked moans escaping from his throat as his eyes roll up in pleasure. You groan, feeling him spasm around your dick as both you and Adonis approach your limits.

"Bite me ♡," he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot. Your hips stutter, thrown off-guard by his plea; a flame unquelled in you roaring into its full life as your guarded desire is aided by the gas he spills.

But you reel yourself back, deciding to fuck him to oblivion so that he forgets. You can't bite him now; he'll be chained to you forever. And more importantly, you can't imagine doing that to the one person who seems to trust you above all else.

So instead, you lick his neck and give to him small, reassuring kisses. If he wishes for you to bite him in the future, you don't think you'll be able to hold yourself back. For the time being, though, you calm the knot that is forming at the base of your cock and thrust wildly into Adonis. Tears stream down his face as he moans your name over and over again; he speaks only your name and you are all that he sees.

"Please," he begs, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, "please, please, b-bite me, I can't handle it anymore! ♡"

You bite your tongue, stopping yourself. "Be quiet," you whisper to him, increasing the pace. He obeys surprisingly well, swallowing and muffling his noises.

However, he isn't able to hold it in for long.

"I-I'm close, I wanna cum with you, I want you to mark me! ♡" he exclaims, kissing the corner of your lips. His hands scratch against your back, leaving marks to remind you of this day. Adonis's insides clench, and you shove it deep inside of him, head spinning as you release your thick seed into him.

"Bite me now, please, bite me right now!" he cries, face bright red and dick equally as red.

You don't listen to him and he has no choice but to cum at that very moment, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of being filled. He wiggles in your grasp, nails digging into your back as his dick shoots out white ropes of cum.

His breathing comes out in quivering gasps, but he finds the strength to send you a reassuring smile anyway. He clings onto you, allowing you to lower him onto his feet slowly. Very kind of him, indeed, yet you're still aching for a bit more.

"Uh, do you want to... come over tonight?" Adonis asks, a pretty flush on his face. "Of course, if you don't want to, that's okay too, I know you're busy and—"

You lean in, caging him with one arm. He blushes, closing his eyes. Chuckling, you give him a flick to his forehead.

"Yeah, I'll be there tonight."

He opens his eyes, palm on his forehead, his pants still on the floor. A lovestruck grin is plastered ever-so lovingly on his lips.

not my best work. it only goes up from here?

-> masterlist

[yanderefarm]

Hihiii

Nephite when an other follower/ omega tryed to get with us?

yandere omega cultist nephite

cw;; religion, cults, omegaverse, violence

nephite is the least physically violent of the ocs ive posted so far but that doesn't take away from how scary he can be. he's so loyal to the church he has a lot of power for an omega.

y/n: do you know what happened to him?

nephite: he received divine punishment ^.^

y/n: right. i forgot you're crazy again.

nephite can't even breathe when he sees one of the slightly younger omegas flirting with you at a potluck. you're completely unreceptive to the advances of course. but he can't help but hear these words in his ears.

"alphas always prefer young omegas"

right now you were ignoring this harlot but for how long? how long before he became old and undesirable? nephite chewed his thumb nail until he broke the skin, only actually stopping because his mother pulled his hand away. she scolded him gently as she cleaned up his booboo but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear her. his sister noticed and teased him a little for getting so worked up over a random omega.

they were right. it was silly. he stuffed it down but he still spent the whole night attached to your hip.

it was fine.

but that omega didn't stop. if you left the house that omega would come find you and immediately start talking to you. his hands would press against your chest, his arms would wrap around one of your own, he would lean his body into you every chance he got. nephite's usually bright eyes would go dead the moment he saw the younger omega. what was he supposed to say? that filth never did it when he was right next to you, always waiting for you to be alone. and its not like it got more suggestive than just flirting. but it was driving nephite insane.

one day nephite was holding a sacred texts study group for omegas at your home. he had been so excited to be the host for this meeting, he spent the whole day making snacks for it! only to find, to his horror, that omega also arrived. you had decided to stay out of the living room while his group was going on but that just meant that horrible harlot could really get you alone! nephite had tried so hard to watch him like a hawk but he'd also gotten too into the discussion with the others. he never even realized when that omega disappeared from the group.

after everyone left he headed to your shared bedroom, excited to tell you about how it went. his hands pressed the door and his eyes immediately went dead. you were sitting on the bed with that omega, just talking. you had been showing him a book you'd been reading recently. his hand was on your knee. his shirt was unbuttoned. nephite felt dizzy, delirious with all the dark emotions bubbling in his stomach. he thought about killing that harlot right here, cutting off the filthy hands that dared to touch you.

you snapped him out of it, asking if group was over and then saying that harlot should leave. you escorted him to the door like a real gentleman. you asked him what was bothering him, if his group had gone poorly. nephite had practically tackled you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. he cried well into the night about all his insecurities and worries about you leaving him. and with every tear there was your reassuring hand in his hair, soothing him gently.

but that wasn't enough. the next day he went to confession with a pair of his frilly underwear stuffed in his pocket. he told the pastor the truth. mostly. he exaggerated the amount of adultery that harlot had really done so far. the pastor seemed to know he was being lied to but he trusted that nephite would only be bringing someone to his attention if they were a filthy sinner. the frilly underwear were icing on the cake. he told the pastor that he found them in the sinner's home along with a plan to seduce you.

they made a big show of dragging that sinner through the compound. wherever he was going he would never be coming back from. he caught nephite's eyes as he was dragged crying and screaming through the street. nephite held your arm tighter a wicked smile on his face just long enough for that foolish sinner to catch.

[cloudyzeusy]

Domestication

Even though it may seem tough domesticating a dominant omega isn't too hard once you give it a try all it takes is a firm hand, solid discipline and a good amount of cock to turn even the most rowdy omega into a good little bitch. Who follows your every word.

Dominant omegas are just omegas who haven't submitted to an Alpha yet as soon as they take your cock they'll switch. Make sure they take your knot and flood them with with your phermones cementing it in their head that you own them.

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (03)

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The next chapter will take me much longer to finish and post because I have to go back to uni 😭🔫.

Warning: cursing, blood

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

02 <- 03 -> 04

Masterlist

Taglist

It’s fucking hurt. The warmth that had been spreading through your lower belly, enveloping your body, was shattered by a sharp pain pulsing in your head.

Disoriented, you struggled to grasp what was happening. One moment, you were lost in a fantasy of frosted berries, honey, and Todoroki, and the next, someone had slammed you against the wall. The look in his eyes made it clear—he was ready to tear you apart.

It wouldn’t be hard for him to do that, with those teeth. You had never noticed them looking so sharp before. On TV, Red Riot always came across as the friendliest hero, his wide grin and bright eyes inviting trust. He was always ready to lighten the mood with his jokes and loud laugh, the hero who went out of his way to help civilians with their everyday tasks. Everyone who met him had a soft spot for him—he truly was a vision of strength and kindness.

But now, under the glare of his red eyes, his fists clenched tightly around your collar, none of that friendliness remained. His rage was palpable, you could feel it in the way his grip tightened with every passing second, the way his chest heaved with each furious breath.

He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, and you were the target of all that fury. His lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing those razor-sharp teeth. They weren’t just sharp, they were brutal, lethal and merciless. Red Riot wasn’t just ready to beat you up—he looked like he wanted to rip you apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. The once-kind, soft-hearted hero was gone, replaced by a tsunami of anger and violence, ready to unleash it all on you.

You knew how bad this whole situation looked—being caught with your hands on a claimed Omega (in heat) by one of his packmates was always a good enough reason for them to beat your ass. But this wasn’t the case, was it? No, it wasn’t, and you were ready to tell Red Riot so. So you tried to explain yourself quickly, to not give more time for his rage to boil over.

“Red Riot, I know it looks bad, but I swear, as a doctor, I was…” Your words hurriedly left your mouth, trying to defend yourself, but before you could finish your sentence, you felt his fist land straight into your face.

You were thrown to the ground. The pain from earlier was nothing compared to this. Blood spilled out of your nose and mouth, and you could swear you heard the sickening crack of your nose breaking under his blow. Now it really fucking hurt. Fat tears ran down your face, mixing with blood.

Red Riot didn’t want any explanation, he asked for one, but he wasn’t interested in hearing it. Fear crawled down your spine as sobs of pain and horror escaped your mouth, your vision spinning as you tried to look up at him, still uncertain of what just happened. Breaking your nose didn’t calm him down, and by the way he clenched his fist, you knew he was ready to strike again.

You barely heard Todoroki’s frantic shout, calling for Red Riot, but you did notice the putrid smell of rotten berries, rotting mango, and the sharp sourness of passion fruit beneath the thick metallic scent of your own blood. For one second, your eyes flicked to Todoroki, but your attention was stolen by Red Riot. You saw his muscles harden, flesh turning into stone. It was as if the storm surrounding him had solidified, and you were trapped inside it, powerless, unable to escape. Fighting back seemed pointless in the moment, you didn’t know if you’d even stay conscious if he hit you again.

But then, Todoroki’s second attempt at calling out for Red Eiot broke through the storm. His call cut through the tension like a knife and the angry hero’s focus shifted for an instant, his rage momentarily distracted.

“Shoto, are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t come—“ His voice was thick with worry and panic.

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. You scrambled to your feet and bolted out of the room, running for your life. Your legs propelled you forward, carrying you as fast as they could. You didn’t know if Red Riot was following, and you were too terrified to look back and find out. Your vision blurred as you crashed into a medical cart outside an open room, sending its contents flying across the floor but you didn’t care, you couldn’t stop to apologize and put it back together. You couldn’t stop at all. All you could do was run.

The hallways blurred past as you sprinted, your mind a panicked mess of fear and pain. The sharp sting of your broken nose, the blood dripping onto your clothes, the pounding in your skull—it all became a distant haze as you focused on one thing: escape. You didn’t even know how you managed to find the locker room, but somehow, your trembling hands found yours locker and you grabbed your bag and car keys as fast as possible, ignoring the confused stares of the people nearby.

You sprinted toward the parking lot, and when you finally reached it, you were gasping for air, tears still streaming down your face. Your legs felt like jelly, but you kept moving, stumbling toward your car. You shoved the door open with urgency. Once inside, your hands were shaking so badly that starting the engine felt impossible. You twisted the key over and over, your heart pounding, until the car finally roared to life.

You slammed your foot on the gas and sped out of the parking lot, reckless, your mind spinning, with no care for speed limits. All that mattered was getting as far away from that place, from him, as possible.

Is this shorter than usual? I can’t really tell. I think this chapter technically has more words than the last one, though. Anyway, I know Bakugo is usually the angry, "violent" guy in fics, but I’ve always thought Kirishima would beat someone into the ground if they ever took advantage of his partner. Plus, I always felt like fics were lacking people getting their asses beat.

So, I thought, let’s beat the reader’s ass!

I guess this is the end of the prologue. After this, we’re entering the “real” story, and we’ll meet the rest of the pack (not right away, but you get the idea). I’ll also have more room to explore the reader's personality. So far, all we’ve really seen is her being professional, confused, horny, and scared 😭.

Do any of you even read these author notes? It’s okay if I’m just talking to myself here. I always like the sound of my voice (well, my writing here, but you get it).

Criticisms are always welcome !

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

02 <- 03 -> 04

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 4 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (3)

ITACHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: This was it. The climax. Narratively and physically. You could safely say that there was potions and magic and sex, oh my. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Explicit n-sfw content. All alphas have penises, fyi.

A/N: It's finally December! Happy holidays everyone! Anyway, enjoy the final part of Itachi's book! I really enjoyed writing for him and his witchy goodness. I don't know if this chapter is good because I'm so tired lol. Next chapter we'll meet the second mystery omega in the second book, no spoilers yet, but I think my dearest friend @omeganronpa will have quite a difficult choice ahead~ I do like to make my gifts slightly torturous of course ;) Enjoy <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

You pulled back from Itachi and knelt at his feet, chomping at the bit to shower him in love and pleasure. You were grateful that your discarded shirt provided enough of a cushion to keep your knees from being bruised by the rock floor, although at this point, you weren’t sure there was any injury big enough to stop you.

Itachi’s feet were resting on the stone, with his calves and knees pressed together. You gently ran your hands over Itachi’s calves, up to his knees and then back down again, admiring his soft skin.

“Can you open your legs for me, pretty?” you cooed, not ceasing with your ministrations.

Itachi shivered, “I… You do it. Please.”

His desire for complete submission was certainly one of the sexiest parts of his newly discovered temperament, and one you were eager to encourage.

You placed on hand on each of his knees and then slowly drew his legs apart like you were unwrapping a gift. They parted easily, showing a great amount of flexibility in his hips, and soon he had his feet placed on the floor, one each side of the stone slab. Then, taking care to avoid any friction burns, you grabbed Itachi’s hips and dragged him closer to you, until his bare crotch was in front of your face, completely uncovered and unobscured.

The shadows created by the fire accentuated the angles of Itachi’s body, drawing your eyes in a multiple of directions at once. First to his hip bones, then to the valley of his surprisingly toned stomach, and finally, to the star of the show, his rock-hard, rosy cock that curved towards his stomach and twitched cutely as you stared at it. It was a good size, just a little smaller than average, and had a pleasant colour and presentation. All around, it was a pretty dick that suited him, and you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on it.

You glanced up and noticed that Itachi had propped himself up on his arms to watch you. When you caught his gaze, he broke eye contact bashfully. Cute.  

The pliant skin of Itachi’s thighs was so soft that you had no difficulty redirecting your focus to them. Watching the skin move around your thumbs as you massaged him was hypnotising. His thighs were also surprisingly toned. Did having to walk everywhere cause this, or was this yet another nod towards his questionable childhood? It hardly seemed like Itachi had a passion for working out.

Regardless, you laid your cheek on his left thigh and gave it an affectionate nuzzle. You also left a little kiss for good measure, one that could have probably been described as chaste had it been on Itachi’s lips instead.

You had been given a blank canvas and you were going to paint it so thoroughly that the marks would stay even if this world reset.

You started at the lower part of his left thigh, kissing, teasing, and biting your way up. Every gasp and whimper that you drew from your witch inflated your confidence and spurred you on further. A hickey here, teeth marks there, kisses everywhere you could.

But then, just as you reached the crease where his thighs ended and his hips started, just as Itachi’s cock twitched in anticipation, you withdrew, starting again from the lower parts of his thigh, this time the right one.

Itachi hissed in frustration but didn’t voice a complaint.

You repeated your ministrations on the other thigh, but once again, as you reached the place Itachi wanted you the most, you withdrew.

Itachi made a little petulant noise this time.

“You’re teasing me,” he accused, the shadow of a pout on his face.

“Hmm, am I?” you teased back, scratching your fingernails over his hips and lower stomach. You laughed as he glared at you. You made to go for his cock but diverted at the last moment to press on one of the love bites.

“Stop teasing,” he said, his pout deepening.

“Oh, so demanding.” You blew some air onto his cock and watched it jump. “You don’t look like someone in a position to be making demands, ‘tachi.”

Much to your amusement, Itachi huffed, blowing some loose hair from his face.

“Itachi,” you cooed, nuzzling his thigh. “I know what’s going to get you feeling really good. Just lay back and let me give you what you need. Your job is to take it, not demand it.”

You had fallen easily and quickly into your role as a dom, the words spilling out before you could stop them. You were worried for a moment that you crossed some lines, but Itachi’s pupils expanded, and the fight bled out of him instantly. Oh… he liked it. He liked that you were in control of his pleasure, and he had just been playing a little at being the brat, not that he was particularly good at it.

You watched as Itachi pressed a shaky hand to his mouth, a healthy blush on his cheeks that was slowly creeping down his chest. Yes, you could tell he was a good boy, not a brat, and you expected no further petulance from him now that you had set your expectations for his behaviour.

Despite all your teasing though, you had no intention of making him wait. Primarily because the saliva pooling in your mouth was becoming unsustainable as every cell in your body screamed at you to take his pretty cock in your mouth and make him see stars.

Without warning, you enveloped his dick with your mouth until your lips were sealed around the base, taking him completely in one movement. Itachi let out an aborted scream, out of shock or pleasure you weren’t sure, but you hoped it was both.

“Ah, fuck, that’s—”

That was the first swear you had heard from him, which only served to remind you that you were the first person to ever use your mouth on him like this. You were the only one who got to see him like this, and that thought made you hot, even in the middle of the Winter.

You hollowed your cheeks and slowly and deliberately moved up and down. The weight of him on your tongue was satisfying and he tasted surprisingly pleasant. You swirled your tongue around the head. Itachi seized for a moment, and when you looked up at him, you saw that his jaw was hanging open.

You couldn’t smirk at him while you had his cock in your mouth, but you hoped your eyes could convey your thoughts well enough.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Itachi was muttering to himself, looking like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

You paid special attention to the largest vein that ran along the underside of his cock, using your tongue to massage and caress it. Itachi’s hips jolted, lifting towards your mouth. He let out a strangled noise, like he was trying to moan and gasp at the same time. As his hips jolted, his cock hit the back of your throat. You coughed, not expecting the sudden force, and pulled back.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?” Itachi looked mortified. He tried to sit up, presumably to check on you, but you finished clearing your throat and placed a hand on his stomach to keep him reclined.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” you said, sending him a reassuring look. “It was my fault; clearly I should have been pinning your hips down.” To make your point, you grabbed his hips in your hands and held them firmly to the stone slab. “There. Now you can’t be naughty anymore.”

Itachi made an outraged noise, “I’m not—I’m not—I’m not naughty.”

“No, not anymore.” It was hard to keep your grin supressed but teasing him was simply too much fun.

“You—”

Itachi’s words cut off as you returned to the blowjob, the argument dying on his lips. He was leaking precum steadily now, but it wasn’t nearly as bitter as you had expected. Was the more pleasant taste a feature of his very healthy diet, or a feature of living in an erotica? Perhaps both. Would the same be true for you? A hypothesis for a later time.

After a few minutes, you pulled off the omega’s now glistening dick and took to lathering the sides with your tongue to give your mouth a bit of a break. You paid extra attention to the head; Itachi seemed the most sensitive there. You used your tongue to circle it in tight loops, occasionally dipping into his slit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop, please, please, please,” Itachi babbled. He sat up and laced his fingers in your hair, still rambling incoherently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t, I can’t, don’t stop!”

You weren’t normally a fan of your partner trying to guide your head when you were giving oral, but Itachi seemed to be less interested in guiding you, and more interested in using you as a way to stay upright, so you allowed it. You could already tell that, if you stayed in this world, Itachi would have you wrapped around his little finger. Good job he wasn’t a brat, because you didn’t have the heart to tame him.

As the blowjob continued, Itachi kept proving that he was incredibly sensitive. As you kissed up his cock, he whole body shivered, and when you were lucky enough to catch glimpses of his face, his eyes were clenched tight. Any semblance of vocal control had flown out the proverbial window, and Itachi’s cacophony of moans were echoing around the cave, filling your head from every direction. That, combined with the way his silhouette was pasted in shadows on the cave wall, made it feel like you were being entirely consumed by Itachi. You were surrounded by him and his pleasure, and it was the most invigorating feeling imaginable.

This hadn’t at all been what you imagined when you swore that today would be the day that you and Itachi would take things further, but there was something about it that made it perfect.

Itachi looked entirely wrecked at this point, making little ‘ah’ noises whenever you moved your tongue. You wondered briefly if Itachi’s sensitivity was his own trait or born from existing in an erotica. Would you also be more sensitive? You hoped so. Oh! Would you be able to stay hard for longer or recover faster? Now that would be handy.

You gave a particularly harsh suck and suddenly Itachi’s legs came up to wrap around your head, trapping you against his dick, much to your surprise. Itachi didn’t seem to notice, even as you coughed.

Without warning, Itachi plummeted into an orgasm, filling your mouth with his sweet cum. Considering his inexperience, you figured that even he hadn’t known what was happening fast enough to give you a warning.

“Hah, there’s— hngg, how, I can’t—” Itachi was coiled like a spring while he came, his stomach muscles clenching with every shot. Dutifully, you swallowed everything, trying your best to keep up.

After the final shot, Itachi suddenly went limp. He flopped backwards, returning to his original reclined position. His legs fell from their tightly gripped position on your head to lay limply on your shoulders. He was taking deep, shuddering breaths, but didn’t move or speak.

You used your new freedom to wipe your lips. Yep, this world was definitely making everything taste better, there’s no way a good diet would be enough to make it taste like that.

Carefully, you moved each of Itachi’s legs off your shoulders and placed them on the ground. Itachi made no attempt to stop you, physically or verbally.

Once you were free to stand, you went to his head end and perched on the edge of the stone slab. Itachi looked completely blissed out; his entire face was flushed, his eyes were still closed, and his breathing was still a little uneven. You doubted he’d ever had an orgasm like that, and the part of your brain controlled by your base instincts was ever so cocky about it.

“You okay?” you asked, ignoring the instincts and going with the softer impulse. You caressed his forehead lovingly, swiping away stray hairs. “That must have been a lot, huh?”

Itachi hummed in agreement, his eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you. He held your gaze for a few moments, his eyes still lidded, before they shot fully open in panic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you, and I manhandled you, and I’m so sorry, do you need some napkins, let me grab you some.” He sat up and tried to reach for the basket, but you caught his hands and held them to your chest.

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, and I don’t need any napkins, I swallowed everything.”

There was a beat of silence before Itachi’s jaw dropped. You snorted at the scandalised look on his face. He was staring at your lips like he’d never be able to look at them the same way ever again. He looked a little faint, so you poked him on the nose to bring his attention back to the present.

“How was that?” you asked, changing the subject.

Itachi drew his legs up to his chest, “That was amazing,” he said breathlessly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you said sincerely. You certainly didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth after his performance. “You must be tired now though, maybe we should get home.” It was hurting your heart, (and your dick), to say that, but having just had his first real sexual experience, Itachi might not be in the mindset to reciprocate.

“A little, but—” He looked down and noticed your painfully tight trousers. “Oh! You haven’t finished yet.”

You sent him a wry grin, “Believe me, I’m aware. Sucking you off was incredibly hot and all, don’t get me wrong, but I need a bit more stimulation than that to get off.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed and it was incredibly obvious what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry about me, Itachi.” He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “We should head home before it gets dark.”

You really weren’t trying to play the martyr; that had been intense, and Itachi probably wanted a break, erotica or no. You didn’t want your first orgasm with him to be one of obligation, no matter how much your animal brain was arguing that that was better than nothing.

Itachi bit his lip, looking indecisive, but quickly his expression melted into one of determination.

“Itachi—”

“No. I want to try.” The look in his eyes was one you had seen before, mainly when he was trying to wrangle a new dinner recipe into submission, but also that one time he’d almost fought the waiter in town. It was the look of someone who wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

You hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now swap places with me. And take off your trousers.”

You did as he asked, throbbing in anticipation. The second your trousers had been discarded, Itachi stood up on his slightly shaky legs and pushed you down onto the stone bench. He then dragged your shirt into a better position for him and knelt down in between your legs.

Your legs were already spread, so Itachi placed his hands on your crotch, head tilted like his was trying to study the outline of your dick through your underwear. The whole situation reminded you of the time he’d spilt hot chocolate on you. At least this time he was aware of what he was doing.

“Itachi, you are so stunningly hot, has anyone ever told you that?”

Itachi smiled, “Only you.”

“That’s a crime, but I’m also glad I don’t have to fight off any competition. Imagine if we lived in a town; I’d be fighting suitors away from you with a stick.”

“Shut up.” Itachi’s voice was full of embarrassed amusement. “I’m trying to focus.”

“My bad.” You mimed zipping your lips, locking them, and then throwing away the key.

Itachi sighed, shaking his head, before focusing back on you. He studied you for a moment.

“I’m taking these off.” Impatiently, he tugged at the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your lips to aid him, and soon he had them off, and the fabric fell to your ankles.

Itachi had been studying you so closely that as its cloth prison was removed, your cock sprang out and thwacked Itachi directly on the cheek, an audible skin slapping noise reverberating around the cave.

“Oh!” Itachi jumped, his hands grabbing your erection automatically. Because he was so close, he had to go a little cross eyed to keep your dick in his sight.

You giggled, pushing him a little further back, just until he was sitting back on his knees. Itachi blinked up at you through his dark eye lashes, looking confused and a little upset that you’d pushed him away. He was so cute, completely out of his element and yet so sexy.

“Slow down,” you said, squishing his cheeks in your hands. Itachi shot you a glare, but the impact was lessened by his squishy cheeks. You laughed and let him go. “First, let me remove these.” You took your ankles out of your underwear and kicked it off to the side. “Now, relax. Why don’t you use your hands first, ‘tachi. Get a feel for it.”

Itachi’s look of determination returned as you gave him some instructions, and he immediately started to explore.

He ran his hands around the shaft first, wrapping you in a fist and stroking up and down. He moved slowly, occasionally looking up at you to see your reaction. He ran his fingers over the head, even tapping on your slit when a bead of precum appeared and then examining the liquid on the tip of his finger.

You were dangerously close to blowing your load all over his face and he had barely touched you. It was just so deeply erotic the way he was using you to satisfy his curiosity and learn what he was supposed to do. The innocence was enticing, but you were also going to have fun watching experience slowly overcome it. You wanted to corrupt him.

‘James, I’m developing new kinks.’

‘Congratulations, human alpha. Is it a human custom to mark such an event with a celebration?’

‘Oh, I’ll be celebrating in a moment, James, that I can promise you.’

Itachi was holding your erection in his palm, almost like he was testing the weight of it.

“It’s hot,” he said, trailing a finger down it. His eyes jumped up when he realised what he said. “I mean, warm, the temperature is high.”

You snorted, “I hope it’s also hot as in sexy. And I’m pretty sure your dick is the same temperature.”

“That’s different,” he mumbled, returning to his task with a pink glow to his face.

His bashfulness quickly disappeared once you stopped speaking. Itachi seemed to be enthralled by your dick. He was rhythmically squeezing at your knot with one hand and weighing your balls in the other. You were tempted to tell him to slow down because you were getting close, but your pride refused to admit that out loud, so you allowed him to continue.

Itachi’s hands stilled suddenly, and he bit his lip, staring down at a bead of precum that was running down the side. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he hesitantly leant in and caught the drop with a little kitten lick.

You didn’t know if it was because this was the first time you’d had his mouth on you, because you were more sensitive in erotica pocket dimensions, or because the lick had been devastatingly cute, but you swore your soul left your body.

‘James, I’m dying, this is it.’

‘You are already dead, human, please do not panic.’

Itachi hummed consideringly as he pulled away, licking at his lips a little. Whatever he found didn’t seem offensive, because he leant back in for another few gentle licks.

Take his mouth, show him your strength, cum on his face to mark him so other alphas know he’s yours. Your instincts were screaming. How could one omega drive you so wild? He was treating your dick like it was an ice lolly. You were about to cum as quickly as a teenager, so for your own ego, you decided that you were definitely more sensitive in porn dimensions.

Itachi suddenly slipped the head into his mouth and began to suck gently.

“Oh, Itachi!” you moaned, toes curling. Itachi looked up at you in shock, almost as though he had forgotten that you were attached to the dick he was worshiping. You affectionately brushed some hair from his face, drinking in the sight of Itachi’s lips stretched around your dick. “Why don’t you try to go a little further down, baby? You’re doing so well; you feel amazing.”

With a determined glint in his eyes, Itachi took a deep breath and then forced himself down until the head of your cock hit the back of his throat. Not expecting that, you almost came at the feeling of his throat spasming and massaging you as he inevitably choked.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” You pulled Itachi’s head back as he coughed. It had felt amazing, but he was clearly lacking enough experience for that to be comfortable, and you wanted this to feel good for both of you. “Deep breaths.”

As Itachi stopped coughing, you wiped some of the drool off his lips and gave him a tap on his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Easy,” you soothed. “You went too fast. You need to work up to deep throating if that’s something you’re interested in. Give yourself some time to get used to it.”

He pouted, “You’re too big.”

“Are you complaining? Because you seem unable to keep your hands and eyes, your mouth too now, off it for very long.”

“You’re also mean.”

You chuckled. Perhaps it was a little mean to tease him about his obvious fascination with your cock, but it wasn’t like you were criticising it. If anything, you loved this newfound part of Itachi. Call you an alpha knothead or whatever, but you were proud of your cock, and knowing that Itachi loved it so much was hot and ego-boosting.

“Why don’t I guide you a bit? I can help you find your limit. Here.” You gently gathered his hair into a mock ponytail and held it in your fist. With that, you should be able to move his head without hurting him. “Open your mouth and put your tongue out.”

Itachi obeyed instantly, even though his blush gave away his embarrassment. See? He was definitely a good boy at heart.

You took your cock in your free hand and rested it carefully on his tongue. Itachi blinked up at you but sat still and took it.

“Get used to the weight of it, the size, the taste, everything. Don’t put it in your mouth yet, just use your tongue.”

Itachi wiggled his tongue a little, creating a pleasant, if a bit ticklish, sensation.

“Good boy.” Itachi moaned a little saliva dribbling down his chin. You wiped it away with your thumb, marvelling at the way Itachi’s eyes started to droop as his focus returned to your dick. You had no trouble believing that he was specifically created for an erotica novel, even with the whole murder backstory thing.

‘James, if I die here, can you make sure that everyone knows that I went out getting a blowjob from the prettiest omega in existence?’

‘It is literally impossible for you to die in pocket dimensions, human. I am worried about how many times I’ve had to explain that to you. Did you lose some of your mental facilities during your untimely death?’

‘I don’t think so, but I’m definitely losing mental facilities on Itachi’s tongue.’ As you ‘spoke’, Itachi panted hot breath onto your cock and you shivered, tightening your grip on his hair instinctually, something which caused Itachi to make a little proud and pleased noise.

‘Human, while I understand those words separately, your completed sentence is nonsensical.’

You tuned James out; you had far more important things to attend to.

“’tachi, try putting it in your mouth properly now, just around the tip.” He did as you instructed, eyes glazed. “Very good, you’re doing so well.”

Itachi tried to speak, but the words were incomprehensible. You hissed at the combination of the delicious vibration and the sting of his teeth.

“Pull off if you’re going to speak, okay?” you instructed. He nodded, so you tried to pull him off so that he could say whatever he’d been trying to say, but he made a noise of discontent and pushed back against you so your dick would stay in his mouth.

Was it weird to say that his inexperience was only making this whole thing better? There was something inside you that was endlessly pleased by having this omega, who had never even touched an alpha’s dick before, worshipping yours like it was his reason for living. The idea that he was so dedicated that he couldn’t bare to take things slow was the cherry on top of an already perfectly horny scenario.

As you were lost in thought, Itachi idly suckled, more relaxed now that you had stopped trying to remove him.

“Okay, good boy, you can go a little further. Try and focus your tongue on the head and the biggest vein at the base.” His tongue wiggled around for a moment and when he found the vein, he looked up at you for praise. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your voice steady. “That’s the one, very good. For many people, those are the most sensitive places.”

Not that you ever wanted his mouth on anyone else’s dick of course. The thought made you a bit nauseous in all honesty. You wanted to be his first and last. But if you didn’t pick him… someone else eventually would, for good this time. You felt angry just entertaining the possibility. Your upcoming choice was going to be painful if the second omega was as easy to love as Itachi. Part of you was tempted to just tell James that you’d already made your mind up, but you knew you’d forever wonder about the other book if you didn’t experience it.

Seeing that Itachi was comfortable, you guided him a couple more centimetres down, watching him closely, although the wet heat on your cock was admittedly making it hard to focus.

Too quickly, he tried to push down further, but you held his hair tight to keep him where he was.

“Take your time, Itachi, how many times do I have to say that? My dick isn’t going anywhere.”

He growled at you, but you only moaned in response as the vibrations ran straight to your lower stomach, knotting it in the best way. Itachi seemed shocked and intrigued by your reaction.

“Vibrations feel good, Itachi,” you explained, trying to mush out words when your brain was slowly turning to mush. “That’s why—” Itachi started to purr. He started to purr around your dick.

Damn, you really were going to die here. Shocked and pleasured, you let out a little cry and dropped the hold you had on Itachi’s hair. Making the most of his newfound freedom, Itachi pushed himself further down, until only an inch of your dick wasn’t in his mouth. He couldn’t seem to get any further, but he didn’t let that discourage him. He moved his head up and down with reckless abandon, purring and humming all the while.

Eventually, through your pleasured haze, you noticed that Itachi was firmly pressing the pressure point on his palm that the nosy old man in town had suggested. At least you now knew that strategy worked.

Itachi sucked and licked and kissed, moaning loudly, eyes heavily lidded, drool leaking out of the edges of his lips. The noise was obscene, bouncing off the walls of the cave and filling your head from every direction. The extra sensitivity was hurtling you rapidly towards your orgasm. You stomach felt like it was filled with molten lava. You needed to warn Itachi.

“Itachi.”

He didn’t respond. It was like his mind had emptied of all thoughts so that he could focus on your cock. It would have been much hotter if you didn’t need him to listen to you right now.

“Itachi? Come on.” You took the initiative to pull him off your cock. There was a wet pop noise as the seal he was creating with his mouth broke. Itach whined, tugging back towards your cock.

“Baby?” Itachi looked up at you, dazed. “I’m going to cum soon.”

Itachi blinked at you, swallowing a few times before he got the words out. “In my mouth?” he asked, staring up at you.

You hummed, stroking his face a little, “No, not yet. I’m going to use one of the napkins, but are you okay getting me to the edge with your tongue?”

Itachi nodded and went to return to your cock immediately. You stopped him with a hand.

“Let me grab a napkin first.” Itachi shook his head. “No? Why?”

“I want you to cum on my face,” he mumbled, nuzzling at your cock. “Please?”

Fuck. You swallowed heavily at his words and attempted, and subsequently failed, to keep your voice steady as you replied.

“If you want me to, darling.”

Itachi clearly did, because he immediately started to kiss and run his tongue all over you. While he worshipped you, you thought about how hot everything was, and how obsessed Itachi was with your cock. It took an embarrassingly short time to knock you over the edge.

“I’m cumming!”

Itachi stopped licking and sat back, closing his eyes. Quickly, you grabbed your dick and aimed it at his face. The first cum shot felt like you were firing a gun. All that tension, all that build up, the prettiest target in front of you, it wasn’t shocking that it was one of the best orgasms of your life.

The first shot hit Itachi in the cheek. He squeaked and jumped slightly, but his eyes remained closed and waiting. Perhaps you were just too horny for coherent thought, but you thought the sticky, white cum suited him.

Your stomach clenched and the second shot ripped through you, hitting Itachi just above the eye. Some clung to his long eyelashes, creating a striking contrast between the deep black and pearly white.

The third and largest shot hit Itachi in the forehead, some of it getting caught in his hair. You had expected that to be the end, and so the fourth one took you by surprise. You almost doubled over with the intensity of it.

It was then quickly followed by a fifth and sixth shot. Baffled and addled by your ongoing orgasm, it took you a few moments to realise that the porn logic must have been affecting the amount of cum you had, because this was not normal.

It continued until your stomach ached from the prolonged muscle usage, and Itachi’s face was covered in your cum. Despite your sudden exhaustion, your instincts were roaring in delight. You had claimed your omega. You had drenched him so thoroughly in your scent, in your seed, that no other alpha would dare make a claim on him. No one could threaten your bond, not when he was like this. You gazed proudly down at Itachi.

Slowly, the euphoric and instinctual haze receded, and you realised that you were leaving Itachi kneeling at your feet, covered in your cum, without even trying to help clean him up.

“Oh! Hang on! I’ll grab some napkins!” You scrambled for the basket and rifled through it until you had a couple of the napkins. Itachi didn’t move, he just knelt there at your feet. Was he okay?

You held the back of his neck to keep him steady, and delicately wiped him up, starting with his eyes, then his lips, and finishing up with the rest of his face. There wasn’t much you could do about his hair until you were home.

“Are you okay, Itachi?” His eyes flickered open, but he seemed to be having trouble focusing on your face. His scent was calm, and yet still geared towards keeping you attracted to him, and he didn’t speak, even when you prompted him to do so. You recognised the behaviour straight away; he was in subspace. You had been thinking about the way he sometimes got spacy after intense make outs, but you’d written it off because surely there was no way he was that easy to put into subspace. But here you were, looking at the evidence that proved you were wrong.

You gently stroked his neck, adjusting your intentions to be more of what he needed if he was in subspace. You were honoured that he felt safe enough with you, and you weren’t going to ruin that by upsetting him.

“You did so well, Itachi, I’m so proud of you,” you said quietly. Itachi smiled tiredly but didn’t speak. You supported him to his feet, standing yourself too. His shaky legs caused him to lean on you heavily, but eventually, with your encouragement, he found his balance. “Stay there, ‘tachi.”

You peeled the cloak off the stone slab, cringing at the wet spot. The dampness wasn’t ideal, but Itachi wouldn’t be able to get home without its warmth, so you didn’t have a choice but to wrap him up in it. Itachi sighed happily at the warmth, burying his face into the collar, and let you guide him to sit back down, light purrs escaping him.

Once he was okay, you put on your own clothes, also revelling in the artificial warmth. The fire was on its way out by this point, and you had to leave as soon as you could to get home before dark. It was unfortunate that you couldn’t let Itachi come down from his high here in the cave, but being caught in the cold and dark would at least be unfortunate and more likely disastrous.

“Are you ready, darling?” You slipped your hand into his, hoping he’d be okay to walk. Itachi nodded, allowing you to lead him out of the cave. Unfortunately, you really needed him to lead the way back, as you had only the vaguest idea of how to get back to his cottage. “Which way d—”

Itachi stumbled over a branch, and it was only your conjoined hands that stopped him from face planting on the ground. Itachi looked up at you, a confused chirp escaping him, like he was asking you how you’d let him fall when you were supposed to be keeping him safe. It tugged on your heartstrings so much that you immediately pulled him into an embrace and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m cold,” he muttered, pushing his face into your shoulder. While the cloak was charmed, without any clothes underneath, it was also probably pretty breezy.

You cooed, “I bet. Why don’t I carry you home?” You couldn’t bear to have him uncomfortable for even a second, not when you could prevent it. “That would be warmer for you, but you have to show me the way home, okay?”

Itachi nodded, looking relieved, and held out his arms. You scooped him up into a princess carry, and he looped his arms around your neck before settling his head on your shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

…

You had arrived home just in time to avoid having to stumble through the woods in the dark, and the subsequent evening had passed by in a whirlwind of cleaning, cooking, eating and cuddling. Itachi had mostly recovered by the time you had arrived, even walking the last hour himself, but he remained mostly silent unless addressed directly, and you had to take extra care to help him navigate away from a subdrop.

In contrast, the following morning seemed to crawl by like a snail. It was the day you were supposed to be brewing the potion, but Itachi had insisted on cooking a massive breakfast that had taken him an hour to cook and just as long to eat. He maintained that he just felt like making an elaborate breakfast, but considering the significance of the day, you didn’t know if you believed him. You had a feeling that he was either stress cooking, attempting to show you how good of a mate he could be, or just trying to delay the inevitable.

At least you had managed to entertain yourself by admiring and pressing on his copious amounts of hickeys.

“Mm, if you keep doing that, the food is going to burn.” Despite his words, he arched into your touch as you pressed on a particularly large hickey on his neck.

You eyed the pots and pans on the hob, all of which were stirring themselves. “They’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about; what if you get lonely because I’m not kissing you?”

Itachi laughed, “You’re ridiculous.”

At least the long breakfast and clean up had allowed you plenty of time to tighten up the details of your backstory, ready for your memories to ‘return’. You were grateful for that last opportunity to plan, because now, having gathered all the necessary ingredients, the time had arrived to make the Amnesia Reversal Potion.

You and Itachi were sitting cross legged in the corner of bedroom that he used for experiments, meticulously cutting, grinding, and adding ingredients into his black cauldron. It was equal parts cool and overwhelming to watch potion brewing in action. If you ended up in this world, you were for sure going to learn to make as many as you could. Maybe you could convince Itachi to move slightly closer to a nearby town so that you could access supplies a little easier?

“This potion is extraordinarily simple,” Itachi remarked, dropping in the crushed Amplexus seeds. “No wait times, no stirring instructions, no temperature requirements. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Weird.”

“Indeed. All I have to do is add the ingredients into the cauldron in the order that they’re listed in the ingredients list.”

“Isn’t it a good thing that it’s simple?”

Itachi grabbed a sprig of thyme and dropped it in, “Of course, it’s just strange.”

You watched the wooden tray empty as each ingredient was added to the potion in turn. The potion turned from brown, to pink, and then to purple at various intervals, bubbling, smoking, and spitting all at once. It seemed a little dramatic, but Itachi didn’t react as though anything was weird.

Eventually, there was only one ingredient left: Cinnamon. How weirdly mundane to be the climax of this potion making adventure.

Itachi added it and then began to stir, wrestling with the hydrophobic powder that seemed resistant to joining the potion. As he stirred, the potion gradually turned into a bright lime green. That was it then, right? That must be the potion!

But Itachi didn’t stop stirring, brows furrowed. He stared down at the cauldron like he was waiting for something more. He even picked up the recipe again to double check it.

“Is something the matter?” you asked, after the silence had stretched to uncomfortable levels.

“Look at the recipe, here.” He handed you to recipe, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at. You send him a helpless gaze and he tapped on the sketch of the potion on the right side. “This is a sketch of the potion and it’s a shimmering gold. Our potion is green.”

You bit your lip, “Maybe it’s just artistic interpretation?”

“No, a shade or two different, fine, but a completely different colour? Our potion isn’t correct, but I’m not sure what I did wrong. I don’t even know how I could have gone wrong; it just says to add everything in order!” He plucked the recipe from your grip again and held it closer to his face, as though that would somehow solve the mystery.

It was then, as he held up the piece of paper, that you noticed something written on the back. Did the recipe continue on the other side? You had looked at this over a hundred times over the past fortnight, how could you have missed that there was something written on the back?

“Um, Itachi? Try flipping the page over.”

He hummed, confused, but did as you asked.

“Oh! You’re right! There’s one more ingredient, we must have missed it. It’s written much smaller than the other ingredients.” You silently passed him his glasses, which had been abandoned earlier once the steam from the potion had fogged them up, and he gratefully put them on.

 “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can find it somew—”

The sentence died as Itachi finally read the words on the back of the page.

You watched him, anxiously. “Itachi? Is something wrong?”

Itachi’s eyes flickered back and forth between your face and the recipe. Slowly, his face grew pink and heavily flushed. He didn’t speak.

“Itachi? What does it say? Is it something bad?”

Itachi opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Giving up, he thrust the paper out to you before bashfully burying his face in his palms.

Intrigued and vaguely concerned, you read the back of the recipe.

‘100ml of the fluid of a squirting omega.’

You coughed in surprise, dropping the recipe which floated slowly to the floor. Well, that answered your earlier question; you didn’t see it earlier because it would have screwed up the pacing of the plot if you had.

The erotica pocket dimension clearly wasn’t satisfied with the sappy mutual blowjobs in the cave yesterday. It wanted you to fuck Itachi properly, and it wanted you to do it hard.

“Oh. That’s quite the final ingredient.”

Itachi hummed in agreement.

Bizarre as it was, the longer you thought about it, the hotter it became. You had to overstimulate Itachi until he squirted, then use that to make a potion? Hilarious, and deeply erotic.

‘James, who is responsible for designing pocket dimensions, and can I shake their hand?’

‘That is confidential, and they do not have hands.’

‘Well, whoever they are, they need a raise.’

‘Why do they require increased elevation?’

‘Because these are mad times we’re living in James, mad times.’

‘You are not making any sense, human. Perhaps you should turn your attention to the omega in front of you. His body is displaying signs of heightened arousal, and I believe he would like you to solve that for him.’

One glance at Itachi and his newly tented shorts proved that James was correct, so you dropped the connection. Itachi, with his hands still covering his face, didn’t seem to have noticed his own raging boner quite yet.

“Well, at least we don’t have to leave the house to get the final ingredient,” you said, mouth moving faster than your filter. 

Itachi gave an embarrassed squeak, peeking at you in between his fingers. When he spoke, the words were hesitant and muffled. “That’s… um, I mean… I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” you said confidently. You figured that it wouldn’t make any sense to set this up as the erotic climax of the story if Itachi wasn’t capable of squirting. “I’ll make you squirt, trust me.”

Your brazen confidence seemed to have an effect on Itachi, who was looking progressively more flustered as he processed your words. His pupils were wide, cheeks pink, and there was a little wet spot at the tip of the tent in his shorts.

Oh yes, there was something about this situation that was getting to him, just like it was getting to you. You already knew he was submissive, of course, but perhaps your confidence in talking about his body was doing something more to him, or maybe the idea of mixing sex with magic was what was making him so hot.  

Either way, you leaned right into his space, smirking. Itachi’s released a delicious scent, something submissive, something horny, something to entice you to fuck him.  Who were you to deny him?

“Now, do you have anything we can use to collect liquid?”

…

You remembered, on your very first day in this world, how you studied Itachi’s living room to prove to yourself that this hole fever dream was real and find clues about the kind of life you might have here. The room looked a little different now. Itachi had levitated all the furniture against the wall and laid down a tarpaulin in the newly cleared space, creating the illusion of both more clutter and more space that the living room normally had. A large, red bucket stood innocently, front and centre by the fireplace, ready for a not so innocent purpose.

The room was bathed in an orange glow thanks to Itachi’s permanent fire magic crackling away in the fireplace. All these fires were going to give you a complex. It wouldn’t surprise you if you ended up being conditioned to pop a boner whenever you saw an open fireplace. But if you didn’t end up in this world, you were glad to know that fire would remind you of Itachi and your time here with him.

From the ceiling hung a metal bar, about 50cm in length, hanging horizontally from two sturdy pieces of wire.

“For drying flowers,” Itachi had said when you’d questioned why he had a bar in his ceiling capable of holding the weight of an adult person. His explanation didn’t really make any sense, but you had accepted it as porn logic and moved on.

Now though, there were no dried flowers in sight. Instead, from the bar, hung something much more precious. Itachi’s wrists were bound together above his head, secured to the metal bar with an old scarf you had found and swiftly repurposed. He was completely naked again, and although that always made for an enticing view, this particular moment was perhaps your favourite so far. Because your beautiful witch looked utterly wrecked.

You circled him, footsteps crinkling on the tarpaulin, and committed every inch of him to memory. He was shining, hot and sweaty from your games, with the hair that was not scraped back into his ponytail sticking to his face. His chest heaved in an attempt to beat his exertion with enough oxygen, and his hands, tied up though they were, periodically clenched themselves into fists.

Lovingly, you loosened his ponytail and then retied his hair back to include all the strands that had wiggled loose. Itachi didn’t comment on it, even as you pulled his hair away from his sweat-soaked skin. He only panted, head lolling against his extended right arm.

If you had known that overstimulating him had made him look so pretty, you wouldn’t have held out for so long.

“How many is that now, Itachi?”

“Three,” he panted, lifting his head up to look at you. “I’ve cum three times.”

“That’s right.” It had been a handjob, a blowjob, and a rimjob respectively. “Glad to see you’re still with me, for now at least.”

Itachi bit his lip; he was still embarrassed over how easily you’d put him into subspace yesterday. You used your thumb to remove his lip from his teeth and then held it there.

“You drive me crazy,” you breathed, watching his eyes dilate. “I want to take you apart just so I can build you up again. I want to see every face you make and claim every inch of your body. I want to get every artist in the world to paint you, just to find the one that can manage to even get close to your real-life beauty. I want to be the first person to touch you on the inside.”

To emphasise your point, you snaked an arm around his waist and slipped your hand down until you could slide your fingers over his hole. He was soaking wet, and after only a few seconds, you withdrew and held your dripping fingers up to the light.

“You’re so messy, Itachi,” you teased, rubbing your slick fingers together. “It’s like your hole is trying to tell me something.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” he muttered, cheeks going pink. You laughed and pulled him closer, until you were pressed right against him.

“Don’t worry, baby.” You returned your hand to his hole, but this time started applying a small amount of pressure. “Even if your mouth is too shy to admit it, I’ll give your hole what it needs.”

Your forefinger slipped in just as you finished speaking, only up to the first knuckle for now. With how wet and swollen he was, it was surprisingly easy, even for a virgin. Itachi stiffened, pulling at his restraint a little.

“You okay?”

“Fine, it just feels a little weird,” he said, squirming. “It feels bigger than I thought it would, for a finger.”

“It’s normal for it to feel a little strange at first, but I promise I can make you feel good. You’ll be squirting all over the place in no time.”

Itachi made a little embarrassed noise and dropped his head on your shoulder to hide his face. You gave him a little nuzzle, which he quickly returned. You purred so that he could feel the vibrations; you hoped that would help him relax.

“Deep breath.” You pushed the finger in to the second knuckle and then held it there. You wiggled it to help him get used to the foreign sensation. Itachi kept his head on your shoulder, where he occasionally pressed little kisses to your skin, as you worked on fingering him open.

You fucked the single finger in and out, meeting little resistance. The obscene squelching noises forced a shy whine out of Itachi, who you imagined would be fidgeting a lot more had you not secured him to the ceiling.

“You’re a natural, darling, I’m going to go up to two fingers. It might feel uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, tell me immediately, okay?”

Itachi hummed in agreement but as the seconds ticked on, he seemed more and more focused on fucking himself back against your finger. He was so funny; He always got so embarrassed before and after orgasms, but the build up made him so shameless. As soon as he felt good, all those shy impulses disappeared and you were left with a completely different Itachi.

The second finger went in like a hot knife through butter. Itachi moaned, and with the hand that wasn’t fingering him, you rubbed his back in encouragement. You had originally chosen to finger him like this to give him some comfort as he entered unfamiliar territory, but you couldn’t deny that there weren’t also benefits for you, including the way you were positioned so perfectly to get his strongest, most unfiltered scent. You took a deep breath, letting Itachi’s floral scent of pleasure curl inside your lungs.

“How… How do I squirt?” Itachi asked quietly, face nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know if I can… how does it even work?”

“I just need to find your prostate and then I can make it happen, don’t worry.” You picked up the pace, fingering him in and out, now with two fingers. He was accepting you so easily, drenching your hand in his liquid arousal.

“A prostate? What’s that?”

Your fingers paused their movements as you froze, shocked. Itachi didn’t know what the prostate was? That couldn’t be right, could it? Maybe he’d misspoken? Or you’d misunderstood? You opened your mouth to ask him to clarify, and maybe also ask if he’d ever had proper sex education as a child, but then you realised that it might ruin the mood to bring up his dysfunctional childhood or imply that he was wrong for not knowing something and inadvertently make him feel bad.

You couldn’t not ask someone though.

‘James? Do you know about this? Did Itachi ever have a proper sex education?’

‘Hmm, let me see.’ You got the distinct impression that she was flipping through pages, although you could neither hear nor see them. ‘Ah, yes. Itachi’s father presented him a book on the topic on his seventh birthday before instructing him not to have any questions.’

You rolled your eyes, of course. No wonder the poor man was confused.

“The prostate is a gland in your body that secretes the fluid part of ejaculate,” you explained, slowly starting up the fingering again before Itachi worried that he’d done something wrong. It was his terrible excuse for parents that had done something wrong after all, not him. If you stayed here, you were going to have to step in and give Sasuke the talk, because neither his parents nor older brother seemed qualified. Perhaps that was one mark against staying here… From Itachi’s sketches, you got the distinct impression that Sasuke wouldn’t neither take it well nor make it easy for you. “But it also feels very, very good. Here, let me find yours and I can show you.”

Seeing as Itachi was taking your fingers so well, you saw no issue in moving on to your next target. You crooked your fingers in search of the gland. It shouldn’t be too hard to find; it must be incredibly swollen after all the previous orgasms. Somewhere around here…

“Does it feel different to—”

Found it.

Itachi gasped hoarsely as you found it and began immediately pressing and rubbing at it. His back arched and his hips jolted as he tugged against the bar. His knees went weak for a moment and his weight dropped back to leaning against you as he gasped for air.  

“That’s—That’s—” He couldn’t finish the sentence as you continued to abuse his insides. “Oh my god, oh my god, how, how, it’s so much!”

He shook against you, biting into your shoulder. His moans got louder and more desperate until he was almost screaming. You kept it up until he was leaking all down your hand, some clear drops splashing against the tarpaulin. You pulled the hand from him in a flourish and caught him as he sagged.

There. The next one would be the squirt for sure, you thought, eyeing the liquid rolling down Itachi’s legs.

Itachi was completely limp in your grip. You readjusted your hold on him to make sure that his shoulder joints weren’t too strained, and then focused on bringing him down from that high as tenderly as you could. You stroked his back, whispered sweet nothings, and held him against you as firmly as you could. Four orgasms were a lot for one evening… although with your straining underwear, you reckoned you’d rather have four than none.

Eventually, when he gathered some of his wits about him, Itachi lifted his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eye.

“What the fuck?” was the only thing that came out of his mouth. You almost snorted in surprise at his swearing. “How did that happen? That’s never happened before.”

“I told you that the prostate would feel good,” you said, pecking him on the forehead. “Now, stand up properly so I can fetch the bucket over. I can give you a sex ed talk later, because right now we have a potion ingredient to harvest.”

“Harvest?” Itachi repeated, pulling a face.

You grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, I’ll admit that sounded sexier in my head.”

Itachi giggled a little, but stood up properly, allowing you to let him go and fetch the bucket, which you placed underneath him.

“Now,” you said, wiping your hands on a nearby towel, “do you want to squirt on my fingers or on my cock?”

Itachi’s laughter died off as embarrassment overtook it. You shook your head fondly at his predictable return to bashfulness now that he’d orgasmed.

“I… don’t know.”

“Come on, Itachi, how can I know what to do if you don’t tell me what you need.” You tapped him lovingly on the cheek. You had expected him to become more relaxed at the affectionate gesture, even with the teasing, but instead his face glowed an even brighter red and he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.

What?

‘Human, those are the fingers that were just inside him, meaning he can likely smell his own slick and is embarrassed.’

‘Oh yeah! Haha, forgot about that, thanks James.’

‘You’re welcome, human.’

You withdrew that hand, and while you briefly debated sucking on those fingers to see how he’d react, you discarded that though pretty quickly; you didn’t want to give the poor omega a heart attack.

“You’re not answering my question, ‘tachi. Come on,” you goaded, “tell me how you want me to make you squirt.”

Itachi huffed, still blushing, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Fingers or cock, it’s a simple choice, my darling.”

“I want… can I… your cock, please?” he eventually whispered, looking at you through his dark lashes.

You decided to try your luck in teasing him a bit more. “Oh? And where do you want my cock?”

He squirmed, “You know where.”

“Do I?”

He huffed again, sending you a glare for all the teasing.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, pecking him on the lips. “I’ll put my cock in your greedy hole, but you need to practice your begging for next time, okay?”

He pouted, “You’re mean.”

“Maybe, but I think you’re into it.” You ran a finger up his hard cock. Four orgasms in and he was still going strong, that had to be porn logic at play. Itachi didn’t respond to your hypothesis, which you took to mean that you were right.

Regardless, now was the moment that you’d been waiting so patiently for: you were going to fuck Itachi. Properly. You quickly shed your underwear and allowed your cock to spring up, rock hard and ready for action.

All that build up, from the very first time you met him and his beautiful nipples you’d been imagining what it’d be like. And now, as he looked at you, wide eyed and waiting, you knew that it would be perfect, for both of you, there was no other option. You just had to choose the right position.

You debated briefly going behind him and slipping inside from there. It would make the most practical sense considering the way he was tied up, but something about it didn’t feel right. Itachi deserved something a little more romantic for his first time and you wanted to be able to see his reactions.

Yes, from the front felt right, but with the way he was tied, you’d have to do something a little unconventional.

Standing in front of him, you tenderly stroked his hips, one hand on each side.

“Is everything oka— Ah!”

Itachi yelped as you suddenly hooked your hands under his knees and lifted him off the ground, taking half of his weight in your arms and leaving the other half for the metal bar to hold. As carefully as you could, you shifted your hands from the back of his knees to his butt and dragged him closer until his legs were splayed around your hips.

There. This was the perfect position. You could see his reaction, you had a good angle to fuck him, and most importantly, his nipples were perfect height to kiss, which had recently become a favourite hobby of yours.

“Are you ready?” you asked, rubbing your cock against him to cover it in his slick. He was open and ready for you, you’d made sure of that, but extra lubrication never hurt.

Itachi took a fortifying breath, “I’m ready.”

“Relax.” You grinned at him before delicately slipping the head of your dick into him. Itachi gasped, his muscles clenching immediately and clamping down on you like a vice. You hissed at the warmth and tightness but remained as still as possible to give him time to adjust.

A drop of Itachi’s slick dribbled down your cock and severely tested your resolve to remain still, but you persevered.

“Does it feel alright?” you asked in a strained voice.

“It’s much bigger than your fingers.” He leant forward and looked down at the place where you were both now joined. He gulped at how much there was still left to fit inside him. “Are you sure it’s going to fit?”

“Are you in pain right now?” He shook his head. “Then it should fit just fine.”

“I trust you, it’s just… it’s so big.”

“As you’ve said, many, many times,” you teased. “What is it with you and my dick?”

“I’m ready for you to go in a bit more,” he said, pointedly ignoring your question. He could ignore it all he wanted, but you knew he was obsessed with it, and that would fuel your ego and wet dreams for the rest of your life.

You decided you were too horny to press the issue though, because this omega was telling you he wanted you inside him, and you weren’t going say no.

Balancing his weight on one hand, you used the other to rub at his sensitive dick as a distraction. Once Itachi’s eyes fell closed at the sensation, you pushed in another few inches until you were about half way inside.

His gooey walls felt like heaven, and you were stopping both for his benefit, and your own, because cumming before you’d made him squirt would be unfortunate.

“You’re beautiful, so stunning, so perfect, the best omega,” you muttered, trying to distract yourself. You leant down and licked at his right nipple as the urge to taste him again surged.

Bending down to reach said nipple had the inadvertent effect of angling your cock directly into Itachi’s prostate. He jolted, mouth dropping open.

“There, hit there again.” His voice was as urgent as the throbbing dick in between his legs. “There, right there, please!”

You did as he asked, angling your hips again. Itachi shuddered, his arousal pushing out his earlier embarrassment, just as it had on the build up to his other orgasms.

“Put the rest in, I want it in!”

“Are you sure? We should move slowly to make sure—”

“No!” Even Itachi looked shocked at how loudly he had protested the idea of fucking him slowly. “I mean, I can take it, I promise, just put it in.”

You raised an eyebrow, but when Itachi refused to waiver, you decided just to go for it. Internal tears were not sexy, so porn logic would probably protect him.

You pulled on his hips and pushed forward with yours, sliding effortlessly into the wet heat that was more than ready to welcome you.

“It’s so big! It’s stretching me out!” Itachi babbled, head falling back. “Oh my god, I can feel it, it’s inside me.”

You almost laughed; you had never met an omega that was so easy to make cock drunk. You had even heard him talking about your dick in his sleep last night. He was so perfect.

“You love my cock, don’t you baby?” Itachi nodded furiously, drooling a little. Finally, your hips hit flush against his cheeks. “There you go, baby, is that what you wanted?”

Itachi whined, still nodding. “I need it, don’t take it away.”

“I won’t, darling,” you said, cock throbbing at his words. You glanced down and what you saw almost forced your cum from you immediately. He had a tummy bulge. You could see the outline of your cock in his tummy. You felt your instincts clawing at your mind in delight, a slight tinge of something distinctly feral lining your scent. “Open your eyes, omega, I want to show you something.”

Itachi did as he was told, his heavily lidded eyes meeting yours. Several strands of hair had somehow escaped from his ponytail again and were stuck with sweat to his face. He had never looked prettier.

“Look at your tummy, darling.” Itachi’s brows furrowed, but he did as asked. He stared for a moment as though he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. To help him, you pulled out completely, only to immediately plunge back in. Itachi’s stomach flattened out and then bulged as you moved.

Itachi’s eyes snapped fully open. He jumped to look up at your face, wide eyed and shocked into silence.

“That’s my cock inside you, I’m carving out a place, so that no other cock will ever be able to satisfy you like mine. Your hole is going to ache for me now, it’s going to miss me when I’m gone, I’m making sure of it.”

Itachi was staring at the bulge like he didn’t know how to process what was happening.

“It’s a good job we live in the middle of nowhere, because I’m going to need to feed your slutty hole my cock all the time to keep it satisfied.”

All at once, Itachi’s eyes bled red like that day in town, he seized up, and his cock shot cum all over his tummy bulge. You watched, obsessed, as Itachi started to cum from your dirty talk. The bliss that overtook him was so powerful that you were worried he would tug the metal bar out of the ceiling as he spasmed and moaned. You almost forgot that you were here to make him squirt.

Almost.

Recognising that this needed to end soon because Itachi had to squirt and you couldn’t hold in your own orgasm for much longer, you grabbed his hips and set a brutal pace, fucking in and out of him with abandon.

Itachi’s moans became moaned screams as you pounded him through his orgasm, elongating it and then quickly sending him hurtling towards another one.

The position you were in was aiding your pace, as you were able to move Itachi up and down by his hips, dragging his entire weight down onto your cock, using him almost like a fleshlight.

You had never felt more single minded. You were chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, and the only rational brain cells you had left online were fully focused on making sure you didn’t accidentally give Itachi a mating mark.

Itachi’s moan was now one long syllable, broken only by voice cracks that plagued him on every other thrust. Itachi’s walls were massaging you perfectly, flexing and fluttering in an almost wave-like motion that Itachi was definitely not capable of performing consciously; it must have been an inherent erotica trait.  

You had to fuck him, you had to make him squirt, you had to cum inside him.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” Itachi babbled, tears slowly running down his face.

“’m going to cum, omega, I’m going to cum inside you, I’m so close.”

“Don’t stop,” he sobbed, pulling fruitlessly at his restraints. “Alpha, don’t stop, I think I’m going to cum. It’s so hot!”

Your knot was starting to swell, and much to your displeasure, you knew you couldn’t knot him if you wanted to properly collect his slick. You had just enough restraint left to jerk away as your knot started to catch on his tie.

Itachi thrashed as you held him over the bucket. He pulled at the scarf and kicked out with his legs. His eyes flashed red under his eyelids. Clear liquid shot out of him with force, and the sound of his ejaculate splattering in the bucket filled the room.

There was no way you’d have been able to hold back your own orgasm at such a sight, and so you followed suit, cumming a load all over Itachi’s newly softening dick, until it was completely covered, and some was dripping steadily to join his slick in the bucket.

You both fell silent in the aftermath, panting heavily. The crackle of the fire suddenly sounded louder than you had realised, and your limbs felt like they were made of lead.

You had never felt anything so intense.

‘James?’ Even your mental voice sounded tired.

‘Yes, human alpha?’

‘Picking erotica was the best choice ever.’

‘I’m glad you are satisfied.’

A laugh bubbled its way up. Satisfied indeed.

…

“It’s done,” Itachi said, stirring the newly shining gold potion. “It took a day longer than expected, but the potion is perfect.”

You peered into the cauldron, “Do I have to drink some of it?”

“No, several of the ingredients are very toxic, so please don’t drink it. I will use the potion to paint some runes on your face, which should trigger the process of retrieving your memories.” He grabbed a little paintbrush and nervously ran his fingers over the bristles. You had done your very best to convince Itachi that you weren’t going to abandon him as soon as you got your memories back, at least, not in the way he was thinking, but it was obvious that he was still deeply apprehensive.

You sat down in front of Itachi and closed your eyes, letting him paint the runes. You were weirdly nervous even though you knew the potion wasn’t going to have any effect at all. Mentally, you ran through the backstory you had crafted. MLHH, you repeated, Money, Love, Health, Happiness.

You startled as the first brush strokes hit your skin. “It tickles.”

“Sorry,” Itachi said, not sounding very sorry. His voice was tense, but you didn’t hold it against him.

It was a strange feeling, after spending over two weeks with him, knowing that you were leaving him behind, at least for the moment. It was a cocktail of emotions. You were sad to leave Itachi, excited to see the next pocket dimension, guilty about being excited… It was a lot.

You comforted yourself by reminding yourself that you could return if you wanted to. No one would force you to leave Itachi for good, that was entirely your decision. You didn’t have to leave him if you didn’t want to.

“It’s done.” You opened your eyes and saw Itachi watching you nervously. Was he waiting for something to happen? Was something supposed to happen?

‘James, is something supposed to happen with this potion? To show that it worked?’

‘Of course.’

‘What?! What’s supposed to happen? Am I supposed to glow, scream, black out? Do I need to act? What do I do?!’

‘You’re supposed to regain your memories, human alpha, have you been paying attention?’

‘…’

You took that to mean that nothing spectacular was supposed to happen, and you just pretended to suddenly gain clarity with a gasp.

“I remember everything,” you said, acting like you were processing the returned memories. “It worked!”

“What do you remember?” Itachi was nervous, clutching the paint brush tightly to his chest.

“I was hiking in those woods, but I tripped and hit my head, that’s why you found me unconscious. I had intended to leave before nightfall, but I was knocked out and got caught in the snow. I was trying to kill time on my own, as my family are away on a business trip, they’re merchants you see, and my best friend is currently travelling for a wedding.”

“You’re from a merchant family? They must want you home soon.” Itachi sounded dejected, but like he was trying to be happy for you. His fake enthusiasm hurt your soul. Thankfully, you had come up with an explanation that would allow you to stay.

“Not really, you see, I never wanted to follow in their footsteps, I always wanted to carve my own path. My family love me, they just want me to be happy, and I know I’m happy here, with you. They’ll support me no matter what. They own a big house that we can stay in any time, but here is where my heart is.”

“And you’re single?” Itachi asked, desperate hope in his voice.

“Completely and utterly single. Although… I would be honoured if you would help me change that.”

Itachi’s face split into a big grin and he threw himself into your arms.

“You want to stay?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever,” he said firmly. He beamed at you with watery eyes and leant in for a kiss.

“Forever,” you repeated, but just as his lips were about to meet yours, your vision went blurry, and faded to black.

When our eyes refocused a half second later, you found yourself back in the library, staring at James, the ghost of a kiss on your lips. You were disorientated and already missing Itachi.

“Here, human.” James touched your head and your thoughts and emotions cleared. “Until you have the time to compartmentalise, it is more convenient if I supress conflicting emotions. It would be unfortunate if you could not give the next pocket dimension your full attention.”

“Yeah, it would be,” you agreed, already feeling lighter. As much as you loved your time there with Itachi, you were looking forward to the next book too. If anything, you were even more excited because you knew that no matter what happened, you had a life you wanted with Itachi. Even if you hated this next world, you could pull as many shenanigans as you wanted, knowing you had a safe world to return to.

“We do not have time to discuss anything here. Put your hand on the second book.” You did as she asked, watching as her hand joined yours. “Welcome to the world of ‘Fifty Shades of Audacity’.”

Next chapter

[stickybowl]

Paul: and you can’t hit the button before the question’s finished

Paul: [asks the question]

Carlos: [presses the buzzer in the middle of the question]

Paul: what did I just say?

Carlos: I thought you had finished