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atoltia · 1 month ago

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The Need to Indulge

You arrived with an injury again. Only this time, there's a certain snow-haired man waiting for you when you get home.

In which Sylus buys you groceries and tends to your wounds.

TW: injury, blood, some swearing Tags: hurt/comfort, danger is their love language

Sylus x fem!MC

-0-

You've grown accustomed to the pain.

Being broken over and over and over again, to heal and to mend, to spend days, weeks in the stark white of a hospital room enveloped by the all-surrounding scent of antiseptic just to get up and work the moment you were medically cleared - you were used to that life.

Eight years on the job and you've conditioned your body to suppress it, ignore it. You didn't need it, not when there were Wanderers causing harm to the people you've sworn to protect.

Even if that meant constantly coming home in the dead of night, exhausted, a dull thrum pulsing at the base of your skull as you staggered to your apartment.

Today was particularly bad.

You weren't even supposed to be involved. It was end of shift, and for once you were excited to be able to go home on time for the first time in months. Just get out the door, just get the hell out before you were pulled into another mission.

You managed to get to the train without a hitch, managed to sink into the bench without a blip. A smile tugged at your lips. Maybe tonight would be the right time to eat that tub of ice cream you got over a week ago, maybe you can even start that new show you promised Jenna that you'd watch over three months ago. Maybe you can finally get some decent fucking sleep.

But of course you weren't that lucky.

The cold wave of dread washed over you when your hunter's watch signaled, the incessant beeping heating up your blood so fast it alerted not just you but the people around you.

Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires immediate medical assistance.

You racked your brain as you hit the emergency switch on the cart you were on, the sharp wind snapping at your cloak when the window opened enough for you to leap out the moving train as you swore, leaving the Linkon City citizenry gawking. You jumped down from the track and into the busy street and bulled your way through the mass of bodies as you dove deep into your memory as to who the hell was Alpha Team B this week.

Skylar Morrison, age twenty-one. Edward Fleming, age twenty. Cormorant Kurr, age twenty. Rookies straight from the academy. Rookies that had just fucking graduated two months ago. If your memory was correct, there was no team assigned to patrol NH-Zone 7 today and tomorrow, seeing as the association was testing out the new surveillance technology that they've recently acquired.

You glanced up at the sky, ice in your veins as you watched the sunlight slowly fade. If they get stranded there while hurt the moment the light is gone, they'd be dead. If you didn't get to them soon, they'd be dead. From the fast chatter and reports from your watch, you were the closest hunter in the vicinity.

It took you a considerable amount of time to find them, even with the coordinates sent out by your watch every thirty seconds. You were already so deep into the forest that you'd know the medical unit would take a longer time to get there than those on foot. There were medical supplies on your person, as was required by protocol, but you were sure it wasn't enough for three people.

The rapid fire sound of gunshots made you quicken your pace, slowing when the tree line opened up to reveal the violence still occurring. Eyes scanned the scenario, clocking one hunter laying by a smatter of boulders. Bleeding, unmoving. One other hunter stayed by their side, one hand limp as the other barraged three winged Wanderers with bullets. The third one - Fleming, you were sure - was in close combat with another.

Shit.

You didn't have time to think, didn't have time to dwell on it. You unsheathed your sword and got to work.

-0-

It was already dark when you managed to get home.

You didn't track any blood on the floor this time, but only due to the fact that Jenna managed to drag you to the on-site medical unit and ordered your injuries to get cleaned and dressed even though you could do this your damned self once you've gone home and took a shower.

You just wanted the quiet, damn it, just to ease the ringing in your ear that stemmed from hearing your superior officer rip a new one into the three rookie hunters. You were grateful for it though, even if the kids had to take the brunt of it. You knew full well just how scathing Jenna tended to be when her hunters went out of their way to ignore association guidelines and nearly get themselves killed - as well as the fact that it gave you the window you needed to slip out and away before you got shipped to the hospital. You'll just take the hit of her wrath about ignoring protocol tomorrow, after you've passed out cold in the middle of your bed.

The door opened with the soft hum and beep of the fingerprint scanner as a sigh of relief puffed out from you chest. Finally within the confines of your home, finally within your sanctum, with the softness of your bed in reach. You'd take a shower first, of course. No matter how many times you come home half-dead and tired to the bone, cleanliness is a must.

With the shaking of your hands, the tremble of your breath, you slowly, gingerly, took your boots off. Arranged them neatly against the wall alongside your other footwear. The automatic light that you received more than a year ago was dark. Hm, you might have to replace it soon, or at least see if it's just the bulb. You were rather fond of that light, with its silly bird shape. It was something that Jenna got you as a joke for your birthday, before handing you her actual gift. Something to liven up the place, you remember her say. Neither of you expected that you would like it more than just a silly trinket -

Your hands stilled as your breath halted, your once relaxed eyes going into full alert as you reached back for the gun strapped to your thigh. The emptiness that usually met you was gone, the still air that you were accustomed to wasn't there.

This place has been your home for nearly a decade now and you knew it like the back of your hand and would be able to silently navigate it even with the absence of light. Silent as a cat, you kept your position low, legs ready to spring up, your body braced for any assault. Not a peep, not a single pin drop could be heard.

But you didn't dismiss it.

Listen to your gut, that's what you learned through years of experience, the instinct that you polished kept you alive, kept you whole. You weren't about to break that streak now.

Could it be a Wanderer? No. If it was, it would have attacked you by now. A person, then. A person stupid enough to break into the home of a highly trained hunter.

Not wanting to break the stillness, your exhaled. Focused.

When you first entered the academy, you were deemed to be someone that had to be constantly paired with another Evolver. Your evol was meant to be for support, they told you long ago. It would be most useful if you had another person with you.

But that won't do. That won't do at all. Not all hunters had the privilege of going into battle with a partner. You were not going to allow yourself to become a liability.

So you trained, thought of other ways to use your Resonance evol.

And in the darkness of your apartment, you focused your mind and exhaled. A wave, unseen by anyone but you, emerged from you. Reaching out, reaching forth into the shadows, trying to pinpoint any living creature in the room.

It pinged.

The warmth of it surprised you, the initial prickly sensation of the other person's evol slowly enveloped you with a slow, burning heat. A familiar heat that you were damned sure you've resonated with many times before.

You hissed, bracing yourself against the wall from your crouched position as you strapped the gun back in its holster.

"Sylus, what the fuck."

The low rumble from his laugh came from the living room, and even with the absence of light you could see the way his ruby eyes glinted at you with mirth.

It was an interesting display, one that he would be thinking about for a long time. Those eyes of yours that were drowning in exhaustion only moments ago was quick to fade as it flattened, emotionless and alert. The slow, practiced moves of your hands that reached for the weapon, the impressive use of your evol to sense where he was.

He knew you were competent at your job, and to see the evidence of it firsthand always gave him a burst of satisfaction.

Sylus lounged at your sofa, a glass in hand as he regarded you even in the darkness. You sighed and set your lights on ten percent, not needing the harshness of the overhead lights washing over the both of you. You continued your routine, pointedly ignoring the man as you stripped your body of the weapons you always carried and gently placed them on side table by the door just before you peeled your ripped jacket from your body to leave you just in your sleeveless tank, your hands automatically smoothing it out and hanging it on the hook as neatly as it could be.

It was odd, Sylus thought as he watched your body automatically move to keep your items in order, that he found this sort of sensual. The precision of it, the cold methodology of it - there was no deliberate sexuality to your movements, no conscious attempt to make yourself desirable in front of him. There was just a single-minded purpose in your brain right now and it was just to get it done.

It turned him on.

"You could make a show of that, kitten." There was a chuckle in his voice, making you take a glance. The warmth of the low light washed over his features like a blanket, the shadows perfectly highlighting the contours of his face.

He really is beautiful, you thought as you strode to where he sat, face impassive as you bent down, those bruised hands of yours gripping the backrest of the couch to cage him in. You didn't mind playing his games, didn't mind the teasing, the insinuations. The soft, lingering touches he sometimes used in an attempt to scramble your mind was not lost on you. The way he would slink so close to you, so much that you would be able to feel the emanating heat from his body wasn't at all unpleasant - it was nice, even.

You were so close, so close, humming when the the spice and musk of his cologne wafted through your nose. "You should have told me you were coming over," you murmured, mouth hovering over his. It pleased you to see the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly, his fingers that were comfortably resting on his lap twitching to touch, aching to feel you. "I would have made myself look more..." His eyes sharpened onto your lips, the desire evident as you moved them close, mere centimeters apart, about to do something forbidden. "...presentable."

Those large, strong arms whipped forward to grip your waist when you moved back, sharply pulling you in so you fell on his lap. "You're not getting away that easily." There was a groan in his voice, almost an octave lower, reaching, demanding, as those long fingers rubbed gentle circles on your hip.

"If I asked for a kiss," he matched your tone, the low murmuring of his voice a gentle vibration in the air around you as his eyes glinted. "Will you grant it?"

You searched his eyes, smiled. This was a dangerous game, a possibly fatal game. He was so... thrilling, so exciting. You've already sunk yourself lower into his games, played along of your own free will. If the Association knew of your connection to him, they'd have you hunted with no mercy.

But he was just so warm. And no matter how much his life differed from yours, no matter how much his past deeds was a dark smear compared to yours, you knew that he wasn't a liar. Not once, in all of the months you've... rendezvoused with him, has he ever harmed you except for the first few days of your meeting.

And was it so wrong to want someone like him? To have a man like him want you? To have his strong hands on you? To possess, to be possessed, to be coveted? It's been so long since you've been intimate with someone, been so long to have had someone want you and never in the way that he does.

He gave you moments of respite, whether it be here or in the N109 Zone. And that's what you wanted, right? You wanted time, you wanted rest, you just wanted to goddamn sleep.

You traced a finger down his cheek, rubbed under the hallow of his eye, smiled as you pushed away from him to stand.

And immediately felt the wave of exhaustion hit you.

He was behind you in a heartbeat in a shower of feathers, the energy of his evol radiating off of him in a steady thrum, that simple and pure strength of him held you up as you drifted away for a second. You blinked as your senses flooded back into you, huffed a breath when you noticed his hands gripping protectively at your waist. You smiled.

In a blink of an eye, you whirled in a speed that even he didn't account for. Even as your muscles screamed, you had your face upturned to his, the blade that was hidden in your belt nicking the skin of his neck.

He regarded you, amused, as his hands still palmed your hips. Sylus definitely understood your reputation wasn't just for show, even when he felt warm liquid drip from where your knife pointed at his throat.

"You're so gosh darn pretty," you murmured when he said nothing, your other hand carding through his snow-white hair, your other letting go of the blade, letting it fall on to the floor with a soft thud just so you could wipe the thin line of blood that dripped. He swayed you, his chest vibrating as he purred a soft tune as you tilted your face up, up, and pressed a soft kiss on the wound. "This one should do it."

You slithered away from his grasp, grinned as you ambled towards the bedroom, leaving him standing in the middle of your living room with a smirk on his face.

He watched you pitter patter around yet only the barest of sounds could be heard, and Sylus was sure it was because of his own training that he could even hear you. You were definitely interesting, quite unlike the people he's had dealings with before. And definitely more amusing that some common grunt.

Sylus strode past to follow only to stop when your phone beeped once, twice, three times, the screen lighting up to show a simple reminder: 10:00 PM Eat Food. He frowned as he picked up the phone, sighed when your calendar showed that reminder set to everyday.

He's been in your apartment for several hours already, so much so that he finished quite a bit of work and managed to get an afternoon nap while he waited for you. You stopped questioning how he got through your biometric lock, at this point you don't even care.

He did some snooping, of course he would. Sylus didn't rifle through any of your drawers nor any papers that laid in neat stacks on one of your bookshelves, but he did check the titles of your books, how you arranged your furniture, the things in your refrigerator and cupboards.

He was not at all impressed.

Multipacks of nutrition jelly and economy packs of energy bars dominated your fridge, neatly stacked at the far corner alongside bottles of water and energy drinks. There were fruit cups, at least, but still it didn't and couldn't justify the amount of artificial sustenance you were consuming for your daily intake of nutrients. Beside the fridge were bottles of vitamin supplements, one nearly empty.

It should be alright now as he ordered Luke and Kieran to get you supplies and groceries that could at the very least last you several months. Your cupboards that used to be devoid of anything but dust were now cleaned and filled with grains, rice, pasta, spices, and tinned food that cost more than half a month of your salary. Both dried and fresh fruit were now part of your inventory, as well as other non-perishables.

Eggs, bread, cured and fresh meats, vegetables - anything that you could possibly need for proper nourishment now packed your kitchen, barring any of your allergies that he was aware of. He was aware of your habits, watched you fumble through your apartment day in and day out through Mephisto's eyes and not a single day has past that he hadn't felt the need stop himself from just plucking you up from Linkon City and making you live with him instead.

With all the things he wanted to do with you at first, the amount of luxuries that he wanted to pile on top of you, right now the dominated desire that enveloped him was to make sure you were fed.

And that was a challenge already.

It wasn't that you wanted him to worry. It was just you didn't have the time. The energy you could use to cook could be used to cleaning your weapons and the sooner you could drag yourself to bed, the better.

But still, you didn't like the way he looked at you whenever you meet and you've spent another two days awake, didn't like the way he would hover when he felt like you weren't eating properly. Oh he stilled teased you, still provoked you, but beneath it all there was an underlying concern that you just didn't have the energy to push away.

The hot spray of water was a relief, as proved by the groan that left you when you felt the blood and grime wash away from your battered body. You looked down, hissed at the sight of the gash that ran from your hip to your stomach. It wasn't deep enough to be concerning, but you knew you had to get it cleaned and dressed quickly.

You washed, let the warmth of the water soak in your bones, before you stepped out and dried yourself off. As you thought, your left arm and half of your torso were already blooming with bruises. Well, you chuckled to yourself, at least your face was unscathed this time.

With a hum you put on your underwear and strode towards the medicine cabinet, listing off all the supplies you knew you would need.

"Fuck," you hissed. You ran out of bandages.

You closed your eyes, slowed your breathing as you thought of a possible solution to this. You could just go out and buy some, but the nearest convenience store didn't even sell the type of bandages that you needed. Not to mention that you could just aggravate it more and possibly get it infected.

But Sylus... Sylus was here. Maybe you could -

Hm. It was worth a shot.

You stood, firmly secured the towel over your chest as you peeked out the door, tilted your head to the side at the sight of him wearing your summer yellow apron with tiny embroidered flowers over his expensive shirt, his capable hands tossing what looked to be pasta on the pan. This was not something that you quite expected, but he looked so cute to your that you couldn't help but lean against the doorjamb as you were enthralled by this sudden act of domesticity from the leader of Onychinus.

And yet.

The stinging at your side made you inhale sharply before sighing. It needed to be dealt with now.

"Sylus." Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, but it was enough to make him turn. It amused you when he raised his brow, those sharp eyes of his wandering from your face, to your bare chest, to your legs.

"Sweetie," he said as he set the finished pasta aside. "If you're trying to lure me to bed, you're going to succeed."

Your laugh drew a smile out of him as he took a few steps towards you, his arms folded over his wide chest. "So?" There was curiosity in his eyes, just above the simmering heat. "Was there anything that you needed?"

You stayed by the door, your hair falling to the side of your face as you tilted your head once more. There's no beating around the bush with this man, so there's no point in playing coy. Especially since you might get yourself in an even worse position that could medically incapacitate you for a few days. Or worse, be medically incapacitated for a few days at the hospital.

So.

"Could you use your evol to stitch me up?"

There was an unreadableness to his face, one that you've seen only a few times before. He just stood there, still as a statue, the only change to his expression was the furrowing of his brow.

"Show me."

If you didn't spend a long time trying to decipher this man, you would have missed the slight hitch, the small change in inflection in his low voice at the command. You reached out, took his hand into yours, and pulled him into the bedroom.

Sylus didn't wander in here while you were gone, preferring to do so while in your presence. Your bedroom wasn't all that different to the rest of your apartment. A bit sparse, but not Spartan in decoration. Although the place leaned more towards function over aesthetics, there were little nick knacks that popped out in their tidy, little spaces. Small figurines dotted your bookshelf, soft plushies placed neatly on various tables and furniture. Pictures of you and what he assumed as your captain, Jenna, and a few of your colleagues rested on a table next to your bed.

He sat on the edge of your bed, his hands folded neatly over his lap, tapping as he watched you slide the towel off of your still damp body, your calloused yet gentle hands folding it with practiced ease and placing it next to you as you sat. You peered at him, muffled a laugh when you saw him shamelessly studying your nude torso.

"Like what you see?"

"Hm." His eyes were sharp as they regarded you, regarded the strength that showed in your physicality, the gorgeous swell of your chest, the stray water droplet that fell from your bruised shoulder down your arm. And zeroed in on that massive slash, still red and puffy, on your side.

"I didn't know we were already at that stage where you would show me your body without my prompting."

"Please," there was mock derision in your voice. "You've already seen my tits when we got linked. Don't tell me the incredibly intelligent leader of Onychinus already forgot what they looked like?" There was a grin on his mouth but the laughter didn't reach his eyes. You didn't like that one bit. "Sylus." You reached over, cupped his face. "I'm okay."

"It's going to hurt." His voice was so soft, so tender as he leaned into your touch. The gruff elegance that always seemed to exude from him was gone in this moment, wherein focused contemplation reigned instead.

"I know."

Your eyes locked for a moment, and then another, and another, before he yielded. Taking your hand on his cheek, he pulled you closer and rested your head on his shoulder. "If you need to bite something, just bite my shoulder."

"I don't think this is the time for your kinks, Sylus."

"Sweetheart, we all have to get our fun somehow."

You laughed as you leaned into his touched, the scent of his cologne sending comfort throughout your body. "Go ahead."

Those gentle fingers of his trailed your skin, heat following wherever it went. It wasn't so bad, it was almost like droplets of the hot water you used for your morning coffee, feathering over your bruises as if kissing away the wounds.

But the heat quickly turned into a sharp flame, searing, slowly searing into you as you felt you skin stretch, connect, stitch itself within itself before dissipating into particles of red ash.

You didn't see how much Sylus was monitoring your breathing, searching for any minute reaction that you could be doing to hide your pain from him. With a click of his tongue, he pulled you back, those beautiful carmine eyes of his burning into yours.

"Darling," there was a warning edge to his tone as the black and red ink of his evol swirled around you. "Talk to me."

But you weren't afraid, weren't at all in pain. You bumped your nose to his chin. Smiled. "Keep going."

You could see how much he wanted to stop, how much he wanted to just swaddle you in his arms. There was a tightness in your jaw, a twitch in your eye, your fingers clamping onto his thigh.

And still, you kissed his neck, to comfort him more than for your own benefit.

"Sweetie," his voice was rough as he massaged your leg. "Most people would be screaming."

"I'm not most people now, am I?"

"Now I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." But he kept going.

It was quicker, much quicker once he's gauged your pain tolerance. Every single mark and injury that marred your skin scattered to ash, to nothingness. The stinging that annoyed you during your trek back from the forest was gone. Both of you sighed.

"Thanks, Sy."

"Don't ever ask me to do that again."

There was a petulance in his voice, a deep annoyance that was more than irritation, leaned more towards fear. Your lips met his in a quiet apology. "No promises."

He clicked his tongue as he shook his head at you, those wide shoulders shrugging in temporary defeat. "You will be the death of me."

"Oh yes," there was an innocence in your voice, one that was met with a snort. You pushed yourself from your seated position on the bed and sat on his lap, not minding the way your legs straddled over him. You cradled his face, massaged his scalped, stared deeply into his eyes. "If you are going to die," you whispered, your lips once again hovering over his luscious ones. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to give in. To give yourself to him. "It's because I've killed you slowly." Fingers traced his bottom lip, the curve of his chin. "Thoroughly." A kiss to his well-defined nose. "Because you are my quarry, as I am yours. Do you understand?"

Sylus' eyes shined like polished rubies and you swear you could hear the hammering of his heart even when his face gave away nothing.

He gripped the back of your neck, caressed the base of your skull as he cocked his head. Smirked wickedly. "I agree to those terms."

"Good." And before he could do anything else, because the bastard would definitely do something else, you maneuvered yourself out of his grasp and into the kitchen in one swift, playful move. "Food's getting cold."

Your laugh tinkled out when you moved away from his reach, winking at him when he just watched you saunter away.

Oh he'll accept the loss this time. Next time, however, he's not going to let you off that easily.

From the confines of your closet, he quickly grabbed one of your nightshirts and followed you out the door.

Check out my other Sylus fics here!

Also please send me ideas, I am running out lmao (｡•́︿•̀｡)

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus hurt/comfort #lads #honestly lost steam by the end of this lmao #there were a couple more i wanted to add but ngl i dont wanna look at this anymore :^)#atoltia writes in deepspace

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unusualtfs · 2 months ago

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The Roommate Compatibility Program

this is my first time posting something like this to tumblr, hope it's an enjoyable read !

Arthur and Jimmy may have had the same last name, but that was the only thing they had in common.

Arthur Lee was, by all accounts, a nerd. When the Asian math major wasn’t dutifully taking notes on complex equations at his lectures or studying in silence at the library, he could usually be found holed up in his dorm, gaming until the wee hours of the morning. His only extracurricular activity to speak of was his weekly participation in the Chinese Student Union, if by “participation” one meant “sitting in the back of the room and not speaking to anyone.” His naturally pale skin was made even more so by a lack of sunlight, and his messy black hair resisted any attempt at styling. Short, shrimpy, and gay, he had clearly never seen the inside of a gym. In short, he was the exact opposite of his roommate.

Jimmy Lee was everything Arthur was not. Tall where Arthur was short, buff where Arthur was skinny, popular where Arthur was friendless. The straight white jock spent his days living out the all-American college fantasy — playing sports, pumping iron, and partying all night long. Of course, that hardly left any time for Jimmy to work toward his comms degree — but that hardly mattered, because everyone knew he was as dumb as a bag of rocks. His brutish Neanderthal features, extensive body hair, and blond buzz cut only added to that impression.

Maybe it would have been unrealistic to expect Arthur and Jimmy to be friends, but certainly no one could have anticipated the sheer antipathy that defined their roommate relationship. Arthur’s reasons for hating Jimmy were predictable — he was dumb, loud, and obnoxious; he left dirty clothes and sweaty exercise gear everywhere; and he stank up the dorm with his alpha musk. Jimmy equally couldn’t stand his prissy, prudish roommate. Arthur nagged him constantly, and he shot down all his invitations to work out or go out. Not to mention, he forbade Jimmy from getting laid while he was in the room, which was all the time. Nothing said unsexy like the presence of a judgmental Asian nerd hunched over his gaming PC at two in the morning.

Needless to say, it was not an ideal situation for anyone. So when a flier for the Roommate Compatibility Program was slipped under their door one evening, their interest was piqued.

Having issues with your roommate(s)? The Roommate Compatibility Program is here to help! Our trained experts use scientifically proven methods to ensure you and your roommate have a lifelong bond. 100% success rate, guaranteed!

In a rare moment of agreement for them, they decided they had nothing to lose.

That was how they found themselves entertaining a stranger in their dorm the next day. The man, who had introduced himself as “Mr. Thompson-Filipowski, from the RCP — but you can call me Mr. T.F. for short” had shown up out of the blue, giving them no time to prepare. So now they sat in their respective beds, answering Mr. T.F.’s questions as he appraised their living space thoughtfully. He wore a loud blue suit and had in hand a clipboard that he occasionally used to jot down notes, but otherwise he had no distinguishing features to speak of. Everything else about him, from his build to his skin tone to his hairstyle, was somehow impossible to pin down. He must have just had one of those faces.

“Thank you, boys,” he said after he was done interrogating them about their (lack of a) relationship. “I just have one more question for each of you before we can officially get started.” He turned to Jimmy first. “Jimmy, what would your ideal roommate be like?”

Jimmy had to think for quite a bit at that question. Finally, he responded in his vapid baritone: “Uh, I dunno… I guess he would just, like, be my bro.”

Mr. T.F. nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Okay, excellent.” He turned to the Asian nerd next. “And Arthur, what about you?”

“My ideal roommate would be someone who’s, well, similar to me,” Arthur said, wincing at how his voice still cracked at every word. “Someone who shares my interests, and who I can spend time with, and… yeah.”

Mr. T.F. returned to his clipboard. “Right,” he said. “So, to summarize — Jimmy, you want your roommate to be your bro. And Arthur, you want your roommate to be similar to you. Is that correct?” There was a strange weight to his words, exuding the sense that something significant was carried within them, but Jimmy didn’t register this and Arthur thought it irrational, so both roommates ignored it. They nodded.

“Excellent!” Mr. T.F. said, the ominous presence now gone from his voice. “Okay, so often what we’ve found at the RCP is that roommate incompatibility is often a case of misapplied expectations. Often, our roommates do meet our expectations, you just need to keep an open mind about it. I’d wager you boys have much more in common than you think.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and Jimmy audibly scoffed at that, but they both kept listening anyway.

“For instance, looking around your dorm room, I can tell that both of you have a pretty similar fashion sense, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur wanted to protest that all of the clothes strewn about belonged to Jimmy, not him, but the more he looked, the more he realized that wasn’t entirely true. That jersey on the floor definitely belonged to him, as did the baseball cap hanging from his bed and the sweaty white socks next to his desk. In fact, now that he thought about it, roughly half of the clothing he could see actually was his. Huh, he supposed he did dress similarly to Jimmy, then…

“I guess so,” Jimmy said as Arthur was distracted. “It’s hard to remember whose is whose sometimes because we dress the same and wear the same size, huhuh.”

As Jimmy spoke, his words became reality. He didn’t notice, but he shrunk down a few inches from his previously monstrous height until he was just under six feet — still respectable, but no longer anything more. Meanwhile, Arthur rose dramatically to meet him, until they stood at the exact same height. Since the two were equally small and shared the same taste in schlubby, sporty clothes, they essentially owned one wardrobe between them, borrowing and swapping constantly — although what looked tight and well-fitted on the muscular Ajimmy was loose and baggy on the lanky Jarthur. Curiously, the shirt Jarthur currently wore was the one item of clothing he wore that didn’t update itself to match his new reality; as such, it was now uncomfortably small on him.

Mr. T.F. continued, “And judging by the sports gear and gaming equipment in here, it looks like you also have similar interests, isn’t that right? Have you ever tried bonding over that?”

Again, it seemed Mr. T.F. was mistaken. Yes, their room indicated their respective interests in fitness and video games, but those interests were far from shared. Jarthur wanted to correct him, but then he had to reconsider. While he wasn’t into sports like Ajimmy, he certainly knew his way around them. He got as hyped as any other guy watching the Super Bowl, and he had fun whenever he was invited to play a quick game of basketball or soccer.

Meanwhile, Ajimmy was trying not to laugh at the implication that he liked video games. What did Mr. T.F. take him for, some nerd like Jarthur? But now that he thought about it… he did have fond memories of owning his bros with his mad gaming skills. He didn’t really want to call himself a gamer — he wasn’t into any of that anime or Nintendo kiddie shit. But Madden, CoD? Yeah, he fucked with those.

Imperceptibly, the dorm room shifted to match the roommates’ changing interests. Posters of popular players duplicated themselves from Ajimmy’s side of the room and pinned themselves into the wall above Jarthur’s bed. At the same time, the gaming computer vanished from Jarthur’s desk, swiftly replaced by a small TV between their beds. Well-used controllers popped into existence, one for each of them. The roommates themselves weren’t spared from the wave of changes, either. The tan leached out of Asjimm’s skin until he was quite pale, although not unhealthily so. Meanwhile, muscles made themselves known for the first time all across Joethur’s body. He was still lanky, but there was a definite sculptedness to his body that had never been there before, demonstrating his newfound appreciation of physical activity and straining his shirt even further.

“Yeah, all the time,” Joethur responded to Mr. T.F.’s questions. “I can destroy Asjimm at basketball in real life and in 2K,” he bragged.

“As if!” Asjimm retorted good-naturedly. “Next time, I’m kicking your ass, nerd!”

Joethur laughed. He may have had some problems with his roommate, but their shared competitiveness was not one of them.

“Ah, that’s lovely to hear,” Mr. T.F. said, checking a box on his clipboard. “The best way to become closer is to spend time together, after all. But that should be easy for you two — I’d imagine your class schedules are quite similar, since you’re in the same major.”

What was Mr. T.F. talking about? Joethur had never taken a comms class in his life, and Asjimm would certainly never be caught dead in a math classroom. But then Joethur went over his class schedule in his head again, and he realized that he did share most of his classes with his roommate. There was Accounting 101 on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Entrepreneurship every Thursday morning… In fact, aside from Joethur’s one math class and Asjimm’s lone comms class, their schedules were identical! But how could that be the case…?

“Well, I mean, yeah, I guess we do,” Asjimm said. His face twisted into a cocky smirk. “But just between you and me, it’s not like we bother to show up to class most of the time, right Joethyr?”

Everything suddenly snapped into place for Joethyr. Ausjim was right, of course — being a business major required confidence, charisma, and leadership skills more than anything else, and both Joethyr and Ausjim had that in spades. It certainly didn’t require studying or smarts, which was fortunate for Joethyr, as his brain was rapidly shrinking to match his meatheaded roommate’s. In fact, it was even smaller than Ausjim’s — he had scored highly enough in high school math that he was able to take an elective comms class for an easy A this semester, while Joethyr was being forced to struggle through calculus for a second time.

Records across campus rapidly rewrote themselves to reflect this new reality. Ausjim’s grades rose slightly, even as Joethyr’s GPA dropped from a 4.0 to a 2.0 — but whatever, C’s got degrees. In turn, the two roommates underwent their own changes. Joethyr’s unkempt hair retreated into his skull, leaving behind a slick fade. Moreover, the spark of intelligence retreated from his eyes, leaving them dark and hard. Ausjim’s hair experienced the opposite change, growing out into an impeccably groomed quiff that perfectly framed his face, neutralizing his unattractive Neanderthal features. His body hair also faded into nothingness, leaving him totally clean-shaven. The business classes he was taking had taught him the importance of presentation, after all.

“Yeah, bruh,” Joethyr agreed, now speaking in the same vacant timbre as Ausjim.

“Well, how do you boys spend your time then?” Mr. T.F. prompted. He was nearly at the bottom of his checklist — this far into the process, he didn’t even need to guide the roommates’ transformation. Their new personalities had largely subsumed who they used to be, and would be happy to fill the remaining gaps by themselves.

“Isn’t it obvious, bruh?” Ausjim said. “The gym — duh! Gotta get those gains!”

At his roommate’s proclamation, Joethy underwent a startling change. At last, his muscles ballooned all across his body until they were identical in size to Ausjim’s. No longer did he have to settle for merely toned — he was well and truly ripped. So dramatic was the change that his shirt was instantly torn apart, revealing his glorious pecs and washboard abs for the world to see. The Asian hunk subconsciously flexed as he thought about his answer to Mr. T.F.’s question, realizing something funny in the process.

“Hell, we probably even spend more time at the Chinese Student Union than class, right bruh?” Joethy nudged his equally jockish roommate.

The word “Chinese” resonated in Ausjin’s mind as he experienced sudden changes of his own. His lush hair was quickly thickening and inexorably staining itself midnight black. And as for the rest of his body, his lack of hair down there became much easier to maintain, as he naturally had less of it. Meanwhile, his facial features were shifting all at once — brow softening, nose broadening, eyes narrowing, lips plumpening. Eventually, they settled on what the rest of his body had already become — a carbon copy of his roommate.

“Yeah, bro, totally…”

At the word “bro,” the roommates’ final changes began. The physical refinements were over, but there was still work to do mentally. Ausjin’s brain was purged of the faces of his former family, their white features morphing into far more familiar Asian ones. Fond memories shifted as his mother’s famous meatloaf became her authentic dumpling recipe, and the destination of his childhood summer vacations was corrected from Europe to China. Through it all, he remained the dumb, popular jock he had always been. That was also true of Joethy, who could no longer remember being a lame, skinny nerd. Nights spent studying were replaced with nights spent partying, and members of an extensive social circle easily entered the parts of his brain that had never experienced true friendship. His memories of his family remained the same, however — with one key addition. The newcomer’s face was blurry, but the more that he focused on it, the more familiar it seemed. Almost like… his own face…? Or was it Ausjin’s face? That seemed closer, but…

By Joethy’s side, Ausjin found his memories haunted by an identical face. The two jocks sat there in dumbfounded silence, both trying to recall who it was that featured so prominently in their memories. What was his name? Not Joethy or Ausjin, but rather… rather…

“Joey! Austin!”

Joey and Austin Lee snapped back to attention, refocusing on their strange guest.

Mr. T.F. chuckled, putting his clipboard away. “You boys zoned out there for a sec! It’s okay, I’ll get out of your hair soon. I just have one last question for you — are you getting along as roommates?”

“Well, of course we’re getting along, bruh!” Austin exclaimed.

“We’re basically the same person already!” Joey finished his twin’s sentence with a pure, dull guffaw.

Because it was true. Joey and Austin Lee were clearly cut from the same cloth: The identical twin Asian jocks were both brainless, buff, bisexual business-major bros. The only appreciable difference between the twins was their hairstyles. Austin fancied himself a pretty boy, spending hours by the mirror meticulously maintaining his gelled hair. Joey, meanwhile, rocked a utilitarian crew cut, confident enough to put his angelic face on full display. But other than that, they were totally inseparable — everything they did, from working out to gaming to partying, they did together. (Rumor had it that they even fucked together, only bringing a lucky girl or guy home when he or she was willing to share.)

“Great to hear that! Thanks for participating in our Roommate Compatibility Survey, you two — although I don’t know what results we were expecting from twins like you… Anyway, have a great one!” As Mr. T.F. exited the room, he allowed himself one last glance back at the Lee twins as they mindlessly bantered. Both of them had certainly gotten their wishes. Joey was exactly like Austin, and Austin was exactly like Joey, and they were certainly each other’s bros — in both senses of the word. Another success for the Roommate Compatibility Program.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Mr. T.F., the Lee twins promptly forgot he had ever existed, returning to their existences as paragons of young Asian American masculinity.

“So, what’s the plan for today, bro?” Austin said. “Hit the gym, then hit the streets?”

Joey smirked, admiring himself and his twin in the mirror. “You know me so well, bro!”

#male transformation #male tf #racial change #race change #personality change #mental transformation #jock tf #twinning tf #broification #jockification #dumber tf #gay to bi #straight to bi

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year ago

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Insatiable (Part 1)

Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee

“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”

You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.

Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.

Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in.

Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”

Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.

You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”

You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.

“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”

“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.

“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak.

“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”

His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.

“How are you feeling, Leon?”

Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”

“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice.

You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman.

“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”

“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”

He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”

“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”

“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”

You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you.

“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”

“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk.

“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”

“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.

“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”

“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”

“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”

The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.

“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”

“Which is…?”

Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”

“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”

You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”

“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you.

You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.

“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.

You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”

How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?

But then you came, awakening something in him.

Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.

God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.

You came back to me, baby, where you belong…

“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder.

With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.

Curse these fucking chains…

“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.

“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.

He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”

Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”

His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.

You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him.

“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”

Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”

“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”

“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”

“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.

“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.” “I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”

“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.

“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”

Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.

You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.

“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.

You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.

“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”

Part 2

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #yandere!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #insatiable

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malereadermaniac · 9 months ago

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An Oni's Instinct ~ Alpha Itto x Omega Male Reader

Super happy with this one - hope you guys enjoy! word count: 2k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

When people look at Itto, most agree that he is pretty much a textbook definition of an Alpha

The Oni is tall, lean yet muscular, he's loud and overly confident; to sum up, the man is attractive

However, even as an Alpha, Itto is caring, he's not a very serious man, and he most definitely treats his Omega as a person

People are shocked to see you and Itto out and about as a happy, mated couple - mainly due to the shock factor of a man that looks like Itto treating you, an omega, with incredible amounts of respect

Itto worships the ground that you walk on, the Alpha is a gentleman - a slightly dumb and unserious one but a gentleman no less

The oni opens doors for you, holds heavy objects for you and teases you about it without belittling you like other Alpha's do

Itto takes care of you in many ways, not because he feels like he needs to, but because he wants to show his love for you

And that love transfers over to the bedroom as well

Itto is the perfect Alpha when it comes to helping you through heats

The silver-haired oni can smell the slight change in your pheromones when you go into pre-heat, and he immediately acts on it

The geo-user calls off anything he has that day and takes you home straight away despite your protests

An Oni's Instinct is never wrong, especially when it comes to his whiny Omega boyfriend

By the time Itto has you on your shared bed you've already started to feel the effects of his pheromones on you

The muscular oni gently undresses you, making you lay comfortably on the bed as your body starts to turn redish with your rising temperature

Your full heat hits you like a truck once you watch your handsome Alpha undress, his huge back and arms flexing as he throws his clothes into the corner of the room, his tall form looming over you once the oni crawls to hover over your smaller body

You can feel the pang in your gut, the heat in your stomach twisting into a painful knot as you start to leak precum and slick

Itto makes sure to release calming pheromones while verbally making you relax while he trims his sharp nails

"I know it hurts, babe but just wait a little longer... I don't wanna scratch your perfectly soft walls with my nails now do I?"

Once Itto's nails are finally dull enough as to not hurt you, the Alpha man-handles your heat-induced jellylegs onto his broad, muscular shoulders to open your entrance up to him

Itto takes a split second to admire your slightly gaping hole, your (pinkish/brownish) rim sopping in your slick

But the oni doesn't admire you for too long, your horny, desperate whines snapping him out of his horny daze

"Alpha... Ittooooo~ C'mon pleaseee" you moan out in a whiny tone

"Aye aye captain!" The white-haired oni says with a grin, looking into your eyes. Who was Itto to deny such a request?

The Alpha moves his mouth down to your hole, giving your entrance a hot lick with his abnormally long, Oni tongue

Itto wasting no time, shoving one of his long, lean fingers into your piping hot hole after getting his short but sweet fill of your slick

You writhe and moan from your Alpha's immediate attack on your prostate, his finger thrusting in and out of your hole, curling into your boiling hot walls from time to time

Itto loved watching as he fingered you, your dick twitching from his veiny fingers - he fucking loved watching his middle two fingers fuck into you as you subconsciously ride his veiny, lean digits

Once Itto has gotten a third finger inside of you, you were pushed to your first orgasm of the night, you came hard, your infertile cum covering your chest as your dick even manages to squirt some of your jizz onto your Alpha's hair

Your dick was twitching, but the knot in your gut had barely relaxed, your heat making your ass tighten as you beg Itto for more

So as to not keep his sweet Omega in pain for much longer, Itto lines up his absolutely massive hard on (that he'd been ignoring up until now) with your hole

He chuckled when your hole seemed to wink at him, your ass tightening around nothing out of desperation

It's common knowledge that all Alpha's are... well endowed - but because of Itto's oni genes, he had a fucking monster on him

Not only was your Alpha's dick huge, but he was veiny and his knot would literally lock him inside of you until it fully went down

Thankfully, due to your heat, your usually tight hole was loosened up and ready for your Alpha to wreck you

So in one fell swoop, with your waist in Itto's tight grip, the Oni pulls you onto his dick as he thrusts his hips forward until they collide with yours

Your tummy instantly bulges with an imprint of your Alpha's monster cock, your arms frantically gripping st the bed and pillows above your head as you moan your Alpha's name loudly and lewdly

Itto knows that when you're in heat, you prefer hard and fast - it gets rid of the tight and hot pain in your stomach when you feel a dick fucking into you at lightning speed

And so, your oni does just that, he holds one of your legs up on his shoulder and keeps his other veiny, manly hand on your waist, pulling you in time with his hips to meet his thrusts

As his dick drills into your prostate, Itto'a groaning and grunting in pleasure from.how warm and tight your walls are getting

Your pheromones are driving the man insane and his are doing the same to you

Once Itto bends down, bringing your knee to your head, your ass opens up even move, allowing the Alpha to fuck you even deeper and even harder

Itto kisses you gently, his way of showing his love in such animalistic moments

You let your moans fill the Oni's mouth while his long tongue plays with yours, and as you make out with your alpha, he moves his rough hand from your waist to your hard, smaller dick - his veiny hand able to cover your whole dick

Once Itto starts to jack you off to the pace of his rough thrusts, you cum again

You break the kiss you shared with Itto and gasp, that gasp quickly transforming into a loud, pornographic moan

Itto's face scrunched up from the overwhelming feeling of your clenching fuckhole, but he didn't shut is eyes in effort to watch your sexy face as you came

With your cum splattered on his rock-hard abs, Itto decides to swipe some onto his finger and taste your sweet, addictive, omegan cum

Like some kind if drug, your cum made Itto release more of his horny pheromones - resulting in the Alpha speeding his muscular hips up as he desperately wraps his muscular, veiny arms around you waist; lifting you up off of the bed

Your legs wrap around Itto's waist on Instinct and your arms loosely around your Alpha's neck

Itto was desperately moving you up and down on his huge, hard dick - his panting echoing in your ear like a heavenly choir, and the way the man looked at you with a flushed, sweaty face turned you on more than your heat ever could

As Itto fucked up into you harder and faster, you were beginning to get overwhelmed again - your heat making you desperate for another orgasm at the hands of your handsome, strong Alpha

Due to the speed of Itto's fucking, he started to lose his grip on you - as you started slipping from the Alpha's grip, you reflexively grabbed the nearest sturdy object

Unfortunately, or rather very fortunately for Itto, the nearest thing you instinctively grabbed were his horns - his extremely sensitive horns, which were an Oni's biggest, most effective erogenous zone

"HAAAAH! FUCK, (Y/N)!~" Itto shouts with a moan, stopping his thrusts abruptly as his whole face scrunched up from the shocking amount of pleasure

You can feel the oni's dick throb and twitch inside if you, his not evidently starting to swell - meaning your Alpha's orgasm was close

In your heat-rotted brain, you could only think of being filled with Itto's thick, fertile cum and his fat knot plugging you up

So you go ahead and push Itto's buttons some more, gently caressing one of your boyfriend's bright red horns while tightly gripping the other one

Itto whimpers and pants into your ear for a moment before tightening hid arms around your waist and starting to pound into you once more

Your dick slaps against your stomach as Itto fucks up into you at the speed of light - his fat dickhead pushing against your prostate so roughly that it almost winds you

Your moans mix with Itto's to form a harmony that turns the both of you on even more

Your play with your oni's horns more and more, listening to hid whimpers between grunts and moans, his face blushing more and his body sweating insane amounts of his Alpha musk

And with a few final tugs at your boyfriend's horns, Itto hugs you tight against his body as he shoves his whole dick and knot into you, keeping his dick snug between your warm, soft, and wet walls as he gently ruts his cock

You both moan as you reach your climaxes - Itto's hot, virile cum fulls your Omegan heat to the brim - making your inner Omega ecstatic.

You moan at the feeling if Itto filling you up with his dick, cum and most importantly his huge knot plugging you up

Your 3rd orgasm of the night hits you harder than the others, your legs unwrapping from Itto's waist and twitching uncontrollably from your orgasm

Your dick spurts small splashes of clear cum which coat your dick, chest and Itto's abs in your useless seed

Your grip on Itto's horns tightens as you pull the Alpha down for a passionate kiss - your pull on his horns making the Oni cum a second time immediately out of overstimulation

You sloppily makeout with Itto, his tongue dominating yours lazily as his tight grip on you doesn't loosen one bit

You can feel your tummy full of your Alpha's cock and cum, the bulge in your stomach slightly bigger from the Alpha's unreal amounts of cum

However Sticky and sweaty the two of you were, as well as incredibly overstimualted and hot, you two enjoyed the moment m, basking in the afterglow as Itto rubs his strong arm up and down your back

After managing to calm down (his knot, therefore, also going down) Itto pulls his dick out of you, his thick jizz pouring out of you like a leaking tap

The Alpha lies you down on your bed and immediately reverts back to his less horny, gentlemanly demeanor

Itto jokes with you as he cleans the two of you up - taking care with you as your heat is very much still in effect, his cum and knot merely subduing it for a few hours at most

After the two of you are cleaned up and cleaned out, Itto and you share the few moments you two remain awake cuddling and chatting

Itto had quickly informed Lady Yae that you won't be in for a week, and he's left Shinibu in charge until he's back

As you lull to sleep in your boyfriends warm, strong arms, Itto caresses your body softly while whispering sweet nothings to you

Each one of his sentences having at least one way of saying "I love you" in them

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tired-biscuit · 1 year ago

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18+ MDNI, fem!omega!reader/alpha!kiba // cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding. established relationship.

↳ you slip into heat at the worst time imaginable; right on kiba’s 30th birthday. as a result, nothing goes according to plan.

“ugh, i’m so sorry.”

you barely recognize the sound of your own voice as you listen to the quiet sigh your boyfriend lets out as soon as he wraps his strong arms around you from behind.

your bedroom is enveloped in darkness despite the fact that it’s summer — a particularly hot one this year — and the alarm clock on your nightstand shows that it’s barely a little past eight in the evening. it’s still light outside, the sky is clear and pretty, but the curtains that frame your window are drawn tight. the only source of light comes in the form of a single orange streak that seeps from the hallway through the crack in the door.

as of right now, it sits on the corner of your pillow that you’re resting your head on, unmoving. judging by the progressing hour, as well as the way faint warmth begins to tickle the top of your head at that very instant, you suppose it won’t take long until the ray settles on your already much too hot cheek as well.

nuzzling your face further into the cotton, crisp white bedding, you can’t help but let your eyes roll in evident dread at the realization. if your current situation is to be taken into any form of consideration, extra heat is the last thing you need right now.

kiba’s weight makes him sink deeper into the mattress when he readjusts on top of the bed you’d spent ages curled up in, trying to find solace all by yourself; that is until he’d shown up.

he had barely stepped foot inside your apartment when the scent of what was going on had hit him square in the face and had led him straight to you. granted, you’d vaguely texted him about it beforehand as to not make him worry too much, whilst also explaining why you couldn’t make it to his birthday dinner, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

and while he’d thought he could handle it as he sat in his car and drove over to your place instead of the restaurant where you were supposed to meet, he’s not so sure that can be the case anymore.

after all, you smell outright intoxicating. it’s so profound and intense, your scent. so sweet that it almost makes his teeth ache. but it’s not just the smell of you that coaxes him to slip into protector mode and start acting on instinct — though it is a key factor here. no, it’s the fact that every single aspect of you in that very moment is designed to lure an alpha like him right in. to lock him into mating.

always known to be a headstrong, self-assured kind of man; one with clear boundaries and a rare ability to make definite choices without any sort of trouble — oftentimes on a whim — kiba finds himself feeling perplexed for the first time in a long while.

to put it simply, he doesn’t know what to do. he’s got his girlfriend, a naked omega in heat, wrapped in his arms. he’s got the most raging boner that he’s ever had in his life twitching and throbbing in his pants, pressing so stubbornly against the zipper that it hurts like a motherfucker. he’s got a sudden wildfire overtaking his senses and fast-crumbling sanity.

but what he doesn’t have is consent.

every inhale he executes now, it’s like he’s turning into a brainless insect at best. you’re pure sugar, fruit dipped in honey, and every thought he has dissipates into nothing because of it. he’s ready to carelessly drown in the nectar if it means you’ll let him devour you whole.

will you, though?

god, never mind that for now; his pushy alpha brain cannot possibly bring itself to think about you refusing him at a crucial time like this. all that matters is that he shows you that he’s ready to help you out, to make it clear as day. your sudden heat has induced a rut from his side and it’s starting to give him a fever as the first signs of it step into the spotlight.

it’s all happening so fast, his pants are already feeling way too tight. there’s a blush creeping up his neck, tinting his ears and cheeks a bright red, and pre-cum is turning his underwear sticky. one second he was fine, albeit slightly worried for your wellbeing. now, he’s horny out of his fucking mind and his dick just won’t stop growing bigger.

so as a result, his shoes now lay discarded in the middle of your bedroom from the way he had hurried to get to you as soon as possible. his keys and phone had practically been tossed to the side on your nightstand, carelessly. the screen sometimes lights up with birthday wishes from friends and family, most of who you’ve already met, but neither of you cares about it in that moment. he’ll type his thank you’s in the morning.

you exhale a breath you’d forgotten you were holding when he brings you closer to his chest, embracing you until your limbs become entangled with his own longer ones and your naked spine touches the buttons of the fancy navy blue button up shirt you’d suggested he put on back when you’d still thought you could endure this entire ordeal that you’re currently suffering through.

his belt buckle is cold. it almost feels like a blessing when it presses against your sizzling hot skin.

“hey,” is all he says.

“oh, god,” you grit out in reply, practically heaving at this point. the amount of saliva that starts to gather on the flat of your tongue the moment your body senses he’s near is ungodly. it’s unnatural, the way you respond to him.

“i know,” he coos softly even if he doesn’t know; he can’t possibly know what it’s like to endure a thing like this. but he tries. “here, lemme… i gotcha, baby. shh.”

a strangled little sound leaves your lips when he holds you still and starts to scent you without even giving it a second thought. to the surprise of both of you, you comply without any sort of fuss as he drags his hands all over your stiff, naked body, effectively easing the overly tense muscle into something a bit more lax and bearable. you don’t even notice how hard you’d been clenching your jaw until he coaxes you into relaxing it with a couple of strokes from his fingers.

slipping into heat completely unprepared can be a pesky little thing for an organized, perfectionist omega like yourself. when you’re so used to leading an independent lifestyle in a society that certainly doesn’t lend you a helping hand with it, and indulge in endless persistance of being in complete control of your body at all times, the occasional flood of hormones that turns you embarrassingly docile is immensely unwelcomed as far as you’re concerned.

yes, blatantly aching to be bred by your alpha’s cock like you’re some bitch in heat is seen as embarrassing in your eyes even if that’s exactly what you are. you believe there’s a lot more to you than just rolling onto your back and acting submissive towards your more dominant partner, thus listening to that wretched primal part of your brain that’s taken center stage inside your skull for now, but at the same time…

it is just so unbelievably hard to fight instinct when he’s right there behind you, with his hips pressed so closely to your own. so hard to ignore and not burn at the way his touch turns noticeably more possessive over the span of a couple of moments of comforting strokes he otherwise gives to your body. so hard to dismiss the way your heartbeats align and your cores reach the exact same temperature.

he even smells invitingly delicious. the rut you’d unintentionally sent him spiralling into had changed the base of his scent in mere minutes. its only aim now is to make him as alluring as possible to you so that you will enable him to mate and reproduce. and he’s not even to blame.

aftershave riddles his otherwise signaturely musky scent; it softens the almost overbearing notes of pure alpha. when he raises his hand to stroke his fingers along your jaw for a second time around, you’re briefly present enough to also catch hints of coconut adorning his tan skin. it’s rich and summery, perfectly him.

he must have used the pricey shower gel you’d bought to surprise him for your anniversary a few months back, because he’s gotten all tidied up for date night that’s now definitely not going to happen because of your ‘condition’, or whatever you want to call it.

either way, it’s the fucking worst. to say that the entire thing is a bust would be an understatement. even the super secret birthday party that you’ve planned for ages had to be rescheduled because of the way how your skin feels like it’s being pulled too tight over your bones, the flames erupting.

i mean, slick is literally dripping out of your soaked pussy like you’re a fucking hose, goddammit. did you really think you’d be suitable for socializing in your current state?

part of it is your own fault, you suppose. ignoring the symptoms and the evident increase in your body temperature that’s been building up over the last few days because you had something to prove was a stupid idea. believing the fact that your sheer will and determination would be able to keep the worst of your heat at bay, without the usage of any sort of suppressants at least until the weekend had passed, had been an even stupider one.

and now you’re stuck paying the consequences.

“i’m sorry,” you feebly parrot the apology that you’re still slightly unsure about if you mean to give to him or yourself. perhaps it’s both. at this point, who knows?

there’s a beat of silence before he whispers, “you’re sorry for what?”

the rasp in his voice pulls you back from your troubled thoughts that just won’t stop whirling around one possible solution to this agony: dick.

have you really stooped so low?

fighting to at least keep your sanity if you can’t keep your pride, you try to focus whilst straining your ears. try to actually listen to him. despite speaking quietly, he sounds almost breathless. like he’s struggling to be in your presence, doing absolutely nothing about the problem at hand.

you should let him do something. better yet, you should let him in.

come on. be a good girl. a good little omega.

let him in.

“for, uh… mmh,” your brow furrows as you try to find the right words you’re looking for. fuck this stupid omega brain of yours, truly. “for ruining your birthday just like i’m ruining your pants right now; gosh, i dunno.”

heat sears your face at the thought of the milky white residue you’ve surely left coating his jeans in copious amounts. instead of keeping you in-check, the image of it only makes you all the more hot and bothered. god help you.

“it’s fine,” he assures you way too fast, swallowing thickly.

the action is audible. listening to it, you can imagine how his adam’s apple bobs with it. up and down, so subtle but just so attractive. his neck appears in your mind’s eye, that sweaty, muscular throat of his, with the vein protruding on the side and— stop it.

“i-it’s not fine! what part of this looks fine to you…?” you groan as you shake your head in disbelief. he’s so close, you just need him so badly. it makes you unable to think straight. “we had plans, for crying out loud!”

“we can take a raincheck.”

“but you’ve just entered your thirties!”

“so?”

“it’s an important number, is it not?”

“babe,” he says, chuckling at your nonsense. “i’ll be in my thirties for a long while. don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“but i’ve got an entire cake meant for like ten people minimum sitting in my fridge.”

“well, if that’s the case,” he mutters, grinning lazily, “i’ll try my hardest to eat the whole thing by the end of the weekend if it’ll make ya feel any better.”

you turn your head to glare at him. “you’re not helping with your silly little jokes, you know.”

he snickers at that and it makes your heart bounce. “oh, i know, all right.”

“it’s just,” you start, sighing. the bridge of your nose scrunches up in annoyance when yet another heatwave washes over you and you suppress the urge to mewl. “this entire thing is so frustrating.”

“mm. tell me ‘bout it,” he says before he runs his broad palm along the column of your neck. your collarbone. the underside of your breast and down your stomach, which trembles at the feeling of the rough callouses that adorn his fingerpads.

the touch only offers more oxygen to the already raging flames that are already licking your entire body. you can’t stifle the small whimper that leaves your lips in response to even more silvery strings of your arousal smearing over the dark denim of his pants almost immediately. it causes a muscle to flutter in his cheek as he looks down and watches how wetter you’re getting by the second.

you’re entirely naked, have gotten rid of your damp, slick-coated panties because your blood feels like it’s boiling under your skin and you just couldn’t handle the heat anymore. he’s completely dressed because he didn’t think you’d actually slip into one while he’s around.

no, he didn’t dare believe it, even if his keen sense of smell did allow him to catch a whiff of a particular kind of sweetness appearing in your scent a long while ago. didn’t dare consider it, even if it did start to invoke some kind of primal, almost aggressive urge to protect what’s his in him.

but the thing is: you aren’t even his to begin with — at least not yet, that is. you refuse to bear his mark, refuse to submit, refuse to be mated even if he’s expressed the wish himself once or twice by now.

so to be entirely fair, it’s no wonder kiba feels surprised to see you acting so disheveled and pliant for him like you are right now. unlike him, you’re always so collected, looking like you have your shit together no matter the situation that’s thrown in your direction. making it look like he’s the one relying on you, instead of you relying on him, despite the roles you both possess.

maybe that’s why he’s so into you. after all, he’s always been one to love a good challenge.

and you’re just that.

furthermore, you’ve become so good at keeping your cool around him that in the last year and a half of being in a relationship together, you’ve even managed to slip out of his grasp whenever the merest hint of your heat had started to come forward. taking suppressants and disappearing off the face of the earth whenever your scent had started gaining attention from nearby alphas, you’ve successfully avoided your boyfriend until the entire thing had passed and you were back to normal, leaving him yearning all the more to see that side of you once and for all.

and whilst we’re on the topic of yearning…

he’s about to go batshit crazy because of it.

“listen to me. i don’t care about the pants, i’ll wash ‘em. and my birthday isn’t ruined,” he mutters as he nuzzles his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “far from it, actually.”

silence hangs in the air for a little while before you finally whisper, “really?”

“really,” he answers in a heartbeat. it’s genuine.

he kisses your neck without warning then, making the nerves near your scent gland buzz with phantom electricity. it’s all warmth and grazing of sharp canines, and the way you arch your back so that you can push your ass further into his crotch in response makes both of your breaths shudder.

he grinds against you, and you react in the same way. drags his tongue along the sweetspot on your neck, and you reach back with your hand so that you can tug on his hair that he’s combed through a million times tonight just for you. you rock against each other like this for a long while, just dry humping, kissing, edging and listening to each other’s shaky breathing.

you’ve become outright slippery between your legs by now, it makes the rubbing of your thighs all the easier even if you want to die from shame because of how obviously horny and out of mind you’re acting during it. moaning and whining, you’re practically trembling by the time his fingers circle your puffy little clit. you feel your hole clenching around nothing in an instant; practically begging you to let him stuff it full already.

he applies steady pressure, the same kind he’s applied so many times before, but it feels different now. you’ve had sex plenty of times during the course of your relationship, even before it had been given an official date, but never during one of your heats. it changes everything. it’s an entirely new playfield that you have yet to explore.

truth be told, you’re shocked. you’ve known him for over two decades, have grown alongside him; drifting apart and reconnecting once or twice, perhaps even three times during your years spent in different high schools and universities, before you’d finally settled on remaining in each other’s lives for good.

you’re supposed to know every inch of both his body and soul by now, but the heat that’s plaguing your mind makes you see him in an entirely different light. it’s like you’re wearing rose-coloured spectacles. you’ve been in love with him before, now you’re obsessed. every breath you take makes the world spin right before your very eyes even though he has just become your world.

and that world slows down, now, all sound is drowned out by your rapid pulse that beats inside your ears as he quickens his touch on your almost painfully sensitive button of nerves. your cunt is so warm, soft, sticky. he can barely keep it together from how badly he wants to pound it already.

“k-kiba,” you stutter his name and suppress the urge to cringe at yourself. anger and overwhelming lust make your toes curl.

“look at how wet you are, pretty,” he utters softly, sounding so baffled and in awe by it at the same time that it’s almost funny. and sure enough, when he raises his hand from the apex of your thighs and holds it right in front of your face, his fingers are practically glimmering with your slick.

you’re quick to avert your eyes from the sight.

“well, you’re really fucking hard, okay?” you attempt to quip back but fail outrageously. it’s supposed to be a jab, your statement, but the high pitch that appears in your voice now exhibits pure, relentless need instead. even your hips are wiggling by their own accord and you hate yourself for allowing it, but you just can’t help it. it’s all instinct.

“fuck yeah i am. i mean, how couldn’t i be hard when you—” he grunts mid-sentence and you swear there’s a certain kind of edge to it; like a growl that thunders somewhere deep within his chest. every exhale tickles your throat as he pants — it cools the sweat that sticks to your skin in a layer so thick that it makes you shiver. “when you smell so fuckin’ good; so sweet?”

your scents meld as you writhe against each other, it makes you tip your head back and gasp from how good it is to inhale into your lungs. at this point, your brain is screaming at you to let him in, to let him do whatever he wants if it means he’ll stuff you full and knock you up by the end of it.

you can’t take it anymore.

you want, no, you need to feel the heated stretch of your alpha’s cock. need to be mounted. to be turned over then so that you can look at his face as he manhandles you into the tightest mating press known to man, and to feel his sharp teeth at long last sink into the sensitive scent gland on your neck, marking you as his before he lets you do the same to him. to let him use you as his cocksleeve the moment you become his mate, his hands gripping your hips so hard during every thrust that you’re bruising at the curves, but it just feels too good to notice the pain to accompany it.

you want your sloppy cunt squelching and gushing slick around him until he can feel his balls tighten and he cums and spills his load so deep into you that it goes straight to your goddamn womb. want to watch him keep every single drop from spilling with the help of his knot that you want him to push into you at some point, too. want his sweaty forehead pressing against your own as he fucking plugs you and sucks in deep, ragged breaths, whispering how he’s just put so many pups inside you that you’ll have to start thinking about moving house.

and afterwards, you want soft, warm kisses instead of messy, sloppy ones. you want the faintest taste of your blood on his tongue intermingling with his own iron. want him looking so big as he holds himself steady above you; your legs still wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. want him calling you his mate for the first time ever because he’s finally able to do so. and well… you want yourself whispering the same.

you want all of that.

“kiba, i need you to take care of me,” you whisper, turning around to face him. your body is aching for him by now, the scent and closeness only make your desire worsen. you’re turning light-headed with want and it makes you wrap your twitchy hands around his bicep and tug on his sleeve as you try to pull him forward so that he can top you as soon as possible. you’re clinging onto him for dear life, throwing yourself at him even if you’d said you’d never. “need you to make me yours, ‘kay? right here, right now. please.”

“yeah,” he mumbles, clearly dazed. his body moves so quick, it’s pure thrill. “yeah, of course, baby. anything you want.”

poor man, he’s been waiting for all this time just to hear you say the words.

the quiet clink of his belt buckle becoming undone causes a shiver to rush down your spine. it sends you into a frenzy.

“please. oh, god, please, please,” you repeat your pleas, choking back a sob as he pushes you onto your stomach. the weight of him that settles above you is so comforting, it only causes more hot tears to well up inside your eyes. “it hurts so bad, it feels like i’m fucking dying.”

“i’m here,” he says, and his touch feels like you’re being stroked with embers when he grips you by the hips and makes you push your ass higher into the air. he can’t control the strength he possesses anymore, the manhandling has already begun even if he’s trying so hard to remain gentle. “i’ll take care of ya. i promise, sweetheart.”

who would have thought he’d get a mate for his birthday?

#a bit late but oh well!!#in honor of the birthday boy #kiba smut #kiba x reader #naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #cw omegaverse #cw knotting #cw breeding

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