#and otherwise keep our fucking noses out

[lookninjas]

2117.

of anyone least qualified to have any opinion certainly us and of any place to have the damn discussion fucking Facebook?

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[starogeorgina]

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲

The king's queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader × Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut, incest

Lewd moans fall from your mouth, and your fingers pull roughly on Criston’s thick, dark hair, encouraging him to keep going. His mouth is glued to your clit while he scissors two fingers inside your cunny.

���I’m going to— fuck!” You slump back further into the dark green chair. You look down at Criston as he withdraws his fingers from you, then swipes his tongue between your folds, then back to your clit. “Gods, Criston!”

Aegon could spend days fucking you, filling you with his seed over and over again. From the moment you even utter a word about having another babe he practically locks the two of you in your shared bedchamber until he’s convinced his seed has been taken. The same fiery dragon's blood runs through your veins, and you have an insatiable appetite for being intimate; however, even your husband knows when to switch things up. Criston did not. The king's hand would keep his head buried between your thighs until instructed otherwise.

“Cole,” Aegon leans over the top of the chair, his hot breath smelling of wine. Creeping his hands lower, he smirks and pinches your nipples. “Wife, I trust you are fully satisfied.”

You arch back, and when Criston’s nose brushes against your clit, he thrusts his tongue deeper inside you. “Yes, Ser Criston has been keeping me happy while we waited for you to return.”

"Well, I’m back now,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Cole, we shall take—“

“No, don’t stop!” You are so close to the edge that your fingers scrape along the wooden arms of the chair. “Ser Criston, your queen demands you keep going.”

Aegon tuts, “greedy.”

“I am not,” you say, holding Criston’s head in place when he touches the spot that makes your toes curl. “Besides, it’s not my fault. He does such a good job of pleasing me, I cannot get enough.”

Hearing your praise, Criston speeds up his action, causing moans of pleasure to escape your mouth. Amused, Aegon shakes his head. He lightly grips your throat with his large hand; he applies enough pressure to give you a thrill but not hard enough to restrict your breathing.

“Cole is greedy for your cunt, and you, dear wife, are just greedy to feel pleasure.”

“And?”

Aegon inhales sharply, and his gaze moves to your breasts, which are teetering on spilling from your silk nightdress. Your fingers are the laces in his breeches. “Are you feeling left out, my king? Do you desire some attention?”

He tilts his head back and groans when you wrap your hand around his hard cock, smearing the oozing cum on his tip with your thumb. With your free hand, you yank your nightgown down at the front, and Aegon gropes at them.

“Gods,” you squeal when your legs begin to shake. Your thighs close over, locking Criston in place as he devours you with his mouth like a man starved. “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

A combination of you stroking his cock and watching you come undone, Aegon spills his seed across your breast. After regaining his composure, he laughs and strokes sweat-covered hair out of your face. “I shall have the servants set up the bathing chamber for us. What say you, Cole? Care to join me in bathing our queen?”

Criston finally pulls his mouth away from you, his lips swollen and the lower part of his beautiful face glistening with your arousal. He nods, “Yes, my king.”

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 3 of the roommate idea

Steve declines the hellfire invitation from Dustin, making up a pretend date, because otherwise he was not getting out of that one. He checked the time on the wall.

2:27

Yeah, alright.

He waited a few hours before getting ready and heading to the school.

The game starts in thirty minutes so they should be-

Steve grinned as he watched the back of Dustin move into the drama room.

Perfect.

He waited a minute, listening into their conversation before deciding that he didn't need to wait for them to stop because if they stopped that meant they were starting.

He slammed open the clubs door, making a couple people in the room jump.

“Steve! What are you doing here?" Eddie asked from his place on the throne. "DnDs over, pack up your shit.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

Well, apparently a little room.

“What!! Why?! Last campaign of the semester, Mike leaves for Cali tomorrow!"

Steve furrowed his brows, and put his hands on his hips, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff weren't arguing, they knew he was serious, good.

“It can wait till he gets back, why would you even plan this a day before he leaves?”

“Why do we need to pack our shit?!”

Steve pinched his nose, "We're going to Luca’s basketball game.”

“What?!?”

“That traitor-"

“Stevie, darling, you can't be-”

“Why?!”

“You two know each other-”

Steve grimaced, a migraine starting at the fore-front of his mind.

“Please shut up, Christ.”

Eddie winced and immediately shushed everyone.

“We're going to this game, because even if Lucas doesn't get to play, we still gotta support him. Dustin, Mike, you guys have only gone to one of his games, his first one.”

He turned the other group, "Grant, Gareth, Jeff, fuck Eddie. None of you have gone to a game, I know it's not your usual shit but you gotta come. Hell, Erica, you're his sister, I mean, you’ve done an amazing job at showing up at the rest, so I can’t really complain about you.”

Dustin winced, “ Sorry Steve, but why does this matter so much to you? It's not the end of the world.”

Steve rubbed his arm, “ He needs someone to be there for him, even if he doesn't win. You can just do the damn campaign at Eddie's when Mike comes back.”

Mike, in question, scoffs, “And since when do you make the rules.”

Steve ignores him, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie's arm, and Erica’s shoulder. "Suit yourselves, but kinda hard to play DnD without the Dungeon Master, and Eddie and Erica don't have a choice.”

They make their way to the gym, a reluctant group of Hellfire in tow, and sit across the top of the bleachers. Steve waves at Robin from where he sits and then turns to Hellfire. “ Thank you guys for being reasonable."

Gareth scrunches his nose, “You cannot just keep stealing Eddie randomly.” Steve purses his lips, and leans into the man in question.

"Not stealing if he's okay with it, right Eds?” Eddie looked between the two, “ I'm sensing I should say yes?"

Steve grinned and patted his cheek. “Good boy."

Dustin turned to them, "Was Eddie the date you were talking about earlier? You tell seem awfully friendly."

Eddie flushed, and let's out an awkward laugh. " Steve wishes he could date me."

[notiddygothgf]

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away. 

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back. 

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji. 

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act. 

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m  sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

��You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 

You broke the silence after a minute or two. 

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

[yanderenightmare]

Thinking about Alpha Bakugou using the internet to find out how to calm down his terrified little omega darling during mating <3

I love this idea!!! Because you just know he stumbles upon the worst most subjugating blog post, written by the most pompous Alpha-dirtbag out there – degrading Omegas, talking down about them as though they’re but silly childish things in dire need of an Alpha’s help. 

And you know Bakugou’s egocentric enough to eat all that self-serving shit right up like it's gospel.

BNHA ! FIC

Alpha ! Bakugou Katsuki x Omega ! darling

WC: 3.2

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, omegaverse, yandere, marking/biting, blood, subjugation + a little angst in the end

Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

Step 1. Step one is simple: Talk Remember, Omegas, though a little wild and chaotic, are equally influential, sensitive, and weak to not only an Alpha's orders but our compliments, confessions, and encouragement as well. Just a few simple sweet nothings can warm an Omega’s core even when confused and stressed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, puppy~” Katsuki made sure to mouth against your neck while sucking the skin full of blooming bruises.

His large warm hands, kept like a belt around your waist, messaged the soft skin with restraint – having slipped beneath your top to feel you directly. His back hunched and hips fighting to keep from humping – feeling his mouth water and the growing bump in his pants start to ache – getting drunk with all the right overwhelming instincts, sniffing until his nose stuffed full of that sweet Omega scent.

He’s always known what you are. Way before your scores ever confirmed it. He’s been able to smell it off you ever since you grew tits – and been able to tell long before that simply by the way you scurry around with those big puppy-dog eyes of yours. 

The ones you’re looking up at him with right now.

“Katsuki…” You whined, and he grunted – head too hot to formulate any other response – only getting rowdier the more he lapped at the sheen of sweat coating your flesh.

It’s always been obvious that the two of you would wind up as mates – you’ve been imprinting on each other since you were both in diapers.

Even so, he hasn’t found making you trust and accept him easy over the years.

You’ve always regarded him with that very Omega-like uneasiness – looking up at him through your lashes with your shy fluttering eyes – a little pout on your lips and a little hitch in your breath each time he makes a move.

You’re too cute like that. Making him so fucking horny.

“Katsuki?” You whined again – this time more urgently, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Giving a reluctant groan, he smacked off your neck for only a second – huffing out a rushed “Yeah?” before returning to your neck. Working the skin – making it warm and numb to take his bite.

“Can we- can we wait?” You managed to force through the anxiety making your throat snug under the threat of his canines – a mix of pleading and shame evident in your meek voice where you felt smothered beneath the mass of him.

“Wait?” He questioned with a small laugh, though otherwise ignoring you – his lips still mouthing your neck and cheek with damp hot breaths – greedy hands climbing further up under your shirt, high enough to start playing with the lace of your bra.

“Just a little while?” You urged. “Please, Katsuki? Just a couple days?” Lip quivering and brows knotted as you tugged on his shirt, trying for his attention.

He pulled off your neck yet again, this time with an audibly annoyed groan – his red eyes soaked with hunger and focus. “Why?” He asked, visibly trying his own best to consider your concern, albeit begrudgingly where his hair had become sweaty in the wait.

“I'm not ready… can we please wait?” You begged, your big doe-eyes wet with the beginning of tears, searching for any ounce of pity he had to spare – doubtful but hoping he would listen.

You’re a little silly sometimes, he thought. What do you think he’s been doing all this time except wait?

He tsked, looking at your cute face torn with timidity and nerves – thinking silliness couldn’t be helped. 

You’re an Omega, after all. 

He gave your pout a kiss of assurance but otherwise offered little other comfort – hoping the small effort would be enough to calm you. “You’re ready, puppy. Believe me.” He encouraged, once again slipping down to your neck – thinking if he found your soft spot, he could lick all your uncertainty away and unlock that domestic spirit he knew lived inside you.

But you weren’t so easily soothed – no longer just reluctant but protesting now. “No- please, Katsuki-” You insisted – your hands raising to pull on his shirt, even when knowing full well what little it would do.

“Puppy~ you couldn’t be more ready.” He insisted, trying to keep his voice soft and comforting. Gently prying your hands from his shirt and lifting them above you. “You just need to trust me.”

“No, no, no, please, please, please wait- Katsuki, please.” You shook your head with a sniffle, eyes squeezing shut with teeth sinking into your lip – trying hard to keep from sobbing even as your voice wobbled in the hysterics. “Just a couple of days- please?”

Katsuki started feeling defeated in his tactics, looking over your face twisting with panic and dread, hearing you beg while feeling the fight in your fists grow more adamant, trying to pry themselves out of his hold. 

It was time to give up on step one and move on.

Step 2. This step is for when the first step doesn’t work: Tie your Omega up It might sound harsh, but it’s actually in everyone’s favor. Tying up your Omega benefits and prevents a lot of uncomfortable situations during mating. For example, they won’t be able to scratch and claw, and you won’t have to use your strength and potentially hurt them when trying to calm them down. If your Omega is especially wild, it might be a good idea to gag them as well in order to keep them from biting back.

He didn’t want to have to do it this way, Katsuki told himself. He wanted you to accept it as a yielding Omega should – and where he had expected you to be a little anxious, he certainly hadn’t thought you’d be so brazen as to fight him on it.

But he guessed it couldn’t have been helped, pulling the cotton rope he’d kept ready in his pant pocket – bringing it up to the small hands he had pinned to the pillow right above your head.

“I’m sorry, puppy. I have to do this.” He mumbled, starting to loop the soft thread around your conjoined wrists while holding them down. 

“What- no-” Your eyes peeled open from withholding tears, growing wide when looking above you. “No, Katsuki- please don’t tie me up.” You started then, now with salted streams running freely down your cheeks. “Please- I’ll be good, I promise-”

“Sh-sh-sh, puppy-” He soothed, placing his lips on your forehead, tying one secure cross-knot after the other before fastening them to the bedpost in a neat bow. “It’ll hurt either way. This is so it doesn’t hurt more than it has to.” 

He tried reasoning with you, but you wouldn’t listen – further spiraling into a complete panic with endless prayers rushing past your sorry lips. “Please untie me, Katsuki, please- please don’t do this- please-”

“It’s for your own good, puppy.” He dismissed – holding your face in both hands in an attempt to try and keep you from shaking.

“No- please, don’t do this-” You sobbed in spite of his efforts.

And in the failure of trying to lull you, he really didn’t know of any better way than what he said next. “If you keep screaming, I’ll have to gag you as well.”

And you went still.

And he realized a little too late how he’d growled it threateningly like a bark – left to watch how your pout quivered silently after – your twitchy button-nose and watery red eyes such a terrible twist to his heart where you looked so undeniably pained and betrayed whilst terribly pitiful whimpers left you, sniffling and hiccupping with hitched breaths escaping you in trembles.

He tried comforting you with yet another kiss to your forehead, maintaining the smoothness of his tone so as not to further scare or upset you. “I didn’t wanna have to do it this way…” He mumbled softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek in hopes you would nuzzle into his palm, but only succeeding in smearing tears. “But you’re not really leaving me much choice here, puppy...”

Step 3.  Keep eye contact Omegas are a neurotic and forgetful breed. Keeping eye contact will help them stay calm, especially when you’re trying to soothe them. For example, assuring them that you’re not going to hurt them. Additionally, explaining why and what you’re doing can help an Omega understand and therefore ease their worry.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” He vowed, keeping your face cupped in one hand while letting the other fall back down to grip your waist, feeling your breath quicken beneath it while watching the anxiety widen your eyes even further. “Look at me, puppy.” He distracted, fishing your gaze up from looking down at the threatening tent in his pants. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

You tried finding solace in his words but didn’t find it much comforting upon the sight of his fangs – reminded of how he was going to sink them inch-deep into your neck.

“I’m not ready-” You repeated once like before, eyes swirling while looking deeply into his, trying to latch onto anything that might take pity enough to listen to you.

But it didn’t seem like any amount of your pleading words or teary trembling features was enough to reach him. “It’s okay, puppy~ I’ll help you get ready~” Is what he answered instead – nose nuzzling against yours in his own attempt at convincing you. “I’m gonna make you feel really good…”

You weren’t swayed, feeling ignored and suffocated and overwhelmed because of it. “But-” You tried again, only to once again get cut off.

“Shh- stop thinking so much.” He shushed you, still with his thumb rubbing gently over your cheek. “Listen to me, puppy. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?” 

The question was left hanging without an answer for a moment longer than what he was comfortable with – his brows furrowing at the way your eyes skittered to avoid contact with his – feeling something twist in his chest at how you shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

“Right?” He repeated a beat later, his red eyes big and searching while vying for your gaze – gutted when you looked further away to escape it.

The quiet that followed felt strangling, and he had to swallow thickly to prevent choking on it. 

He thought you trusted him more, but your silence spoke loudly. Suddenly he felt like what he was doing was something much worse than what it was… 

He’s only doing this to help you, but you’re treating it like he’s committing a callous crime.

He knows he’s not always been the best mating material, but he’d thought you’d seen the change in him the last year.

But… you’re still terrified of him, aren’t you?

He exhaled a breath he’d been holding and resumed the normal pace. “I love you, puppy.” Once again, he brushed the well of tears forming beneath your eyes away with the stroke of his thumb – as the other hand continued its path, now moving downwards, over your skirt, until brushing your naked and trembling thigh. “You know that.” He spoke in a tone devoid of brass, simply tender yet hot, brushing your lips with his. “I’ve always loved you.”

You made unsure sounds but kept any words to yourself – unable to deny how his confessions made your cheeks heat, yet still left feeling dubious – lashes fluttering upon downcast eyes, feeling the rough fissures of his warm fingertips brush upwards, hiking your skirt up in its path until fingering the dainty lace of your panty line.

“All I want is to keep you safe.” He murmured, now in a damp whisper smeared wet against your neck, where he returned like before, kissing the same spot while searching for the place that would make you weak. “I’d never hurt you…” 

His finger curled around the lace kept at your hip, and your fingers curled into your palms – knuckles whitening and joints aching in your trembling fists when he began pulling the dainty article down your thigh.

“But-” You couldn’t help but plead, feeling the air ride under your skirt to lick your exposed private – but the protest was left unvoiced as the hand kept on your cheek locked over your mouth instead.

“Shh-” Katsuki continued, his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth lathering your neck with growing desperation – a breathy growl in his voice now as the hand kept between your legs grew clammy from the heat. “No more buts and don’ts. No more silly fears.” He swallowed thickly to keep from drooling, sucking in a breath. “I promise, puppy, you’ll feel a lot better after letting me do this.”

Step 4.  Next to last: Put yourself in your Omega’s shoes It’s important to remember that Omegas feel things differently than Alphas. While we smell sweet and fertile Omega pheromones, they smell threatening Alpha pheromones. Moreover, being smaller and weaker than your mate can't be easy. It’s natural for them to feel scared and hopeless. And as an Alpha, it’s your responsibility to ensure your Omega feels safe, protected, and taken care of.

Your whimpers buzzed against his palm as he cupped your sex with the other, his thick fingers stroking the tender puff of pussylips there, feeling the softness with curiosity.

“I know, puppy.” He soothed in a strained whisper. “You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re tired.” His breath getting heavy when delving between the folds to feel the wet heat there, needing to bite his tongue to keep from growling out a curse. “It must be exhausting being on alert every day… acting like something you’re not.”

You trembled, tasting the salt of his hand on your tongue where muffled cries failed to reach him – thighs quaking around the thick arm prying them apart – breaths erratic, feeling his fingers touch and explore and play in the slick found there.

“I wanna help you, puppy…” He insisted – but the smirk inching up his face wasn’t convincing, nor the way you felt it graze your throat like a knife. “I’ll make you feel so soft and safe- I promise, puppy.”

Step 5. Finally: Find the soft spot and bite it Keep in mind that you’re not saving or helping anyone by not claiming your Omega. Despite how much they might be crying or begging you to stop, marking them will only help them in the end.

Panic made you feel inclined to bite the hand smothering you and kick the weight which had you trapped – but something more instinctual made your body burst open like a blooming flower as his lips finally found that terribly delicate spot, the one hidden just beneath your ear.

You gave a moan and felt everything unknot, smoothing out into something numb and mellow – into something which welcomed his mouth and the promise of teeth within it.

“There you go, puppy~” He hummed, feeling you go slack and cuddly, turning into something even softer beneath him. “Just like I promised~”

He lifted his hand from your mouth, watching you pant in heat – having turned into something all too vulnerable – eyebrows cinched, and spit-slicked lips parted with soft moans while his fingers swept through your slit, rubbing circles into your budding clit – making your hips timidly buck back in chase of the pleasure. 

“We’re gonna be perfect, puppy~” He purred, mouth still hooked onto that same spot that had you feeling all manors of fluffy – while his own hips stuttered in restraint as his other hand dove down alongside the other in order to unzip his own pants. “No more pills and suppressants- no more holding back-”

He tugged himself free, pushing his pants and boxer down to where he knelt – letting loose a long hefty sigh of relief against your neck while stroking himself against your cunt. Exchanging hands to rub himself with your wetness – breath stuttering with a groan – getting ready to enter you while his teeth sharpened for blood.

“Every time you get you’re little bellyache, I’ll breed you good and full…”

He pressed inside you in the same moment his teeth bit into your neck – swiftly, yet slowing, sinking in as deep as possible with ears too hot to hear you scream.

Large paws squeezed even tighter into plush handfuls of flesh, drawing claws at the blinding taste of blood rushing out of freshly split skin, pouring into his receiving mouth where a full eclipse occurred in his mind, making him go fully feral.

Benefits of the bite:  - their ruts/heats won’t affect anyone other than you (meaning they’ll permanently stop being a target to other Alphas) - moreover, regarding ruts/heats, they’ll feel grateful for having someone they can always trust to help them at that vulnerable time of the month - they’ll become more domestic, feeling safer and happier for it - and because of the above, they’ll be less prone to stress and fear (all of which will improve their mental health) - additionally, the newfound sense of safety and loyalty will indict maternal instincts (making them more joyed over the idea of having pups) - furthermore, having pups will give them a sense of purpose and drive (allowing them to finally feel complete)

His senses came back to him slowly as the wild rush of blood died down – leaving him cold – feeling your limp body lay weak in his arms – barely breathing – if one could at all call it such and not whispy whimpers which left you at the labored rise and fall of your withering chest.

The blood was everywhere.

Sticky on his face and chest and hands, and redder than he could’ve imagined – coated thickly on your skin – gushing in wild flows from the gaping wound he’d ripped open on your neck.

He'd lost control.

His breath shuddered, dry in his throat – which croaked when he tried opening his mouth. “You’ll be okay, puppy-” His hands shook – speaking as if trying to convince himself more than you – unsure if you could even hear him. “It’ll be okay-” 

Tired eyes seemed too heavy to stay open, with a glazed gaze that stared straight passed him – vision spotted and darkening quickly, fuzzy and just too slipping to hold onto.

You could only hum weakly as everything became blanketed – his voice giving way to an echo of unstable curse words and muted utterings of your name – soon to become simple shapeless sounds in the lulling void that enveloped your mind.

With every sense laying to rest, a sudden foreign warmth coaxed you to give in – to let yourself be smothered in something which felt akin to sleep yet seemed somewhat heavier – luring you away from the blurring sight of red eyes and red-stained skin and into the quiet comfort of dreamy drowning darkness.

tip-jar: Kofi

[jadeddangel]

Creepypast & Marble Hornets headcannons:

Jeff the Killer:

100% sneaks into your house/ room just to wake you up randomly to spook you

If he ever took you on a date it would 100% be to the cheapest cinema in town cause my man's is broke

Your the breadwinner, you can make $2 a month and still be the breadwinner

He buys axe body spray and sags his jeans like a middle school boy and you can't convince me otherwise

Opened a nesquick Powdered milk tub with a table saw cause he couldn't get him open

Doesn't know how to undo child proof locks on meds no matter how many times you explain it to him

"No Jeff your not listening. Press down and then turn it," your voice scolded

"I'm trying! Damn you woman!!" Jeff yelled back

Yea, he never opened the jar right

Masky:

It started with you and Tim dating and then when you met masky you trying getting to know him

He ignores you at first, more focused on doing his job then dealing with his other half's lover

He's smart, he'll pick locks open jars and complete puzzles in no time flat

He doesn't make money but Tim does so indirectly he's the breadwinner

He'll start hanging out with you after getting tired of sleeping on the downstairs couch

He's not nice, like at all, he's very blunt and when it comes to any type of criticism, constructive or not, he's pointing out every miniscule flaw

Don't bother lying to him, he can see right through it and it pisses him off

It doesn't matter your gender or your sex. He's turning around when you change any form of your clothes. He's big on privacy

"Masky? C'mon masky, it's just a sweater you don't have to turn. I'm wearing a shirt underneath, " you sighed, pulling your sweater off

Masky shook his head. "I don't care sometimes you don't wear a shirt under them, and i don't wanna see your nipples," masky spoke bluntly

Yeaaaa, if you can't tell your sex life is totally (not) amazing with man

Tim:

As I said before Tim has a job, he Linda needs it to pay for his smoking habits

Speaking of smoking, he hates when you do any kind of drugs, he doesn't want you to end up like he did

He's surprising clingy behind closed doors and really likes being your little spoon

He constantly takes showers and cleans your shared home, even if no one except for you, him and masky will see it.

He has this bad habit of just buying whatever he craves, so when he goes to the store, expect the bill to be rather high

As I said before he's clingy behind closed doors but when it comes to pda the most he'll do is lock your pinkies together

"Tim, pleaseeeee I just wanna hold your hand! Just five minutes, and if you don't like it, you don't have to keep holding my hand. " You tried to bargain

Tim sighed "fine fine but you're giving me your box of cigarettes. Don't think I didn't smell them on you"

He has a sharp nose, so there's no point in trying to hide things from him

Hoodie:

Hoodie was beyond confused when he first met you, he had a whole "who what when where why?" Moment

You and brain both pay for everything so there's not really a breadwinner

Hoodie is rather quiet, it's not because he's awkward or shy, he just has nothing to say

Hoodie Hates coffee, he's more of a tea or energy drink guy

I hate to say this(no I dont), but he's a stoner, he hates all vape or smoking products except for weed

He usually sticks to weed vapes since it's less work and he can be a bit lazy when it comes to that

I mean his hygiene is ok he doesn't really shave or trim any thing but his beard but yknow he do him

Speaking of , he leaves his beard shavings all over the sink and leaves the toilet seat up

"HOODIE! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE NOW" You shouted to get the man's attention

Hoodie walked in. "What?" He said monotonely

You pointed at the sink and then the toilet "pick up your fucking mess!!"

Hoodie shook his head "Nah I'm good. Thanks for the offer, though. "

You would probably try and beat him up if he couldn't just wollop our ass

Brian:

He's such a sweet boy,it like he's made out of cotton candy

He's mostly did cleaning and cooking on top of his job but after switching back from hoodie, he's out of commission for like a week

He picks up after himself, and does his own laundry and there's never beard trimmings in the sink

He occasionally forgets to put the toilet seat down but it's rather rare

He's not too clingy but he does cuddle up sometimes

HES A FUCKING FURNACE WHEN HE SLEEPS

"Brian pleaseee get off!! It's the middle of summer! It's too hot to be cuddling" you huffed sleepily

"Shhh just let me hold you.." Brian muttered

Ticci Toby:

Your the breadwinner. Period

You think this man has a job? Hah funny

He hates when he tics especially when you are trying to have intimate moments together

You guys have to be silly during sex especially when he has a verbal tic and just yells bird

"Fuck toby right there~" you moaned out holding onto his shoulders tightly

"I'm so c-*whistles* shit sorry~" toby moaned out a bit embarrassed

"Toby it's ok it's normal~.." you muttered a bit trying to keep your voice even

Toby nodded "fuck I lov-Birds!" Toby shouted

You both looked at eachother before bursting out laughing just holding eachother close

Overall aside from Toby's horrible moodswings at times and his "work" you guys have a pretty helpful relationship

Slenderman:

No, Just no

This man is toxic asf when you guys first meet, definitely a manipulator

He tones it down after a bit but still gaslights you into getting what he wants

When he gets angry, please down run from him- he will track you down and may or may not resort to physical violence to get you to learn your lesson

If you ask about the missing children he WILL gaslight you into thinking that's he's told you before and it hurts that you forgot and won't tell you again

Sex? What sex? You think he would let you even get close enought to see that shit happen hah very funny

"Slenderman? Cmon I'm sorry you know I didn't mean to hurt you.." you muttered softly

"No. I already told you, and you forgot.. it is insensitive of you and unwise of me to tell you again, " he responded through your mind. And though he doesn't have eyes, you could only assume he was glaring

He's not healthy for you, but you've got yourself into this for life and there's only 1 way to get out

Eyeless jack:

Just like Jeff he'll sneak into your room

You literally can't get rid of him

He won't talk or anything, just stand and stares

He doesn't cuddle and he barely touches you

He definitely tried to offer you a kidney as a way of telling you he appreciates you

No hygiene whatsoever, he doesn't shave and it takes a month before you even get him to shower

He mostly just grumbles and groans to let you know he understands what your saying

He's really smart, puzzles, locks ,and riddles are no match for him

He's blunt, when he does talk it's rare, bit it's honest and unfiltered

You guys barely have sex and honestly you've probably never seen his face

"Jack, please!! I just wanna see your face, " you whined, laying yourself over his lap

"I said no, and if you keep asking, I'll eat you. Literally, " Jack retorted

Yeaaaa he meant it literally and you could tell

[jellyfishsthings]

Request: Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Plot: Remus and reader studying together while she sits on his lap, but she realizes she wants him and grinds on him while he tries to work

WARNINGS: smut, shy insecure Reader, Remus helping in his unique way ....

I changed the plot a little bit ...

The soft sound of the needle scratching the vinyl filled the room. All the songs have come to an end and Remus and I didn't even notice we had been too engrossed in our studies. Or more likely he was and I was simply staring at him. He was scrunching up his nose and poking his tongue out every time he tried to understand something. He seemed good and happy. That was when you decided to attack him. You quickly climbed over him and straddled his lap, before placing kisses on his neck.

For god’s sake, he thought. You looked so beautiful taking charge of him and making him writhe like this. This wasn't something that he would usually indulge in but if it meant that you would kiss him senseless and drive the breath clean out of him he was all in. You didn’t usually climb on top of your boyfriend to attack him with senseless kisses of your own accord, usually, it was the opposite. It was a magnificent change for him, one he welcomed with open arms.

“Whoa,” Remus took a sharp breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bucked your hips against him. “Dove, may I ask what …. what brought this—ah—on?”

“No, not really” you muttered against his collarbones as you grabbed his loosened tie to crush your lips to his. You knew that your newfound confidence and control wouldn't last long, Remus would quickly seek a way to turn things around.

“You’re going to be the death— of me.” Remus stuttered, feeling sweat lining all over his body. you were a vixen under the guise of a proper girl. He supposed he already knew that but tonight drove the fact home. If he were, to be honest, to be honest, he liked you this way better. Your sailor's mouth and timid confidence were facts about you that he only seemed to know. He felt powerful that way because he could keep you from the world.

He was a mess of swollen lips, heavily panting under your hands. And Godrick, now you were trailing sloppy kisses down his chest, and then too near to his crotch, that had been his last straw before grabbing your hips in a tight hold, turning you around, and spreading your legs. He positioned one of his thighs, letting you rest your wait there as you started moving back and forth. He stilled you with a commanding hand.

“How about a game? You answer my questions correctly, you get fucked like the good girl I know you are. Otherwise …” He let his voice fade and you were tempted to answer one of his questions wrong, just for the fun of it. Just to see how far he could go this time. He would never hurt you, not really. He was too much of a sweetheart for that.

“What if I don't want to, Professor?” You said with a sultry voice. And he playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“Do not tease me, you minx.” He said in your ear before bouncing his leg harshly, and a gasp let you at the sudden movement and pressure in your clit. “Now let's start shall we?”

You nodded so fast that you knocked the back of your head to his nose. Every time you answered correctly he rubbed your clit in harsh tight circles. Every time you answered wrong he bounced his leg while he kept you in place. Your head had been working overtime to try to even think of an answer without even caring about its correctness. Either way, the pleasure you got from simply answering was more than enough to drive you crazy.

Your head had been spinning once he stopped moving. His voice didn't sound any longer, the only sound that sounded in the room was your heavy labored breathing. He placed a sweet kiss on your pulse point before he turned you around once again. A wicked grin was plastered on his face as he slipped inside of you. You haven't even registered the sound of him lowering his pants. Your legs wrapped around his chair as an anchor, his thrusts were so hard and so deed that you bounced with their force, and your hips were pressed flush against his. He buried his head into your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat as your softness enveloped him in more places than one. All thoughts about his friends burging into the room flew out of his head as his whole world redacted into you.

Stuttered breathing reached his ears as your muffled voice called out to him to stop, to never stop, and muttered his name with colorful names. He absolutely loved it when you lost control and cursed him for what he did to you. No one would know that his sweet girl loved to be fucked harshly to the point where youwas nothing but his fuck toy. Without warning you fell over the edge and he tried to remove his head from your embrace to admire your beauty. Your cheeks were flushed and tears slipped from your eyes as he came inside of you.

He pressed kisses on your forehead trying to calm you down, gathered into his arms. He was still deep inside of you and you rolled your hips against his. What you were trying to chase he didn't know, but he let you, curiosity got the best of him. Soon he was hard inside you again but he collected all of his willpower to let you take charge you had earned it. You whined his name pathetically, begging him to please just fuck you. He felt cruel and maybe he was, but you had to start claiming what you deserved without his help, even from him.

You got the hang of it pretty quickly and he was glad to praise his smart girl. Your legs were quivering around him, barely able to keep your weight. Just when they were about to give out he grabbed the back of your thighs helping you lift your weight but doing nothing else. He was leaking inside of you, you were doing the best job and he told you as much. A few minutes after you both tipped over the edge and this time he removed himself from you and positioned you back on his thigh. Without missing a beat you started riding his leg and he felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. It was going to be a long night for the two of you, he knew that because from the moments you looked at him with those eyes and with that pout on your lips, he was unapologetically wrapped around your finger.

words: a little of over 1.100

[captain-hawks]

BEST FRIENDS & BAD IDEAS

♡ — jean kirstein x f!reader

Big aspirations and even bigger dildos—in which a poorly thought out plan makes it incredibly hard to act like your feelings for Jean Kirstein are platonic. Not when they’re anything but. And especially not when you’re half naked in his lap.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.7k

prompt — cockwarming, creampie

additional content — NSFW, 18+, best friends to lovers speed run, dildo use, implied masturbation, unprotected p in v, praise kink, jean kirstein’s big dick

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Jean growls, and his low, rough tone sends you off-kilter, shoving you headfirst over the precarious edge you’ve been foolishly dangling from.

In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

–

In the long list of questionable decisions you’ve made today, one of the first catalysts guaranteeing inevitable disaster was your lack of foresight to lock your bedroom door before stripping off your shorts and underwear and preparing to lower yourself down onto the ridiculously large dildo that had been delivered in an even more comically large Amazon box this morning. 

Your best friend of many years and college roommate, Jean Kirstein, came home just as your makeshift “stand”—you’d hastily attached the suction cup at the base of the dildo to the last clean plate in the cabinet for lack of a better surface—went flying across the rug, ripping the few inches you’d manage to ease down onto right out of your lube-slick channel. You’d hit the floor with a thud, growling in frustration. This, understandably, had the unfortunate effect of attracting the concern of said roommate, who swiftly burst into your room as if you were in the middle of being robbed. 

The concern quickly morphed into hysterics as he spotted the giant purple dildo wiggling uselessly a few feet away from where you were lying on your stomach, punching the carpet and yelling at him to get out with as much dignity as you could muster.

“That’s my shirt,” he commented dryly, ignoring your pleas for him to forget everything he had just seen. 

“Well it was in my drawer,” you spat back, trying to push the dildo-plate behind you, although the damage was already done.

Jean leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have so many questions.”

“Our business hours are between 8 and 5, so you’ll have to call back tomorrow. Sorry,” you said with a dismissive wave, subtly kicking the plate and dildo beneath the bed. 

The suction cup chose that moment to pop off, and all ten inches came rolling back into view right where a bar of sunlight was stretching across the floor from the window. It would have almost looked artsy. 

If it weren’t a fucking dildo.

“I thought you ordered a lamp,” he observed mildly, motioning to the huge cardboard box you’d yet to take out to the recycling bin. 

“I’m gonna order you a fleshlight if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, shoving on a pair of sweatpants.

Jean crinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s so big, the landlord might start charging us for three tenants if he sees it. Is this a cry for help?”

“I’m trying to prepare myself for seducing Eren at the party Saturday night,” you whisper-yelled, as if anyone else was going to overhear you in your otherwise empty apartment. 

“Jaeger?!” he barked out with a disbelieving laugh. 

“Everyone says he’s huge. I don’t want it to be a disaster.”

“He’s not that fucking big!” he exclaimed incredulously. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can you like, go be somewhere tonight? Go get so high with Conny you forget you saw anything? I’m gonna go try in the bathroom instead.”

“You’re kicking me out of my own apartment so you can shove a giant, sparkly purple dildo inside of yourself imagining it’s Jaeger’s dork ass?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Jean.”

He groaned. “The bathroom sounds like an even worse idea. You’ll slip, hit your head on something, blood will go everywhere, and we’ll lose the security deposit.”

“Or my plan will work, I’ll get laid this weekend, and you can stop complaining about how grumpy I’ve been lately,” you reasoned matter-of-factly. 

Jean’s hand came to rest on your shoulder as you attempted to push past him to leave the room, aforementioned dildo jiggling menacingly in your hand. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said a little more softly, raising a brow as he cast another look at the offending object.

“I have lube!” you shot back defensively.

Jean glanced up at the ceiling, muttering something about regret under his breath before exhaling, “Let me help you.”

–

In all the years that you’ve known Jean, you’ve done an excellent job at keeping your little crush on him your best kept secret. A secret kept under the most formidable lock and key, buried deep in the depths of your psyche. Tucked away in the very back of a dusty, old cabinet like an expired can of corn. 

Objectively, you know Jean’s handsome. You’re well aware. 

With his intense, hazel eyes—ones that see everything. 

His tall, solid form. 

His sinfully curved, pink lips (and his habit of idly sliding his tongue along the bottom one). 

His long, dexterous fingers—a dangerous thought. 

That fucking mullet he let grow in, which shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is when he rolls right out of bed and leaves his room looking like a pillow-rumpled supermodel. 

He’s hot, okay?

And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed at a few parties over the years. Jean’s seen your ass more times than you can count. Definitely your boobs that time he ran into the bathroom to puke while you were showering. Sometimes he has a habit of putting his head on your lap when you’re both on the couch, nudging you till you card your hands through his soft brown hair like a damn dog. 

But it’s always been platonic. 

Friendly. 

Two people who are just very, very comfortable with one another. Comfortable in knowing that neither intends to ruin their stable, solid friendship by carelessly sprinkling feelings into the mix. 

Comfortably going so far as to share the sordid details of your sex lives (or lack thereof, lately) while leaning against the kitchen counter eating take out food without batting an eye—though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to one up him sometimes when you feel that familiar, unwelcome twinge of jealousy yawning awake inside of you.

But this?

This is asking too much of your restraint to keep your heart walled off and your mouth clamped shut. In your defense, it was already left in pitiful tatters after grinning-and-bearing it throughout the seven-month-long nightmare that was Jean dating fucking Pieck. 

—

The next phase of your slew of terrible ideas today began with Jean sitting at the head of your bed, back against the wall, holding the dildo between his legs. Like your own personal fucking dildo holder. Grinning like this wasn’t the single most awkward thing the two of you have ever done (save for the time you both fell asleep with your head in his lap on the couch and woke up to his accidental boner poking you in the ear—neither of you ever mentioned that again). 

And it would have been totally fine if it worked out like you imagined in your head the moment he pitched it—you sinking down onto the silicone schlong a few times, stuffing in as much as you could while he held it still. Then letting him carry on with his day while you lay there in bed for a little while with it lodged inside of you, getting yourself used to the stretch. Totally fine. 

The reality of the situation was far different, entailing a sticky, slippery mess of lube coating of your hands and a dildo that bent and flopped in every direction as you tried to carefully impale yourself on it while maintaining some sense of dignity. 

You had given up fairly quickly, butting your head against Jean’s collarbone and sighing as you asked if he thought Eren would go slow. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“…do you trust me?” Jean had asked carefully, like his next suggestion wasn’t going to send you spiraling.

Like “Just sit on my dick, as a friend!” wasn’t the most fucking confusing statement your heart, brain, and vagina had ever heard.

–

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament, straddling Jean Kirstein’s lap with far more inches of him than you’d realized he’d been keeping tucked away buried to the hilt in the velvety heat between your thighs. Raw, skin-to-fucking-skin, because you’re both in a miserable dry spell with not a single condom to be found between the two of you. And somehow the combination of “known you for half of my life” and “just got tested” and “IUD” sounded better than one of you being tasked with trudging to the pharmacy.

Or, god fucking forbid, going down one floor to ask Conny for one.

Nope. 

You have three days to prepare yourself for whatever may come with Eren, so sitting on your best friend’s intimidatingly large dick sans condom the least of your worries. Even if it feels so incredible you’re literally silently choking on the moan threatening to spill past your lips. 

Even if you fucking swear you heard his breath hitch when the thick head of his cock began to slip past your entrance, stretching you open wide as he breached your damp channel. 

Even if he hardly had to touch himself to get hard for this. 

Even if his gaze darkened when you choked out, “Jean, your dick is huge.”

This was a terrible idea. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”

“Doing what?!” you ask, exasperated.

He rests his hands on your waist, “Doing this,” and squeezes firmly, “on my dick.”

“This isn’t even sex,” you tell him, ignoring the way the close proximity of his hazel eyes sets a flurry of emotion stuttering in your chest. “It’s like, cockwarming at best. You can’t come from cockwarming if you’re not even turned on.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know how tight you are?”

“That’s obviously why I was worried about Ere—”

“It’s like this,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s a loose hold, only meant to prove a snarky point, but a spark of arousal seeps through your body anyway at the mere suggestion. His eyes widen a fraction at the traitorous way your walls clamp down on him even harder in response. “What, you into being choked?”

“I’m into a lot of things, Jeanie,” you tell him haughtily, trying to ignore the heat blistering beneath your skin.

“Like dumb idiots named Eren Jaeger?” he counters, making to grab for the tongue you’re currently sticking out at him. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think Jean sounds like he’s jealous. 

Which he definitely isn’t. 

But you poke the bear anyway. 

“What, are you jealous?”

He shifts slightly, and you bite your lip to stifle the moan as your cunt spasms around the pressure from his cock. 

If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his brow furrows as the corners of his mouth tilt downward slightly. “I just think you deserve better.”

You tug on his earlobe, letting out a weak laugh in an attempt to dispel the sticky, messy feeling of hope trying desperately to cling to the arousal stirring in your gut. “Says the guy who’s currently fucking me.”

Jean scoffs and deadpans, “I thought this wasn’t sex.”

Who are you kidding? Certainly not the tension coiling ruthlessly in your abdomen. 

You move a little, trying and failing to relieve the sensation of hot wax dripping down your spine. Instead, you let out a tiny, strangled noise when your throbbing clit presses down against his pelvis, the resulting flood of pleasure setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

The way he growls out your name through gritted teeth is a warning, but his low tone only serves to stoke the flames licking their way up between your thighs. 

You move again, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, head hitting the wall behind him with a resounding thud. 

You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but his hands find their way back to your hips, calloused fingertips pressing directly against your skin as he slides them up beneath your shirt. His shirt. 

The next time you rock against him, his grip on you tightens. And then, you feel it—he tugs you forward. 

You lean further into him, without really meaning to, forehead coming to rest against his. “What are we…”

“Just keep going,” he murmurs. 

He shifts again, sinking down lower so his back is pressed against the mattress, and you realize the angle gives you more purchase to grind down against him when he pulls at your waist, thumbs lazily skimming your hip bones. 

“Jean…” you whisper, not really sure what else you intend to say. 

“I want you to feel good,” he says softly, pushing his hips against you, even though he’s snugly bottomed out. 

It feels so fucking good—

—laying atop Jean while he stares back up at you, pupils clearly dilated in arousal—

—watching his eyes fall shut as you run a hand along the stubble on his jaw—

—knowing he’s well aware the slickness between your legs is no longer from the lube, your cunt gushing with arousal at the feeling of being stuffed deep with his thick cock. 

So you tell yourself you’ll figure the rest out later when you start to shamelessly grind down against him. 

“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” Jean teases when you cough to cover up a gasp.

Your answering moan is nearly a whimper, and Jean’s muscles tense beneath you as he continues to guide your hips. He doesn’t try to pull his cock out from where it’s lodged inside of you, doesn’t start thrusting and fucking up into you. He just lets you chase the clitoral stimulation you so desperately need while you’re cockwarming him, groaning along with you at each needy drag. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

This is far more intimate than you bargained for, the gentle slide of his hands up your back scraping your heart out bit-by-bit. 

“Holy shit, you don’t know how close I am to coming right now,” he moans in a gravelly, unsteady tone. 

All you can do is whimper his name when the rubber band suddenly snaps in response, your body trembling as a wave of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. 

And then Jean’s hands are cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you fiercely as you whine and shudder through your orgasm, moaning into your mouth as you card your fingers through his hair. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, pulsing with need as your tight cunt spasms and contracts, relentlessly squeezing his shaft while you soak him with your release. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning, both of you too drunk on pleasure to move when he suddenly climaxes, cock pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy. 

Chests heaving, Jean slowly sits up, forehead falling against your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

After a few minutes of silence, he finally murmurs, “Don’t fuck Jaeger.”

You tilt his head upward, finger resting just below his chin, skimming the stubble that’s there. Too many emotions are swimming in his hazel eyes, more than you can identify—save for one that you recognize with a jolt of clarity. It’s the way you look at him, when he’s not paying attention.

Longing. 

Desire. 

Soft, gentle, unfiltered affection. 

This time, you’re the one to close the distance between your mouths, brushing your lips against his. 

“Who?” you ask, smiling into the kiss. 

Jean chuckles, the sound like warm honey, and he deepens the kiss, one hand sliding to the back of your head. Though you remain seated on his softening length, cum begins to seep from your slick heat, pooling on his balls and abdomen. 

He goes to move, but you don’t budge. “You wanna get cleaned up?”

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth tilting upward with a smirk. “I’m comfortable.”

Jean bites his lower lip, huffing, “My cum’s dripping all over, and I’m two seconds from getting hard again if you keep squeezing down on me like that.”

Feigning a look of innocence, you flex the muscles in your tight, soaked channel one more time for good measure. He chokes, and you grin. 

“Good.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[the-iceni-bitch]

Through Every Forest

V/V: Run

Relationship: dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega!Fem reader

Words: ~4.8k

Summary: Will Curtis finally make you his?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral, p in v, knotting, kinda acrobatic 69), Omegaverse, possessive Curtis, primal kink, mentions of non con activities, rut and heat, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: The finale! Our insane babes have feelings? Curtis is a whole fucking meal. I’m just so happy they’re getting the ending they deserve and hope y’all enjoy!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on the latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You groaned when you woke up, your wounds still sore even though it had been almost two weeks. But then you felt Curtis’s heart beating under your cheek, your eyes fluttering open so you could gaze at his face. He had spent every night with you since your last disaster of a hunt, and most of his days as well except when he had to take meetings, gently helping you as you recovered from your injuries.

But he was still angry, growling each time he had to leave you and deal with the rich, entitled assholes his operation catered to. They were making him rich, but after the fiasco of your last hunt he trusted the dicks who paid him even less. Even the fact that he had rooted out Bryce and gotten rid of the rebellious elements of his organization didn’t help his mood, Carter being the only Alpha he would trust anywhere near you.

The only thing that could make him feel any better was you, being close to you and knowing that you were safe keeping him more happy than he would ever admit. You were his now, no one else deserved you or could handle you. He was sick of pretending otherwise, even though he was still grumpy about it.

It was hard to stay grumpy when he woke up to the feeling of your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock though, groaning before he even opened his eyes and resting his hand on your head. Once he was fully awake he looked down at you, chuckling at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. You hummed when he stroked your cheek gently before gripping the back of your head and forcing himself down your throat, gagging and drooling all over him as you gave him a reproachful look.

“Don’t you fucking glare at me, little girl.” He popped you on the cheek once before fucking up into your mouth again, grinding against your face and purring when when he felt your nails digging into his hair-covered thighs. “Acting like you don’t love this shit when I can smell that little pussy drooling like a bitch.”

You just rolled your eyes while you swallowed around him, breathing through your nose when he started fucking your throat in earnest. He was right, you did love this. Your pussy was throbbing and clenching while his cock filled your mouth and stretched your lips until they stung, your jaw aching from being forced open so wide for such a long time. Then he yanked on your hair and wrapped his free hand around your neck and you moaned around him, choking when he squeezed until your throat constricted around his thick cock.

“That’s a good little ‘mega, fucking Christ.” Curtis grunted and threw his head back when you swallowed around him, his hips grinding against your face as he kept gripping your throat to make your muscles tighten around his dick. “You’re gonna let me knot that pretty mouth, aren’t you baby girl?”

Even though you couldn’t answer him he could see in your eyes you would, that you wanted it. Your tongue slid along his shaft as you slobbered all over him and yourself, and you could have sighed when his fingers massaged your scalp as he pushed your head up and down on his cock. His precum ran down your throat as he let you bring him closer, his voice leaving him in a low growl when you brought a hand up to play with his balls.

He couldn’t get enough of watching you like this, of knowing how much you enjoyed being used by him. It’s what let him know you were the only one who deserved him, just like he was the only one who deserved you. The two of you were made for each other, both of you vicious and primal, survivors of the circumstances life threw at you who made the best of your respective situations. And all he wanted was to make sure you never had to survive anything else.

When you squeezed his balls he bit his lip, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched your wide stretched lips grip his cock. He could feel himself starting to swell, his balls pulling tight and his knot inflating while he fixed his gaze on yours. You gagged when he squeezed your throat so tight you couldn’t breathe, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision going blurry as your cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing.

Curtis bit off a roar when he shot his thick, hot cum down your throat, his hips jerking against your face while his knot locked him behind your teeth. You swallowed every drop eagerly, your eyes bright as you laved your tongue all over him and watched his face contort in bliss. Every time you made him come you knew you would kill any Omega who tried to take him from you, no weak little bitch could ever do for him what you could. If only he would actually fuck you.

“My good girl, c’mere little one.” Curtis snorted when you just whined around his knot as he leaned down and grabbed your hips, keeping your head in his lap while he lifted your body off the bed until your ass was resting against his chest and your legs were hooked over his broad shoulders. “Good thing you’re so flexible, filly, makes everything I want to do to you that much easier. Watch your fucking teeth.”

You choked when he shoved fingers from both hands inside your pussy and pulled your clenching walls apart, his tongue pushing inside you and lapping up your slick like he had been walking in the desert for a week and you were his oasis. His beard rubbed at your folds until they were raw, your clit throbbing against his upper lip while he rubbed the inside of your pussy even as he swirled his tongue inside you. When he pulled back and spat on your cunt you shivered, your throat constricting around his cock when he smeared it all over your soft lips with the calloused pads of his fingers.

Curtis groaned against your skin when your tongue started running all over his cock again, kissing your pussy almost reverently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Even though he couldn’t see your face he could feel the pleasure coursing through you, your body shivering in his arms while his tongue pressed inside you once more. He had to pull away from you when you moaned around him, though, his knot swelling even more as he shot another load down your spasming throat.

“Goddamn, you just wanna have a knot in your mouth all fucking day, huh girl?” Curtis smiled and bit the inside of your thigh when you just whimpered in response, smacking your cunt and grunting when it made you let out a muffled squeal. “C’mon little one, don’t have the time to keep your mouth stuffed full, no matter how good you feel. Gimme a big one.”

He started rubbing your cunt viciously, his other arm wrapped around your waist and holding you tightly to his body while you gushed slick all over him. When he slapped your pussy again you choked as you tried to scream around his knot, your back arching and your toes curling when he kept spanking your sensitive flesh until you were soaked. You were so close, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as you struggled to control yourself even as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Three fingers plunged inside you and pressed against that perfect spot and you screamed, your entire body going stiff as you came apart at the seams. Curtis laughed softly when you squirted all over his face, dragging his tongue over you slowly to lick you clean as you kept quivering in his arms. It took another minute for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of your mouth, and you moaned when he turned your body so you were sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest. You sighed when he scented the top of your head, letting your eyes fall closed as his hand ran over your spine while he looked out the window.

“How does your thigh feel today, filly?” Curtis kissed your hair and gently touched the scar on your side, smiling when you didn’t flinch. “You gonna be up for a longer walk?”

“Yeah.” You hummed when you felt his heart beating under your cheek. “No cane today.”

“Fucking stubborn… fine.” He had been trying so hard not to baby you after you were shot, but he couldn’t help but still feel guilty for putting you in a situation where you had been injured. “Just make sure you eat all your food and take your pain meds.”

You still let him help you walk to the table once a Beta brought your breakfast in, leaning on his arm then sitting in his lap so he could keep an eye on you. Even though he wasn’t babying you, he still refused to let you out of his reach, never wanting you more than an arm’s length away so he could ensure he was there to catch you if you fell. Once you had finished your breakfast he helped with your stretches, calling you his good girl when you just groaned at him pressing your knee to your chest before massaging your thigh. Your walk was slow, especially without the cane, and you still hadn’t gotten used to being allowed to roam the grounds without a collar and leash. Curtis smiled at you when you held onto his arm and looked up at him, letting you rest when you reached the fence at the edge of the compound.

“Do you have meetings today?” Your leg was throbbing a little but you tried not to let it show, leaning your cheek against his arm and shivering when an autumn breeze blew through the trees.

“Just one.” Hopefully his last one for a while. “And you have a checkup, so no bitching about being left all by yourself.”

You snorted when he started to lead you back to the compound, scenting his chest and sighing as his fingers ran over your spine. He kissed you before he left you in the medical center, his hand gripping the back of your neck and his fingers pressing against your gland until you were sighing into his mouth. Curtis nodded to the Beta doctor before leaving you, reluctance written all over his face when he moved back down the hall to his offices.

The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined you, helping you stretch your limbs and making sure your mobility was still doing well as you recovered from being shot. In spite of some residual stiffness you were doing well, and he gave you the go ahead to stop using the cane which you couldn’t be more pleased about. He did warn you that with your heat coming up in a few weeks you needed to be careful about not over exerting yourself, but aside from taking a blood sample he was fine sending you back to your quarters.

Curtis’s meeting went well also, managing to land the whale after promising him a once in a lifetime opportunity and shaking his hand. His own visit to the med center went as expected, but he still had a slight frown on his face when he went back to your rooms. He just hoped you would be understanding about what he had to do.

“Hey honey.” When you were stretching when he walked in he smiled, helping you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes. “You look good, like you’re feeling better.”

“I am.” You could smell the change in him, like he was stressed about something. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too fucking observant for your own good.” Curtis grumbled before bending to rest his forehead against yours. “I… shit. I have to leave for two weeks.”

“What?!” You hissed and grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull back, the look in your eyes full of distress. “The fuck you are. Where are you going?”

“That’s not important.” He hated that expression on your face, but he couldn’t stay. Curtis set his jaw and wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing his thumb against your carotid and growling until you started to relax. “This isn’t a punishment, and my people will still be reporting to me, so no throwing your fucking tantrums or I’ll take it out on your ass when I’m back.”

“You fucking bastard.” You groaned when he slapped you, wheezing when he squeezed your neck tighter and pulled you close to scent your hair. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me, after everything…”

“I told you, I’m not abandoning you.” Curtis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you deeply, winding his arms around you and sighing when you purred against his lips. “I’ll be back, don’t be a fucking bitch the whole time I’m gone, be my good girl.”

“Wait, Curtis…” You dragged him back to you and kissed him again, just restraining yourself from climbing into his arms. “You promise you’ll be back?”

“Of course.” He rubbed your mating gland and frowned when you gave him a pathetic expression. “You’re mine now, I’m not leaving you. Just keep being good for me.”

You tried not to whine when he finally left your shared rooms, hating the disgusting, needy feeling that was sitting in your chest. That feeling didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that. But you still wanted to be good, he had to be coming back. He was the only one you trusted, the only one who made you feel safe. So you ate all your meals, and did all of your physical therapy exercises. You even let Carter walk you around the compound to make sure your mobility was continuing to improve. It wasn’t the same without him, though. Every night when you tried to fall asleep all you could think about was how cold the bed was without Curtis.

Two weeks passed so slowly without him. You should have hated how upset you were when he wasn’t with you, but all you could feel was lonely. It was even worse that your heat snuck up on you a week early, making you moan and whine as cramps made you double over and slick stain your thighs. When the sun began setting on the fourteenth day you started when Carter came into your rooms unannounced, frowning when he held up a white silk shift and looked at you expectantly.

“What is that for?” You shivered and groaned in your nest when he came closer, gripping one of Curtis’s shirts tightly when another cramp wracked you. “I’m not supposed to do hunts anymore.”

“It’s from Curtis.” Carter sighed, not enjoying the subterfuge so matter how necessary it was. “I’m going to take you to see him. He asked you to trust him.”

“You… alright.” You scowled and plucked the shift from his grip, waiting until he turned around to take off your sweats and put on the nightie. “If this is some kind of trick I’ll fucking kill the both of you.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled when you just sniffed at him and let him lead you out of your quarters. “That’s why you’re the boss’s girl.”

You found your face heating up when he called you Curtis’s girl. It was stupid, but with how damn hormonal you were you felt flattered. The two of you didn’t talk while he drove you out towards the hunting grounds, your anxiety starting to go up when you saw a collection of bright lights centered on a clearing right in front of the lodge. Another cramp hit you and you whined, shivering in the cool night air and grateful that Carter was on suppressants so you didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.

One of Curtis’s Alphas was speaking to a group of strange Alphas on the lodge’s balcony, and you could see Betas moving through the group as they took bets. In front of them was a cage, and you could hear the speaker going over the Prime Alpha specimen and you felt your blood freeze. The scent of his rut hit you and you doubled over when your cunt throbbed, snarling at Carter when he parked the jeep.

“What’s going on?” You tried to pull away when Carter took your arm and started to pull you towards the clearing but he was too strong. “Is this a fucking joke?”

“No.” Carter shook his head when he thrust you under the lights. “It was his idea.”

You whined when you saw Curtis in the cage prowling around like a dangerous animal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wild, and you’d never smelled a rut so potent. Every instinct you had was begging you to submit, to bend over and present to him so he could knot you and get rid of the fever and pain that was torturing you. The sight of him restrained like that was killing you, making you reach out to him until he slammed against the bars.

“I can fucking smell you.” His voice was a vicious growl, sending a vibration through your whole body that made you whimper. “I’m gonna pin you down and fuck you like a bitch until my pup’s in your belly.”

“You rat bastard.” Being so close to him while both of you were victim to your primal urges was making you lose yourself, suddenly pressing your body against the bars and keening when he did the same with a snarl. “You left me by myself just so you could mate me for a fucking audience? I should kill you.”

“You can try, ‘Mega.” He wanted to lick you everywhere, you smelled so fucking good, making his hard cock throb painfully until he had to practically hump the bar he was leaning against. “Don’t think it’s gonna go your way. Besides, not like I could stay around that ripe fucking cunt for two weeks while my suppressants wore off without fucking you senseless.”

“Not my fault you wanted to turn into a fucking caveman.” Your body was screaming at you to give yourself to the Alpha, to present, to breed. You’d never felt anything like it, mewling and keening while you scented the bars right in front of his chest. “You could’ve told me what the fuck was going on.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Curtis rammed into the bars again and rumbled when you tilted your head back so he could see your swollen gland, licking his lips as he thought about what it was going to feel like when he finally knotted you. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to breed that little pussy. You’d better run for your fucking life, bitch.”

The two of you kept snarling at each other and grinding against the bars of his cage, your eyes blown wide with desire and need as your skin itched to be pressed against each other. Then the shot went off and you gave him one more smile, biting your lip before turning on your heels and sprinting into the woods. You didn’t even want to bother trying to find a hiding place, you just wanted to run. You wanted him to chase you down and catch you and pin you to the ground while he claimed you. Your blood was up, the moon was bright as it shone through the trees, and you wanted to give in to the wild instincts that were coursing through your veins.

There was no point in trying to be careful, so you let your body crash through the brush as branches whipped against your face and arms, leaving your blood on the sharp wood as they scraped and scratched your skin. After twenty minutes of running you heard a howl and almost collapsed when an enormous cramp made your core clench, your breath coming heavily as you fought through the pain and kept running. You could hear the trees groaning and shaking far away, knowing that he was drawing closer by the second and pumping your limbs even faster until your lungs were burning.

Curtis snarled viciously when he caught your scent, ripping a branch off one of the trees and throwing it aside after it slashed across his chest. He didn’t even feel the sting, completely consumed by the unquenchable lust that was filling his body. Your scent was calling to him like a beacon, your trail so clear he could have found you with his eyes closed. You were so close, and you were his. The fact that he had waited so long to claim you seemed stupid now when he was lost in a haze of pure want for you and the pups you would give him.

The air changed, and there you were. Both of you smelled each other at the same time, pausing to gaze at each other for just a moment before Curtis roared and you took off again. He chuckled when he heard you whimper, leaping over a fallen tree and stretching his legs to their limit so he could catch you. You were quick, but so was he, with longer limbs and not wracked by the constant pain you were as your heat tried to drive you to submit to him.

When he caught you you yelped, panting heavily as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor and he wound his body with yours in a tangle of limbs. Curtis shredded the delicate fabric of your shift with a snarl before he started scenting you obsessively, his lips meeting yours for only a moment then his face was buried in your neck. You could feel slick leaking down the insides of your thighs when he dragged his nose over your throat, your pussy throbbing as he breathed deeply and growled before moving to rub his face against your soft breasts. He chuffed when he lifted your arm so he could breathe in where you were most potent, making you shudder when he licked the smooth skin of your armpits then began biting his way down your stomach.

Curtis let out a deep growl and rolled you onto your stomach, biting your ass and barring his massive arm across the small of your back when you tried to wriggle away from him. He buried his face between your legs and started lapping up your slick, groaning at your taste while you quivered at his touch. As soon as he sat back up you presented for him, panting while you arched your back and bent your knees under your body.

“That’s a good little bitch.” Curtis ran his nose up your spine until his body was caging yours in, reaching down between the two of you to undo his fly while he licked your gland. “Gonna breed the fuck out of this little pussy, you’re mine.”

As soon as he shoved his cock inside you he sank his teeth into your gland and made you scream. His hands were braced on either side of your head as he began to rut into you, his voice rough each time he grunted against your skin. He was stretching you so wide it almost hurt, but you loved it. You dug your fingers into the soft earth when he started moving faster inside you, whining and biting your lip while his hips drove your body into the ground.

Curtis threw his head back and howled when you clenched around him and gasped as your first orgasm ripped through you. Your blood was filling his mouth and he’d never felt more alive, tangling his fingers with yours where your hands were braced against the forest floor. His breath came in heavy grunts as he kept fucking you in deep strokes, your body trembling as another gush of slick was pushed out of you by his fat cock. When he leaned back down to lick your neck you mewled, tilting your head to the side so he could suck on your new mark and lap it clean.

“Say it.” He nuzzled at your hair and crooned when you keened for him, his cock pummeling your swollen, wet pussy until he was soaked in your juices. “Say you’re mine.”

“Curtis…” You whimpered when he bit your ear and squeezed your hands with his. “I’m yours.”

“Fucking right you’re mine.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, swallowing your sharp gasp when he pulled out of you so he could pin you against a tree. “Just mine.”

You wailed when his thick cock penetrated you again, the rough bark of the tree scraping your back as he hammered into you. His breath was hot against your neck as he pressed his body close to yours, chuffing in your ear while your pussy stretched and flexed around him. When you dug your nails into the bunching muscles of his back he groaned, driving deeper and grinning when you gave him a satisfying cry.

The look in his eyes was wild when he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gripping your waist so tight they were going to bruise. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. You needed it, and him. You were never letting him go.

Curtis snarled when you bit his gland at the same time you squirted all over his cock, taking one hand off your waist so he could punch the tree right next to your head so hard the wood cracked. When the bond opened up you both groaned, the intensity of your shared emotions crashing around you as you smashed your lips together. His tongue curled against yours when you wound your arms around his neck, his knot starting to swell as his balls pulled tight.

The bond confirmed that the two of you possessed each other completely, your savage, primal instincts flooding your systems as you lost yourselves in each other. Curtis’s drool was running down your chin while he kissed you sloppily, making you moan as he kept his cock sheathed to the hilt and ground against your swollen clit until you shuddered. Your cunt clenched around him and he roared, his eyes screwing shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his peak.

You sobbed when his knot fully inflated and locked him inside you, letting him hold you up while his thick, warm cum flooded your womb. Both of you growled into each other’s mouths while you stayed pressed together, your eyes drinking each other up. Curtis kept rolling his body against yours as you both rode your pleasure out, wanting nothing so much as to keep you full of him for the next four days. Then the sound of one of the drones filled your ears and you hissed when a sharp stinging pain hit your neck. You saw a dart hit Curtis right before you blacked out, your body slumping against his.

When you woke up you were in a strange room, the window looking out at the empty woods where red and gold leaves were falling. You purred when you realized someone had transferred your nest to wherever you were, rubbing your face against one of Curtis’s shirts before rolling over to find him beside you. As soon as he felt you stir he opened his eyes and crawled on top of you, grunting when he just thrust inside you again immediately.

“Ah, fuck.” You moaned when he started to fuck you, your mouth falling open when he grabbed your neck and turned your face so he could lick into your mouth. “Where are we?”

“My cabin.” He drove deep and chuckled when your eyes rolled back in your head. “Had them knock us out so we didn’t rip them apart when they tried to move us. God, you feel so fucking good.”

“I know… shit.” You gripped his shirt tightly when his hips picked up speed, panting into his mouth while your pussy fluttered around him. “Don’t stop.”

“Mine. All fucking mine.” Curtis kissed you deeply and smiled against your lips when you moaned for him. “Anyone touches you again and I’ll rip their fucking spines out.”

“And if you ever go back to any of those whimpering bitches,” You bit his bottom lip until you tasted blood. “I’ll cut your dick off.”

“Good girl.” He growled and started grinding into you again, gripping the hair at the base of your skull and yanking your head back so he could lick your throat. “Don’t want any other bitch, just you and this sweet little cunt. You’re done running.”

[misdeliria]

for all the hoes (respectful) that wanted part 2 and were so patient. I was stressed about the pressure to make it perfect but hopefully it's good enough. lol

fyi: cursing | @sarahlovesseb ily 💗

part 2 of cupid's chokehold -> bkg's turn to confess

Fight or Flight (1.7k)

Recent News: Favorite Crime-Fighting Duo Hiding Secret Relationship?

Usually, Katsuki wouldn't glance twice at the tabloids, but when his face is plastered everywhere with a dreamy expression directed at your figure, he's become a ticking time bomb.

The photo is taken entirely out of context, he convinces himself. His brain is firing on all cylinders to figure out what was going through his mind during that interview, but all that comes up is how impressed he was after the fight. All he remembers is how impressive you were.

"It's not that big of a deal," you assure him with a playful tone and a smile. You're looking over a magazine cover that showcases the pair of you, your legs kicked up on his desk as you sit in the adjacent seat. "I think we look damn good together."

Katsuki just glares at you as he silently agrees. He's silent as he ponders the meaning behind your words. It's been months since your confession, and any tension or awkwardness has dissipated and has become long-forgotten.

"Everyone should mind their own business," he mumbles, knocking your feet off his desk and swiping the magazine out of your hand. He tosses it in his drawer and slams it shut for good measure. When he looks back at you, you're smug and crossing your leg over the other.

"When were you going to tell me we were in a secret relationship?" Irritation builds in Katsuki's chest. Your teasing isn't helping the situation – if it can be considered a situation. "I would've gotten you flowers for our anniversary."

Katsuki scoffs and returns his focus to his desktop. "Flowers give me allergies. Plus, all the petals falling and shit, making a huge fucking mess."

"You're right," you concede with a sigh. "What would you accept as an anniversary gift, then?"

He doesn't answer right away, even though he already knows. "A limited edition All Might figurine." It earns him a soft laugh from you, and he sneaks a peek from the corner of his eye before your toothy smile fades.

"Don't you already have one of those?"

"They're collectibles."

"Obviously," you remark dryly.

Katsuki doesn't follow up with a rebuttal, and you fall silent, so he glances in your direction to catch you eyeing him with your leg bouncing and your fingers fidgeting in your lap. His stomach flips the most nauseating way as he realizes you're nervous.

"If you have something to say, spit it out," he barks, heat rising to his face. "Otherwise, you still have that report to write for the both of us."

"Yeah, yeah," you hum, waving your hand dismissively at the mention of work. "I have a new assignment, though. Haven't gotten a chance to tell you."

Katsuki remains silent as he waits for you to continue. His eyes narrow at your hesitation.

"The Committee is sending me on a mission in the States." You smile sheepishly, and it takes a moment to register in Katsuki's head.

"A mission? How long?"

"Eight weeks. I leave at the end of this week." You're obviously displeased with his reaction, scrunching your nose and frowning. "Thought you'd be happy for me."

2 months. You were being sent to one of the most dangerous places in the world for 2 months.

"How come I wasn't told about this mission?" He keeps his voice low, and it comes out as a growl. You look more exasperated at his attitude than his lack of an answer. "They're sending you alone?"

"No," you drawl, avoiding his heavy gaze. "They're sending Cellophane too."

Cellophane? If Katsuki wasn't angry before, he was now.

He shoots up from his seat, startling you before taking your wrist and pulling you up.

"Where are we going?" You hiss, stumbling to keep up with his long strides as he drags you to the building's staircase. With the elevators functioning perfectly, there shouldn't be any interruptions from the other patrons in the establishment.

"I get that you're pissed-" You start to say as he holds the door open for you to pass him, but he silences you with a hiss. "Did you just fucking hiss at me?"

"I'm your partner," he reminds you after the door closes behind him. Partners tell each other things. They communicate. Why didn't you tell him earlier? "I should be going with you on this mission. Why the hell are they sending Hanta?"

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. The platform is small, so you stand on the steps that make you eye level with him. "We volunteered for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Katsuki tries to conceal his hurt, but it appears accusatory and bitter. "I would've volunteered with you if you wanted to do it so badly. I would've called you fucking crazy, but I would've done it." For you, his voice whispers in his head, and he rakes a hand through his hair.

"They wouldn't have sent you, anyways," you tell him, glaring at the wall and refusing to look at him. "You're a fan-favorite. You bring in too much money for them to send you to another country right now."

Katsuki barked out a laugh. "Like they wouldn't fucking jump at the chance to get-"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to go," you blurt over him, breathing heavily. You instantly reel back, pressing your knuckles between your brows. "I didn't- That came out wrong."

A plethora of questions and emotions flooded Katsuki. He wondered if he was a lousy partner, if you were tired of working with him, if recently everything had been one-sided – but deep down, he was offended. Why-

"Why not?"

"Because," you stressed, exasperated. "Because I need some space."

Katsuki frowns at that. "Space?"

"Yes, please understand."

Oh. Oh.

"No," he says to you, making you scoff. "I don't want space."

"That's not up to you."

"What about after the mission?" Katsuki presses, reaching out to grab your arm. "I don't want you to leave. You're trying to run away." The image of you standing from your seat and pulling away from him flashes through his head, and he has to shake his head.

"What's the alternative?" Your voice is quiet, but you sound miserable, and Katsuki knows it's his fault. He's spent months blissfully ignorant of your feelings under your professionalism, and he's been unfair.

"Have dinner with me." It slips through his lips quickly, and inviting you to eat with him feels natural. "When you get back."

"Oh, fuck off," you croak, pulling away from him, but his hold on you remains firm. "You're so fucking-"

"Listen to me," he demands, and his voice bounces off the walls. "I know I'll miss you when you leave for this mission. And I'll be waiting for you to come back and thinking about you the whole time you're gone."

"You're only saying this-"

"Dumbass, do I have to spell it out for you?" Katsuki practically screams in your face, shaking you gently. "I can't fucking focus on anything if I don't have you with me. So you have to come back."

You're quiet, and Katsuki's face is on fire. His heart's in his throat, and he briefly wonders if this was how you felt all those months ago.

"I like your stupid laugh," he confesses, squeezing your arm in a desperate attempt for you to believe him. "And when you smile at something I tell you. And I- I don't- Fuck. I'm sorry I've been an idiot, but please don't run away again. And if you don't fucking believe me, I'll prove it."

Katsuki breathes in relief when you finally, finally crack a smile. Soft laughter quickly follows it, and you place your hand over his.

"Alright," you say. "You've convinced me. You can stop embarrassing yourself now."

With a sudden rush of intense embarrassment, Katsuki drops his head in his hand and sighs heavily. As your laughter grows, his uneasiness subsides, and relief slowly washes over him.

He just confessed to you. And you're smiling gently, and you look equally relieved as you grip his hand, and Katsuki can't help but smile too.

"I'm only giving you two months," he warns you, leaning in closer to you and relishing how you respond alike. You raise your brow at that, the corner of your lips twitching upward.

"Or else, what?"

"I'll drag your ass back here from the States if I have to," he says, and a glowing smile blooms across your face.

-

1 year later

"I love you," Katsuki murmurs, watching you step away from the villain as officers take over the arrest.

"Whatever," you scoff, throwing a light punch to his arm. "Only because I did all the work."

"You must've hit your damn head or something because I did all the heavy lifting," he refutes, shoving you away as a newscaster approaches him.

"Dynamight! Dynamight, can you share how your relationship with your partner developed with our viewers? Does it cause any tension or conflict with your peers?"

You almost laugh at the sour expression that twists on Katsuki's face at mentioning other Pro-Heroes as his 'peers'. The reporter raises their microphone higher as Katsuki leans down to comment.

"Mind your own fucking business. Now, fuck off."

"You can't curse on the news, Dynamight," you chastise as he follows you in the opposite direction, leaving the reporter stunned in silence.

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" Katsuki grins widely, flashing his canines and swooping in for a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Alright, hotshot," you tease, pushing him away in your weak attempt to maintain professionalism. "You're not Number 1 on the charts yet."

He hums lowly in response, almost snarling as a warning to stop beating him down. "We got plans tonight with Ei and Pinky. Don't forget."

"Yes, yes, I know," you sigh, rolling your eyes. "You've reminded me five times already."

"Don't want you spoiling your appetite with your munchies."

"You're not coming back to the office with me?" You ask, noticing him staying back.

"Chargebolt's running late. I gotta cover for him for a few." Katsuki throws a thumb back with an irritated expression, but you have a slight feeling he's excited to get more patrol time. "I'll see you back at home."

Smiling, you nod and start to part ways, but you're pulled back before taking another step.

"The fuck are you going?" Amusement laces his tone, and you're laughing against his lips as Katsuki presses a dozen pecks against your lips. "Gotta say bye to me."

"Okay, goodbye," you strain, trying to escape him with the thought of being watched by civilians around you but failing to suppress your amusement. "You need to stop doing this. Let me go."

"I love you," he says to you. It's quiet and sincere, and you almost stop flailing in his arms at the sentiment.

"I know, Dynamight. I know. Now, let me go."

"Say it back." Katsuki glares at you through his mask, and you almost regret taking down his emotional barricades.

"Okay, but you need to fucking let me go." It annoys you to your wits end when Katsuki tilts his head so his ear faces you, and suddenly he's the most patient man.

"I love you too."

a/n: not my best work, but idc, had to give them a happy ending and i don't fuck with all the dramatics. with that said, hope you liked it enough

tags: @asrasmysoulmate @brunnetteiwik @katbug37 @alekssashka7 @sendnuwudes @mysideeffectsofyou @imdefgam @luvsown @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @hsxhype @chims-kookies @atsushiki @madsttx @soft-witchy @baby-snart @vampiresarezombies @geldg @punicorn999 @maryhatz @bluenightlight @when-you-are-just-done @aruste @majorapandahero @hp-hogwartsexpress @6423btw @poemzcheng @lilpothoscuttings @ushygushybaby @princess-angie-bakugo @cvltts @cloudydino @tdntu0 @awkwardaardvarkforever @rubymha @bougiebabe @arcorjoan @bustyredheadsworld @everyonehatescarmen @naturakaashi @farawayfromthesun @k0z3me

[bropunzeling]

38. Multiverse/meeting alternate version of self for matthew/leon?

"What the fuck," Leon says.

Matthew -- not Matthew. Well, Matthew, but not, like, Leon's -- okay, not Leon's Matthew, not anymore, not since -- but not like they were ever -- fuck, this is getting complicated. It's too early for things to be this complicated. This Matthew, the one who is for whatever reason sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island instead of in his own fucking house getting smashed and bearhugging the Cup, raises his eyebrows, then looks pointedly down at the mug smashed on the floor of the otherwise spotless kitchen before sweeping his gaze over to Leon's bare feet. "Might want to get a broom."

Leon gapes at him. "What the fuck."

Matthew snorts. "Said that already."

Leon closes his eyes and pinches his nose, praying for strength. Or for this Matthew to just -- poof out of existence. Leave Leon alone. Give him some fucking space again. Leon's had that space for the past two months, and it hasn't helped much yet, but he's been holding out hope that at some point the benefits will kick in.

They have to. He can't keep going if he'll always be this sore about everything that happened this June.

When he opens his eyes again, this other Matthew -- clean-shaven, no longer with the mullet Leon hated that he found attractive, tanned, in a shirt Leon could swear he recognizes, though not from where -- is still there. Still in Leon's house. Still watching him, a mixture of bemused and, now that Leon's looking closer, with carefully disguised panic in his eyes.

Leon goes and gets the broom, then sweeps up the mug on the floor. Not once does Matthew get up to help him, instead opting to sit in his stool -- Leon's stool -- drumming his fingers on the granite counters in a nonsense rhythm that sets Leon's teeth on edge. Leon thinks about whether or not he can get away with murder. Too bad the cleaner doesn't come until tomorrow.

When he's finished, dustpan rapped on the rim of the trash can, he braces himself on the counter and forces himself to make eye contact. It's surprisingly difficult. For all that this isn't his -- the Matthew that he knows, they're similar enough to bring the old mixture of irritation and attraction flooding back. Something about the glint in Matthew's eyes, the tilt of his jaw, smug and challenging and daring Leon to come a little closer. All of it is the same as ever. Only the set line of his mouth and the whites of his eyes and the obnoxious drumming of his fingers show that he's not all confidence, that he might be freaking out about this.

Which is fair. After all, he definitely doesn't belong here.

"Explain," Leon says, after a moment.

"What do you mean, explain?" Tap-tap-tap go his fingers.

"You're -- you shouldn't be here," Leon replies, frustrated. "How did you get here?"

Tap-tap-tap. "I don't know," Matthew says with a shrug. "I was asleep, and when I woke up, I was here." He looks around the kitchen. "And when I got up and looked around, I realized this isn't our -- that this wasn't right."

Leon tries very hard not to think about that our. "But you know who I am?"

Matthew barks out a laugh. "Yeah, I'd say that."

Dread creeps into Leon's lungs, clammy and harsh. "You'd say that," he repeats dully. There's something on Matthew's hand, on one of those fucking fingers tapping away, something he doesn't want to look closely at, but he's pretty sure he has to.

As if he knows, Matthew lifts his left hand, splaying his fingers, all the better to show the black silicon ring on that third finger. "Yeah," he says, smiling tightly. "I'd say that."

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

The Divorce: Part I

Y/N takes on her first high profile case as an assistant at a law firm. Her first client? Harry Styles.

Word Count: ~ 3k

Warnings: none… yet 😋

Y/N wouldn’t say she was particularly brave. Or outspoken. She didn’t like speaking much at all really, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at her job. She just happened to be a bit shy. Sometimes she wondered why it was exactly that she wanted to become a lawyer, a job that required more talking than most others. But here she was, assisting at one of the largest law firms in England. Now she didn’t actually do much legal work; she tended to fetch coffee and organise documents but if she ever dared to speak up, people would quickly realise she was much more intelligent than what she was given credit for.

“Y/N! We have a possible case, a big one. I want you as my right hand woman for this ok? Let’s get you out of your shell a bit eh?” Mr Collins strode up to Y/N’s desk, startling her slightly.

Robert Collins was a joy of a boss and Y/N was grateful for every second she worked with him. He knew she was timid and he didn’t push past her limits. But he was encouraging and sometimes Y/N wished he wouldn’t be as nice to her so that she could prepare herself for the real world outside her little bubble where people were ruthless and unforgiving. Robert also had an extremely pregnant wife at home who was ready to pop at any moment which somewhat accounted for his rather happy in office personality. 

“Who’s the client? Do I know them?” She asked, standing and rounding her desk to where Robert stood. 

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. It’s Harry Styles.” 

Y/N’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground, but she kept quiet as Robert briefly explained the situation. It wasn’t anything they weren’t used to - high profile divorce, with two people unable to come to a decision on what to split between them. 

“We’ll need to draft up a plan this afternoon, we’re meeting him tomorrow. He’s doing interviews himself which is unheard of. He’s looking for the best representation he can find which is understandable - the man has assets. Every law firm in the country wants this case. If we get it, it’ll skyrocket our reputation. Do as much research as you can, I’ll send through a file on everything I have. I need this to be airtight Y/N. He’s one of the most important clients we could ever have and he also has reputation for being a bit of an asshole so we… you need to prepare for that. Don’t screw this up.” 

“Of course Mr Collins I’ll get right on it.”

Y/N worked for hours, making a solid plan and editing it until she was finally happy with it. She left the office for the night, long after everyone else, arriving home as the sun started to set. After a quick shower and muesli bar (Y/N knew it wasn’t the most filling of meals but she was tired and frankly could not be bothered) she jumped into bed. 

Just as she was closing her eyes, her phone buzzed twice. 

Robert Collins: Y/N, Linda is in Labour!

Robert Collins : You’re going to need to take the meeting alone tomorrow. You need to do everything you can to secure this deal. Do whatever it takes. We need this case. We need him. If there’s an emergency call me but otherwise I’ll be at the hospital. Will keep you updated.

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. Take a meeting ALONE? With HARRY STYLES. Oh he had to be fucking kidding. With a groan she flopped back into bed and covered her face with a pillow. This was a nightmare.

“I don’t care who it is, I want the best and I want them now. Do you understand? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a sensitive matter this is.” 

“Yes of course Mr Styles, right away sir.” 

Harry slammed the phone back into it’s receiver, before slumping back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you had told him in his 20s that he would be CEO of the largest company in the world before he turned 30, he would have smirked, tossed back his whiskey and said that sounded about right. Harry was sure in himself and in his abilities. He was brilliant at his job, however, he had learned that being brilliant at his job didn’t come with being a pushover. As a result, he was ruthless, harsh and didn’t have a reputation for being the nicest boss. Everyone was terrified of him and he liked it that way. Harry enjoyed control. He relished it. 

But, if you had told Harry in his 20s that he would be getting a divorce at 35, he would have laughed in your face, in slight disbelief before protesting that he and his wife were as happy as ever, content and in love. He would have said all of that before he walked in on her fucking her pilates instructor in their bed. 

Sofia Styles had dissolved into cries and pleas as Harry calmly ordered the both of them to get out, before resorting to screaming abuse at him when it seemed her begging was falling on deaf ears. She wailed about how he didn’t make time for her, how all they did was argue and how she had needs that Harry wasn’t taking care of. Which was… true. Harry had grown tired of their rather vanilla sex life over a year ago, but Sofia had never been interested in changing up their routine.

Before he had fallen in love with Sofia, Harry was a dominant. He took pleasure in taking control, having women submit themselves to him and writhe beneath him. It was safe, it was consensual, it was fun. God he didn’t remember the last time he had had fun. That side of him had quieted when Sofia had walked into his life. But that wasn’t the point. None of it mattered now.

“Mr Styles? Is everything alright?” His assistant poked her head through the door, shutting it behind her softly as she took in his frazzled state. Harry had hired Nancy a few years ago and despite being in her early 60s, she was the most competent assistant he’d ever had. She was also there for motherly advice whenever he needed it. Nancy knew how difficult it was for Harry to have his mother living so far away, so she made an effort to make sure he was eating well and sleeping enough. 

“I’m fine. It’s just hitting me all at once. I’m tired.”

“It will pass Harry. I know you, you’ll be alright. Mr Horan called to ask how you were… you also have a few meetings this afternoon. The legal department also wanted me to let you know that they’ve found candidates. I think they were… frightened to call you back, so they called me.” Nancy said, a wry smile on her lips. 

Harry gave her a weak smile in return, resting his head in his hands. 

“Tell Niall I’ll call him later and that I’m ok. Cancel the rest of my meetings for today if you don’t mind and tell legal I want to meet them all as soon as possible. Tomorrow if they’re able.” Harry scanned his email for the list of candidates pausing as he read one of the names. 

“I’d like to see the representative from Collins law firm tomorrow too. I’ve heard he’s quite good."

“They’ve already set up a meeting but actually it’s a “her”.” Nancy corrected.

“Huh?” Harry looked up, confusion evident in his features.

“Meet her. The interview is with his assistant, Mr Collins is caught in a family emergency. Y/N Williams, I believe. She’s Robert’s right hand woman and they specialise in this kind of thing, so you’re in good hands.” 

Harry raised a brow. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Don’t scare her away Harry. I know how you can be.” She chided and Harry scoffed.

“That’ll be all thank you Nancy.” 

With a roll of her eyes, the older woman shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind her. 

Harry rubbed his eyes in irritation, resting his head in his palms. It was going to be a long day.

“Your client is WHO?!?”

“Harry Styles, you heard me the first time Lauren, and keep your voice down! I’m not supposed to say anything, it’s all very private and quiet because of who they are. And he isn’t my client yet.” Y/N exclaimed to her best friend.

Lauren had a tendency to get overexcited about things but Y/N had to admit she had butterflies in her stomach about this too. Harry Styles was without a doubt one of the most attractive men she had ever seen and the fact that she was meeting him today had her wrecked with nerves. She was curious as to what had made his marriage fall apart, at least she assumed that’s what she was hired for, given her specialty. Maybe he was bad in bed, but she doubted it. Maybe he cheated on her? Did she cheat on him? Maybe-

“Y/N! I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes what could you possibly be daydreaming about? Mr Styles?” Lauren laughed at the stunned look at Y/N’s face as she came back to earth. 

“I wasn’t daydreaming about him! I was just thinking… I wonder what he’s like.”

“Well you’re not going to find out if we keep talking, you’re going to be late babe, go!” 

So, after a few words of encouragement, Y/N made her way to the meeting, breathing heavily as she pulled into the carpark. 

Styles Incorporated was one of the largest buildings in the city. It had 68 floors, high ceilings and windows that were always shining. Y/N made her way inside, slightly taken aback by the atmosphere. There were hundreds of workers but it was so quiet, almost as though they didn’t dare make a sound. Y/N grimaced at the sound of her heels clicking on the tiles, walking towards reception. 

“Hello, I’m Y/N Williams, I’m here for an interview with Mr Styles.” Y/N said politely, almost in a whisper due to how quiet the building was. 

The woman at the desk peered at her from behind her glasses. 

“He’s expecting you. 68th floor. Glass office, you can’t miss it.” 

“Thank you. Anything I should know before I go in?” Y/N meant it as a joke, simply because she was nervous, but the woman nodded. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t ask any personal questions, and address him as Mr Styles at all times.” 

Y/N blinked in shock, before nodding and walking quickly to the elevator. Her stomach turned as the elevator rose, and she took deep breaths to calm herself down. The woman at the desk in front of the larger office gave her a warm smile as she arrived, telling her to head on through.

Y/N swallowed at the sight of the man behind the desk, plastering a shaky smile on her face and entering through the door. His eyes remained glued to his laptop as she stood timidly in front of him for a few moments before clearing her throat.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mr Styles I’m-“

“Late.” He remarked, eyes still on the screen.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re late, Miss Williams. You’re also not who I was expecting.” He looked up at her for the first time and Y/N was taken aback slightly by his features. He looked as though he had been chiseled from stone, all hard lines and piercing green eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. 

“I don’t mean to be rude but I believe I’m right on time.” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was 10am exactly. 

“Around here, if you aren’t early, you’re late. I’m a busy man Miss Williams, if I’m not punctual everything falls apart. Do you understand?” 

Y/N exhaled softly, observing the rather irritated man in front of her, gathering her thoughts. 

“Of course Mr Styles, I apologise. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I’m sure this is an issue that you’re eager to move quickly through.” Y/N mentally high fived herself as her voice only shook slightly, even if she had basically rehearsed what she was going to say like a script about 10 times on the way over. 

“Take a seat Miss Williams. You look like you’re about to run at any minute and unfortunately for you, I have time.” 

Y/N swallowed before nodding meekly and taking a seat on the other side of his desk. 

“So I thought I would start with why you should hire-“

“Do I frighten you Miss Williams? You look rather frightened.” He cut her off, a small smirk on his face. 

Y/N froze. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry Mr Styles but I don’t think that’s very relevant to what we need to be-“

“I think it’s relevant. I want to know whether I frighten you or whether you just find me so attractive  that you can’t possibly look me in the eye. Maybe it’s both. I tend to have that effect.” He stood, leaning slightly over his desk, towering over her. 

“Mr Styles that isn’t very appropriate. It also seems like a bit of a personal question and I’d like to keep this professional.“

“It might not be appropriate Miss Williams, but I am curious. You intrigue me. And as for professional well… I’m certainly not one to talk about what happens inside my office.” He smirked again and Y/N genuinely thought she was about to combust. The betrayal that she felt from the wetness between her legs was also overwhelming to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore. What he was offering she was unsure but Y/N had a job and Robert trusted her to do well. 

“Ok well let’s talk. How about we start with the reason you and Mrs Styles feel the need for divorce, so I can properly convince you why our firm is what you need.” Y/N could hardly believe she was rejecting whatever was going on and she also couldn’t believe her voice still worked after all of that. 

It was like a switch. One minute he was flirty and suggestive and wildly inappropriate and the next he was dropping back into his chair, the smirk disappearing from his face and instead replaced by a flicker of annoyance and then… sadness? He recovered from his emotive slip quickly and his original stony features were back. It’s a shame, Y/N thought. He’s rather beautiful when he smiles. 

“She cheated on me.” He said bluntly. 

It took everything in Y/N not to react. But it was almost as though he could tell she was trying to control herself. 

“You can laugh. I would. CEO Harry Styles. Has the world at his fingertips and can’t love anyone enough for them to stay.” He laughed bitterly and Y/N almost wished she could give him a hug. 

“That’s… not what I was thinking.”

“No? You feel sorry for me then? It’s usually one of the two. It’s alright Miss Williams, when you get to where I am in the world you soon realise that everyone leaves sooner or later.” Mr Styles raised his eyebrows, seeming slightly taken aback by his own admittance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming need to reassure him that he would be alright. It seemed behind his arrogance and cocky persona, he was just lonely. 

He cleared his throat, his emotionless mask returning as he checked his watch before looking up at the ceiling and rolling his eyes.

“You have… about a minute of my time remaining before I have other things to be doing. I’ve seen five other candidates today and they were all spectacularly mediocre. So, convince me.”

Y/N hushed the little voice inside that wanted to scream about how he had done most of the talking. Instead, she took a deep breath and explained their plan, just as she had rehearsed in the mirror that morning. She said most of it with her eyes cast downward and when she was finished she raised her gaze slowly, noting the small smirk on his face. 

“Ok. You’re hired.” Mr Styles stood abruptly, ignoring the look of shock that flittered across Y/N’s face. Hired? Just like that?”

“Oh really? Well thank you Mr Styles, I’m sure Mr Collins will be in touch.” Y/N gathered her things, slightly relieved to be escaping from the confines of his office. 

“Hired on one condition. We win and you go out to lunch with me.” It wasn’t a request. More of a statement. 

Y/N’s cheeks flamed as she struggled to compose herself. 

“Mr Styles I really don’t think that’s appr-“

“I don’t really care what-“

“Would you stop cutting me off?! For goodness sake let me speak!” Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, stopping short at the look on his face. 

“Oh my goodness Mr Styles I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it. Sometimes my mouth starts working before my brain.” Y/N was aware she was rambling but she couldn’t help it. She’d blown the deal, she must have. 

His signature smirk reappeared and Y/N’s shoulder’s relaxed slightly. 

“Don’t apologise Miss Williams. I was riling you up. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Do we have a deal?”

Y/N hesitated before thinking back to Robert’s text. Do whatever it takes. 

“Ok. I’ll… go to lunch with you if we win.”

“Wonderful. When we win you mean. Now I hate to cut this short darling but I really do have places to be. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, tell Robert to give me a call ok?”

With that, he ushered her out the door, closing it behind her. Y/N stood, frozen for a moment before making her way slowly to the elevator. 

What was that?

Harry chuckled to himself as he watched her through the glass walls of his office, talking to herself quietly as she waited for the elevator, cheeks flaming. He got a kick out of making her so nervous, it did great things for his ego. He wasn’t lying, she did intrigue him and if he could convince her, she seemed like the perfect distraction to get his mind off things and a distraction was exactly what he needed right now.

Read Part II here

A/N: So this is part one!! What do you guys think so far? It’s certainly going to get exciting in the next chapter! Thank you for reading xo Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994

[lunarfleur]

My I Love You ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @gloomyluvr @hiyaitssans

Warnings: None except for slight cursing!

A/N:I got this wonderful idea from @/gloomyluvr. I just love this sm

This is x gender neutral reader!

Miles was so warm.

That’s the only thing you could think about. He generated heat like the sun, his skin a firey blanket you knew he would only let you enjoy. It was soothing you, but you didn’t even know you needed soothing.

Miles was a different kind of gentle with you, a sweet kind of soft you hadn’t even known possible. You’d seen him be kind to his mom-who he loved so dearly-but even with her you would find his typical teenage pride held off his affection. He didn’t seem as ashamed with you.

You sat in his room quietly, his arm keeping you tucked closely against his body. Even through his clothes, his warmth spread over your skin like a disease. His cheek sat gently on the top of your head, his free hand sitting behind his own. His door was cracked open, leaving a single sliver of light sitting against his otherwise dark room, at the request of his mother.

Footloose played in front of you, his laptop sitting on his thighs, covered in his comfiest black sweatpants. His fingers played with the hem of your t-shirt sleeve. The fabric pushed and pulled against your skin.

Looking at him, you hummed. He was pretty. Very pretty. The light that came from the hallway made his rich skin shine. The specks of green in his eyes glowed. His nose sat so nicely against his face. His jaw, even when slacked or relaxed, was tight and firm.

Noticing your eyes, Miles glanced at you. A small smirk grew on his lips.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked. You shook your head. His fingers danced across the skin of your arm softly.

But even when you forced your attention back to the movie in front of you, Miles’s eyes didn’t leave you. It was a solid 2 minutes before he realized he was even doing it.

He tapped you gently on the shoulder, sitting up straight. You expected him to pause the movie, to get up to use the restroom. But he instead slid his hands up from your neck to the sides of your face.

“Tell me to stop?” He whispered. But it wasn’t a demand, nor was it a threat. It was suggestion, an invitation.

You shook your head, and Miles leaned in slowly. His lips only ghosted yours until you moved into his touch. You felt him tense, his shoulders straightening, then his whole body relaxed altogether.

Once you pulled away, eyes opening, he sat in front of you. His eyes remained closed. His lips pressed tightly into a firm line. They opened slowly.

“Everything okay?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I just,” Miles hesitated. “I just really…love you.”

Fuck. That was new.

You had said it a few times before, as a goodbye when hanging up the phone or parting for the night. He’d leave you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth, but always resorted to avoiding the phrase altogether. It was out of fear on his part.

A part of Miles told him that those three words were a jinx, that if you said them it automatically meant things weren’t going to last; that something would go wrong. Every relationship his uncle ever had ended quickly and his father had died. His mother was left heartbroken. That was proof enough, right?

‘Our family doesn’t run from things, mijo,’ his mother had always said.

So he sat before you, watching the way your eyebrows raised. He could have sworn your eyes were glowing.

You leaned forward, fingers intertwining with his. You leaned back against the pillows, pulling him back with you.

“I love you, too.”

He released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding and leaned back. His arm snaked back around your shoulder, this time your hand grabbed onto his. His weight pressed against you, heavier this time. His eyes stared at the side of your face.

Looking over at him, you were quick to give him a reassuring smile. You knew it was hard for him, but God did it make you feel good.

He smiled back at you, a sight you knew he’d only let you enjoy, before firmly pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.