#everything its so slept on as a b side

[vivwritescrappythings]

set me on fire, i'll keep you warm

alpha!joel miller x omega!f!reader

part 2

You get stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm for longer than you anticipated.

an: this is my first a/b/o fic so it is probably weird and awkward, but i'm trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and write different styles of relationships!

tw: a/b/o/ dynamics, afab reader, fem reader, alpha joel, omega reader, marijuana use, joel is mean, angst, comfort, SMUT, this is an a/b/o fic so everything associated with that is included (knotting, mating cycles, heat, claiming bites, scenting), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, masturbation, dubcon

word count: 12.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

--

The night outside the cabin was quiet, the snow drifting down in the dim light of the backlit clouds. It was too late to be sitting outside like this, letting the cool air wash over you in an attempt to rid yourself of your bad dreams. Dark circles were stamped under your eyes as you self medicated, the deep skunky scent of weed wafting from your lips and into the evening. 

Nightmares were a fairly common side effect of the apocalypse, so you didn’t bother with waking up Joel as you snuck past the couch he slept on. You’d be waking Joel up every night if you did that.

“What are you doing?” The groggy voice behind you made you jump. Apparently tonight you had.

Joel’s voice startled you, nearly making you drop the joint as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your face already felt warm from your embarrassment at getting caught, the incriminating joint still between your fingers. The smoke curled around the two of you, drifting into the open door of the cabin. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, looking up at the alpha as he stood in the doorway. You had the collar of his thick, canvas hunting jacket turned up high to cover your scent glands, his smell strong enough to cover yours. It wouldn’t be smart to broadcast to anyone nearby that you were an unbonded omega. 

Joel’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, illuminated by the crisp night. You knew the jacket swamped over you, the sleeves pushed up to expose your hands and the excess tucked beneath you as you sat. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, studying your exhausted expression with a touch of concern.

“Mhm, I can see that,” he drawled, his eyes flicking down to the joint in your hand. “You smokin' again?”

Your gaze subconsciously darted down to where his biceps bulged under his flannel. You swallowed thickly, looking back up at his shadowed eyes. “Just so I can fall asleep,” you mumbled, feeling like a teenager who’d just been caught by their dad. You took another greedy puff off the joint before he could say anything else, putting it out against the porch railing before tucking it into a rusty Altoids tin from which it came and into your pocket. 

You exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as you stood, crossing the porch in just your socks and ducking past Joel inside the house. “Made sure your jacket covered my scent and everything, didn’t want any passers by to smell me,” you murmured as you squeezed by him. You smelled like weed and like Joel, the sweet scent that lingered on your skin only detectable if you got close.

The sound of Joel inhaling as you walked past him was audible, as if he was testing your method and making sure he couldn’t pick up your scent. You glanced up at him to see his nostrils flare before he schooled his face into a neutral expression.

He followed you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. "You know that stuff ain't good for you," he said gruffly, his eyes following your every movement.

You were shrugging his jacket off, hanging it back up on the hook next to yours. Your sweater was threadbare, on its last leg before you’d have to look for a new one in an abandoned house or store. “I know, Joel,” you murmured softly, brushing a hand over your face. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your freezing hands into your armpits.

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy, the buzz of being stoned making your movements more languid. “Only do it sometimes, just when I can’t sleep,” you said, trying to assure the alpha across from you.

Joel's expression softened at your words, but still, a hint of concern etched his features. The set of his jaw told you he knew what these sleepless nights did to you; the bags under your eyes and the fatigue in your movements didn't escape his notice. 

"Sometimes is too much," he rumbled, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently brushing an errant snowflake off your face, his touch tender despite the roughness of his hands. You closed your eyes at the contact, his skin rough against yours before he pulled away. 

"If you can't sleep, you should come to me. You know that, right?"

“Joel, s’okay, it doesn’t happen very often,” you murmured, stubborn as always. 

You knew Joel could help you sleep in an instant, all it would take is you crawling on the couch with him and pressing your nose against his scent gland. It was one of the easiest parts of being an omega with an alpha around. But, you were stubborn to a fault.

The corners of his mouth tightened, and he let out a low growl. "I don't care if it's once in a blue moon or every goddamn night," he snapped. "You need to start relying on me more. I don’t know why you gotta deny your nature and act like you’re so goddamn tough. Stop being so damn independent all the damn time."

You huffed, not letting Joel sway you. His frustration was obvious, you could smell it mixing with the musk of his scent. “You wouldn’t say that to me if I was an alpha or a beta,” you bite back, brow furrowing. It was rare that Joel got mad at you like this–especially over something as stupid as being hard-headed. You’d been that way the whole time he knew you: an omega fighting her designation.

The day you presented as an omega you cried yourself sick. It was like your life had ended, every opportunity seemingly disappearing in an already difficult world after the outbreak. You were hellbent on proving yourself to be worth more.

Joel's jaw tightened as his eyes flashed darkly at your words. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was towering over you. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked softly, the sneer apparent in his voice. "It's different for you. You're an omega."

Your throat tightened, frustration cutting through the relaxed haze of your high. “If you don’t trust me to take care of myself, Joel, why did you take me on as your patrol partner?” you hissed, staring up into his gaze defiantly. You were starting to get emotional, tears stinging at the backs of your eyes as you tried to suppress them. Joel stood over a head taller than you, glaring down his aquiline nose at you as you argued.

His scent was strong in the small hallway, his chest puffing up as he cornered you near the wall. His arm shot out, palm pressing to the dilapidated wood paneling near your head.

"I brought you because I trust you to shoot straight," he retorted, his voice rough. "Not because I think you can handle yourself on your own!"

His words made you flinch, the hurt clear on your face. Your mind was reeling, struggling to process what he said as you balked at him. It dawned on you how stupid it was to think an alpha would trust you. To them, you’d never be more than just an omega even if you pushed yourself to the brink. 

You didn’t give him an answer, slipping under his arm and heading to the small bedroom you occupied at the back of the house. Everything in you was screaming to hide, to make yourself small. Distress scent was already pouring off of you in waves, leaving the air bitter as you tried to hold the tears threatening to spill until you got behind the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it.

—

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up, just that there was light streaming in through the aged blinds covering the window. The fire in your room must have gone out when you slept, the air was frigid as you sat up in bed. Peeking out the frosted glass revealed there was more snow on the ground than when you fell asleep—meaning another day of holing up in the cabin until it passed.

You had half the mind to hide in your room all day, not wanting to face Joel after last night. You cried yourself to sleep, betrayal weighing heavy on your heart. You still felt the sting of it, part of you wondering if he even respected you as a teammate or just thought you were a pathetic, bumbling omega he got stuck with. 

If it wasn’t for your stomach growling, you probably would have stayed in hiding.

The door to the room creaked when you opened it, deciding to venture out to get water and something to settle your upset stomach. The light was dim out in the rest of the cabin, the dying embers of the fire casting an orange glow across everything. Joel was a lump on the couch, but you couldn’t tell if he was awake.

Joel hardly slept, guilt and worry gnawing at his gut. He had tossed and turned on the couch all night, listening to the sound of your sobs through the door until you finally fell asleep. If he could go back and take it all back, he would in a heartbeat.

It wasn't the creaking of the floorboards that woke Joel, but the faint scent of a distressed omega. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to see you quietly entering the kitchen. He watched you in silence, guilt-stricken features as he studied your careful movements. As he slowly rose from the couch, moving towards the kitchen in a silent prowl, his eyes never left you.

“You're not gonna eat just jerky all day, are you?" he asked gruffly, leaning against the kitchen door frame. You were gnawing on a piece of it, staring out the bay window over the sink in the long-abandoned kitchen.

In your haze, Joel managed to surprise you. You yelped at the sound of his deep voice, spinning around and falling back against the kitchen counter. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you said, finding your footing again. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned to look out the front window at the snowy landscape surrounding the cabin. “Just about gave me a heart attack.”

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Joel's lips as he watched you jump, a low, raspy chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Sorry 'bout that," he drawled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes followed your gaze out to the window, the snow falling silently outside.

You didn’t know what to say to him, your chapped lips pursed as the two of you stared at one another. He looked worse for wear, his dark hair was sticking up in every direction, his under eyes so dark they almost looked bruised.

He cleared his throat, the silence between you two deafening. "Can we talk?" he asked. He cringed at his own question, knowing that of course he wanted to talk, he knew he had to talk. He just didn't know how to start. He reached out towards you, but stopped himself halfway, his hand dropping limply to his side 

You sniffled, running a hand over your face as you took a deep breath. “What if I said no?” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. The smell of your distress was all too clear, the acrid scent of it covering your normal honeyed-earth smell. 

"Please."

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. The pleading tone in his voice surprised him, and he knew it surprised you too. He was an alpha, a strong and powerful one at that, he didn't beg.

But as he looked at you, at your exhausted frame and red-rimmed eyes, he didn't care. He'd beg for your forgiveness a thousand times if he had to. Crawl to you on his knees. It pained him to see you like this. Especially when it was his fault.

The sound of Joel’s deep, twangy, Texas-accented voice begging made one of your eyebrows arch. He never begged, he never had to before. Not alphas like him. You sighed, hazel eyes darting to look out the window over the kitchen sink at the snow. “I’m listening,” you mumbled.

Joel let out a breath through his nose, his heart rate returning to normal. At least you were giving him the chance to explain.

The only sound in the room while Joel put his words together was the floor creaking beneath you as you turned to face him again, watching his coffee-colored eyes nervously flit up to yours. It was times like this that made it hard to believe Joel was the alpha and you were the omega, when he’d snap and then come running back to you with his tail between his legs like a kicked puppy.

You used your arms to boost yourself onto the counter, feet dangling off as you settled on the cool tile. You were nearly Joel’s height this way, leveling the playing field a bit by making him look straight at you. You pulled a knee up to your chest, the other leg still hanging down as you mashed your cheek against your kneecap.

He took a step closer, standing in front of your bent leg now as he looked at you. His rugged features softened as he spoke, his voice gruff. "Look...what I said last night," he began, "It was really shitty, and I didn’t mean it, and I'm sorry."

He reached out, calloused fingers gently wrapping around your ankle, giving it a squeeze. "I just... I worry about you, that's all." His thumb pressed the wonky stick and poke tattoo of the omega symbol on the inside of your ankle. You’d given it to yourself when you were seventeen, some rebellious act of reclaiming your identity. Now it was just a faded memory of growing up in a quarantine zone.

Joel always had a hard time with words, expressing himself more through actions than any alpha you’d ever seen. You rarely shied away from his touches, coming to expect them over the past year the two of you had been assigned together as patrol partners. 

You sighed, blowing air out through your nose as your head tilted. Joel stood close to you, your hanging calf pressed along his thigh as you met his gaze. “I know you worry, Joel,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “But you gotta treat me like a teammate, not like you’re my babysitter.”

He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting to the ground and then back up to you. "I never meant to make you feel like you were just some object, or incompetent. I just…” he sighs, struggling to find the right words. “You make me so damn frustrated sometimes."

You huffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get to try to justify it, Joel,” you said, an exasperated tone in your voice. Of course he’d qualify it, find it wasn’t entirely his fault. “You reduced me to an incompetent partner, useless. Just an object for breeding,” you whispered, your glare hard. “Felt like you had no respect for me unless I was bending over for you and letting you fuck me.”

Joel bristled at the words, the sting of them hurting almost as much as the pain on your face. He clenched his hands into fists, his whole body tensing with the effort to keep the need to comfort you under control.

He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on you. "I do respect you, dammit," he growled. "You don't think I don't admire how strong and independent you are? If I didn't respect you and trust you to have my back, I would have found a new partner a long time ago."

“You said all I was good for was shooting straight, Joel,” you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. You worried your lower lip with your teeth, fingers tapping nervously against your bent leg. It felt like you were going against your DNA, standing up to Joel like this.

Joel ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions sinking in. He knew you were right. He knew he had crossed a line.

"You're right, it was unfair," he said, his eyes darting to the floor. "I was just frustrated, I was worried about you. This job, it's dangerous, and you've got such a damn stubborn, independent streak. You never ask for help, and I always worry I'm gonna wake up one day and find you not there, and it’ll be my fault for not being fast enough."

You huff, your expression softening slightly at Joel’s confession. You knew he was dealing with his own demons, his own reasons to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He was still standing between your legs, fingers looped around your ankle. “Joel,” you murmured, “I’m not running away or anything, I just was smoking a joint to help myself sleep.”

Joel looked up at you when you spoke, his gaze lifting from the faded tattoo. He hated how defeated he felt, and he hated how hurt you looked.

"Damnit, you don't need to do that. Why can't you just come to me when you can't sleep, and I can help you sleep the right way?" he sighed, moving in closer.

His frustration made you even more angry. “Fuck, Joel. Does the sleeping thing really bother you that much?” you huffed, moving further back from him on the counter and turning to look out the window. You felt queasy, chewing over the idea of telling him a bit of the truth. You decided to go for it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never scented an alpha before.”

The wind against the side of the cabin was the only thing filling the silence. Most omegas got scenting partners out of the way when they were teenagers, exploring their desires and learning what they liked in a mate. But you were in your late twenties and never tried any of it because you were too busy fighting your designation. You didn’t want any part of being an omega, even if that meant not experiencing things.

You didn’t even know what you were doing—didn’t even know where to start.

Joel's eyes widened when you confessed that you had never scented an alpha before. The revelation took him aback, making his breath hitch in his chest. His mind went through a whirlwind of thought, the realization that he would be your first alpha to scent you hitting him like a truck. He can hardly consider the fact that it was contingent on if you let him. 

His omega had never scented an alpha before. The possessive instincts within him roared to life, clawing at the edges of his mind. No, you’re not his. He needed to stop thinking that.

"You never-" he began, his voice rough and strained. "You never scented anyone?"

Your cheeks erupted with warmth, embarrassment rocking through you. You ended up covering your face with your palms, not wanting Joel to look at you. “I’ve scented other omegas… betas.” It felt too submissive, too docile. You didn’t want to be like other omegas you saw in the quarantine zone and Jackson—stuck bending to their alphas’ every whim, you wanted to be free.

“So don’t get so offended that I haven’t scented you, it’s not personal.”

Joel's jaw dropped at your confession, his mind spinning. He had known you were stubborn and independent, but this? He had never heard of an omega not scenting anyone by the time they were out of their teenage years.

The way you covered your face, the smell of your embarrassment and shyness filling the air, made something primal stir in his chest. The thought of no other alpha ever having the opportunity to even scent you was both thrilling and infuriating.

“I just wanted someone to treat me like their equal,” you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest. It was hard for you to let the silence exist between you, always filling it. You had to move from the weight of Joel’s surprised gaze, making you turn to the window and stare out of it. The snow was so heavy outside the cabin that you could hardly see the trees. “I would do it, I just don’t want to become someone’s property. Which I know scenting is really different and far from mating and being claimed but it feels like the first step.”

Joel's heart ached as you spoke. He knew you wanted equality and respect, something he always thought you deserved. But to know that you had never allowed yourself to feel comforts like being scented because of fear of being treated like property was something he hadn't realized.

He leaned towards you, trying to see your eyes. "You know I wouldn't treat you like that, right? I would never make you feel less than an equal just because you're an omega," he said, his voice low and gentle.

“You tried to last night,” you mumbled, still facing away from Joel. You leaned your forehead against the window, the glass cool against your skin. That was what made it so difficult, you couldn’t forget the tone Joel spoke to you with—it was the same tone that alphas used to force omegas to submit. It rattled you.

Joel clenched his jaw at your words, guilt bubbling up in his chest again. He knew you were right, that he had tried to reduce you to just your designation, that he had spoken to you in the way that made most omegas crumble.

He moved closer, close enough that he could smell the sour scent of your distress again. Everything at him was screaming to make it better, to fix it.

"You’re right,” he admitted. “I was a dick, and I hurt you. I won’t do it again. I swear on Ellie’s life."

You felt warmth radiating off him and onto your back. “You really scared me, Joel,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you spoke. That was the truth of it, he scared you last night. “I know you can overpower me in a second if you wanted to—I really have to trust you not to. My life is in your hands.”

As you spoke, Joel’s heart ached. He knew you were right. You were strong and fierce, but he was an alpha, and he could overpower you in a heartbeat if he wanted to. He gently squeezed your ankle, tugging on it. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to press himself against you.

“I know, I know I did. I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, the nickname coming out before he could stop himself.

You sniffled, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know what to do, anxiety binding your chest in knots. Joel stood close to you, nearly touching your back as his hand flattened against the porcelain countertop. “Alphas don’t have to think about that kind of stuff, ya know? You don’t have to constantly worry about it. You could be alone for your whole life and it wouldn’t be a problem, it’s not the same for omegas.” 

Your forehead was still pressed against the window pane, your body curling up to make you small. “Don’t gotta worry about an alpha forcing a claim on you, or killing you if you refuse. I’ve got to think about it all the time, even in Jackson. And then you wonder why I hate being an omega.”

Pain and sadness wrenched in Joel's chest as you spoke, his heart breaking at the vulnerability in your voice. He knew you were right—alphas didn't have the same worries and fears that you did.

He closed the distance between you, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned over the counter. He could feel the tremors in your body, and he desperately wanted to fix it, to make it better, to take your pain away.

"I know, baby," he murmured again, hooking his chin on your shoulder. The wiry strands of his beard curled against the collar of your sweater. "I know."

There was something in his solemn tone that made you break, a pathetic whimper rocking out of you before you could stifle it. He sounded so small, you never heard him sound like that before. It cracked a hole in your defenses just enough for the whole structure to come crumbling down.

You let out a sob, turning against Joel until you could bury your face in his chest. You cried into his flannel, fingers twisting in the well-worn material. He was still your person, your best friend in the whole world. You always turned to him.

Joel's heart ached as you buried your face into his chest. He could feel your tears soaking into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.

He held you tightly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He gently guided your head to rest against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," he whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Wanted to take it all back the second I said it, I was such an asshole."

You didn’t know how long you cried for, clinging to Joel like a life preserver in a storm. He held you close, his calloused fingers tangling in your hair and his chin resting on the crown of your head. You inhaled his scent from him, the deep, musky smell of an alpha, mixed with a spicy scent that was entirely Joel’s. 

Joel held you through your tears, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. He inhaled deeply, his nose buried in your hair, the scent of your distress beginning to fade and be replaced by a more familiar honeyed earth scent.

It took you a while to calm down, making you hiccup as your tears eventually ran dry. His shirt was soaked with them, but he didn't care. He just wanted you to feel better, he wanted to fix whatever he had broken.

"You all cried out, darlin'?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle.

You nodded against Joel, sniffling still. “I know you’re sorry, Joel,” you mumbled, your voice soft and thick from crying. You still held onto him, face pressed into his sternum.

Joel's heart clenched at your mumbled words, his hold on you tightening slightly. "I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby," he said, his own voice rough with emotion. He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. Your body was pressed against him, warm and soft.

Joel’s voice sounded thick, his Texan drawl heavier. You just held on, trying to catch your breath. The wind sounded louder outside, buffeting against the roof and filling the silence between you two.

Your distress scent faded, only leaving your cloyingly sweet smell behind. Joel took another breath, inhaling. It was intoxicating, the way you smelled. Almost honeyed earth after a heavy rain, it was addictive. He always had a hard time focusing when he was close to you like this.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on you and you only. He continued to hold you, his fingers still running through your hair. "Feeling better, darlin'?"

You nodded, pulling away slightly. You wiped your face off, your skin damp from your crying. “Yeah, I’m better,” you whispered. You looked up at Joel for a moment, your eyes bloodshot and watery. 

Joel's eyes roamed over your face, taking in your puffy eyes and running nose and swollen lips. You looked beautiful even when you had been crying, and it took all of his self-restraint not to pull you back against him again.

He nodded, his thumb coming up to lightly trace your wet cheeks, wiping away a few remaining tears. "I’m glad, darlin'," he murmured, his eyes not leaving yours.

Your lips were pursed thoughtfully, considering. “So you’ll start trusting me to handle myself?” you asked, trying to negotiate. “And I’ll rely on my instincts more,” you offered, still whispering. “Alright?”

Joel's heart was pounding in his chest as he held your ankle, his thumb rubbing over the faded tattoo there. He knew you were right, that he often let his protectiveness get the best of him when it came to you. He wanted to keep you safe at all costs, but sometimes in his efforts, he ended up stifling you.

He exhaled deeply, feeling the guilt and the weight of his actions settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew he would agree to anything you asked. "I will, but you have no idea how hard it is," he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

You nodded, tears still burning in your eyes. You needed him to agree, or this wouldn’t work. “Joel, should we change patrol partners?” you asked, tilting your head. You didn’t want to, but it also wasn’t safe for him to constantly put himself in harm’s way for you. “Someone easier for you to be around might be better. And I need someone who trusts me.”

Joel's stomach lurched at your question, the thought of being paired with someone other than you making his blood run cold. "No," he growled, his hand tightening around your ankle reflexively. "No. We're not changing partners."

He stepped even closer to you, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't want anyone else. I don't want you paired with anyone else. It's you and me," he insisted, his voice firm.

Joel crowded in close, pulling you toward the edge of the counter. Your knee pressed against his waist, his belt warm through the hole in the knee of your sweatpants. You clicked your tongue softly, your small hand smoothing along the back of his larger one. “S’okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, making sure he looked you in the eye. “You and me. Just gotta start trusting me.”

Joel's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body as he heard your reassurance. The feel of your hand against his, the way your knee rested against his hip, it grounded him, reminded him of what was important.

“I trust ya.” He leaned in even closer, resting his forehead against yours. "You and me," he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "Always."

He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, honeyed scent of you. It filled his senses, calming his nerves.

You basked in the closeness for a moment, letting your eyes slip shut as you inhaled his deep, heady musk of him. It felt resolved for now. “Alright big guy, let’s make some food,” you said, lightly patting Joel’s stomach with a hand before you twisted around him off the counter in the kitchen.

Being outside of Jackson made you miss electricity. Thankfully you knew there was a chance that there would be a storm during the scouting run, packing the truck with extra food and firewood that had now come in handy. 

But, neither of you realized the storm would last for so long. It was three days that you two were stuck in the cabin, watching as the snow piled higher and higher. You weren’t waiting for it to melt, just to stop coming down so Joel could see your way out without crashing into a tree or a boulder.

You cracked two cans of Chef Boyardee that Joel found in one of the houses you picked through, setting them in the fireplace to warm as you sat cross-legged on the rug in front of it.

Joel was moving around behind you, the springs of the couch squealing as he sat on them. His gaze made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. But, he stayed silent—typical behavior for him. 

You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was already nearing three in the afternoon. You must have slept in later than you expected, most of the day already having gone by. Honestly, it was better that way, you and Joel were starting to get a bit of cabin fever.

Silence permeated the room, brightly patterned oven mitts you found in a drawer covering your hands as you scarfed down the food. “So you used to buy this stuff at like, the store?” you asked, finally breaking the quiet as you turned to look at Joel.

You were little when the outbreak started, you didn’t remember much of what life was like before. It was normal for you to ask him things. Joel felt like a bridge to a different time.

It always caught him off guard when you asked about life before the outbreak—he couldn’t help but forget how young you were compared to him. He nodded as he chewed, glancing up to see you backlit by the fire. It made you look like you had a gold light surrounding you.

“Yeah, we used to buy everything at grocery stores,” he said, clearing his throat a bit as he talked. “There was more food than you could imagine, really, there was too much. A lot of it got thrown away.”

You listened with rapt attention, chewing the ravioli thoroughly. You really couldn’t imagine such abundance—even in Jackson everything was grown and made to satisfy the needs of a few seasons. Nothing ever went to waste, though. 

“That sounds like a dream,” you said softly, finishing your food. You stretched out on your back on the rug, the fire warming your side as you got comfortable. 

“These days it seems like one,” he mumbled, the sound of his spoon scraping the can filling the room. He couldn’t look at you directly, it felt like he was staring at the sun. It was hard not to go to you. His palms itched with the need to feel your fire-warmed skin beneath them. 

Joel got up sharply, running his fingers through his hair as he looked out the window. “M’gonna go hunting before it gets too dark out,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he walked away from you.

You hummed your acknowledgment, watching Joel pull on his gloves and his jacket and sling his rifle over his shoulder. He smelled the collar of the coat, your scent probably lingered from when you’d borrowed it last night.

“Be careful,” you murmured, watching Joel from where you lay. You wanted to get up, go adjust his jacket and the twisted strap of his rifle. But you stayed where you were.

“Always am,” he said, giving you a once-over before heading out the front door and into the snow. 

You busied yourself with melting snow to fill the big plastic bin Joel had dragged inside from the truck, cleaning the guns and mending some clothes with a needle and thread. Normally you’d go hunting with Joel, but you could tell he needed space for a bit. 

The cold woke him up, made him feel like he finally got his head out of water. Being stuck in that cabin with you—with your smell—was driving him crazy. The two of you spent a lot of time together, but it normally was outside. This was the first time you’d been smashed together in close quarters for more than a day. 

It was making him lose his mind.

He’d rather be shot than admit it, but he spent the first ten minutes of his hunting trip holding the collar of his jacket to his nose and fisting his cock. As soon as he realized he could smell you on the canvas, he’d been hard as a rock. 

Joel never met an omega whose scent got to him as much as yours.

He held the aging fabric in a fist to his face as he stroked up and down his shaft. His eyes were screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard it ached. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine that his spit-slicked hand was yours, the image of you stretched out on the rug stuck in his mind. The fire illuminated the contours of your body, highlighting the swell of your breasts and the indent of your waist.

It wasn’t the first time he fantasized about you. It started with a dream of you crawling into his sleeping bag while you were out on a scouting mission, pressing up close and nuzzling into him like you were his, whispering everything you wanted him to do to you in his ear. 

He woke up from that painfully hard, thankful that he was in the safety of his bedroom in Jackson rather than with you. But it spiraled viciously from there—even if he didn’t start off thinking of you, he would certainly get there eventually. Knotting you, biting you, fucking you. It all lived in his head. 

Joel groaned, biting down on his lower lip as his cum spilled onto the snow. The tree he was leaning against was rough on the back of his head as he slumped a bit, taking deep breaths. It took him a few moments for the ringing in his ears to stop, head finally clearing as he tucked himself back into his pants. 

With the edge taken off he readied himself, wiping the sweat off his forehead before grabbing his rifle off his shoulder. There was always some level of shame he felt after he jerked off to the thought of you, knowing he’d have to face you again and pretend nothing was amiss. 

The wind howled as he walked deeper into the forest, pushing his thoughts aside as he started to look for any semblance of tracks in the snow.

—

The rabbit Joel killed was a decent enough dinner with the dried soup you brought from Jackson, the meal rich enough to lull you both into silence as you thumbed through old paperback books you found in a closet. 

It was long dark when you told Joel you’d be going to bed, wishing him goodnight as you made your way to the bedroom. You were tired enough to fall asleep with little fuss, curling into the thick quilt and going unconscious almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

But, of course, you didn’t stay that way. 

Screams filled the space around you. You were unseeing, choking on thick smoke. Opening your mouth to speak only resulted in a scream, the sound ragged and desperate. You could hear gunfire in the distance, but you didn’t know which way to look.

You were alone in this place, that much you could tell. The air was thick and warm—smelled like the omega shelter back in Vegas, you spent two years there. You reached out ahead of you into the darkness, hoping to find a wall or furniture or something. But it was empty, each step further into the black maw that seemed to have no ending. 

The sound of clicking made your hair stand on end. You were all-too familiar with that sound, the labored breathing of an infected following it. You didn’t know which way to move, the clicking was directionless. There were no weapons, no way to run. 

Clicking filled your ears, directly on top of you. Teeth tore into your flesh, ripping into your arm as—

You woke with a jolt, eyes wide in the darkness as you let out a choked gasp. Screaming still haunted the back of your mind as you sat up, trembling hands running over your face as you tried to enter the world of the living.

Your nightmares were relentless, memories of the fall of the Las Vegas QZ still fresh in your mind despite it happening a decade ago. The explosions that brought the walls down, the influx of raiders and infected alike. The smell of smoke and burning flesh and hair made you choke, forcing you out of bed as you fumbled for your Altoid’s tin on the nightstand.

Joel was asleep when you crept through the living room, good ear pressed into the cushion of the couch as you tiptoed past. The night was cold, Joel’s jacket back on your shoulders as you looked off the porch and pinched the joint between shivering fingers.

It stopped snowing, at least. The sky was cloudy, the moon peaking through sections of the clouds and making the snowy landscape glitter like diamonds. You and Joel would be able to leave in the morning.

A gust of wind made you shudder, the joint slipping from your fingers. It was a scramble to catch it, sending you to your knees. The wooden boards creaked as you tried to grab the remainder of your joint as it rolled. Your fingers just barely missed it, clutching the empty air as you watched it fall through a crack in the floorboards and disappear.

“Fuck!” you groaned, sitting back on your heels. You’d be awake the rest of the night, still feeling edgy and paranoid from your nightmare. You dragged your hands over your face, exasperated.

You headed inside, defeated. Joel’s jacket was returned to its hook as you looked at the way the fire lit up the room orange. The shadows flickered along the walls, sending shivers down your spine as you remembered waking up to the same glow in Las Vegas.

Then your gaze landed on Joel, still comfortably sleeping on the couch. One leg hung off, planted against the floor as his other foot was far over the edge—he was far too tall to be sleeping on the sofa.

You paused, chewing your lip as you stared at him. If you swallowed your pride, you’d be able to sleep tonight. 

It was a hard thing, letting go of your fears. You realized if there was ever an alpha you’d bend to, it would be Joel. Something about him made you trust him, even when he was harsh and rude and distant, you still knew him inside out. 

Part of you knew he was yours, even if you wouldn’t admit it. It was the talk of Jackson, Joel panting at the heels of some young omega like a lost puppy—you heard the whispers. 

You decided to give him a chance.

He didn’t stir as you approached, wondering if you should wake him up or just clamber onto him. The couch was already cramped enough with just him on it.

You tentatively reached out to shake his arm, Joel’s dark eyes opening almost as soon as you touched him. He sat up fast, looking ready to fight as his gaze took in every inch of the cabin. You yelped softly, moving back from him in surprise.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice thick and raspy from sleep as he started to get up. 

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted sheepishly, wringing your hands together in front of you. You felt silly asking him after everything that had happened between you two, but you promised him you’d follow your instincts more. His muscles tensed, you didn’t mean to cause such a commotion, your heart in your throat. “It’s stupid… I-I can figure it out.”

Joel relaxed, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he processed what you said. Your concern made him smile softly, a hand reaching out to curl around your shoulder. “Want me to help you sleep?” he asked, voice low. He treated you carefully, not wanting to scare you off. 

He was honored you were even willing to ask.

You huffed softly, brows furrowing as you nodded. His grin stretched, heart thumping with excitement as he obliged you. He was relieved you were asking, wanting to be a good alpha for you. Wanting to help you. “We can stay out here or go to the bed, up to you, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes focused on you as you considered. 

“The bed,” you mumbled, turning with little fanfare. Joel followed hot on your heels, warm at your back. You were anxious, breaths short and shallow as you tried to calm down. 

It was no big deal. It was just Joel. Your Joel.

You got in first, curling beneath the bedding as you turned to look up at Joel. He was toeing off his heavy boots and taking off his belt, shining orange and yellow in the dim firelight. He looked formidable from this angle, tall and broad like most alphas were.

“You alright?” Joel asked, noticing the trepidation in your gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the old quilt as he leaned a bit toward you. “I can go back to the couch. Don’t want you to feel pressured—I won’t do nothing you don’t want to do.”

You hummed, nodding. “It’s just sleeping, right?” you whispered softly. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at Joel, laying back on the pillow. 

He nodded. “As easy as closing your eyes,” he assured, his drawl thick. 

You couldn’t imagine the luxury of sleep coming so easy, but you nodded anyway. Joel clambered into bed with you, sliding beneath the covers with a sigh of relief. You were sure it felt better on his back than the couch, watching him stretch as he settled next to you.

“Just gotta come here,” he said, looking over at you. You looked so sweet in the dim light, eyes wide and lips parted. He wanted to reach out and pull you over himself, instead he dropped his hand, fingers tapping the top of the comforter in anticipation.

You acquiesced, scooting over to meld into his side. His arm curled around you, occupying the void between your neck and shoulder. Joel was so warm, it felt like you were cuddling with a space heater as you settled into him. His big hand pressed between your shoulder blades, rolling you toward him and tucking your face into his throat.

It was so easy to get comfortable, melting into him as you took in a deep breath. You always thought he smelled so comforting, warm and a little musky. You only ever caught his scent in passing, never concentrated like this.

Joel felt how you relaxed against him, a smile on his face as one of your arms stretched across his chest and your nose pressed into the hollow of his throat. It took you a few deep breaths to completely let go of your tension, the set of your shoulders sagging against him. “That’s it,” he murmured as he rubbed your back.

It only took a matter of minutes for you to feel your eyelids drooping, your breathing slowing as you meld into him. “M’tired,” you mumbled, sounding groggy. Your words were muffled against his neck, lips ghosting over the delicate skin of his throat. 

Joel chuckled softly, fingers lightly curling at the nape of your neck. “I know, baby,” he said. He glanced at you, dark eyes watching how your eyelids got heavier and heavier with every blink. He was surprised you were so willing to scent him, and how fast it worked.

He shifted slightly, bearded cheek pressing against the top of your head as he let his eyes shut. He felt so calm. The fitful sleep he normally experienced eluded him as you both finally drifted off.

—

Sleep became a sweltering, restless thing throughout the night. Dreams took on dark silhouettes, feverish shapes and flashes of light that seared and burned through your veins. You were weightless in the murky water surrounding you, fingers reaching for something. Someone to anchor yourself to.

Joel.

All your senses smashed into one, an explosion as life-altering as the Big Bang. You were a writhing mass of feeling that had you leaning into air heavy with tension and desire.

He was in it with you, just out of sight. You were so familiar with his presence, his smell, you always knew the weight of when he was nearby. Then, all at once he was with you in the dark place.

He was everywhere. The press and slide of heated skin where your bodies met and separated. You called for him, voice catching and dying in your throat before you had the chance.

You were burning from the inside, your spine an inferno as you reached for him in the dark. You knew he would fix it, knew he was what you needed. He would get you through the blaze and onto the other side.

He was a weighted shadow around you. Completely surrounding you, pulling you tight and grounding you to the anchor of his body. He kept you from drifting off into the fathoms of the abyss.

“Joel,” you whispered. You heard him respond to you in turn, the sound of your name like honey on his lips. The press of his mouth to your neck was like napalm and jolted you—

— and you woke with a rattling gasp, lurching where you lay in bed next to him. Sweat was beaded under your arms and around your temples, heat radiating from where Joel’s arms held you to his side.

You were panting into the cool air of the cabin, blinking until the unfamiliar shapes found themselves into focus once more. It was daylight, far past sunrise from the way sunlight was filtering through the blinds.

Your skin felt a size too small. Everything was uncomfortable and itchy as you stirred in Joel’s embrace, lifting your head out of his neck to take in deep breaths of clean air. It still carried his scent, permeating the room throughout the night. The area between your legs ached like a wound, your thighs squeezing together to relieve the throbbing. 

Something made him wake, the air shifted and thickened around him as he slowly blinked into the morning air. Part of him almost surged out of bed, ready to defend and protect. But he understood on first inhale.

The smell of you was everywhere. It was all-encompassing and alluring, filling his senses all at once. Saliva was rushing to his mouth, your scent was an intoxicating thing that had his nerves alight. Desire took hold of him, real and rooted in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

You knew when he woke, you didn’t even have to look at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, turning away from him as your hand snaked between your legs to feel the mess of your sex. The predicament you put the two of you into was less than ideal. “I thought we had more time—I didn’t mean to.”

He was relieved. You were still in there, in your own mind enough to talk. His mind was slow to the uptake, blood rushing elsewhere as his thoughts turned over themselves. He was trying to remember from before, trying to figure out what it meant.

A soft heat. A distant memory from a junior high health class sprung into his mind. Not a hard heat brought on by a cycle. A soft one could be brought on by stress or exposure to an alpha, but they are shorter than a hard heat. Temporary. Sometimes a single knotting is enough to pull an omega from a soft heat unlike hard heats that last a week.

Joel cursed. It was too loud in the quiet of the room. His head was swimming from the force of the blood rushing to his cock, painful and aching as you moved away from his side.

“Gotta tell me right now, do you want me to go?” Joel asked, already rolling toward you. He followed the way your arm disappeared beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, your face twisted with both pain and pleasure.

It was a sight he only thought he would see in his wildest fantasies.

You were rigid and panting, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you tried to order your thoughts. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Joel helping you through a heat before. His rough and attentive hands guiding you through it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cutting into a whine. “You don’t have to—I just, I can do it on my own if I have to.”

The air between you was aflame before Joel kicked the quilt off and turned toward you. The need to give someone, you, what you needed was burning in him. It was a reminder that even after all this time he was still an alpha, he could still do this for you. 

A wet stamp of his lips on your throat made you keen, tilting your head back against the pillow to give him more space. His hand curled around your jaw and pulled you to him, lips smashing together in a fervent kiss. It all felt like it was building for far longer than the last evening, the urgency as you opened your mouth against his was the culmination of nearly a year of pining.    

The kiss deepened, his body tipping into yours and setting his skin on fire. Joel grabbed you with a wide hand, shifting you fully beneath him as his mouth dropped to your throat. He bit down hard enough to make you jolt, hands grabbing onto his biceps.

You were still mumbling into the air, shaking from holding back. Joel took your jaw in his hand and pressed his forehead to yours, his dark salt-and-pepper curls already damp from sweat. “Stop, baby,” he murmured softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I know what you need, I’ve got ya.”

It was easy to give in then, nodding as you both moved together quickly. Joel stripped you of your clothes, tossing them into the room as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his flannel. You wanted to feel his skin under your hands, trace the contours of his muscles and the shapes of his scars. He was deliciously broad, all realistic working-man muscles–he had never been the flamboyant type.

He couldn’t help but press his cock into the crease of your hip as his nose traced to the curve of your throat, taking in the sweet scent there. His knot ached with the friction, a groan pulled from his throat as he devoured your mouth.

A big hand gripped at your belly and then your hip, positioning you so he could settle between your bent knees. He blindly found his rightful place between them, wide quads pressing against your own. The breath rushed out of him as he reached down and felt your soaked cunt against his fingertips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Joel breathed against your jaw. You were in a haze, hardly processing what Joel was saying as you whined, lifting your hips to the press of his hand. 

The air was punched out of your lungs as he dipped his fingers lower to collect the slick pouring from you, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers over your clit in swirling motions. His other hand flattened over your belly, holding you down to the mattress as he strummed his fingers over you as carefully as he would a guitar.

“Ohh,” you gasped, letting your eyes fall shut at the feeling as your hips stuttered in his hand. “Joel.” 

It was all you could manage to say, all you could manage to think. His expression made your heart trip, your hands reaching for him without hesitation. Your fingers were still slick from when you’d touched yourself upon waking, petting them over his beard as your hips rolled against his hand.

Joel caught the smell of you on your fingers, his dark eyes flashing. His lips dropped open as he sought your hand, pulling your index and middle finger into the hot, wet confines of his mouth. You whined, brows drawing together as warmth covered your face and neck. Needy, wet licks of his tongue took the flavor right off your fingers. 

He couldn’t help but jolt his hips forward, pressing the hard line of his cock against the back of your thigh. A deep sound rumbled from his chest as he let your fingers drop from his mouth, rocking you with his hips again.

The hand between your legs dipped lower, two thick fingers pressing into you. An urge he couldn’t articulate spurred him on, a sympathetic moan escaping him as he watched your back break on a whine. His eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as he felt the tight press of you around every curve and bend of his fingers.

You were painfully sensitive, already feeling yourself tightening around his digits as your thighs clamped around his forearm. It felt wonderful, transcendental, but it wasn’t enough, not right now. “Joel,” you gasped, hips tilting fervently against his hand, “I need–”

He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. He knew, of course he knew.

There was an ache of emptiness as he pulled his fingers from you, taking his cock in his hand and smearing your arousal over it. His weight pressed down above you as he hitched your thighs over his, nudging his hips against yours. You keened at the blunt press of the head of his cock through the seam of your sex, the wet sound of your lips parting for him loud in your ears. 

He teased you for a few moments, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit to make you whine sweetly. The grin on his face was diabolical, he knew it was mean to keep you on edge like this right now–but he couldn’t resist.

“Joel, fuck,” you groaned, digging your nails into his arms. He got the message, rocking forward to find purchase against you and filling you with a hard slot of his hips. You were wet enough to take him in one go.

You both stilled against one another, panting and holding on as you adjusted to the new sensation. Joel never thought in a million years that he would be so lucky. To have you pressed into the mattress beneath him was a dream come true, making him let out a strangled noise as he dropped his weight to his forearms to press his nose back against your neck.

Your cunt pulsing wetly around him brought the dying man back to life, pulling him in as your pants grew more desperate. He let instinct take over, pupils expanding like ink dropped in water as he set his teeth against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It wasn’t gentle. You didn’t want it to be. Joel grabbed you hard and fucked you senseless, driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The repetition of him filling you over and over was merciless, reducing you to mush beneath him as you forgot everything aside from his name. He nipped at your collarbones and anywhere else he could reach, each sharp feeling of his teeth drawing a ragged sound from you as your head pressed back into the mattress.

Joel was completely running on instinct, focused on filling you. To pin you down and knot you deep where you were begging for it. 

The walls of your weeping cunt were starting to flutter around him, spine arching like a bow pulled too tight. He grabbed your hip with a wide hand, forcing you to take him deeper. You were whining, mumbling pleas Joel couldn’t quite understand as your hands spasmed on his arms. He pressed his lips against your neck, stamping wet kisses up and down your throat, licking at your heated skin.

He rutted his hips hard against yours, making shivers run up your spine as you tried to catch your breath. You felt frantic, euphoria clouding the edges of your vision as he worked you higher and higher. Everything in you became painfully tight, a strangled whine coming from your throat as your legs shook and squeezed around his hips.

The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot and practically making you pass out as Joel hitched your leg up, pressing into you as he grunted like an animal. Your whole body spasmed, cunt clamping down around him like a vise as you desperately tried to stay conscious. 

Joel’s hips bunched against yours, his teeth setting into the junction of your neck. The tease of a claiming bite, just enough to make you whimper. He jerked back away from your neck at the last moment, lifting his weight off of you as his dark eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure was licking at the base of his spine, muscles of his abdomen knitting together.

He groaned, spilling inside you and grinding your hips together. Too caught up in his instincts, his head whipped to the side to bite the calf that rested on his shoulder, teeth digging into the meat of it. You keened, pleasure and pain mixing as he pressed in close as his knot began to swell inside you.

The soft sheets embraced his body as Joel collapsed, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you shared each other’s breaths. Your pussy was still pulsing around him, making him tremble as he panted into your throat. The ache of his knot inside you was satiating, drinking a cool glass of water after a long summer’s day.

You brought his mouth to yours, the two of you shifting so Joel was on his back and you sprawled over his chest. He was greedy, thick fingers snaking between your bodies to feel where you two were joined. A broken sound came from his mouth as he felt how you were stretched around his knot.

You traded breaths and open-mouthed kisses, breeching whatever semblance of a chance at a professional relationship after this. Joel’s big hand pressed against your spine, pulling your belly to his as he nuzzled at your cheek, the curve of the bridge of his nose mashing into your heated skin. His beard tickled your face, making you scrunch your nose on occasion as you stamped your lips to his.

He softened enough to slip out of you, making you whine as he dragged his fingers through the mess between your legs and pressed it back inside your cunt. 

It was his intention to pull away, to go to the living room and give you some space now that you no longer needed him. But you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into his chest. Your knees hooked around his thighs, moulding your bodies together as the sun casted stripes across you.

You fell asleep that way, hopelessly tangled as your heart rates slowed and breaths grew heavy.

–

You needed him twice more, waking him up at sunset and in the middle of the night as the moon rose high in the sky. Each time was feverish, you woke him desperately by teething at his throat and pressing your bare pussy against the hard muscle of his quad. It was too easy to press his knot inside you both times, the two of you whispering nonsense to one another as you bedded down, Joel sucking lazily at your breasts before you licked and nuzzled the scoop of his throat.

He felt something terrifying as the moonlight illuminated you after taking his knot for a third time, spend and slick leaking from your puffy, abused cunt as you drifted off. The need to keep you wrapped around his heart like a cage, delirium making him want to hide you away in this cabin with him and never go back to Jackson. 

He blearily reminded himself as sleep closed in that you just were in a difficult situation, he was the only alpha you could have turned to. It was nothing personal.

–

Waking up was a luxurious thing, rest seeped into the marrow of his bones as he stretched in the body-warmed sheets. He was lucky you were feverish enough to keep them both warm through the night, the fire in the hearth long burned out. Sun painted his eyelids orange, a hand scrubbing his salt and pepper beard as he finally opened them.

You were curled at his side, eyes open as you looked out the window. Upon his waking you turned to him, pensive and thoughtful as you took in his expression. You were returned to yourself again, calm without the storm threatening to swallow you whole.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you used his arm as a pillow. The smell of sex and sweat was starting to fade, the evidence only in the marks Joel had sucked onto your throat… and your chest… and your stomach… and your inner thighs. He blushed at how carried away he’d gotten, over a year of hidden-away need manifesting as him greedily taking all you were willing to give yesterday.

“You didn’t have to take care of me,” you whispered, the silence from Joel making you panic. He was just looking at you, his curls sticking up every which way as the back of his skull remained pressed into the pillow. 

“‘Course I did, baby,” he murmured, his Texas drawl even thicker first thing in the morning. He reached out to you, gently squeezing your shoulder beneath the grasp of his fingers. “Wasn’t gonna let you suffer.”

You both stared at one another, neither of you daring to move first as though the dream would fall apart. Joel studied you just as you did him, taking in every twitch of your features as his brown eyes turned molten in the morning sun.

It was impossible to say who moved first. Your hand was on Joel’s jaw as his fingers pressed into your waist, lips smashing together in a fervent clash of teeth and tongues. 

You straddled him this time, giving his aching back a break as you leaned over him and kissed his jaw. For some reason you felt more desperate now than in your soft heat, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you curled your fingers into his beard.

There were no excuses this time, truth revealed in the morning light. No biological need driving either of you together aside from your lust.

Joel’s big palm smacked the curve of your ass, making you squeak against his throat before a giggle poured from you. He grinned, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands as he pressed his lips anywhere they could reach.

“Can I?” you whispered, eyes wide as you pulled back to meet his gaze. You looked vulnerable, as though you thought he would reject your advances despite the fact that his cock was already swelling with arousal. He couldn’t even imagine a world where he could reject you.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathed, ready to burn the world for you if you asked.

You smiled, relief flooding through you. You didn’t think Joel would push you away, but you weren’t sure. Thank god you guessed right.

You spat in the palm of your hand, lifting yourself up just enough to reach between the two of you and take Joel into your hand. Without the haze of your heat blinding you, you were shocked by the size of him. It was hard to believe you were able to take his knot at all given the swell of him beneath your fingers.

Your eyes widened as you bent your head to look down at your hand. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you murmured, the awe in your voice making his chest puff with pride. You glanced back up at his face, lips parted as you experimentally stroked him along the entirety of his length.

Joel’s nostrils flared as his eyes closed, pride warming your belly as you repeated the motion. The skin of his cock was overheated and velvet-soft, a quiet moan falling from your lips as you watched his expression twist. Precome leaked down to mix with your spit, the head of his cock flushed–part of you was tempted to ignore the aching between your legs to get your mouth on him.

You weren’t that generous, though.

It took a bit of contortion to line Joel up with you before you were pressing down on him, the two of you gasping in unison at the stretch. There was a twinge of pain, but you were too impatient to let him open you up on his fingers. His hands were iron around your hips, the force of his hold almost bruising.

He could see all of you in the morning light, his eyes tracing up as though he was seeing God for the first time. Joel was mesmerized, watching the bounce of your breasts as you rode him, the slight jiggle of the soft flesh of your thighs and lower belly. Your eyes rolled back in a way that made his heart twist, the roll of your hips making him root deep. 

Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the long-healed scars by knives as you moaned. Joel’s hands smoothed into the creases of your hips, gripping you tight as he brought you down on his cock, hips fucking up into you.

It took all your focus to stay on top of him, thighs trembling as you dug your knees into the soft mattress. Your breath hitched every time he hit the deepest parts of you, eyes rolling back and mouth lolling open. The pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost painful, making you want to sob above him.

Despite your desperate coupling over the past day, this felt entirely different. This was something new and unknown, your bodies moving together as hot flashes of euphoria drip through your veins. 

Joel was in awe, the feeling of your soaked cunt gripping at him was almost too much to handle as the bed creaked beneath his back. He didn’t even realize how loud the springs were last night, too delirious to care. Each rock of his hips made your body pitch up before he shoved you back down in a dizzying loop that had you both groaning. 

Everything in you tightened as he railed into you, nails digging into his chest as the feeling hooked into you and dragged you toward the undertow. You were at the edge of a cliff, balanced dangerously at the edge of it as you whimpered.

“God, can feel you squeezin’ around me,” he breathed, his voice strangled. He railed into you in a frantic rhythm, brows drawn together as he held you so tight you knew you would be sore.

It only took another one, two, three snaps of Joel’s hips against yours before you fell. You barely were able to catch yourself in time, your orgasm spreading through you like a lighting strike as your muscles convulsed and your cunt spasmed around his cock. He cursed, an arm curling around your back and making your spine arch as he held you against him.

Joel couldn’t get enough of you, the wet squeeze of your cunt felt like a heaven he shouldn’t have been allowed in. He was vaguely aware of his mouth running, your name spilling from his lips as he fucked into you, treating you like a toy for his pleasure as he manipulated your hips.

You took everything he gave you, leaning over him to press your mouth against his. You were moaning against one another, begging in whispers. It didn’t take him long to bring you down onto him and keep you there, teeth gritting and breath stuttering as he pumped you full of him. Joel let out a groan through clenched teeth, sounding like a wounded animal as he forced you into stillness for a few moments before letting go.

The rest was easy, you collapsed onto him as Joel kissed and nosed at your hairline. He scented you where he could, feeling possessive in the aftermath. 

You didn’t talk for some time, communicating through touch as you let bliss keep your bodies bound to bed for a little while longer. But the sun was shining in the sky, the truck bed full of supplies for Jackson occupied the back of your mind as you looked down at Joel, soft and sweet.

“Let’s get going?” you asked, sounding more like a demand than a question. You didn’t know what else to do, lifting your chest from his as the air began to cool your sweat. Your legs were shaking like a colt’s against the floorboards, spend dripping down your legs before you wiped it away with your sweatpants. You would change into jeans for the drive home anyways.

Joel watched you with curious eyes, seeing the way you distanced yourself as you dug through your pack for fresh clothes. He stood, groaning a bit with the effort after spending so long in bed. It was only a few strides to get to you, pressing his body along your back.

“I want to do this your way,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips against the crown of your head. “I’ll do whatever you want, just wanna be yours.”

You felt giddy, a smirk quirked the edges of your lips that you tamped down, hands still clutching the sweatshirt and jeans like life preservers. “You mean that?” you asked, leaning back against him. “What if I never let you bite me?”

“Then I won’t bite you,” he said, no hesitation in his voice. He squeezed you once, letting you go and allowing the cold air rush against you once more. “Just think about it, you don’t gotta know now.” 

Joel stamped a kiss along your hairline before leaving the bedroom.

Packing up went quickly, the two of you working in tandem to make sure everything was still bound down and tarped in the back of the truck before clambering in. You watched the cabin disappear in the rearview mirror, already feeling nostalgic as it vanished behind snow-covered pines.

It wasn’t a long drive, maybe five hours if Joel went slow. He was going to go slow, milking every moment he got you all to himself before returning to Jackson. It only took you ten minutes into the drive to slide across the bench seat, lifting his arm to curl beneath it.

“So my way, huh?” you asked, pressing your nose against the canvas jacket he wore. 

Joel chuckled, a victorious grin stretching on his face. “Yeah, your way, baby. You’re in charge.” It felt odd to say, a bit unnatural to give himself to you like that. An alpha bowing to an omega.

You grinned, an arm wrapping around his thick torso and pressing close as he followed the snow-covered road. The landscape sparkled like diamonds, the two of you silent as you didn’t want to break whatever that moment was. 

Unsure of what lay ahead, but excited to find out–knowing it just may be something special.

[rjcolette]

college au! satoru gojo x reader x suguru geto

warnings:

smut

alcohol usage

mention of marijuana

threesome (they all want each other lol)

sub! satoru gojo

dom! suguru geto

switch! reader

masochism (satoru gojo)

sadism (suguru geto)

vibrating tongue/cock piercing

mommy kink (satoru gojo)

daddy kink (suguru geto)

praise kink (both)

degradation/humiliation kink (both)

size kink (both)

double penetration (both)

edging (both)

begging (both)

biting (both)

hair pulling (both)

breeding kink (satoru gojo)

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

he was the biggest fucking jerk you had probably ever met in your entire life. satoru gojo, classic fraternity dude stereotype with far too many bodies under his belt (no pun intended) and a cocky ass smirk that made you want to throttle your fist into his perfect, infuriatingly handsome face. you saw him way too often, more often than you should, and it felt like the universe was purposefully sticking its foot up your ass as some sort of sick joke to piss you off.

what you didn’t understand about his constant reoccurring presence is that you were just an average uni student — you made decent grades, mostly a’s and b’s with one c in your stats class (that course alone made you want to drop out and take your bitchass to mcdonalds to work [it didn’t sound so bad now that you considered it; better than doing math]), you went to class, most days, since you had a bad habit of skipping when you were tired, and you weren’t involved in any kind of fraternity or sorority at your university.

so why was he always around? you squinted your eyes, which were burning from your ebony tight liner and perfect black wing (which took you multiple tries to get just right), and your brows furrowed as your lip curled into a faint snarl. red, blue, and green hues of flashing party lights scalded your retinas, not making it much easier on your abused irises, as you beheld the white haired man laughing obnoxiously across the room. drunken and sleazy young men and women danced and chatted loudly amongst the booming music (you weren’t really paying attention to the annoying beat [perhaps it was the weeknd, or something like that…? you don’t know]) and obscured your vision in a huge mass of blurred red and green. you couldn’t identify any of the students here aside from satoru, and his best friend suguru geto, who he roared in very audible laughter across the room with, slinging an arm over his broad shoulders.

“everything okay, y/n?!” hollered your best friend, f/n, from beside you. the question was spoken with half-concern, as she was so elated by her drunken state with a tall bottle of pink whitney in her grip a giggle escaped her lips once she uttered it. you scoffed quietly, so silently she undoubtedly did not catch it, and you shook your head to respond.

“satoru gojo is over there. again,” you scowled, whipping your head around to scrutinize f/n. she only smiled sleazily, her dark eyes half-lidded and amused, albeit slightly worried. you didn’t care enough to wonder if she was cross-faded, but you did find yourself wondering where she got weed if she was because, frankly, you wouldn’t care for a hit right about now either. “why am i always fucking running into that guy?” you jabbed a finger back.

she shrugged, grinning and slinging a hand over your shoulder and pulling you to her. she stumbled weakly onto your side, unable to balance herself properly. she snickered. “ah. that white haired motherfucker your always yappin about? we do see him a lot, don’t we?”

you and f/n were avid frat party attendees, despite either of you not being involved in any kind of frat yourself. she always slept around on fridays like these, and usually, she’d disappear at some point at the party to go fuck a guy or girl and you wouldn’t see her again until the morning back at your dorm. whatever. she was your best friend and roommate and you cared deeply for her, but she was also an adult who could handle her own shit. you weren’t her babysitter.

“yeah. we,” you said dryly, curling your lip. “it’s more my fault. i think i’m cursed.” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“how so?!” she shouted over the loud r&b music. she didn’t necessarily need to shout, as she was close enough to your face you could smell the alcohol on her breath. you could count each perfect tooth she had (she recently got her braces off she had had since middle school [her teeth were really fucked up; she showed you old pictures]) and they glistened in the flashing led lights of the stuffy, stifling mass of party people surrounding the two of you. you presumed her intoxication also prevented her from properly comprehending her volume either, so you cast aside your irritation for a moment to reply.

“it’s me who always fucking sees him,” you said. you side-eyed satoru, now stumbling onto suguru geto as he sang along to the song that was playing. you blinked and and suddenly could not look away. “…it bothers me, because he looks so damn familiar. i just can’t put my finger on it.”

“maybe you met him in a past life! ha!” she howled in hilarity. she would think a flamingo with a thong on was funny right now. you liked her a lot more when she was sober.

“maybe,” you entertained her. your head was hurting, and you sighed in frustration as a sharp pang went through your brain. now your mood was soured, seeing satoru now of all times. you had just recently failed an exam in stats and you were looking to take the edge off with your routine frat party with f/n, and just as you had started to loosen up and relax and convince yourself you’d get your grade up with the next dumbass exam, you spotted him. walking to class, eating at local restaurants, shopping, the gym, fuck, he was in half of your classes — the universe thought this was all some sort of big ass joke, didn’t it? forcing you to always run into satoru with no explanation as to why… no reasoning for why he was also so fucking familiar to you.

and every time you would see him, you’d stare in a mixture of complicated emotions — awe, envy, disgust, confusion, and a sort of distant contemplation. you were in awe by his beauty every time, of course, because he was uncomfortably gorgeous, envy because he was so utterly confident in himself it made your stomach lurch with jealousy and desire, disgust because his perfection was incredibly revolting, and confusion and distant contemplation for obvious reasons — why did you always see him? why did you recognize him? and why… just at that moment, satoru came down from his laughing high, his arms still holding onto suguru but slipping, and his heavenly blue irises met your own from across the crowded, stuffy room, and grinned, raising his slim brows… why did he always look at you like he knew what you were thinking?

“something wrong?” mumbled f/n with a slur, sloshing her pink whitney around as she stumbled forward, accidentally tripping over someone’s foot (or was it somebody’s clothes? perhaps a discarded red solo cup? you didn’t know, or give a shit). “you look-“ she began to giggle, and you scoffed very audibly this time and practically snatched the pink whitney bottle out of her hand and brought it to your dry lips. you winced as you chugged about a quarter of the bottle and prayed it would kick in fast before you did this. “y/n?!” her laughter faded.

“i’m gonna fucking talk to him,” you declared in determination. “see what his fucking deal is. i’m so done, f/n.” you shook your head, your brows furrowing. you never broke eye contact with satoru, who, when seeing you chug your bottle, only licked his perfect plump lips and smiled coyly. “so. done.”

you shoved the bottle back in her grip and f/n stumbled back, stammering. you ignored her. she’d probably run off and get bored any time now to go fuck somebody. good. a little sex never hurt anybody.

you were in your sophomore year of college and this man had haunted your thoughts every single day of every single damn semester since you started attending this university, and you had refused to speak a word to him that entire time. you were an adult, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re very mature, especially when it comes to men. let’s say you have a a sort of superiority complex when it comes to guys, particularly guys like satoru gojo. but gojo was different — he was more infuriating than your average frat cuck.

“hey!” you shouted over the music, jabbing your finger into satoru’s flat chest. he wore a plain black tee and jeans that hugged his ass so nicely, and his pecs were visible through his thin shirt. his arm flexed as he brought his cup to his lips, taking a sip as he quirked a brow at your intrusion, his hair falling in loose waves over his beautiful eyes. “the fuck is your deal, pretty boy?” he smirked into his cup and lowered it, clearly caught off guard. after a millisecond when he did not reply, only grinned cockily (the bastard), you added, “huh?!”

“satoruuuuu,” a young woman in skimpy clothes whined from beside him, tugging on his shirt. you caught suguru sneak an annoyed glance at her, as if he was incredibly irritated at her intrusion between you and satoru. you narrowed your slim eyes. what the hell did he know..? gojo turned around himself to address the girl, who was trying to coax satoru to come dance with her and her other two girlfriends, all dressed like fucking whores. satoru spoke sultry and sweet to the women, declining them but also charming them with empty promises. to be expected from a man like him; he can’t stand women being disappointed in him or unattracted to him. mommy issues, you determined.

you took that moment to scrutinize geto as satoru was distracted. his eyes were thin and devilish, irises dark and sparkling under the flashing lights. his lips were thinner than satorus, his nose roman-shaped with prominent cheekbones and a slim, masculine face. satoru was more feminine-looking than him in a appearance, both in body and face, while suguru had broader shoulders and a thicker build. they seemed about the same height, however.

so this was satoru gojo’s best friend, suguru geto. he was undeniably gorgeous. he leaked masculinity and dominance, certainly the more strong and silent type. you saw satoru at the gym a lot when you were trying to get your steps in on the treadmill (you were deeply afraid of the freshman fifteen, even as a fucking sophomore), but you saw this guy even more. he loved the gym, and whenever you saw suguru there, he had on a pair of noise cancelling black headphones on lifting weights heavier than your entire body with one arm and a concentrated countenance — you knew his headphones were noise-cancelling because you had made the grave mistake of trying to speak to suguru once your freshman year in the gym to ask were the restrooms were located, and he simply stared ahead of him with an unreadable expression. you flushed, stood there for a moment, and then angrily walked off, muttering curses to yourself and towards suguru.

other than that, you didn’t mind him much. there was a sort of animosity you held towards him because of satoru in association, but other than that he was tolerable. you had spoken to him a few times, much more than you ever had to satoru, at the gym and in stats, which you had with him, and he was pretty chill. sometimes you’d catch yourself glaring at him from across the room and feel bad, but you couldn’t help it.

suguru smiled at you as gojo was turned away and looked you up and down. your hands were now planted firmly on your hips, and you suddenly felt very self-conscious as suguru scrutinized your figure. you were slim and slightly toned from the gym, and you were currently wearing a purple crop top and low-rise jeans. your hair was down and your usual makeup was done, which was dark and sultry (how you liked it), enchanting your eyes and lips. no matter how uncomfortably aware of yourself you wet becoming, you refused to show it. you had to surpass suguru and satoru’s unwavering frat-boy confidence with diligence and certainty, and this goal was reflected by the raising of your chin and narrowing of your eyes.

“you got a problem too, suguru geto?” you spat. you didn’t really mean it entirely. you actually somewhat admired suguru, but you felt determined to intimidate the both of them.

at this point the slutty girls bothering satoru had ran off giggling over some dumb shit, you were sure, and satoru had turned his attention back to you.

“well well well, what do we have here?” muttered satoru with a smirk, but suguru ignored him and instead regarded you with utmost lust and interest.

suguru’s eyes glimmered in amusement, his right arm relaxed by his side and his left on the small of satoru’s back as satoru leaned on his shoulders, his right arm slung lazily and drunkenly over his best friend. they had to have some sort of strange bromance going on, seeing how comfortable they were touching each other like that.

“i don’t,” replied suguru, and then he added casually, “i’ve actually been wanting to see you naked for a while.” he licked his lips. “you down?”

you almost choked on your own saliva. satoru broke out into obnoxious laughter beside him, but you were certain he was completely and utterly serious. your eyes were wide and your face flushed, and any confidence you were emitting previously had been dissipated in just a moment. you coughed violently and once finished with your fit, you gripped your right arm so tightly your knuckles turned white, and your hand slid down your mouth to speak.

“what the hell did you just say to me..?”

“you heard him,” grinned satoru. he titled his head, and it felt like his dumbass smirk was always getting bigger and bigger. it infuriated you how confident he always acted, and it perplexed you how it was even possible to be so certain of oneself. all of your conflicting emotions stupefied you as you stood dumbly before them, both of the cocky men towering over you with leaking with drunken lust and desire. the mood had shifted so suddenly you felt you were going to be sick. satoru slid his arm off of suguru slowly, and leaned towards you and tucked a strand of disheveled hair behind your ear. he was suddenly so close you could smell his prominent aroma — fresh laundry, mint, and, of course, alcohol, more particularly jack daniels. you scrunched your nose, catching the same scent from suguru as his dark navy long sleeve shirt caught the breeze of the ac behind him, jack daniels, but suguru himself had a more musky cologne, like foggy woods in the autumn season. jack daniels, you scoffed internally, your face still flushed from satoru’s close proximity and suguru’s previous confession — for frat boys, they were incredibly refined, the cream of the crop, you suppose.

catching yourself admiring the two, you scolded yourself in your head. what were you thinking?! these men were your enemies! they were both dicks. both of them. suguru geto was a little less insufferable, but still irritating nonetheless. you shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

but your heart couldn’t help but race as satoru’s warm minty breath tickled your earlobe as he spoke, and suddenly you were picturing them both naked, “we’ve had our eyes on you for a while, y/n. you’re the hottest chick that goes here, and fuck, you look sexy on that stairmaster in the gym. who would’ve guessed a beautiful and refined woman such as yourself would have such a slutty, plump, round fucking ass?”

your breath hitched, your body so hot you thought you would implode. you were so incredibly aware of all of the people yelling and singing and laughing around you, dancing and screaming in delight as people made out and greedily chugged alcohol out of their red cups all around you. the bass of the loud r&b music practically shook your bones, and the sensation of the thundering music and suguru and satoru’s intoxicating drunken scents made your head swim and your core throb. it pissed you off, the way you were suddenly feeling, but you were only a woman.

“how do you know me..?” you said breathlessly, roughly grabbing satoru’s waist with a quivering hand, reaching to angrily shove him off, but finding yourself unable to do so once you actually made physical contact with him. fuck, his scent was so alluring you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away right now if you could. and- you glanced up for just a moment- the way suguru was eyeing you like a starved wolf made your pussy clench around absolutely nothing. how long had it been since you had sex? you felt equal desire towards the two men and disgust towards your own selfish needs. “how…” you began, faltering for a moment, “..how do i.. know you? where have i fucking met you before..?”

“how could i forget my first..?” breathed gojo, his hand snaking down your back to harshly grip your ass, pulling you even closer to him, if humanely possible. suddenly, you were flush against satoru’s broad, flat chest, and you blinked and felt a weight pressing you from behind. your eyes widened. suguru. suguru geto was standing behind you, his huge erection pressing into the space between your asscheeks, the same once gojo was fondling with his hands. suguru buried his nose into the crook of your neck on the side opposite of satoru, inhaling your vanilla and plum perfume so deeply it’s as if he thought you’d disappear from him any moment.

“your..first..?” you questioned in shock, and then suddenly it hit you. in high school, junior year, you attended a halloween party thrown by one of your closest friends on the volleyball team, a senior, when her parents were out of town. you had snuck out to attend with your cousin (who you ended up not even staying with the entire time) and then you got super fucking drunk and were led off by an upperclassman boy on the basketball team. you don’t remember it clearly, just that it was when you lost your virginity in a slutty vampire costume (which you had no business wearing at seventeen, but you digress).

that was him? the revelation hit you like a truck. how could you not remember satoru from high school..? especially considering how otherworldly his beauty is. i mean, anyone would remember a face and personality like his, especially if he took your virginity. but you never would have guess you also took his that night. fuck… you were so drunk you hadn’t even remembered any of it until now.

“it was you..” you exhaled in remembrance, and your heart throbbed with so many conflicting emotions. you almost felt fond of him because of what he had reminded you of, but your previous dislike you had harbored of him since the beginning of university still lingered. you didn’t understand your feelings at all, and even less what was happening in the present moment. all you know is that you felt dizzy and incredibly drunk, and you don’t even know if you entirely regret chugging f/n’s bottle of pink whitney because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have ever been in the position you are right now — i mean, it was every young woman’s dream. sandwiched between two incredibly handsome, tall, sexy mean who craved you like you were the last woman alive on earth.

“mhm..” mumbled suguru in your other ear. you almost whined from the tingles that went down your spine. satoru nibbled on your earlobe slowly as suguru spoke, and you felt warmth pooling in your undergarment. “..you’re all satoru talks about. it’s honestly intriguing, how good he said you were, how tight… and now i want a taste. best friends should share, after all… right satoru..?”

“yes, they should,” smirked satoru in lust against your neck, which he had moved his plump lips to to leave messy wet butterfly kisses all the way down to your bare collarbones. your blood slammed against our veins in desire as the men touched you, and your entire body was on fire. “…let’s see if that pussy is still as fucking tight as it was back then, shall we..?”

you yelped as suguru roughly flipped you around and smacked your ass, hard, effortlessly hoisting your body up by your hips and throwing you lazily over his shoulder, knocking the breath out of your lungs for a moment. you gasped for air, partially from his actions and partially from the shock from what both satoru gojo and suguru geto had confessed to you, and suguru slapped your ass a second time and began to carry you through the mass of people partying all around you towards the stairs.

“h-hey!” you stammered in surprise, your face so hot you could fry an egg on it. “put me down!! what the fuck..?!”

before you knew it, you had made it to the top of the stairs of the frat house and had begun to be carried to the end of the hallway. the booming music and cacophony of laughter and talking from downstairs was significantly quieter up here as suguru took you into a room, which gojo opened the door to. you couldn’t see much but the floor over his shoulder, and everything was a messy blur around you both from your position and your drunkenness. satoru shut the door behind you and suguru and locked it. the bass of the music faintly shook the walls around you. the room was dark until satoru turned the lights on to a red led. of course. you had a feeling of what was about to happen.

suguru threw you down on the bed and practically ripped off his shirt, and you were still trying to gather yourself before you could ogle his perfectly sculpted and toned chest. his pants clung loosely to his hipbones, and his ebony hair, which was previously thrown into an attractive messy man bun, was now falling loosely over his thick shoulders, slightly dampened from sweat. his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes fell over your form, scrambling back to the headboard of the king sized bed, looking around frantically.

this must be satoru’s room. he had silk navy blue sheets, and a star wars poster on the wall, which was almost cute if you weren’t so caught up in the moment. he had a gaming pc on his university-owned desk and messy homework papers scattered everywhere on top of the keyboard. he also had a shiny red electric guitar with a spiky, slim shape propped up on a guitar stand in the corner of the room, and you even noticed some luxury items, like bags and shoes and furniture, around the room as well. so satoru was rich and spoiled. you could have guessed that.

suguru caught you eyeballing the guitar as satoru walked up to be by his side, also taking his short-sleeve shirt off. you immediately looked away from the guitar and locked eyes with suguru, whole-heartedly aware of satoru gojo undressed beside him and refusing to let yourself look at him. despite your childlike fondness towards him for being your first back in high school, you still strongly disliked him for every that you knew he was — cocky, beautiful, spoiled, full of himself, and incredibly good in bed, from what you can recall.

“it’s mine. not satoru’s,” suguru says lowly, his voice grumbling in his chest as if hoping to gain your favor over satoru. so he was that type of guy, huh. the jealous, possessive type. well, you suppose you didn’t mind. you still liked him more than you did gojo, but maybe you were just trying to tell yourself that.

you swallowed dryly, accidentally catching a glimpse of satoru unbuckling his belt and you clenched your thighs, your face a flaming rouge. what was even going on right now? you were so fucking drunk. you couldn’t even tell somebody what day it was if you were asked. but at least you knew satoru and suguru were as well. you knew you weren’t being rational. you could easily get up, curse them both and even give one (probably gojo) a solid smack across the cheek for even trying anything with you, but you did none of those things. fuck, you were so wet just by the sounds of satoru and suguru’s voices and scents, and even more so by the fact that they’re beginning to undress and reveal their infuriatingly perfectly sculpted chests. you pictured their cocks and their individual sizes in your heads prematurely… satoru’s was probably thinner with a lighter hue to the tip, suguru’s thick with girth and darker in shade.

what you didn’t expect, however, was for suguru to unbuckle his pants and pull out a cock with a black piercing at the tip. you gaped at him with both awe and desire. i mean, he always had those huge black gauges in his earlobes, so it shouldn’t be entirely shocking other places were pierced too, but you definitely didn’t expect his…

“you like it?” he said with a smile, his brows raising in amusement. then, he stuck his tongue out, and by the stars above, it had a matching black piercing as well. you stifled a gasp when he said his next words. “they both vibrate. and guess who has the controls..?”

your eyes were wide with shock as you slowly latched your gaze onto satoru, now completely nude as he tilted his head with a wink with his arm outstretched. he placed a hand on the bed as if crawling towards you, shoving the screen of his phone in your face to reveal a sort of remote with a scale on it. you shuddered.

“you want it, don’t you.??” satoru whispered in lust as he lowered the phone and placed his hands on your cold waist, his hands warm and welcoming there. he hooked in slender fingers under the hem and slid off your top, and you allowed him. “you want that fat cock inside that tight, wet little pussy of yours, don’t you y/n..?” he grinned, his breaths falling against your collarbones quickly as he unbuttoned your jeans. suguru geto had moved behind you to unhook your lacy black bra, and you were awestruck and incredibly flustered, willing to let it all happen as you processed their touch and words. you felt your nipples perk against the cool air of satoru’s room as suguru threw your bra aside, and your pussy clenched around nothing when satoru aggressively yanked your jeans and panties down simultaneously down to your thighs. he chuckled lowly on your collarbone, licking his hot tongue from your clavicle your round, plump tit. suguru must have removed your shoes and the rest of your clothes while you were distracted with gojo, for you were now completely nude. “where’s that confidence from before now, mommy..? hmmm..?? mmph..” he moaned as plump pink lips caught your tit in his mouth. you let out a shaky exhale and threw your head back in pleasure as satoru sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple, nibbling on the bud as suguru crawled over you on the bed, and you could feel the vibrations of the faint music downstairs shaking your bones as the pleasure of both of the men’s touches shook you to your core. you were so fucking wet, so wet you could hardly speak to retort to any of satoru gojo’s teases.

suguru placed his hand on your core, forcing you down flat against the navy blue silken sheets of the bed with your head propped up on the fluffy pillows behind you. you didn’t fight it, only let the immense pleasure occur: “good fucking girl, stay still for us now, okay?” suguru growled, his voice vibrating against your bare wet pussy when he lowered his head to it, and you could feel his long black tresses brushing and tickling against your sensitive thighs.

you heard satoru blindly tap and drag the screen of his phone as he continued to suck and fondle your tits, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and bit back a scream of immense ecstasy as suguru’s warm tongue enveloped your swollen clit, the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure so intense through you core it was painful. but you reveled in the sensation — hell, you welcomed it with open arms. the more the men fawned over you and caressed you, so conjointly determined to deliver you the utmost pleasure and worship, the more your own confidence and awareness returned back to you, so much so you were willing to speak and engage with them.

“fuuuuck, don’t stop!” you whisper-shouted as suguru lapped you up like he hadn’t eaten in days, like he was starved, like your pussy was drenched in some sort of divine, heavenly nectar that he simply could not get enough of. satoru was the same, though he shivered and whined in desire as his hands explored your body, as if overjoyed to finally have you in his clutches. the more you paid attention to both of the men’s individual behaviors, the more you became aware of how to play this game. to play with them. remember that superiority complex i mentioned earlier? yeah. it was all coming back now.

“nobody down there can he…- hear you, baby,” suguru panted, his lips smacking wetly as he lifted his chin to speak against your bare pussy. his chin and the area around his mouth glistened with sweat and slick. “let it out, you fuckin.. you fuckin, ngh, slut. let those fuckers all he.. hear you scream, let daddy hear his pretty girl, ngh, scream in pleasure…”

and you did when those damn vibrations met with your clit once more, your thighs clenching and unclenching around suguru’s head as you struggling to keep up with his licks and swirls. he inserted two of his thick fingers into your pussy, allowing you no time to stretch out as he pumped your juices in and out of you mercilessly. satoru had moved to your neck, tasting the sweet saltiness of your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat, as he sucked and bit down to leave marks all over your body. he wanted to ensure everyone in his frat knew who you belonged to — he and suguru geto, no one else. you didn’t even know it, but fuck, you were a catch. many of the other boys in gojo’s fraternity had noticed you, you had the perfect fucking curves and body, after all, and you were incredibly beautiful, like some sort of supermodel, so of course his frat brothers lusted over you. you and your best friend (her name was f/n, or something..? gojo thought) went out a lot, to study, eat, party, and you caught the attention of more men than you ever would have thought you did yourself. and it made satoru gojo unspeakably envious.

you were his. you were his from the moment you took each others virginity at that halloween party your junior and his senior year, you were his the moment you committed to going to the same university as him, and the only man he was willing to share you with was the man eating your pathetic little pussy out as we speak. he would make sure the marks on your neck reflected that, that your beaten, weakened little pussy reflected that.

he squeezed your perfect plump tits in desire as he left yet another hickey on your smooth, doll-like skin, relishing in the melody of your cries of pleasure and need. you were all he ever wanted since he was just a teenager, and here you were now, his to consume and have. fuck, he wanted you to dominate him, wanted you to leave him a blubbering, sloppy mess beneath you as you rode him and pumped his cock dry with no mercy.

“fuck, you’re amazing,” gojo praised in a whimper as you wailed in the shock of pain and pleasure of him biting so harshly on your neck he could draw blood. satoru could be rough when he wanted to be when having sex, but not like suguru. suguru geto was the definition of a dom, and fuck, he was sadistic. he loved to see women quivering beneath him in pain as he edged them closer and closer to their release, just to never give it to them until the very, very end.

satoru gojo was the opposite. to hide the embarrassment of it all, when he was with women sexually, he put on a front that he was like geto, dominant, confident, and masculine. but he truly wasn’t into all that. he couldn’t tell you how many times he touched himself, pumping his wet, soaked length with his own right hand pretending it was your pussy, pretending you were digging your long black nails into his skin, leaving scratches and scars all over his body, smacking his face, wrapping your delicate, dainty hands around his neck, squeezing so hard he’d pass out as he came inside you… he was undeniably a masochist, and he wanted nothing more than to be used and beaten by you.

it all felt so incredible. you felt so dirty and sinful, but fuck you couldn’t get enough — neither could satoru or suguru. satoru gojo was so weak for you. you were the only woman he could ever submit to.

“f-fuck..! i-i’m gonna…!” you gasped, your chest rising and falling rapidly as both of the men touched you. it was otherworldly, this feeling. it had been so long since you had been with a man, and you had never been with two at once. you were already reaching your release and it had hardly been five minutes. suguru tutted in displeasure and satoru, sensing this, paused the remote control, stopping the vibrations of suguru’s tongue piercing. suguru geto himself, additionally, had stopped pleasuring you just as your eyes were lolling back to your head and you were reaching your high. satoru removed his lips from your nipple with a plop, sliding his hand down your waist before his touch was gone completely. you whined as the feeling of both of them close to you was ripped away.

your pleasure being stolen from you was like a slap in the face, and you groaned, covering your eyes for a moment as you panted trying to recollect yourself. “ngh!.. wh.. what the.. what the hell?!” you cried.

“get on top.. of satoru,” suguru commanded, out of breath as he licked your lips, relishing in the taste of your sweet juices. “let’s see how good you ride, baby girl.” you gasped at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying, and your eyes slowly made their way over to satoru, who was laying down on the opposite side of the mattress, his elbows propping his body up as his chest heaved in desire. his white hair fell in messy clumps over his mesmerizing eyes, which were slightly dulled by the red lights enveloping the room. “now. be a good fucking slut for daddy, will you?” he smirked, finally beginning to catch his breath. his teeth caught his bottom lip in lust as he shamelessly soaked in every inch, crevice, and curve of your flawless body. he acknowledged your surprise and bewilderment in his next words: “i wanna see my pretty little slut ride my best friend and leave him a moaning, crying mess. is that a fucking crime?” then, geto climbed on top of your body laying flat against the bed and roughly manhandled you, his left hand reaching to grip your hair harshly and his right hand squishing your cheeks together as you stared up at him with wide eyes. you tried to stammer out a word, but he cut you off: “hm? what’s the matter, y/n…? you were so confident earlier when you jabbed your finger into satoru’s chest and cursed at him. you think your so fucking tough…?” he grunted and in a second, he grabbed you by your shoulders so roughly you’re certain he would leave bruises and flipped you around so that your ass was in the air. you whined in shock as raised his hand to smack your ass with all his strength. you screamed into the pillow, gripping the sheets as tears leaked from your eyes, and you’re sure your makeup was now ruined from your tears and sweat. you cried as your ass burned and stung from the impact, and your body convulsed as electric shocks of pain went up your spine. but, contrarily, your stomach swam with a hoard of butterflies, your heart beating rapidly and your face flushed in desire and pleasure. you loved it. you loved being treated like this, especially by a man as delectably handsome and gorgeous as suguru geto, just as much as you would love to ride satoru gojo until he came so hard inside you his seed leaked all over your thighs. you’d love to see satoru submit under you, you’d love to see him suffer for how much he has consumed your thoughts these past few years… but for some reason, you couldn’t speak, to enticed by the sensations suguru was giving you to move on to the next step. you were speechless.

“what happened to that dirty slutty little mouth of yours you had earlier, hm?” suguru taunted, pressing his cock in the crevice of your ass as he gripped your hips so hard it made you flinch roughly in pain from how intense his grip was. “not so vocal now, are we? c’mon, baby… i wanna see satoru squirm in pleasure as you milk every drop from his throbbing fucking cock. i wanna see that tight little pussy squeeze him so fucking tight he forgets how to think and breath, i wanna see you fuck him so good he forgets his own fucking name… you think you can do that for daddy, hm, baby? you think you can be a good girl and make satoru cum for me?” you let out a muffled scream of agony into the pillow as suguru raised his hand and smacked your ass hard again, and finally you managed to speak.

“y-yes!” you cried and moaned all at once, trying to get up. “yes..!” you repeated in desire, managing to get your head up off the pillow as you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth, black, mascara-filled tears streaming down your cheeks and staining them. you felt satoru’s watchful eyes on you the entire time, his hand stroking his wet length, pleasuring himself at the sight of your sweaty, shining naked body, your tears and your cries of pain and pleasure.

but suguru wasn’t having it. he growled and grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you back into the pillow, squishing your face against the surface of the bed. he dug his fingers even harder into your asscheek, if humanely possible, using all his strength to potentially leave bruises on your smooth skin. “yes what?”

“yes, suguru!!” you tried.

“wrong,” suguru scowled, smacking your ass another time and making you yelp in agony. “say it again, and say it right. beg for it. beg for me to let you ride satoru. c’mon, baby, you can fucking do it.”

that’s right, you remembered amongst your sniffles and cries of pain, quivering and sobbing into the pillow. suguru had a daddy kink, didn’t he? he seemed to also like hurting you, obviously. that’s what he probably wanted then, for you to call him daddy instead of his real name. oh well, you suppose you didn’t mind, although it was a little degrading and humiliating.

“p-please daddy!!” you screamed, your face flaming red in embarrassment as geto roughly fondled your asscheeks, awaiting his desired response. “i’ll do anything! let me fu.. hnnngh,” you paused and moaned as suguru pressed his cock against you again teasingly. you could almost feel him smirking behind you from being able to make you falter. you started again, now determined: “let.. let me fuck him!! please, please, please, daddy, please, please…” you begged in whispers. this entire exchange was far more kinky than anything you had ever experienced in your entire sex life, so you could only pray you were doing it right.

to your glee, this response seemed to satisfy suguru as he removed his hands from your backside and gripped your shoulders, forcing you up and down onto his cock, though not inside just yet. his erection was so, so fucking close to your throbbing heat. fuck, he was rock hard… and just when you thought suguru geto had lapped up every ounce of slick your body could possible produce, your body made even more from sensation of his body heat and sweat intermingling with your own. his sharp canines bit down on the supple skin of your bare neck, pulling your hair to force access to your skin. you made unspeakably sinful sounds at the feeling of him utterly consuming you from the inside out, leaving his own marks beside satoru’s.

as he did this, you grinded against his hard cock pressing against your needy pussy, your tights clenching around his as you moved your hips almost gracefully backward and forward. with each nibble and harsh bite from geto, you whispered a string of curses and cries of pleasure as you locked eyes with satoru who was sprawled out slightly to your right. he had one knee up and his back was slightly arched, his mesmerizing blue eyes wide and cloudy with desire, his white lashes wet with tears as he stroked himself slowly, and then hard and quick, and then slowly all over again. he was edging himself to suguru manhandling you. it was unclear if it was you being beaten and hurt and pleasured all at once that got him off, or if it was suguru geto himself behind you burying his cock into the crevice of your asscheeks as he bit and sucked on the crook of your neck, covering you in hickeys. he was surely attracted to both, you determined, by the way he whimpered and whined into his hand gripping his cheeks on his face, both your name and suguru’s.

and you could feel suguru’s slim eyes staring at gojo as he pleasured you, growling and moaning like a predator consuming it’s prey, and then you quickly came to the revelation that this exchange was not just about you — you had felt it earlier, that mutual lust between them both, between suguru and satoru. not only were they pleasuring you, they were pleasuring themselves to thought of each other as well. and they had both probably fucked each other as best friends a few times as well.

and holy fuck, it made you so fucking wet. you could have came just from grinding against suguru right then and there, from simply soaking in satoru’s submissive cries of pleasure as he edged his poor beaten cock over and over and over again to you and suguru’s own attempts at drawing closer to your high. somehow, the room had just become a thousand times more hotter. then wasn’t just between you and suguru anymore, or you and satoru anymore — this was between suguru, you, and satoru, and the mere thought of that made your entire body quiver in lust as if you had been electrocuted.

finally gathering the confidence to act on your own, you flipped your own body around on suguru geto, rough moving your hips forward against his thick cock as you grabbed his face in his hands and slammed your lips against his. he moaned in surprise at your confidence, though he did not shun it. geto welcomed your lips, placing both of his hands against the small of your waist, and the moving them to play with your bruised ass cheeks. you opened your mouth to allow his tongue entrance, and suguru took that opportunity and ran with it, sighing in pleasure as he buried his tongue into the cavern of your hot wet mouth, exploring every inch of it. you could feel the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves of iciness through the nerves in mouth. at some point, you had both began to drool from the sloppy, drunken kiss, and your face and his were damp. you could hear satoru moan loudly as the slick, lewd sounds of him jerking off filled the room. he must be getting close again.

with a plop, you forced yourself off of geto to fulfill your promise of riding satoru, and geto smiled at you knowingly as you departed from him, his lustful, narrow eyes slimming even more as he grinned, and you returned the smile, your chest swelling with pride. you would show him. you would show geto just how fucking good you could be to his plaything, just how hard you could fuck his best friend and make him scream your name in desire.

you crawled off geto and moved towards satoru, gripping his bare thighs very suddenly and forcing them apart. gojo yelped in surprise, not expecting you to come onto him like this, but did not protest or stop you. his chest heaved up and down as he watched your every move, his eyes moving from yours, to your bouncing tits as you moved around, to the surface of your pussy, to your wet thighs, your plump lips, the marks forming on your neck and chest, everything. satoru gojo was captivated by every inch of your body, personality, and presence, and fuck, he was ready for you. he was so fucking ready.

“you wanna be a good boy for mommy and take your hand off your cock?” you mewled, and your own words escaping your lips so naturally shocked even you. satoru’s eyes widened and he let out a silent gasp, and you could sense suguru’s smirk growing evermore behind you. well, there was no going back now. might as well keep it up.

fuck, you had been waiting for this, waiting to prove to satoru just how sexy and confident you could be, prove to him that you were not to be fucked with. you had daydreamed time and time again about wiping that smug ass grin off his face, and now was your time to do that. suguru geto had motivated you enough, had built up your confidence and determination to act on your desires in the past few minutes for you to actually carry them out, and by the stars above you were gonna fucking do it.

“wh- wha?—“ satoru stammered, but you did not allow him to finish a full sentence. you decided to use this moment as an outlet to let out all of your built up anger and frustration towards the enigma that is satoru gojo in one night of pleasure and pain, and you did just that.

“shut the fuck up,” you stated strongly, smacking the living hell out of his face, and his head snapped towards the wall from the sheer force of the impact. his eyes were wide and glossy, and you could see him bite his lip hard enough to draw blood beneath the curtains of his white bangs. you grabbed his cheeks with your left hand and forced him to look at you through furrowed brows, and with your right hand, you pinned both of his hands above his head on the pillow, forcing them down. “you’re gonna be still for mommy, m’kay? that’s what you wanna fucking hear, don’t you, satoru? you wanna hear the sound of my voice degrading your worthless slut-ass for everything that you fucking are as i ride you into oblivion. that’s what you fuckin want, right, honey?” you cooed, although your words were nothing but sweet.

but they were to satoru. there were stars in his eyes as he looked up at you with those glossy, pretty blue eyes, batting his perfect, long and thick lashes, star struck by the sudden switch in personality you had endured. his cock was so hard that it sprung up to brush against your ass from behind as you straddled him tightly between your knees.

“there you fucking go, princess,” groaned suguru, now stroking his cock as you dominated satoru and hurt him with no mercy. “that’s how you fucking do it. good fucking girl… fuck yessss…” he threw his head back, pumping his wet length and running a hand through his damp, long black hair.

suguru’s praise motivated you to take it even further, and, without any warning, you lifted your hips and put all your weight on satoru, filling his length expand your tight inner walls and hit the surface of your cervix.

“fuck!” gojo cried in shock, and, on instinct, his hands slipped from your grip holding his hands down above his head and move to the flesh of your hips. you slowly began to move on his cock, pulling and teasing his release with each wet, sloppy, drunken, deliberate movement, and he moaned, overstimulated from his previous multiple edging sessions “ughhhhhhhnn.. don’t… stoppp… fuckkk..!”

gojo threw his head pack, his hair sprawled in messily on his forehead and on the silk pillowcase beneath him his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he gripped your hips and thrusted into your warm pussy. he pumped into you over and over and over again with no intention of stopping. now that he had you in his grip, gojo would never let you go — you were his for life now. he wouldn’t just let this be a drunken one night stand, no… “fuck..! ngh!!” he exclaimed in shocking pleasure as the tight walls of your hot, wet womanhood pulled and tugged and squeezed from the base to the tip of his beaten cock, and both of your juices leaked from your hole and onto the bedsheets and on your skin. at this rate, he was gonna get you fucking pregnant… fuck… the idea of you as a mother, with a swollen belly, making dinner for him on a sunday morning as he pressed into you from behind, a cup of hot coffee in his hand, suguru watching tv and drinking his own morning coffee in the living room… the perfect image of his future flashed in his mind in a millisecond just in that moment, and suddenly he didn’t want to pull out. you were all old enough to have a child, you, suguru, and satoru, all at the perfect age to raise one… raising a child, or maybe even two, maybe three, maybe four, with you and suguru sounded like heaven to him… so why not? after all, he couldn’t help it if he came inside that perfect little pussy of yours… it was all too tempting… it all felt too fucking good…

“ah ah ah..! don’t fucking stop mommy- ngh!!” satoru whined as you grabbed his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you fucked him silly, the sounds of slopping and pumping and lewd wetness painting the walls of satoru’s room. he didn’t know how much longer he could contain himself before he came inside-

“fuck it all to hell,” suguru growled, letting go of his cock and moving over to you and satoru, and, all of a sudden, suguru geto’s cock was pressed against the entrance of your asshole as he pushed your back down, forcing your tits against satoru’s face, which he welcomed in surprise, giving him access to your other needy hole. you knew suguru’s intentions the moment he pushed you down, to double penetrate you. you breathed in anticipation as suguru tapped the phone beside you all on the bed, turning his cock’s vibrating piercing on full blast. you gulped. you had done anal only once before in your life, so you were somewhat prepared, but it was still incredibly painful when suguru lubricated your asshole with his saliva and pushed himself in with no warning.

“a-ahh!” you cried in agony, the burning sensation of suguru’s cock in your ass making you see stars for a second from how badly it hurt. you paused for a moment, gasping for air as satoru became aware of the situation, his own thrusts dropping in pace for moment. “fuck fuck fuck!” you cursed in a whisper, lowering your head and squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

it hurt less than the first time you had done anal, which was good, you suppose, but it still fucking hurt like hell. it took a solid sixty seconds and a half before you instructed suguru to start moving.

and then both satoru gojo and suguru geto were pumping their hard, wet cocks inside both of your holes, both pairs of hands fondling and gripping every square inch of your body — neither of them could get enough of you, or of each other’s moans and cries and grunts of pleasure. and you were here for all of it.

soon the pain of you asshole being stretched had dissipated, and you could fully indulge in the pleasure of them both fucking you simultaneously. gojo played with your clit as they both pumped in and out, up and down, and you hardly had to move as both of the men did all the work. you felt like a spoiled princess, you felt like you were in heaven, and you had almost convinced yourself this was all a dream. but it wasn’t. this was all real.

“ah, ah…” suguru moaned in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, already so close to his release from the grip of your tight ass around his thick cock. “tell satoru what a good fucking boy he’s being for us, hm? tell him, y/n, nghhh-“ suguru could hardly contain himself as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his hair sticking in clumps to his neck and shoulders as the muscles of his forearms, biceps, and triceps all clenched as he gripped and smacked and fondled your ass. the vibrations of his cock piercing stimulated the g-spot in your ass so fucking good. you don’t know how much longer you could contain yourself.

suguru didn’t have to tell you twice. you weakly and sloppily kissed satoru, already only a few centimeters from his lips, drool dribbling down his lips as he whined. you raised a hand to gently wipe the tears falling down his cheeks, so indescribably pleasured by both you and suguru it had brought him to tears. you broke the kiss, biting roughly down on his bottom lip before you pulled away, struggling to catch your breath before you spoke.

“y-youre bein such a good boy- ngh-“ you were unable to speak for a moment, and satoru was so entranced by the perfection of your bouncing tits, the juicy wetness of your plump lips, the sensation of your tight pussy pumping him dry, the feeling of his best friend suguru gripping onto his hip with one hand and yours with the other for support as he fucked you from behind, to even care. finally, you were able to continue: “ah, ah..! fuck, satoru, you’re such a good bo- boy for mommy. d-don’t stop. keep making me feel good. you… ngh… you can do that for mommy, hm?”

satoru only nodded, unable to form the words. it wasn’t very long before his cock began to twitch inside of you uncontrollably from his overstimulation. “f-fuck..! suguru.. ngh..!” he whined loudly, so loudly you worried for just a moment the party downstairs could hear you all, but you also found yourself not giving a fuck as you proceeded to bounce on satoru when he couldn’t thrust into you himself anymore. he had also stopped fondling your clit and tits, but you didn’t need him to anymore — him and suguru fucking you at the same time was enough for the knot in your stomach begin to unfurl. satoru whimpered like the pathetic little slut he was, and moaned: “fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking perfect, i-i’m gonna-“

“-m-me too.. ngh!!” you cried the sight of satoru gojo beneath you, his hair a mess against the silk pillowcase, his bangs sticking in clumps against his forehead, his long lashes wet with his tears, his lips wet and swollen from your kisses and bites… fuck, your pussy clenched as you came harder than you ever had before, your inner walls of your pussy and ass simultaneously pulsating and clenching with your release, and for that moment, it felt like your body had ascended into another plane of existence.

“fuck!!” suguru cursed as his pumps in your ass became more sloppy and weak, and you felt the warmth of his seed pouring into you and leaking out… fuck, there was so much… then, finally, satoru came, whining and crying your and geto’s names (and even a few “mommy” and “daddy”s) in unintelligible whispers as his blue irises rolled to the back of his head, so overstimulated from it all that his body violently jerked as he came inside you. both satoru and suguru’s seed leaked from your beaten holes, and the sensation of them both pumping their seed inside you made your high last even longer.

when you all came down, you crawled into bed naked with satoru and almost fell asleep immediately. suguru took it upon himself to throw on some clothes to tell everyone (aside from his frat brothers that lived with him) to get the fuck out, that the party was over — you made note to thank him later. you knew you would all be so fucking hungover in the morning, but you didn’t care. satoru enveloped you in his warm embrace and you fell quickly asleep, suguru ensuring to turn out the lights before he left to call the party off. and about fifteen minutes later, suguru returned, and you could feel hear him lock the door behind him in the darkness of satoru’s room, undress himself again, and crawled into bed on the other side of you, pressing your body against his and falling fast asleep. you went to bed with a smile.

maybe polyamory didn’t sound so bad.

the end.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

holy fuck that took me like three hours to write lmfao. (Ő︵Ő)

anyway, i hope you all enjoyed <3 if you did, please interact! i will also take requests if anyone has any ideas for me!! i’m hoping posting oneshots on tumblr will motivate me to start writing fics on ao3 again lol.

until next time my lovelies!! stay hydrated you horny bitchesssss. ヾ(*▼・▼)ﾉ⌒☆

[hachyxd-blog]

Ray´s B-day fanfic <3

"Today, years ago, my favorite yandere was born from all the visual novels I've had the fortune to see or play. I can separate fiction from reality, but I don't think I'm the only one who would like to be there to hug Ray and give him a little peace. As a small gift, I wanted to make a short fanfic of my coffee addict alongside a little drawing to complement it. I apologize in advance if it's not understood well, English is not my language and I'm using a translator."

@concreteparasite Gracias por crear tal maravilla.

Happy birthday.

Who would have thought it would be possible to keep a secret from the great Binary star. Mc laughed happily in the kitchen as she finished washing the dishes. It had been just over a year since she moved into Ray's home. At first, it wasn't easy; it seemed like the option to leave was given, or rather, it was never up for discussion. After much talking, they managed to make it work together: Mc wouldn't be confined to her new home, but she would always stay in touch with Ray when she went out.

Truth be told, it's not like she could keep a secret from him; after all, he possessed the incredible ability to read minds, but she trusted him not to read hers all the time. Mc really believed it was impossible to turn on her mind... until she discovered it. On her maternal side, she spoke Spanish, and unconsciously she had been thinking in that language, discovering a weakness to Ray's ability. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't fully understand, but there was nothing he could do.

Today, in particular, he seemed very upset. I concentrated as best I could so that the only language I thought in was Spanish and not to ruin the surprise.

"Tell me what you're thinking..." Ray's voice appeared behind me, his hands wrapped around my hips as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was cute.

"I'm not thinking anything important," I said playfully.

"Stop," he said seriously.

"What?"

"You've been thinking in Spanish all day," His voice sounded annoyed, while I tried to contain my laughter.

"Really? I didn't realize."

"It's annoying."

"Well, darling. It's not the end of the world if you don't know everything that's going on in my mind."

Without responding, Ray left me alone in the kitchen and headed to our room, then came out in his superhero suit. Before me was Binary Star in all his glory, the only difference being that he didn't show that fake smile but still looked upset.

Unknowingly, due to my practice, I had been thinking in Spanish again.

Normally, he would give me a kiss goodbye and go to his vigil shift. But today, he flew off the balcony without looking at me. I won't deny that it hurt me. But it meant I was on the right track to keep the surprise.

Ray came back around 5 in the morning. Half-asleep, I felt him walking around the room before lying down on the other side of our bed. It seems he's still upset because he didn't hug me as he always does.

The next morning, I let him sleep, it helped that we slept separately, so I got out of bed easily. After putting on my robe, I went downstairs and asked the neighbor for my package. I had gotten a chocolate cake with coffee to celebrate Ray's birthday. But if I kept it in our house, he would realize I was planning in Spanish. The neighbor agreed to keep the cake at his house along with my gift.

I went back home, made coffee, and took the cake out of its box, and my gift was already on the tray.

In our room, Ray was still asleep. I cleared my throat and started singing "Happy Birthday."

Ray looked for a moment and then covered his face with his pillow. I could see that lovely smile; he was embarrassed.

I left things on the bedside table and threw myself to hug and kiss Ray; I knew I should have let him sleep more, but I couldn't contain myself after all these days preparing the surprise.

In no time, I was caught in his arms.

"Everything... was for this," His voice sounded deeper from just waking up, but he seemed happy.

"Yes, did you forget your own birthday?" I joked, stroking his soft hair, and running my hand over his cheek. "Ignoring them doesn't mean you stop aging, old man."

"No, I just don't usually celebrate it." He ignored my joke and just passed his hand over his face, somewhat frustrated.

"Well, get used to it. This might be the only birthday I manage to keep a surprise. Next year, you'll know what to expect." I exclaimed proudly.

Ray smiled, keeping his eyes closed; maybe it was the fact that he now had someone to be with him for the following birthdays that made him take this even more joyfully.

"If you don't want cake now, we can save it for later." I gave a glance to the table with his cake and gift, along with his essential morning coffee.

"How about the gift?" He pointed to the purple box. "Can I have it now?"

It was at this moment that nerves increased from zero to a hundred. Everything would be decided at this moment.

"Of course," I handed over the gift, watching as he slowly unwrapped it.

Ray's eyes widened as he looked at the contents of the box and then at me, pulling out two handmade dolls of them and a pregnancy test. After a moment of silence, Mc cleared her throat.

"D-don't think I'll give you a gift like this every year." I laughed nervously.

"Since when—" maybe it was shock, but his voice sounded distant, as if he didn't completely believe what was happening.

"I-it's still early, I haven't been to the doctor yet." Ray looked at me as if I had committed a crime. "I-it would have ruined the surprise."

Ray went from surprise to anger to simply accepting the inevitable: the love of his life was forgetful.

"I swear I feel fine. But you're happy, I mean, we talked about this in the past, but maybe you were thinking of another time in the future... I..."

Ray's hands took me by my cheeks, cradling my face, to give me a tender kiss.

"I am, I mean, I'm so happy that I'd like to hold you so tight in my arms and show you how excited I am about this." He gave me a subdued smile.

"Ray, what's wrong?"

"What if I don't do it right, being a good father?"

"Well, no father is prepared for this. We'll learn together..."

I could see Ray's face relax at my touch and my words. His hands surrounded my back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Happy birthday..."

"Thank you..." His whisper was weak, but I felt genuine gratitude.

"Next year, we won't be alone on your next birthday, Mr. Dad."

We stayed hugged for a while. I didn't know what was going through Ray's mind, but whatever it was, I would be with him.

When I set out to eat the cake, I was interrupted by Ray, who carried me to the shower to get ready to go to the hospital. It was funny how from one moment to the next, our small bathroom became a dangerous area in Ray's eyes: slippery floor, sharp-cornered furniture, and a bathtub where I could drown, among many other dangerous things. He took out his phone and started calling to have our entire home redesigned to make it safe for me and our upcoming baby. And may God have mercy on the people in charge if I ever got hurt, no matter how insignificant it was.

If this was going to be my life from now on, it would be a long nine months.

"Your father has gone crazy," I said as I stroked my still flat belly. "But that's how I love him."

[allzelemonz]

Family Dinner: Bruce Wayne X Gender Neutral Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None mentioned Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Fluff, hints of Bruce’s unhealthy habits, found family, Thanksgiving, Bat-pets included Summary: Thanksgiving day at Wayne manor.

Everything on Thanksgiving is planned to the last detail. Firstly, everyone in the Wayne family has patrol duty, team gatherings to go to, and turkey induced comas to enjoy. Secondly, Alfred would never let something so important not be absolutely perfect. Despite not being from the Americas himself, he fully embraced the holiday celebrating its origins when he began working for Thomas and Martha years ago. Bruce has told you all of the stories of perfect Thanksgivings where Alfred got his busy parents to sit and relax, a tradition that now carries on to him and his own children.

When you woke up to find Bruce still in bed, a very rare treat, you relished in it. Being able to hold him without interruption is one of the best feelings in the world. He cuddles into your arms naturally, almost like a baby bat in the cold. It’s only when you brush a hand through his hair that his eyes open, alert as ever.

“Morning, B.” You mutter softly as his sky matched eyes look up at you.

He relaxes, the muscles that tensed upon awakening going right back to their sleepy state. “Morning.”

“You slept in.”

He nods, kissing your cheek before wrapping his arms around you. “Alfred gets moody if I wake up early on holidays.”

“Didn’t stop you on Halloween.”

“That’s different.” He grumbles. “Scarecrow couldn’t wait.”

“Maybe Calendar Man will make an appearance this time.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t jinx me.” Slowly, he sits up and rubs his eyes. “With my luck it’ll be Man-bat.”

“I thought Kirk was happy with his new enclosure at Arkham.” You say, sitting up and stretching lightly.

“He is.” Bruce picks up his robe and ties it on. “But there’s always the chance he could be corrupted. Bribed with a cure… or peaches…”

“Peaches?”

He nods. “Lee says they taste like the edible form of his serum, apparently.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this stuff anymore, and yet…”

Bruce smiles softly, kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs. Remember to stay out of Alfred’s warpath.”

“No kitchen, I know.”

With one more kiss, Bruce walks out of the bedroom, turning down the hall towards the stairs. You gather your clothes for the holiday occasion and follow. As you descend the stairs, the smells of Alfred’s cooking take over your nose. The turkey, clearly seasoned heavily, the gravy and stuffing mixing to make a deep and unique fall smell, and the hint of cooling pies. Upon stepping onto the final landing you catch the sound of faint whining, a few more steps and you can see Ace, Titus, and Alfred the Cat all sitting just outside the threshold to the kitchen. Their heads move in unison, probably following Alfred as he walks. You make your way through the house, passing the library where Jason is sprawled out on the couch with a book, the den where Damian is speaking quietly with Jerry the Turkey and soothing him about ‘one of his brothers being eaten and promising he won’t have any’, and finally the gym where Dick and Tim are playing a spirited game of monkey in the middle with Haley.

You can see Bruce through the far window, standing in the garden. You join him, leaning into his side as he wraps an arm around you. The land surrounding the manor is always nice in the fall, leaves turn as red as Kate’s hair and the sky stays the classic Gotham gray. In the distance is Bat-Cow grazing in a fresh trough you assume Damian filled this morning. Bats chatter in the distance, settling in for bed in the early morning. Everything is peaceful for once.

“Any alerts?” You ask, resting your head on Bruce.

He shakes his head. “It’s the girl’s shift, they haven’t reported anything.”

To be fair, Steph, Cass, Barbra, and Kate tend to run a tighter ship than Bruce when they’re all paired on the same patrol. The last villain to try something on their combined watch was Bane and he was very quickly humbled.

“You have a schedule for today, don’t you?”

Bruce nods. “I’m going to see Harvey this morning, hopefully he stays front long enough we can have a conversation.”

“Then JL?”

“Yeah, it’s a small thing at the Watchtower. Then we’ll go to Clark’s with Damian.”

You hum, thinking of Ma Kent’s cooking. “The farm?”

“You’ll get the Kent rolls, sweetheart, calm down.” He shakes his head. “After Clark’s we have to make an appearance at the charity dinner, Dick and Tim are with us for that. Then I have a patrol shift with them, dinner here with everyone after.”

“Busy day.”

“Always is.” He kisses your head. “I should get going. The guard letting me bring Harvey decent food said he wouldn’t wait to sneak me in forever.”

“Have fun, Bruce. Let yourself enjoy time with your friend for once.”

“You’re turning into Alfred.”

The rest of the day is long, filled with feasts everywhere you go. At the Kents’ home you have a good amount of food and spend some time playing with Krypto and Streaky. Kara and John Henry are happy to make conversation while Bruce catches up with Clark and Lois. It’s not long before you’re back in the car and dressing up for the charity dinner. Bruce puts on his Brucie face and the boys flash their charm for about an hour before you part for their patrol.

It’s not until sunset that Alfred finally rings the dinner bell back at the manor. The dining room fills to the brim with every last one of Bruce’s chosen family. Every bird, bat, Fox, and assorted crimefighters gather around the table while the many pets get their own places, including the larger ones like the visiting Goliath who peek in through open windows. Alfred takes the seat Bruce offers him at the head of the table only after everyone insists, he is the heart of the family after all.

Everyone digs in, conversations fly and minor arguments among siblings and cousins flit around. You catch Bruce smiling more than once throughout the dinner and it makes your heart a little warmer. One by one people finish eating and drift off to different parts in the house. Bruce takes your hand and leads you to the TV room for a movie. Before long, most of the Robins, all of the dogs, and a few of the girls have settled in as well.

The only interruption in the night is Alfred and his cat namesake starting the winter holiday decoration early.

[aineryeo]

The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time

Chapter Synopsis: The second time Kenji Sato met you was during his junior year of high school. Newly transferred and still getting started on being varsity for the baseball team, he overhears his high school crush talk trash about him. Determined to get back at them, he convinces you, the girl who managed to smack him mid-run with a whiteboard, to be his fake girlfriend for 7 days.

In present time, Kenji and Mina discover how to wake the sleeping beauty up from the magic needle. But when this finally happens, Kenji now has to deal with the realisation that the princess... was a gremlin.

Themes & Warnings (Chapter):

Warnings from the General Masterlist | Flashbacks | Racist Remarks (from Ken's high school) | Bit cliche (forgive 🙏) | Imagine old movie school romance vibes!!! | Fluff | Sexual Innuendos | Kenji Sato is in Denial | 9k words

Author Notes:

I had to cut Episode 3 to two parts because I kept wondering why I'm taking so long to write but then I scanned the chapter and realised I was going 11k and there was still a hefty chunk left from the outline 😭 It took a while to flesh everything out since I spent the past week also adding more details to the other chapters to deepen the flavours 🫴🤌 This is still fluff but the next part is where things start going on the jealous and angst start, the fairytale era bout to transition out!!!

I also found a really cool song that pairs with the theme of the high school memory, it's linked on the title! It's super fitting the vocals are amazing aghhjjr!!

The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist

Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time ⇾ Episode 3.2: Fish on Land

Westwood Academy, otherwise known as Westwood University, situated in Los Angeles, is one of the many renowned schools along the state. It hosts preschool to elementary to high school up ‘til college. It's one of the major league schools but is typically known for its.. extravagant prices. Often, along with a list of other universities, they allow for student exchange programs for exceptional scholars, selected around the world, to tour the litter of schools’ labs, attend special classes, or participate in small collaborative projects. Most of it was to allow these one in a million group of children to choose between potential university options.

Of course, even though this prestigious academy offered a massive field for different types of sports and had a pretty amazing reputation for its academic endeavours, for a guy like Kenji Sato, he knew that in the future, he’ll be transferring to the University of Los Angeles, where most athletes start to get drafted into the Major League Baseball drafts.

But that’s not the reason why he’s bursting his way through the halls right now, no. 

Kenji’s running down the hallways because he stayed up too late last night trying to perfect his swing so he can finally get off the bench and play as one of their schools’ main batters. However, it definitely did not help that he spent the days prior studying for his exams too. And now, he slept through majority of his classes, waking up only to find out that in T-minus ten minutes, his Biology class will start, and he’s not too keen on facing the wrath of his teacher chastising him for that Plant Growth Experiment they’ve been rambling on and on about for the past three weeks.

“Out of the way!” Kenji dashes, jumping to avoid the group of students in the hall sitting.

“Sorry, in a rush—”

“Woah, watch those burgers, man.”

So far, he’s been barreling through the hallways great. It’s almost like his athletic instincts are on the high, the adrenaline pumping through his veins being the apt proof needed. 

Jump, duck, dash, side, shwuck!

Kenji can see it, the greenhouse! It’s so close— But the sudden options in his head turn from swerving left, or jumping, to… (a) Crash right into this person rolling out a whiteboard all of a sudden in the middle of the hall without even looking at any passersby, or (b) CRASH but in capital.

The next few seconds, safe to say, were unpleasant.

“Shit, shit, shit!!!” Kenji yells, unable to stop his momentum, all but perfectly rams his face on to the rolling whiteboard.

Overcome with blaring pain on his forehead and nose, Kenji laid on the ground, chest uncomfortably resting on the similarly thrown down whiteboard who was unable to withstand his force. A myriad of groans and repeating ow’s overtook the once silent air. The sound of padding footsteps and a bleary voice soon adds on.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Kenji’s vision was blurry, still trying to adjust to his surroundings, eyes squinting and blinking as he realised that even his torso felt sore from the impact.

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, he feels gentle hands turning him over, pulling him away from the fallen board beneath him, albeit with some difficulty.

“God, you’re heavy.” He hears, moments before feeling his head plop down on pillowy skin.

Soon, his vision adjusts itself, enough so he can see the person holding him by the cheeks right now. And boy, when Kenji says he never felt like his anger dissipated so fast like a balloon deflating upon seeing your face, you best believe him. 

“I think you'll be forming a bruise right here,” You say, all furrowed brows as you turn his face side to side. 

“Oh no, your nose is bleeding now.”

Feeling your soft hold on him disappear, Kenji, all clad in his disarrayed highschool uniform, watches as you try to check your pockets for a handkerchief.

He watches you for a good minute or two trying to figure out where you placed your damned handkerchief, or so you say. Groaning as he picks himself back up, supporting his weight from the back, he distantly hears you say ah! Before he felt you practically shove the thing in his face.

“Here! To wipe your… blood.” You say awkwardly, the bell had rung a minute ago while Kenji thought it was just the ringing in his ears, the more desolate surroundings proved otherwise. He gracefully accepts your offer, lightly tapping the fabric on his nose that gladly did not crook from the impact. Still, it hurt.

You stood up to get the empty whiteboard back on its feet as Kenji stayed seated on the ground in the middle of the hallway that led to the greenhouse. There were no words spoken as both you and him got your bearings. 

At least I got a good excuse to miss Biology now. Kenji randomly thinks as he sighs.

But it isn’t until he hears distant footsteps and voices did his instincts rear in. In hindsight, there was probably no reason for him to have felt so nervous to get caught or anything, it’s not like his nose bleed was fake to not garner a visit to the infirmary. Even so, he felt nervous to get caught. Enough to haphazardly drag you inside the room you came in, bringing the whiteboard along before the door slammed closed. Getting into trouble was not in his to-do list today, not after almost getting into a fight with a basketball player last week.

Your handkerchief was lying on the floor, the surprisingly soft hands of the boy you just met were muffling your surprised yelps with his palm, the other hand shushing you, his pointer finger pressing to his own lips. When the voices come closer, Kenji finally realises that it wasn’t a teacher that was walking towards them. It was his first crush ever since he transferred in Los Angeles when he was 8.

“So, are you going to respond to Ken-Ken anytime soon, Ash?” A litter of giggles follow as Kenji felt the heat rising up to his ears from the embarrassing nickname.

“Stoppp, you know I have to be nice because I’m class rep.” Ashley whines, stomping her foot and stopping just in front of the door of the classroom where you and Kenji hid. The action made you and him duck to the floor, nervous to get caught.

“Have you seen his eyebags lately? He looks horrible! I can’t believe he even asked for my help with Chemistry earlier, seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?”

"I know, right? And what’s with his accent? It’s like, get over yourself. He tries too hard sometimes. That’s probably why he’s just benched in the baseball team." Her friend snickers.

"And don’t get me started on his lunches. So gross!" Another one pipes in. “He eats raw fish and even eggs sometimes. Eugh…” She lurches.

Kenji hears a sigh, before the familiar voice of Ashley cuts through her friends. “Anyway, let’s go finish fetching the plants,”

“Didn’t Ken-Ken forget his project?”

“Talk about going against his nature, haha.”

The whole conversation made his shoulders and hands drop once their footsteps disappear. His demeanour immediately went from running through the halls to lying on the floor, and this time, it’s not because of a rolling whiteboard. Kenji sighs as he sits back on the floor, hands behind him as he looked up, the classroom was relatively dark, it was one of the extras, after all. His eyes close as he breathes in heavily, contemplating; ignoring the continuous trickle of red down his chin.

You, on the other hand, were perplexed. But seeing the situation, you can guess at least that much. After all, you were entering college at the ripe age of fifteen. In a tongue that Kenji hadn’t heard in a long time aside from phrases from his mom, you spoke. Quietly. Afraid to topple the fragile pieces that was the boy you just met.

“Was that you they were talking about?” You get the forgotten handkerchief on the floor, dried blood on some parts as you try to pat the dust away.

Kenji’s eyes open. And they meet yours. Worried yet curious, shimmering orbs, and gentle delicate hands that dabbed on his nose.

“Yeah.” He replies meekly, forgoing the language his peers spoke in, now matching yours. He didn't miss a beat in his language class, and his mom would definitely chastise him if he didn't know how to speak his mother tongue at all.

You give him a lopsided smile. “It would have been really awkward if you didn’t speak Japanese.”

Kenji chuckles at this. “Had doubts? What, not Japanese enough for you?”

You hum. “Does it matter? Being enough of one or the other.”

“...Well, no..” 

Kenji huffs, laying on his back. “But it sure would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

“Laying down isn’t good if you’re having a nose bleed.” You frown, about to reach down so you can pinch his nose. 

As Kenji rummages through his brain, talking about how love, even though it was only a minor crush, absolutely sucks; his mind runs over what you said. 

Nose bleed… 

Then like a lightbulb; a sudden, stupid idea pierces through his blinded teenage head as he grabs your wrist and sits upright.

“You gave me this nose bleed.” Kenji starts, pointing to said appendage. And you were about to apologise, but he continues far too fast. “So, you have to do something for me.”

“What? Isn’t my handkerchief and recommendation to go to the infirmary not enough?”

“Wasn’t the one hogging the middle of the hallway.”

“Well I wasn’t the one running in the hallway. Section 5.8 of your school’s student handbook said no running in the halls.”

“Your sch—” Kenji’s eyes drift down to see that you aren’t wearing the standard uniform for the academy. Instead, you were in civilians. “Ohhhh,”

“Hah, can’t believe an exchange scholar like me know more than a veteran.” 

“Never said I was a veteran.” Kenji shrugs. “And even if I was, what kind of normal person just rolls out a big whiteboard without looking outside?”

And just like that, it felt like there was some sort of.. mischievous jazz in the background, the words kept coming out, and out. Your arms and his start crossing, and you both inch closer and closer, with every retort.

“Have you ever heard of speed limits? You should stop dreaming about getting a driver’s licence at this point, Sir.”

“Getting this show on the road, huh? Well… ever heard of mid-lane hogging, Ma’am?”

“Oh? Did you just use an idiom literally? Cheesy.” You roll your eyes.

“Actually, that was a double entendre. I used it literally, and as intended. Too bad my ingenuity went over your head. Aren’t you supposed to be one of those exchange scholars? Did they get you mixed up with someone else?”

“I wish ingenuity was an antonym for genius right now.” You shake your head with a faux frown.

“Running out of fuel? ‘Cause that was pretty lame.” Kenji harrumphs, not noticing his nose bleed had stopped minutes ago. “Admit it. Your car crashed.”

“Is it my fault if your car crashed into mine?” 

“Flat tire.” 

Huh? 

What was he— your eyes follow his, and it stares from your chest, back to your eyes. Still confused, something Kenji is quickly able to notice, he repeats what he said with a smirk.

“I said… you’re a.. Flat. Tire.”

Realising where he was going, you felt blood boil up to your head as your hand begins to raise. “Ohoh! You monster! I’ll give you more than a nose bleed when I’m done with you—!”

“I’d be… flat-tered.” Kenji pipes up one more time. 

You were not flat! You were just… a late bloomer! That’s it! 

Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had no qualms with your chest at all, no. And you were definitely not lacking in that department. He just thought that it was a metaphor for someone being so damn… disagreeable. It wasn’t his fault that your shirt was pulling down and he spared but a minute glance.

In all honesty, both of you, stuck in that moment, forgot what you were arguing about in the first place. When your hand was about to land smack on his cheek, he grabs it and pulls you closer to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Come on, help a victim out. We’ll just be giving them… something else to talk about.”

~

You did not know why you’d agreed to this. 

But you did. 

“No, no. Absolutely not! Plus, I’m not even popular or something, what statement are you really making there?”

“Well… you’re really pretty.”

He was incredibly insistent, and you felt like you owed him even though you gave him your handkerchief because it had his blood on it. Definitely not because your brain fried when he casually called you pretty with such an earnest face, like arguing would not even make sense to him. You would’ve called him dumb, stupid, or… or something! If he wasn’t speaking so smoothly earlier. Clearly, he does his homework and then some.

At the time, while he decided to skip Biology to head to the clinic with you in tow, you got to know each other just a little bit. Your new.. friend, knew that you’ll be going back to Japan in a few days, so he had to be bold to really make his statement. The stakes were low, and the rewards, at least for Kenji, could be high; enough to save face and show everyone that he does not care about the squeaky class representative.

Kenji preferred to speak to you in Japanese so that only few, if not anyone, could really overhear what you two were talking about.

Eventually, you really had to go and promised to meet in front of the empty classroom where you two hid the morning next day, when your group would have to do some collaborative projects. 

And when you separate and return back… Imagine your group, mixed with different ethnicities, academic nukes as you would like to call them, sees you with no whiteboard in hand after being gone for almost an hour or two… embarrassing.

Even more so, when he comes to school the next day, not even waiting to go to your designated meeting location so he can hug you in the middle of their field, catching your group off guard. He’d talk to you and call you a slew of nicknames, most notably…

“Sweetheart! Got you some sandwiches that my mom made. Wanna go eat lunch together at the cafeteria?” Emphasis on the cafeteria, his thick brows wiggling at the word.

He’d hold your hand, and if there was free time for his practices and your little assigned activities, he’d be sitting next to you by the bleachers as you read through the material your temporary mentors recommended. He was sweaty, and he’d be gasping for air, but a wide grin was on his face as he told you he’d stolen so many bases this time. And that he’d hit a few good home runs, how he’ll definitely get a spot on the main team today, all before his coach would call him back with a loud, stern voice. 

“Sato!”

He’d leave, yes. But not before he gives you a kiss on the cheek before waving you off as he jogs backwards with a stupid grin.

“What’re you reading?” Kenji would ask. 

You’d look up from the cafeteria table, and he’s leaning closer to you to try and get a read in.

“Advanced Robotics: Pioneering Techniques and Applications by Robert Callaghan.” You reply, not missing a beat in your reply.

Kenji would whistle and then proceed to sit beside you as he takes out his lunch. A bento box. 

“Want to do a lunch switch? I always wanted to do that.” He asks with puppy eyes matched with a big smile, hands clasped together as he pleaded. 

“And I loveee curry!” He adds on.

You notice that he was easy to change demeanours when it came to you. Whether it was because you were from Japan too, or because he knew you'd be leaving, allowing for him to continue acting how he wants to without any true repercussions— you.. would never know.

You smile before sighing out a sure after popping out a deal that he had to buy you ice cream after though, to which he hollers and fist bumps the air as you exchange boxes with an eager face. 

You’ll both be in sync when you pick the food with your chopsticks, sighing out a satisfied puff of air while both your cheeks were lathered with the comforting flavour of home.

He never asked for your number. But he’ll wait out of the lecture rooms you’d be in that day, saying he’s just asking the teachers around where the scholars were so he can rush over; offering to carry your bag and walk in step with you. 

All in the name of getting back at his ex-crush, of course. 

And every time he catches a glimpse of the angered look on his ex-crush, he attunes it to the blooming joy in his chest when he glances back at you, going on a rant about how no, they should have planned the encoding before building the robot. So now, we lost!

You’ll feel a ruffle on your head and a laugh from the taller boy beside you.

Then, you’ll arrive to the front gates. Kenji standing still as you say: “You don’t have to act here anymore, you know? I doubt anyone’s watching anymore.”

Kenji clears his throat, coughing a little, avoiding your gaze. “Well… You might get kidnapped for all I know. I won’t have a sweetheart by then, wouldn’t I?”

“Pfft.” You fail to conceal the bubbling laughter from your throat. 

“You’re cheesy as hell,” You tease back, taking your clasped hands away from his so you can lean sideways as you grin. “...sweetheart.” 

Kenji could barely get a stuttered reply out before the familiar black car that was from the exchange program drives you to your shared hotel with the other scholars and professors. That day, and the following would go by the same. With him simply giving a lame wave off before the escort drives you away.

All until you finally had to return to Japan; your last day. Like clockwork, however, even on your last day, Kenji would walk with you to the front gates. His steps slow every second, and you would mirror him, you’d go slower, and slower, and even more so; still, you arrive at the front doors.

When Kenji placed a heavy hand to open them, it revealed a slew of raindrops falling from the stormy sky.

“Ah, it wasn’t raining earlier.” Kenji notes. “Got to practise and everything…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Really? Seems like it’s been going on a while.” You appraise quietly, Kenji only hums in reply.

Like the rain falling in the sky, there was a heavy downpour that neither of you could ever place in the meagre age of highschool, even if you were advancing to college much faster.

“So, you’re going back to Japan today?”

“Yup.” You awkwardly reply as you sway on your feet. Back and forth. “Still have to actually graduate high school before picking my college, you know?”

And it’s quiet again as you both try to think of what to say. It was only a week, and yet… Kenji had never had such a true friend since he moved to Los Angeles when he was a young kid.

“Well, if you wanna see me again, since I know you’ll miss me— oof.” You punch his chest lightly, making him puff out air, as you both eventually chuckle.

“Who says I’ll miss you? You just coerced me into getting chummy with you. Never again.” You huff, crossing your arms and raising your chin indignantly.

“All I’m saying is… if you pick a university close by, I’ll be at ULA soon. I’ll get into the Dodgers for sure.” He’s told you this in one of your many little conversations. The University of Los Angeles, home of the LA Dodgers and the Dodger Stadium.

You look at him and you share a genuine smile as the breeze from the rain sends a peculiar sparking chill down both your spines. 

“Sure. I’ll come visit when I’m nearby… hopefully.” You trail off.

Even with the laughter and the once more inevitable silence, there was always something on the tips of yours and Kenji’s tongue. Something to say, some things to ask. And yet, you ball on your feet and he thinks of letting go of your hand that he realises he was clasping too tightly in an embrace with his own fingers.

However, when the recurring black car arrives, you let go before he does, as you dashed through the rain. You turn back, and Kenji’s watching from the safety of the school entrance as you get drenched even though you try to put your bag over your head. 

You want to say something, anything. Yet all you could do is give a solemn wave and a smile.

He waves back and you turn away to jog closer to your ride back home, a few steps away from the gate, form stilling as you contemplate getting into the car.

You glance back, and he’s turned away, walking deeper into the school, probably so he won’t get wet. And your mouth opens, but it says nothing; calls out no one.

Your eyes flit to the black car; one last chance. 

You can’t help it. You want to tell him more. 

You want to tell him how you wish him luck on his career, maybe wish he could find better friends, find a better girl to crush on— and you turn back, one last time, words burning on the tip of your tongue. 

But it dies down when your vision meets a familiar uniform. 

Kenji’s chest, heaving, as you both get wet in the onslaught of the rain; his hand on your wrist, willing you to stop, as he opens and closes his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue; unknowingly mirroring each other in ways you barely had the time to think about after spending only seven days within each other’s presence.

But before you could even squeak out a word, you feel his bigger hands wrap around your now cold cheeks, and in no time… 

His warm, soft lips on yours. 

Your eyes close, following his tilted head as your hands reach up to hold the hands caressing and holding your face in place. It felt like a sun in the rain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt; and it distantly reminds you of an old childish memory back in the old playground in Odaiba before you and your brothers had to move away to your Aunt’s cafe.

It felt like an eternity of your inexperienced lips melding into each other, and suddenly all too fleeting when you finally pull apart. The honking of the horn from your driver finally takes you both out of your trance. The sudden shattering of the scenario made you glance back to the school entrance, where Kenji’s crush, the reason why you started all of this with him, was standing and watching; and suddenly, you feel your heart pull back the same way that you pulled your body away from him, lightly pushing his chest away.

“I’ll see you.” You whisper, a hint of sadness that Kenji picked up on too late; eyes trained on your similarly drenched figure rushing to the front seat of your escort. 

He was too dazed, trying to sculpt the image of his first kiss into his brain. That is, if he forgoes the girl who kissed him when he was seven.

“Good luck, Jiji! I’ll see you.” You wave with a forcibly mischievous tone, as if you didn’t feel anything from that kiss, you close the door to the black car whose engine was finally preparing to take off from the high school.

Kenji stands there, wordless, ears red not just from the kiss, but now from that… cute nickname.

“I’ll… see you.” He replies, raising his hand weakly, not caring if the rain still poured heavily on him.

It took a minute after the car left did he realise.. Wait, what was her name again?

“Wait. She knows my name. She knows my name—?” He must be the stupidest guy alive for not even asking anything about you… your number, or… or, or your damn name. 

Kenji grasps his hair, berating himself inside for his stupid decisions. Of course, you know! He never asked yours because he resorted to calling you those cheesy pet names. He didn't think it would matter. 

But then he kissed you and now, suddenly, he knows it matters so much.

 Fuck. 

Fuck! 

The car was already driving away, and— and Ashley, who seemingly came out of nowhere for Kenji Sato whose mind was only running with thoughts of you and his stupidity, was talking about something, something getting her jealous and she knows, and—

Kenji doesn’t get to hear the rest of her statement as he begins running into the rain, trying to not lose sight of the car where you sat. Neither you whose face was currently buried in your hands, willing yourself to forget of the meaningless kiss, nor the driver who was focusing on the road ahead, was able to see the boy trying to catch up as the engine simply revs faster along the empty road.

He borrowed a bicycle just laying on the sidewalk, the owner, who looked away for a second, yelling at him. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise!” Kenji yells as he tries to pedal through the storm like his life depended on it.

As he rides through the rain, he tries to yell after the car. “Wait, sweetheart, come back!”

“I didn’t do it because of her, I—” He heaves, losing his breath and feeling cold as the car goes faster, the rain falling heavier in turn; rumbles of thunder following suit. 

I didn’t kiss you because she was there. Was what he wanted to say.

Could we keep in touch? Was what he wanted to ask.

Please pick a university close by. Was what he wanted. Really, really wanted. From you.

Kenji pedals harder, his muscles burning as he pushes against the heavy downpour. He can see the car’s taillights glowing dimly in the distance. He’s gaining on it. Just a little more…

“Sweetheart!” He yells out, his voice barely audible over the roaring storm. For a moment, he thinks he sees the car slow down, as if you heard him. His heart leaps with hope. He pushes harder, the distance between him and the car shrinking.

But just as he gets within a few yards of the car, it speeds up again, the taillights growing fainter. Kenji’s legs are screaming in protest, his lungs burning from the effort. He’s so close, yet so far.

He reaches out a hand, as if he could touch the car, as if he could make you hear him. But the rain obscures his vision, and the car speeds away, disappearing into the distance.

Kenji finally stops running, the bicycle falling to the ground as he bends over, trying to catch his breath. He’s soaked to the bone, every part of him aching, but the worst pain is in his chest.

In the distance, the car disappeared from view, taking you along with it.

“Sweetheart…” he whispers to himself, feeling the sting of regret seeping into his being.

Even with all his developing athletic might, Kenji Sato, who was still barely entering the cusps of his future stardom, could not catch up to his first crush. Thoughts forever unvoiced  to the person that mattered enough for him when he was still a junior in high school.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was hard.

Kenji’s day would start at around 5 AM, and end… its end was dependent, really. He would feed the baby, research more about kaiju, study whatever form or strategy Coach Shimura would give, clean the baby's poop, entertain her, and generally stop her from lashing out. Then train and look stupid in this season's games because he wasn't getting some apt sleep. Sometimes it was paranoia that the baby would cry or need something, most of the time it's because the baby did cry and needed something.

Aside from his baseball, baby, and Ultraman responsibilities, there still was the unknown variable that was… well, you.

The half-kaiju human. 

The giant mermaid. 

You were silent a lot of the time, and often it would pass in Kenji's mind that you were either a ghost or a living fairytale. Maybe a witch cursed you and took away your voice, or maybe a witch cursed you and forced you to sleep for long periods of time. Because after you.. took that ice bath with him, you laid still in bed for the next two days.

Kenji would thank the damn heavens when you were awake, even for just a day before you slumbered for abnormal periods of time again. Whenever you were awake, the baby would be easier to tend to. Less hungry, more happy; she'll make grabby for you when you go down, and you’ll lay there, your head on the glass container as that familiar tune keeps the baby in a state of calm for the rest of the day. Often, you would forget to go back to the bedroom and Kenji would come home, sweaty from ball practice to see you asleep in the basement, the giant kaiju baby curled up where you were. Those were the days when you’d wake up when he wasn't home.

When you did wake up and he was home? Well, let's just say that Kenji… could never complain. He’ll get shit from his team and his Coach, but then he's home early that day and you just happen to be awake? You're bounding to him like a magnet on a metal pole. A warmth blanketing his chest, enough to let him sigh out his grievances for the day as he opens the front door and sees your happy face.

He may not understand what he's doing to make you feel overjoyed, but he'll take it. He’ll take it, like how he takes your simple pleas for a hug, like how he takes your face burying into his neck. And he’ll take your open arms, willing him to lay down in bed with you when all things are done, your hands combing through his hair as you coo the familiar sounds of the ocean in his ear. Maybe that's the reason why he’d always carry you back to his room when you fell asleep with Baby even though the guest room had been available for a while now.

“I have now gathered 3 weeks worth of data on the woman, Ken. Would you like the analysis?”

Ah.

Kenji grogs his way up from his bed, your arms back to laying limply, sliding down his naked torso; he preferred sleeping with no shirt on, and he would have been more embarrassed sleeping with a girl he didn't know if he wasn't sure that you were just.. an affectionate creature, person— still figuring that part out.

“Sure, go ahead, Mina.” He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he slouches on his mattress.

“Her last steady transformation into her kaiju form was the time when you took an ice bath with her. A significant difference in her injuries were found compared to her injuries the day before. However, it seemed to have slowed majorly since. Her body seems to prioritise external and surface-level injuries, however as is, she is having trouble truly healing her leg fractures in kaiju form. What I have gathered from my scans is that her severe tail fracture presents differently, or rather, not at all when she inevitably transforms back into her half-human self. She has attempted transformation a couple of times when in proximity of the baby, all of which only lasted less than 3 minutes.”

Kenji nods, taking it all in. However, he can't help but snort when the thought pops in his head. “So, what? I should take a bath with her again and see if that makes it better?”

The robot remains silent, and Kenji basks in the awkward bliss of forgetting that Mina is not exactly programmed to be the best buddy in terms of jokes landing.

“If you wish so, Ken.”

Kenji sputters at this, but he realises he might have been too loud as he looks back. Though futile, considering the information he just heard, you would probably be asleep for days even if he screamed all he wanted, considering your everlasting affection for him last night; the pattern was undeniable. The reminder of your comforting caresses sends an involuntary.. pleasurable shiver down his spine.

So Kenji, in turn, whisper-yells to Mina. “It was a joke!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I should tell dad to install a comedian chip in you.” He crosses his arms. “So? What should we do? We can't have her sleep forever. If we can get her up and going, raising the baby would be ten, no, a hundred times easier! Have you seen how much the baby likes her mama?”

“While she is not her biological mother, yes, I have observed the phenomenon. My theory is that she has connections with Gigantron prior.”

This makes Kenji perk up. “Really? How’d you know?”

“She has lingering scales and residue from the passed kaiju.”

“Wait..”

“No,” Mina immediately interjects. “I’ve discretely gotten samples from her tail when she transforms; quite easy to gather due to their wide difference in colour. I believe their relations are similar to the idea of companionship. They must have been friends. Especially considering Gigantron is oviparous and that they are both Female.”

Kenji lets out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding. It was just.. an unpleasant thought. He didn't even see it as possible, considering your kaiju was a mermaid. But what did he know? That's why he was flipping textbook over textbook in hopes of understanding both you and the baby some more.

“On the course of that line of thinking, I am sure she's not taken, Ken. Rest assured. She, like Gigantron, seems to be the sole of her kind. And since she looks to be predominantly human, I doubt animals were attracted to her.”

“Okay, getting a little graphic here. I did not need to know any of that.” He shakes his head, putting his hand up towards the floating ball.

Today was a weekend, he just flunked his game again yesterday, and everything was going awful as it usually did. Until he went home and realised it was one of his lucky days. Slept like a baby last night, and today, he can sleep in because when you tuck the baby in, normal wake up time is moved. Plus, she won't fuss if Mina is to serve the school of fish for breakfast that day.

So now, as Kenji stretched his bare arms back, he looks to you and then back at Mina.

“So, how do we get her better?”

[...]

“I have deduced that water may be the primary factor in her physical healing process. Since she is waterborne, it could only be natural.” Mina explains, floating next to Kenji's shoulder as the man, dressed in only his sweats, carried you in his arms all the way to the tub in the bathroom this time.

“Alright, water makes her better.”

You, right now, kept to your iridescent appearance. However, your litter of scales and the webs between your fingers were disappearing. The only semblance left that Kenji would ever deem inhumane is how silky your skin was, much like your unusual hair, and eyes, if you opened them. His mind briefly flashes to when you got in the ice bath with him, when your features sheened a bit more natural than it usually was. A lot of questions lingered on Kenji's tongue.

“Remember when she healed me that night, Mina?”

The bot whirrs and affirms. “Yes. I remember your recount of it. Since I did not witness the act, I do not have much information. Perhaps her innate regenerative capabilities can be conducted. Did you notice anything strange at the time?”

Kenji thought hard. But who was he kidding? He went stupid the moment you dipped into the bath with him. He could've left but he didn't, not when you had him in this sort of.. chokehold. Finding himself wanting your affection, your acts of spoiling him, while he’ll have this forming desire to please you.

“...No.” He meekly replies, not really wanting to spare Mina any more details of the day; even though Kenji was sure that the AI knew he just melted into you that night the same way he would whenever you waked to coddle him and the baby… It just always seemed to work so well.

Kenji places you into the tub gently.

“Mina, one last thing before you handle the bath. Research more about my symptoms, tell me if you find anything, alright?”

“Yes, Ken.” Mina replies, allowing Kenji to walk out of the large bathroom as Mina undresses you from Kenji’s clothes, changed daily by the bot as well.

[...]

“I believe it is your body's natural response to avoid the physical pain you feel in your kaiju form.” Mina’s voice was slightly muffled by the closed door that led to the bathroom.

Kenji came barreling back in while preparing his special shake when he felt this inexplicable wrapping of panic in his chest. It's familiar, and he knows it's not his.

“Mina? What's going on?” His stern voice cuts through the whimpers and the soft cries in the bathroom.

“Ken.” Mina acknowledges his presence as his eyes dart to the tub.

You were about to transform to your kaiju. Slowly getting bigger. Kenji notices this, taking you away from the tub, as you slowly but surely developed your kaiju features with each whine from your lips.

“We gotta get her to the basement stat.” Kenji almost barks the order out, wide strides as he ran to the elevator.

“And the baby?”

“Baby will have to wait for a bit.” Kenji replies, tapping his foot as the elevator took him and Mina down. The pink kaiju still wrapped in her own self, dozing.

“Uhhh, water, right?” The elevator dings, and by now you were getting a little too big even for Kenji’s better strength. He doesn’t waste time transforming into his counterpart, allowing you to lay on his palms as you grew, and with your size, came your more prominent wounds.

“Open the water gates, Mina. And extend a platform around the window.”

By now, your tail was in full display and you size was enough for him to carry you in his arms while in Ultra. Your eyes still closed in pain as you let out soft, vulnerable cries. It grasps at Kenji’s heartstrings more than you’d ever know. Finally, Ken managed to get settled on the extended platform just on the other side of his wide underwater window, where the baby was slowly but surely rubbing her eyes awake.

“Mina, are you sure she’s okay?”

“She will become better when she is in water. It stimulates her natural DNA, she will heal faster there.” Mina assures.

Kenji nods slowly, eyes never leaving your forcefully closed ones. Your hands were clutching yours and his chest simultaneously. Looking closer across your scale-addled body, conveniently covering the swells of your breasts before lightly avoiding the area of your tummy, only to connect to your magnificent tail— that he notices only now, was bent in a slightly awkward shape. When he reaches out a hand to assess the damage, even the smallest touch made you jolt and open your eyes with downturned brows.

“Hi…” Kenji whispers. “Sorry… Uhm,” He never did call you much of anything, did he? So he blurts out the first thing that came to mind. “— Sweetheart. Did it hurt? Hm? It’s okay, you feel better here, right?”

Surprisingly, you nod, as if you understood him. The whimpers die down as you suck in a breath. Seems like you liked your little nickname.

“Good girl.” Kenji praises, and he feels that familiar blanket around his chest; joy. Oh, you liked that too? Could you actually understand? “Keep taking deep breaths, okay?”

Amidst the seawater where the island rocks and the school of fish would provide the blue atmosphere its renowned ambiance, you did something that actually did blow Kenji and quite possibly Mina’s, minds. 

“Thank you.” You’d said.

Kenji would look at you, his Ultra’s glowing eyesight mixing with the bioluminescent glow of the water, aquamarine and sky blue against the monochromatic shades of blue from the once undisturbed waters.

“Kenji.” You’ll add, not breaking eyesight against the Ultra who held you close to his chest.

The man in question was speechless. Your voice catching him off guard, he’d heard it in small hums and coos, and cries— but now, you’ve actually said something. He was still unable to speak, but the yawn of the baby and the familiar shrieks as her tubby hands banged on the glass container to face you and Kenji, begging to be part of the circle.

“It seems the baby has awoken. What would you like to do, Ken?”

You notice this, and peer off his shoulder to look the baby in the eye. She pouts and cries, and your hand moves to beckon her over.

“Baby, come.” You said simply.

“Open the container, Mina, and let her out.” Kenji instructs, finally broken out of his self-induced trance.

When the AI does as it was told, the tiny pink kaiju, tiny in comparison to her step-in parents that is— had begun its steps out into the water, Kenji almost yelps as he forgot that the added extension didn’t reach the gates. Baby who didn’t know how to swim yet, made Kenji inwardly panic when she sank for even a quarter of a second. All before she seemed to be wrapped in a bubble of water that made her float all the way to both you and him, with it popping so she landed in between the closed space of yours and Kenji’s torsos.

She squeaked happily.

It was almost what one could consider a picture-perfect family moment. And Mina was sure to capture the moment in question; if not but to send it to Professor Sato. Taking a vial of a sample from the now luminescent water was also one of Mina’s agendas, which she does discreetly.

“You can talk?” Kenji asks once you three got settled, with papa being the carrier of the brunt. He's deeply fascinated. 

“How?”

[...]

 Two weeks had passed since Kenji and Mina found out that you were able to understand and communicate because you were listening in to both him and the AI in your sleep or the few times you’ve been awake. Since then, the routine changed up once again, now that you were more frequently awake.

You still couldn’t do complicated schedules, but there were a mix of positive and negative setbacks, as all things are. The most positive side is that you’re there now for the baby, you’re eager to learn from Mina who’d play you educational videos or give you books to read after you relearnt your basic language, of course. And life seems to be doing slightly better for Kenji now that you were truly taking on the mom role.

“Well done, Sato.” His coach grunts, arms crossed. “Your plays suddenly got better this week. Whatever you're doing, don't mess up like last times.” 

Now, you might be wondering: Okay, so what's the downside?

Dishes cluttered as sounds of footsteps throttling wake Kenji up in the middle of the night. And if he hones his listening, sounds of a left-open TV show and some uncontrolled laughter was coming from the living room. He’d move his arm to pat the— you guessed it— empty space beside him. 

Of course you were still up.

When your hunger bout started the same day that you began taking regular rests in the seawater platform by the basement, Kenji taught you that there was food more delicious than Baby's diet. Which was raw, slimy, uncooked, alive fish.

So, he started you with the next best thing: Sushi.

“See? Better than raw— better than live fish, right? Mmmm~” Kenji watches as you take hold of a roll cautiously, looking at him with an unsure face.

You were so enamoured by the taste. So much so, it was endearing at first. He says at first because he didn't know he just unlocked a major foodie within you. You're morbidly curious, and you have an insane appetite. Mina had to work double-time to answer all your questions once you got started on your Language lessons.

Do these little… creatures— 

“Ants.” Kenji inserts for you.

“Do they have feelings? If I take away this grain of sugar, will they get angry? Sad?” Your way of speech was still… developing, clearly. You tended to speak more formally because of the educational material.

He wishes he can read your thoughts to that extent, but he’s stuck with… whatever you did right now. 

Sometimes, he’d feel when you were happy, most of the time it would be when he opens the front door; your bare feet pit-a-patting on the solid ground of his private home before you jump in his arms. He’d feel when you’re sad, whenever a favourite character from whatever TV show seems to get sick, or worse, die. 

Oh, he’d feel you sad, alright. 

He’d have to deal with it in bed when you’re wetting the pillowcases with your tears and small sobs. Rarely does he feel you getting mad. The only other time he can remember is when he brought the baby home with him the first time.

And all those little things. The distance doesn’t seem to matter, he’ll feel a distinct mirror of what you did permeate through his chest. He won’t know from what, but he’d be left to speculate whenever Coach Shimura scolding him, or his teammates were talking behind his back for his recently shitty performance. It was a nice distraction, and since, he notices, that your most common emotion seems to be happy, it lightens him up. Wait, what was he saying again?

Aside from that, scratch a good half of what he said— if you considered your massive amounts of food intake, there was the issue of you actually eating. It was a hefty job teaching you table manners and Kenji was running out of shirts.

“Minaaaa,” Kenji calls out with an exasperated tone, bounding into the living room, hair messy and body heavy with you clinging on to his form like a backpack while giggling.

“I am running out of clothes to wear. We need to get her,” He points to you and bite his finger lightly. “—her own things.”

“Of course, Ken.”

“And you,” He jumps, and your hold around his neck tightens, much like your legs around his torso. “Get off!”

It’s a minute of Kenji trying to get you to let go of him, with you eluding his touches to the side of your stomach that he recently found out you’ve grown ticklish to.

“Ohoh, you want to make this difficult, princess?”

“But I do not want to!!! Stop!! Stop— HAHAH— Noooooo!!!”

He managed to tackle you to the couch as your laughs and heaving wheezes filled the air; not noticing that he started laughing along, hands unyielding from trying to rub over the sides of your sensitive stomach. 

“Ken, I apologise for interrupting such a precious moment, but what in particular do you wish for me to order for her?”

Snapping out of his daze, he’s suddenly made aware of how he was leaning down on you; shirtless. You wore one of his dark blue long-sleeved shirts along with his boxers, shirt slightly riding up, the other slowly riding down in contrast. Your legs were loosely resting around his waist with you still looking up the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath. And when your eyes meet his, it feels like his heart jumped to his throat, his nerves getting the best of him made him immediately jump off the couch.

Kenji clears his throat, hand on his hip while turning away from you to respond to Mina who he dearly hopes does not make another comment about—

“Your temperature is rising. Shall we continue this discussion another time? You might develop a fever.”

“Aha, no, Mina.” He saves face. “I’m fine, I’m not sick. It’s just— it’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Sick? Fever?” You pipe up as you begin walking slowly towards Kenji who flinches as he senses your oncoming presence. “You are sick, Kenji? I have seen characters become sick on TV. Are you going to die? Kenji!?”

Your hands were gripping his shoulders so tightly with every word, your face scrunched in so much worry as if he had Stage 4 Cancer. You started shaking him haphazardly in your bouts.

“Answer me!”

“You are not allowed to die!”

“Come to the water with me. I must heal you. Immediately.”

Kenji, a little dazed from the back and forth of your earlier shaking, finally finds a reply when you determined that you can most likely heal him, moving to drag him to the bathroom; presumably back in the bath tub.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, sweetheart. Calm down.” Your tight grip on his hand reminds him of another fact that he and Mina has learned.

Somehow, you’re able to retain a semblance of your kaiju strength in half-human form. He finds this out in an instant when he tried to deny you ramyeon once when you were still prone to tantrums. Kenji hisses when you let go of his right wrist, his other quickly rubbing against the area on instinct.

“Oh no, did I… hurt you?” You say, timidly. A wild contrast from your earlier and regular demeanour. Another thing he noticed is that apart from you being extremely clingy with him, you.. oddly care for him; what he thinks, how he’s feeling.

Kenji sighs and pats your head right after. “No, princess, I’m all good. No bruises, see? It’s okay.” He reassures you, remembering that last time when you found out you injured him, you bawled and apologised for the whole night.

“I’m okay.” He pinches your cheek to get you to look at him, knowing that you’re beating yourself up in your head. If your sudden silence wasn’t enough of an indicator, he didn’t know what is. 

“Ah, Mina, so about her stuff…” Ken starts, looking back after sensing the presence of the AI bot silently hovering behind him. “Just get her whatever essentials you think she needs and might need.”

“Got it, Ken. As for her clothes, will we have a set budget? Preferred brands?”

“You kidding? Just buy anything. Whatever’s popular these days.” Kenji shrugs as he looks down at you who was trying to dissect their conversation. He’ll look down from his shirt to your bare feet.

“Shoes, sleepwear,” Kenji tries to list.

“How about her underwear, Ken?” Okay, at this point, the robot was probably teasing him.

Kenji sputters, feeling heat crawl up to his face again. Of course, why didn’t he think of that?

“I was just about to say it, Mina.” He sassily remarks.

“Any preferred design?” Okay, at this point, the robot was definitely teasing him.

“Shut up.” He spares you a glance and you simply looked clueless. Thank God.

When screeches started to emanate from the basement, all three of you perked up. But you suddenly cut them off. “Oh! Baby!” 

“I will go down.” You offered, not really giving them respite as you cheerfully jogged to the elevator.

This brings up another topic for both Kenji and Mina.

“Soon, we will be able to ask her about Kaiju Island.”

“Uhuh,”

“What are your thoughts about it, Ken?”

“I mean… it would be convenient to know the place. But even if we do, we can’t just leave the baby and her there alone. Without a mom, the baby would die.” And…

“Of course.” The bot responds with a tone that suggests she knew that Kenji wanted to say more.

“And we can’t just leave her in Kaiju Island now. It’s just— we haven’t found a case yet, and I’m still practising for baseball… you know?” 

We can deal with it off season, a hidden voice within a deep compartment in his brain says.

“I perfectly understand, Ken.” Still with that cheeky tone. For a robot, Mina can get quite expressive, much to Kenji’s dismay.

Kenji groans, ignoring the bot’s teasing while running a hand through his morning hair. 

“Have all her things delivered by tomorrow or as early as possible to the drop-off point so I can pick it up in my car after practice. And help her understand how some things work, I know she’ll be confused with… some stuff.”

The robot hums. “I have a suggestion as well, Ken. I believe if our goal is to help identify her and get her acclimated to human society, it would be best if she knew places outside of the house. And perhaps other people outside of—”

“Outside of me?” Kenji squints, crossing his arms. “What are you suggesting?”

“If you want to expand the possibility of her regaining her old memories by chance, if our theory is correct that she was a past human — based on the articles that dated first sighting of her three years ago— then it would be helpful if she is reminded of the society she grew up in. And she might develop her original traits more if she interacts with other people in a controlled , yet natural environment.”

Kenji remained silent. He knew Mina was right, but… “I don’t know… It’s still a little risky.”

However, it is true that Kenji feels a little bad now that he thinks about it. How you were also feeling indebted enough to take care of a baby that wasn’t your own, while he and Mina occasionally wrote notes and shared minute observations about you like you were a lab rat… 

“Okay, fine. I’ll take her to Roppongi once I’m free, she’ll probably love the food there. Lots of people.” He shrugs, walking backwards to his room as he faces the hovering bot.

Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna @misdollface @emosakumas @bol0-de-morang0 @n4muqr @blooscool

[mademoisellegush]

On the Emperor and *that* scene

so i went and looked at some of the branches of that conversation -he basically reacts by reflecting and amplifying whatever energy the player gives him. Whatever you say, he will not contradict you.

You reject him, violently? He'll show you how right you are, how much of a monster he is. You reject him, preferring to "stick to business"? so does he. You agree to see him as a potential partner? Not a one-night stand, you are "bonded and it is time to consummate love with war".

Something to keep in mind, however (pun intended) is that "to best protect yourself from illithid manipulation, pay attention to its actions, not words."

tldr: i think the emperor is a very neat character.

The first branch is the disgusted rejection - the one where the player calls him a freak. his reaction is to show you how right you are. a mind controlled Stelmane, how the partnership was puppeteering. "you are my puppet", he tells you. "You have no other choice, if I must, I will force you."

he does not force you to do anything, after that. the threat is there, of course, but it's hollow. empty.

should this be taken at face value? can we trust him, even now, that he is telling the truth? it is certain that he mind controlled stelmane, yes. But was he the one who made her ill?

two items put that into question. a) stelmane's portrait, hung up at his desk along all his treasured possessions from before and after he became an illithid (balduran's butter fork, to go with the butter knife. his old sword, a recipe for fiddlehead soup, his dog Rascal's collar. the emperor's outfit, container for brains, chains for his "meals".)

If he's a liar about everything, why does he have a framed picture of Stelmane? He would not have been able to physically go back and set things up in a Knights of the Shield secret hideout while he was stuck inside the Astral Prism in our pocket from the hells, down to the Underdark, unless i'm getting the timeline of this story majorly wrong.

and b) an account of stelmane's illness.

Stelmane's condition got worse *after* Balduran/the Emperor disappeared, captured by Gortash and the cult of the Absolute.

Make of that what you will. Is this an actual testimony, or something he somehow planted there for you to find, despite the logistical difficulties in doing so? You decide.

2. The violent rejection is the only branch where he does not tell you how big the elder brain has grown. I think that is because there is an actual reaction on his end; something vicious that he's unused to feeling. Not the cold, calculating pragmatism he was praising in the player character three lines ago. Compare the first branch to the following two paths:

What i think is: Balduran uses you. The sole thing he cares above all else is his continued survival, any power gained that way is a side benefit to his goal. If you even get the Orphic hammer, even "as leverage," even as you threaten him, he does not "force you" to do anything, as threatened above. Ansur died, yes, but is self defence murder? Neither Ansur nor Balduran deny that Ansur tried to mercy kill Balduran as he slept.

What I also think: you have to succeed at perception check, in the third guardian dream, to figure out that "the hurt runs deeper than they're willing to show you." then, an insight check (something that requires wisdom, what you use to resist, or lean into, the tadpole's hivemind) "beneath the resilient veneer, a touch of fragility. they need comfort." This allows you to hug them, if you desire - something they say "it has been a very long time since someone did that. for [me]".

Make of that what you will.

[cerberus-new-owner]

anyone else see headcannons for the om! characters and think of their own for a completely different topic like seriously i was reading headcannons about how the brothers would react to MLP (by @byte-your-tongue for those curious i would recomend looking at the post it made me laugh) and i started thinking up headcannons on how they would sleep like what??

Anywayssss here some headcannons about how i think the characters would sleep (with and without mc cause i feel like some of the would change how they sleep with someone next to them)

Part 1 - The Brothers Part 2 - The Angels + Solomon Part 3 - Diavolo + Barbatos

content thingy btw: the brothers are kind of implied to be dating mc but it can really be taken how you wish, also gn!mc, ooooo ooo oooo and a few pet names (dove, treasure, player 2, love) and a bit of fluff to

Lucifer

w/out mc- on back stiff as a board, mans becomes a plank of wood dare i say even a brick unmoving and silent no snores no sleep talk and somehow takes up his entire bed (he's probably in his demon form) also a very light sleeper he's gotta be ready for anything and everything disaterous that could happen in the middle of the night

w/ mc- buuuuuuut when mc shows up and starts sharing his bed he starts to sleep talk like when mc first showed up in the devildom he started doing it every now and then cause of stress (i sleep talk when stressed lol) but when they started sharing a bed he started sleep talking alot more the stress probably coming from him not wanting one of his brothers (mammon, levi, asmo) to A to walk into his room and fall asleep ontop of him and mc cause they want mc cuddles to or B straight up steal mc from his grasp (he protec) oooooor lucky number C take photos of the two and use them as blackmail (mams, satan and belphie), still no snoring, 20% chance he's in his demon form especially if its winter (wings can be blanket), i also think he may switch from a brick to side sleeper everynow and then for cuddles (touch starvedddddddddd), light sleeper still but like way worse now, will wake up at the sound of a pin drop (force him to wear noise cancelling headphones everynow and then so he gets sleep 'do i have to wear these silly things dove, i'd preffer to keep you safe and the house of lamantation standing than sleep')

Mammon

w/out mc- hes sprawled out (starfish), loud snoring (can be heard across the house), also loud sleep talking (he will get flustered in his sleep and talk for everyone example 'mammon that was such a dumb idea' 'no it aint it was a genius idea' 'mammooooooon, wheres my record') sleeps with his glasses on, also kicks like alot, very deep sleeper would've slept through one of beels late night rampages when the fridge was empty many times

w/ mc- still starfish no room for mc, snoring is still loud (hope mc's got ear buds or smth) sleep talks but now flirts with himself too 'oh mammon did it hurt when you fell' 'of course it did i fell for you after all', has gotten into a better habit of taking his glasses off before sleep (feel like mc got up him for wearing them to sleep) no kicking anymore or atleast not as much mc has gotten kicked off multiple times, still a very deep sleeper but he'll somewhat wake up if mc moves to check on them (its probably just tred mumbles of something like 'ya okay treasure?' or 'you're not going anywhere treasure')

Levi

w/out mc- idk what to put here like he obviously takes up like the entirety of the bathtub he sleeps in, he probably talks to ruri-chan or his online friends in his sleep and does the poses and stuff ruri-chan does also body pillows no blankets just body pillows/hj he's a pretty normal sleeper (when he does sleep) only really waking up to any loud noises

w/ mc- still dunno but he probably wraps his tail around mc when sleeping (once again he protec) probably like the exact same as w/ out mc but without the poses, still a pretty average sleeper and still talks in his sleep ('nonononononono player two you take on the minions and i'll take on super elite demon dragon fish boss')

Satan

w/out mc- lets be real when hes does sleep its either almost exactly like lucifer (when he goes to sleep willingly) or he's sprawled out with a book on his face, snores but not as loudly as mammon or beel, probably kicks if he falls asleep angry at someone (most likely lucifer) sleeps pretty deeply normally but when pissed off he's a light sleeper almost like he's preparing to explode at the slightest sound, also if he's snuck a cat into his room he's cuddling with the cat

w/ mc- cuddles in the middle of reading a book, mc was sitting in his lap and he was reading to them when they fell asleep and a few hours later still reading the book out loud for the sleeping mc he falls asleep himself, doesn't go to sleep angry as often as before but his sleeping does lighten a little to make sure unwelcome intruders dont enter his space whilst he's with mc, will not move if he's cuddling mc (if he does move and wake them up he's apologising tellng them to go back to sleep ' 'm sorry love go back to sleep')

Asmodeus

w/out mc- kitten snores tiny little baby snores, doesn't kick unles he's having a nightmare, has a night time face mask on deep sleeper and sleeps on his back just not as stiffly as luci and satan, sleep talks on occasion but its usually just him complementing himself 'oh asmodeus you look extra fabulous today' stuff like that

w/ mc- pretty much the exact same mans wants his beauty sleep

Beelzebub

w/out mc - snores louder than mams, sleeps like a brick, human heater, midnight snacks, deeeeeeeep sleeper like an a new level not as bad as belphie but still he won't wake up unless its one of his alarms or he's hungry, if he were to sleep talk it'd probably be the recipe to his faverite food 'beat two eggs, mix the eggs in with the rest of the batter bake for 15 minutes'

w/ mc- me personally i would get him a sleep apnea machine (stops the loud snores) and install several fans for summer months, he would be very clingy too, perfect for winter not so much for summer

Belphegor

w/out mc- dead he might aswell be dead does not move or make a sound pretty boring overall and cold, no sleep talking like i said he might as well be dead

w/ mc- snuggles snuggles snuggles only time he will move is to get closer to mc for snuggles still pertty cold though like if he wakes up before mc, mc better be prepared to be woken up by a pair of cold hands / feet on their back and a very bratty smile to accompany their awakening

i feel like its way to obvious who my favorite brothers are looking at this and which brothers i struggled with lol but oh well....

i may do the dateables next, i also may expand on a few of these (the ones i didn't struggle hardcore with lol)

have a good day, night, evening, breakfast, lunch, morning

having too muvh fun with the masterlist things lol

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: talks of sex, kinks etc

Word count: 1441

Masterlist Here

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He really wants to hold you after sex. He’s always a bit scared he went to far so he just wants to wrap you in his arms and make sure you’re alright. This results in many head kisses and if you ask a massage or foot rub. Pretty much whatever you want you can get if it will help your body feel better after some of the…interesting positions you were in.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hips. He wants to grab them, dig his fingers into them, turn you around by them. He’s obsessed with the way you move them. He also loves your mouth. Not just because how it feels when its wrapped around his cock but also he loves to trace it with his fingers.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Robb prefers to cum inside of you but also loves to mix it up sometimes when he sees it covering your face.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Robb is a freak in the sheets. In public he is a very affectionate man, hugs, kisses, hand holding. Everything. Everyone praises how he treats you like a queen. However in the bedroom he is one of the kinkiest people you have met.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s defiantly not a virgin but he hasn’t slept with so many people. He knows what he’s doing though because once he found someone he trusts, aka you, he wanted to explore all his fantasies and you were happy to oblige. He’s also a communication king so after its all done and you feel good he will ask you about what you liked and keep it noted for next time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Robb leans towards doggy style but will also fuck you in any position he can. However he also adores being in between your legs and getting you off with his tongue. Robb also likes when youre kneeling in front of him. It just turns him on to see you submissive.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Majority of the time he is more serious in bed but he is still up for some casual giggly sex especially in the morning or after a long day. Sometimes he likes the casual vibes of it all

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Robb prefers to keep himself pretty well trimmed. He doesn’t care how his partner keeps themselves as long as everything is clean but prefers how his cock looks when its trimmed back.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Robb admits he can sometimes forget about the romantic side of sex. He does try and it does still happen. Your wedding night was a very passionate romantic one for example. Its just when robb thinks of sex he doesn’t think so much about flowers than fucking you with his tongue.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He will use his hand if his partner isn’t in the mood but he much prefers the real thing. He will however be thinking of you the whole time (modern Robb would love if you let him keep a couple of your nudes for such occasions). He also finds the idea of you masturbating weirdly hot and if he catches you doing it he’ll get himself off to the sight.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You cannot tell me he does not have a breeding kink. He also defiantly loves to be called ‘my king’ (or ‘Sir’ in a modern au). He likes to be dominant with a more submissive sub. The control aspect gets him off. If youre okay with it he also likes to praise and degrade. Phrases like ‘pretty little slut’ and’ such a good little whore for me’ are used a lot. He also just loves to praise you in general though as he tells you how good you are and how good you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Robb will rush you off to your chambers or tent to fuck you but rarely if ever will he do it outside of the bedroom. He’s adventurious in many ways but he defeintly does not want to get caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Teasing gets him. If you tease him outside of the bedroom or wear a particularly low cut outfit he will not be long away from dragging you away to fuck you. Robb can get a bit jealous, even possessive, at times which will result in him practically dragging you away. he also gets turned on by your mouth. Robb will find himself staring at your lips as the perfectly wrap around your food or graze your cup. The sight of your lips is sometimes all it takes to get him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Robb wouldn’t do it somewhere where he could get caught or want to have anyone watching. He’s open to try majority of kinks but he wants that to remain private.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to receive it but he is desperate to give it. robb loves to watch you cum from his tongue, its like a internal brag to himself. He loves the way your body tesnes when your close and it’s a good way to be able to feel your legs clamping.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Its normally fast and rough with Robb but sometimes he’ll surprise you by going painfully slow if you’ve teased him too far

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his favourite thing in the world but if he’s horny and on a time limit he wont say no

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

He’s willing to take risks but will spend a solid week researching before actually doing anything out of fear of hurting you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The young wolf can go until the sun sets then rises the next day. Sex seems to give robb even more energy. Even the times he doesn’t last as long he wont be soon off getting hard again or using his mouth on you instead.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Modern Robb would have things like handcuffs and maybe blindfolds but not any vibrators or that. However if you brought one over he would soon come to love it when he relaised he could tease you with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves a bit of teasing but rarely has the patients to do it for very long

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Robb will grunt and groan during sex but isn’t that loud. However he takes it as a personal challenge to make sure his partner is

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Robb didn’t notice it at first but when you would be making out you would either be grinding into his thigh or crotch however once he did notice he began to have you sit on his thigh and ride it as you made out. He used it as a perfect opportunity for his hands to explore your body and to leave dark hickeys on your collarbones.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s defeintly well sized. He’s pretty long but kinda thick as well. It can be a bit intimidating at time so Robb makes sure to at least start gentle and always prepare you first with his fingers or mouth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Its pretty high. If he could you would be fucking every morning and night but he’s not obsessed with sex to the point this is a must.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

For a moment after he cums robb will feel tired but a switch suddenly snaps and he’s energized again. It wakes him up more than it puts him to sleep

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

[freak-accident419]

deprivation

Derek Danforth x AFAB!NB!Reader

Summary: After scrolling through social media and seeing several beautiful women that you couldn’t be, your insecurities rose into you once more. Believing that Derek deserved someone better, he makes it his mission to prove you wrong.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content: 18+ MDNI, smut, AFAB reader, non-binary/transmasc reader, non-woman reader, reader has had top surgery (reader has no breasts), oral sex (v-receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, trans guilt, slight internalized transphobia, self-deprecation, angst, fluff, comfort

(A/n: finally a self-indulgent fic by me??? i know, right?! thank you to everyone who supported the creation of this fic, ily guys so much. while the reader in this is an afab enby, anyone is able to read it. no gatekeeping here :3 just a reminder, these are my own experiences and thoughts whenever i’m in a dark place—everyone has different experiences. if you are reading this and are trans in any way, you are beautiful, seen, and loved. thank you to everyone for your support!)

-

Derek began to press soft kisses to your neck, one hand cupping your face and the other caressing your sides. His palm rubs over your stomach, then made its way to your arm, dragging the soft pads of his fingertips against your skin. His kisses felt like heaven to you, each one sending a desperate chill down your spine.

“B—”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Derek mutters hoarsely as he began to nibble the sensitive skin on your neck, softly biting it between his teeth and sucking, sure to leave red and purple marks much sooner.

Recently, you had a random wave of depression: your insecurities rose back up, much more severe than before, crushing your self-image entirely. Expressing your concerns to your lover, relentlessly insisting that he deserved someone better, someone prettier, someone normal, a bona fide woman, something in him just snapped. He was going to do whatever it took to prove you wrong and convince you that all he wanted and needed was you.

Your previous words had repeated abysmally in his head, like shitty earworm songs. He was brought back to the past moment with your phone in your hand, opened to several pictures of beautiful, confident women and models, something that you could never be. And he could hear your miserable voice reverberating over and over again:

“I deprive you, don’t I?”

So there you were, laid out on the cold mattress where you’ve always slept together. Both of your clothing were sprawled out across the room, tossed carelessly by Derek as he’d previously removed everything himself. You were under him, unsure that he truly wanted this and truly wanted you. Surely he deserved someone much prettier and more normal than you.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” he mumbles, looking up at you slightly before trailing kisses downwards to your collarbone, reaching your chest. “I love you.” Derek began to pepper kisses against the faint line on your chest from your top surgery operation many years ago, the scarring already completely healed. “I don’t want anyone else,” he pressed his lips against the other side, following along the scar, “but you. Do you hear me?”

You nod quietly, but with that, falsely. You were uncertain why you couldn’t just accept his words. It seemed too untrue. You had faith in Derek, you couldn’t doubt him, but you knew that nobody, especially him, should ever be reduced to a partner like yourself. Shouldn’t he be with someone who was much more beautiful than you? Why was he with you? He deserved much more than you. Your body was unnatural, your identity was unnatural, you weren’t normal, your—

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers affectionately, wiping their tear at the corner of your eye that left as you had been drowned in those thoughts. “You’re beautiful.” It was like he could read your mind. “You’re so, so beautiful.” You hated it. “You’re perfect.”

Derek pressed his lips to the center of your chest, inhaling deeply as he trailed down towards your stomach, covering it in kisses. Then he reached the top of your thigh, beginning to leave more hickeys, marking you up incessantly. Soft whimpers escaped your pretty mouth, making Derek smirk to himself as he continued, letting his gentle palms caress at your sides.

“I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything else, my love,” he declares, rubbing your inner thighs with his thumbs before opening your legs, spreading them out. While you admit that you were still very insecure about your relationship with Derek, you couldn’t help but become aroused from his affectionate touches and words, thus revealing an astonishing wetness between your thighs. Your boyfriend moans softly at the sight, looking up at you while he kissed at your skin right above your clit. “You look so fucking gorgeous, my love, so gorgeous…”

He hooks his arms under your thighs to grip them with his hands before licking up a stripe at your pussy. The sound that escaped your mouth was complete perfection, Derek observing the way your lips parted and eyelids grow heavy, his own lustful eyes boring into yours. He then began to lap his tongue at your center much faster, teasing between your folds, tasting you, kissing you, making your legs squirm under him. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby, what a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he praised breathlessly, “Fuckin’ love your perfect, pretty pussy…” And once you finally feel his lips close around your clit, his warm tongue lingering against it, you moan out in pure pleasure, hands immediately reaching for his hair.

“Ah-ahhhh,” you cry softly as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging lightly. The pulling sensation prompted Derek to remove one hand from your a thigh, lining up his finger with your entrance as he continued licking at your clit. His finger methodically ran along your wet folds before slowly easing in, slipping so easily inside of you. “M—Mmmm…”

You hummed softly in contentment, feeling his finger explore your insides until he instantly slips another one in, stretching your walls and making you cry out a choked moan. His other hand spreads your other thigh out wider, pumping his two fingers in and out of your wetness at a steady, loving pace.

You felt your own hands fail yourself, falling back down on the mattress as your fingers gripped the sheets below you instead. You could feel the tip of Derek’s tongue flick at your sensitive bud skillfully, then kissing and lapping his tongue against it. Your nails dug further into the mattress as your moans became louder, face red and flushed in ultimate ecstasy.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moan. “Mm—Derek—”

“Mmmm,” he hummed with his lips still at your clit, sending small vibrations to you, causing you to squirm and whine further.

“Fuck,” you pant as you felt closer to the edge and then…

Shit. You let out a soft, desperate whine as Derek slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving a chaste kiss on your skin before pulling away. His lips pressed against several areas of your thighs, then to your folded knee. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, “You turn me on so fucking much, your body turns me on so much, you know that?”

Your bright, satisfied eyes looked up at him in pure submission, nearly begging him to touch you more. And yet, you couldn’t help but think: was he just saying this because you brought it up in the first place? And would he keep touching and tasting you longer if you were prettier? Would he touch you even more and thoughtfully if you had the body of a goddess? A siren? A woman? Ultimately, it all came down to this:

would he love you more than he did if you weren’t trans?

Derek witnessed you spacing out again in your thoughts, cupping your face gently and shushing you. “Hey,” he whispers, kissing at your neck and your face. “You’re all I ever want. Nothing’s gonna change that.” He reached down to kiss at the healed scarring on your chest again, making you shiver.

“God, look how fucking hard I am,” he cooed, urging you to see his throbbing length, “just by looking at how damn sexy you are…” His cock was completely hard, precum leaking slightly at the tip as you admired him intensely. His body had always been so beautiful and attractive to you, that you felt your own core heat up.

Derek kissed your lips briefly, deepening it while he grabbed under your thighs, lifting you up so he could sit against the bed frame with you straddling him. “That’s it, baby, I’ve got you,” he reassures gruffly, gripping tightly onto your hips. “I’ve got you.” As you hover over his lap, holding yourself up by your knees, Derek removes one hand from your hip, gripping onto his thick cock, stroking your wet folds with its head, teasing your entrance.

“Ah-Ahh,” you sigh softly in pleasure, mind beginning to become fuzzy as you succumb to the feeling of his dick slowly rubbing your pussy. Your head hung low as your hands held onto his shoulders, nails slightly digging into his skin.

He lined up his cock with your slick entrance, pushing you down onto him, stretching your walls with his thick girth. And suddenly, you could feel all your worries and insecurities dissipate into something so much more meaningless, as microscopic as a particle of glitter—except they weren't as pretty. But this allowed you to completely enjoy every feeling, every sensation guiltlessly.

“Ahhh, fuuuuck,” you whine, “fuck, Derek… sh-shit—”

Derek’s grasp on your hips remained as he lasciviously slammed them up and down his cock, grunting and moaning softly.

“Oh, fuck…” Derek’s lips parted gorgeously as he let out pleasured groans. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you as if you were prey, yet simultaneously overwhelmed by a haze of arousal. He not only got off by the tightness of your pussy around him, but also from your beautifully rhythmic moans. You panted and whimpered loudly in such a gratifyingly repetitive manner that it was practically a dirty symphony to Derek’s ears. Paired with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, it was as if it were the only orchestral piece that he could stand.

Derek slightly jerked his hips up into yours each time he slammed yours down on his, making your cries louder and more desperate. He then moved his hands to your ass, squeezing the flesh selfishly as he controls your movements against him, sneaking a small smack against a cheek.

“So sexy, you’re so fucking sexy, baby,” he pants heavily, grabbing the side of your face with one hand to kiss your lips deeply, shoving his tongue past your lips to taste you. “I’m so… fucking lucky to have you…” he mutters in between kisses until he finally pulls away with a short string of saliva connecting one another’s lips, breaking it with a quick peck from Derek.

Suddenly, he changes the position by pushing you down, your back now flat against the mattress as he hovered over you. His legs were spread apart, his hips still lined up with yours as your ankles were above the back of his thighs. Placing his palms on the mattress while your knees were raised, his arms, against the back of your knees, trapped each leg in that open and spread out position. Penetrating you again, the two of you let out a loud, soft moan in unison.

“Fuck!” Derek hisses from immense pleasure as he began to move again, at a much faster pace than before. You choke out high-pitched sounds as you feel his cock constantly thrusting in and out of your fleshy walls with every wet slap. The bed creaked and rocked violently with every movement that came from Derek. He relentlessly stretched you open and buried himself even deeper inside of you, ensuring that he strokes his pelvis against your clit with every thrust, the closeness between your bodies creating an even more intimate atmosphere.

“Oh, fuck!” You cried softly, lips parted as you felt so much throbbing pleasure against your heat.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Tell me that you’re pretty, baby, can you do that for me?” He inquired in a hot, low mutter.

Your thoughts froze at the request. “I—But I’m—”

He thrusts even deeper inside of you, making you moan louder. “C’mon, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon. C’mon, tell me you’re pretty. Say it.”

“I—” You looked up into his eyes with desperation. “I’m pretty.”

“That’s my good baby… Now tell me that you’re beautiful…”

“I—” you stammer, “I’m… beautiful.”

“Again.”

“I’m beautiful.”

“Again.”

His cock pounded deeply and harder into your walls, making you cry in complete pleasure. “I-I’m beautiful.”

Your hands reached up towards the back of his neck, bringing his face down to press his forehead against yours, staring deeply into each other’s eyes while gasps and moans escaped the two of your lips.

“Tell me you belong to me. That you’re mine only,” he commands vigorously.

“I-I’m yours,” you whimper loudly.

“Damn right, you’re mine,” he huffs breathlessly, almost in a lustful slur, “all fuckin’ mine…” Derek smashes his lips against yours in a fiery and passionate kiss, burying his face in your neck to add more dark hickeys than you’d already had. Your hands go to his hair, holding his head as you tangle your fingers in his curls, lightly tugging as you feel your body begin to clench around his dick.

Your moans become more desperate as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, whining to yourself from how ecstatic this all felt. The raunchy silhouette of Derek’s body rocking lustfully against yours was truthfully a beautiful sight.

“I—I’m close!” You whimper out, your panting speeding up. “I’m so close, I—I’m gonna cum—!”

“Fuuck,” Derek grunts, “Cum for me baby, fuck, c’mon.” He sped up his pace, making your vision blur as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure ecstasy. And finally, with one more deep, fast thrust, your body tensed up completely, a loud whine escaping your mouth as you came, your pussy clenching deliciously around him.

Your orgasm instantly drove Derek to the edge, groaning as he came deep inside of you, shoots of his warm white cum decorating your walls and filling you up. He stays like this for a while, collapsing on your body as his face is buried in your neck. The two of you were panting heavily, struggling to catch your breaths from the intense climax. Derek began peppering kisses on your neck once more, going over the old hickeys that formed several moments ago.

“I love you so fucking much, okay, baby? I wouldn’t—I’d never leave you,” he mutters, making your heart full. “You could never, ever deprive me, baby, you’re everything I could ever want. Your body is so damn beautiful, you’re so fucking perfect…”

Derek kissed your lips deeply once again, spilling all his authentic admiration and love for you. He would rather perish by suffocation from kissing your lips as much as he could, if it meant that even a sliver of you would be convinced that he loved you for who you were. And who you were in his eyes was utter perfection.

[nvuy]

how do u feel ab yandere necromancer jiaoqiu .......... like idk how to explain it since hes a healer in canon it just makes sense to me even though necromancy is basically the opposite of healing or whatever LIKE ITS NOT A CONCRETE IDEA BUT ITS THERE also since necromancy is like the highest form of love ehehheehheheheeh can u see my vision idk ...........

ok so u sent this a while ago & i did NOT know what to say because this idea is so so so so so based but i just genuinely did not know how to hop on the jiaoqiu necromancer train but i have two cents

2.5 spoilers under cut , necromancy, death. because. necromancy, jiaoqiu kills you Because necromancy, animal death but again, necromancy, yandere themes if you squint, and another instance of What zero pussy does to a mf

so it basically goes:

a ) you’re one of jiaoqiu’s valued patients, and you’ve had an illness that has been steadily getting worse. it’s grown to the point where doctor jiaoqiu can’t figure out how to cure it, and though he tries his best, all he’s doing is delaying the inevitable.

b ) in his fit of rage and panic, jiaoqiu accidentally kills a small invading animal in his home, or the clinic he works. maybe a rat, and he freaks out because doctors are supposed to give lives, not take them. so, he drinks to exhaustion, and guilt, and in the process, he loses his taste.

c ) he freaks out over his tongue not working, and amidst his panic, the rat has come back to life. by some miracle. he realises after a while, as long as his taste doesn’t return, the rat will live.

d ) i think you know where this is going .

e ) jiaoqiu comes to your side when you’re on the brink of death and tells you he can kill you and bring you back. “it’ll work,” he insists. it looks like he hasn’t slept in years. “it has to.”

you tell him it sounds like insanity.

“it is,” he says. he holds your hands tight. “but it will work.”

f ) so, he poisons you, and ends the first part of your miserable life. then, he poisons himself and almost dies on top of you. but, you return minutes later, alive and healthy, at the expense of him losing his vision.

but what does it matter? at the end of the day, you now owe him everything, and you’d never leave this poor, blind and old foxian all on his lonesome, would you?

[bratbutcute]

A silent pact of silence

Hi! @theanonemu it is I, your secret Santa. I finally revealed myself to gift you… your gift.

Okay I’ll stop it ahah, I hope you have some free time because this fic got LONG.

Just a little reminder: English isn’t my first language, so you might find some grammar mistakes! If so please dm me or comment so I can fix them.

Now let’s dive right in.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Alastor/Lucifer

Prompts: Lovingly wrecking with gentle & light tickles; Character A unknowingly tickling character B who tries to suffer through it but eventually gives way and hijinx ensue;

Disclaimer: other than this is a tickle fic (obviously I’d say) there is nothing more to add to it.

Words count: 4524

Lucifer goes to the library to run away from his worries; he likes being alone there, until Alastor arrives to disrupt his peace. Will they listen to Charlie’s notes and become friends or will their rivalry prevail?

Happy late Christmas, Yule, Hanukkah, Solstice, Kwanzaa, and all the other celebrations happening during these days ❤️

(tagging here you amazing @squealing-santa, thank you so much for your patience and for your amazing organisation. This was my first year participating but I really loved having you as a host)

~~~

“Dear guests I hope you’ll like this library! Read as much as you like but don’t forget to make new friends! -Charlie”

Books or, to be more precise, reading books is something quite unusual in Hell.

Sinners usually enjoy other kinds of activities in their afterlives.

Lucifer has always loved them, since the moment humans came up with the idea of putting words onto paper he's been engrossed by the thought of carrying knowledge in the palm of your hand.

He has read thousands of books, written by humans on Earth - smuggled by those who could go there -, written by sinners in Hell, and he himself has written some of them. Charlie has always loved hearing her father interpret a story by doing different voices and shapeshift to fit the characters.

The Hotel had a rather big library, not the greatest, but it was still a work in progress. A few armchairs and couches were arranged in the center of the room, next to a coffee table with mugs and cute post-its with inspirational quotes on them.

These post-it were scattered everywhere, on the chairs, on the table, between the pages of the books. They were cheesy and sometimes did’t make sense, trying to encourage sinners to discuss about books and share their ideas. Lucifer couldn’t help but smile every time he saw one, thinking about his daughter and her good naive heart.

He found solace in that place.

He went there by chance once, after finding himself wandering around the Hotel trying to run away from the mean words screaming inside his head. After that it had quickly become an habit to go there during the night, past the time when Angeldust or Husker would still be awake, in that limbo halfway between the night and the morning, when the lights of Heaven were still not visible, but they started to peak between the clouds.

It was always quite when he went there.

No thoughts, no worries.

“When you’re feeling lonely, ask for a friend to join you! Having friends is fun! -Charlie”

Night after night Lucifer had been dragging himself into the library, reading books in silence to quite the thoughts screaming into his head. As a result he hadn’t slept in weeks, but on the bright side he also hadn’t had a nightmare in a long while.

Everything was perfect before his little ritual got ruined by none other than Alastor. That bitch.

Alastor was already there when Lucifer arrived. He was standing next to a shelf, hand ready to grab a book when their sights intertwined.

Everything felt static for a second.

Lucifer was about to ask him what the Hell was he doing there, but his mind was too clouded and words felt heavy on his chest. They just proceeded to ignore each other, much to his confusion: that demon was known for loving to mess with him. Why wouldn’t the dear say something?

But he didn’t dwell on it too much though, hoping this would be a once in a lifetime situation

Unfortunately for him he was quickly proven wrong.

The next day Alastor was there, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, and so the following day and the one after.

Every single night Lucifer wanted a bit of peace, a place to recollect his thoughts, Alastor was there to ruin his evening.

He wouldn’t talk, but he would raise his eyebrows at every book Lucifer chose. He would turn his pages quicker than the king, creating an unspoken competition to finish first.

Lucifer came out of these nights even more exhausted than before, crashing onto the bed and waking up a few hours later, after a dreamless sleep.

“Good actions don’t need words! Try doing something good without taking the credit! -Charlie”

Lucifer had to admit something: having Alastor in the same room while dark thoughts stomped on his head was kind of therapeutic - although he would never say it to the other.

He always managed to distract him, even if it was with childish challenges and mischief, such as changing the place his current book was placed or steal the book the other wanted to read.

Words never left their mouths while they were there. They would stare at each other for a few seconds while entering the room, and then proceed to read in their designated spots: Lucifer on the couch, legs stretched on the coushions, his duck slippers on the floor next to him, and Alastor on the armchair, with his old school red nightclothes on and a tea cup in hand.

Lucifer started to think about those nights of theirs during his day, napping during the afternoon so he would be able to actually enjoy his silent time with the man.

Nothing had changed in front of Charlie or the Hotel crew. They would still bicker and fight like they hated each other, but he couldn’t help but thinking that he felt their arguments less animus than before. There were times he would find Alastor staring at him, his usual grin a bit softer on his lips.

He started looking forward to the night, feeling his heart pounding in his chest before opening the door of their secret place, hoping he wouldn’t be alone.

The reason was simple: he had spent the majority of his existence feeling alone, feeling casted out. The one who fell, the one who asked too many questions, the one who couldn’t handle a family. The one nobody really cared about and that frankly was had stopped caring.

But having someone share his worst moments with was… kind of comforting.

Then again, Alastor was still a peace of shit.

“When others choose to wrong you try confronting them with their actions! You might find that it was a misunderstanding! -Charlie”

It started after one of their fights during the day.

Lucifer wasn’t really sure what they were fighting about, but he could proudly remember how the argument ended: with him making fun of the deer. Angel had laughed, chanting a “Poor Bambi”, a nickname that was usually used by the former heavenly creature but was quickly catching up.

When Lucifer arrived at the library Alastor was already there - that wasn’t uncommon - but he wasn’t in his usual standing position, looking for a new book to devour in a few hours. This time he was in his armchair. Waiting.

Lucifer faltered before entering, a weird uneasy feeling slowly creeping behind his neck. He knew something was about to change.

He barely had time to pick a book and sit before shadows in the room started to morph, trembling and deforming the floor. The lights wobbled as if there was a earthquake (a hellquake?) and Lucifer would have probably screamed if only it hadn’t lasted more than just a few seconds.

Terrified and confused Lucifer stared at Alastor, forcing his mouth to remain shut, and found the sinner grinning ear to ear with pure amusement in his eyes.

As Lucifer started reading, one of those weird dark tentacles darted through the air right in front of the angel’s face, making him jump on the couch and drop his book. Needless to say Alastor was beaming in his place on the armchair. His stupid cup still in his hand, held with his pinky finger up.

Lucifer’s eye started to twitch. He wasn’t going to be the one breaking their pact of silence - ironic how that agreement was made… silently.

Alastor’s shadow retreated quickly with a book, only to dart back again, this time taking the most inconvenient road, purposefully knocking Lucifer’s book again the second he picked it up.

This did get a silent sight out of the king of Hell.

But the demon did not care enough to take his eyes off the tome.

This new annoying habit seemed to amuse Alastor a lot since he started to do it every single time they were there: Lucifer would arrive, think that nothing was wrong only to find a dark shadow scaring both Heaven and Hell out of him.

Three nights in a row and Lucifer was done with this.

He was the King of Hell, he was a powerful and fearful being: he was going to show it to that pompous prick.

When the tendril flew in front of him he moved quickly, grabbing the shadow with one hand, his eyes turning red and fire sparkling between his horns.

The movement was so fast that Alastor was caught off guard, but he was definitely impressed.

His cheeks burned bright as his smile trembled.

Since that day he never tried to use his shadows again.

“Hug someone today! Only after they agreed. Consent is important! -Charlie”

After the event nothing really changed, other than a small, but definitely important thing: they started greeting each other with a smile. Which wasn’t unusual for Alastor, since his smile was always shown on his face, but it felt as if that mask was slowly crumbling down.

Not only this, but Lucifer started looking forward to that smile, to that small act of kindness and intimacy the two of them shared.

And then one night came the touching.

Lucifer had seen Alastor touch pretty much every single hotel guest. Squeezing shoulders, pinching cheeks, being affectionate in a mocking kind of way, always using either his hands or his shadows to assert his dominance. And the king of Hell hated that behaviour: Alastor didn’t care if he crossed a boundary, he showed everybody that he could do whatever he wanted with them, regardless of their comfort.

The first time Lucifer and Alastor shook hands the latter cleaned it right after, so you can imagine how surprised and confused Lucifer found himself when Alastor decided to sit next to him, grazing their legs together.

His stomach churned and his head turned immediately to stare at the demon.

Alastor didn’t talk - again, nothing unusual for them in that room - but his smile twitched a bit.

Was he making fun of him? Was he trying to distract him from one of his schemes? Was he trying to get him back from the shadow situation?

The touch lasted a few seconds before Alastor repositioned himself, crossing one leg over the other, one foot making contact with Lucifer’s leg.

The king was so confused he didn’t flip a single page the entire night.

“Be sweet, be kind, be good! -Charlie”

Alastor started being more and more intimate with Lucifer.

He started offering him his tea by preparing two cups before the king arrived. He covered him with a blanket whenever he fell asleep on the couch.

It stopped being subtle when the cuddling started.

It had already been a few nights of sitting one next to the other, thighs or feet touching and eyes wandering over each other. The deer would casually touch him by grazing his hands, or by putting his hand on the king’s tight as a leverage to stand up.

But one evening his hand simply remained on the king’s leg. Fingers slowly moving. Before Lucifer could react Alastor was caressing him, as if they had been friends for their entire lives.

It lasted a few seconds - as soon as Lucifer’s brain registered the warmth it was already gone.

His heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach. He felt lightheaded.

Whenever Alastor showed signs of kindness he felt like a young angel again, experiencing emotions for the very first time.

He’d find himself with golden cheeks and shaking hands.

And one night, after thinking about it the entire day, he finally made his move.

Alastor was already in the library, sitting down on the couch, nose buried in a book, his ears twitching every now and then, as if they were part of the action written on the pages.

Lucifer took a couple of breaths, trying to calm his nerves as he found the courage to sit down and take Alastor’s hand.

The action was very… awkward.

They stayed there in silence, staring at each other’s eyes while holding hands as if it was their first interaction since being created.

When he realised the absurdity of the situation his cheeks became golden. He tried to stand up again, ready to leave the room but Alastor tightened his grip.

He tilted his head as the touch morphed.

Alastor intertwined their fingers as nothing weird was happening.

Lucifer felt like falling for perdition all over again.

“Laughter is the best medicine! Laughing with your friends is the best antibiotic! -Charlie”

Six months had passed since the first time the two creatures had found themselves reading together.

Six months and nothing had changed: the hotel members still thought they hated each others - although Angel started whispering about the weird intense looks they sometimes exchanged.

Six months and, at the same time, everything was different.

Alastor and Lucifer had started by pestering each other every day and were now cuddling on the couch, Alastor’s hand scratching the king’s back, as the man had his head on the other’s lap.

They both pretended to read, but they would spend the majority of time plotting the next move, plying a game of chess to become more and more intimate.

Six months and not a single word had really left their lips. Until that day.

Alastor’s fingers were being gentle on the man’s soft pyjamas, soothing the skin underneath.

A bit too delicate for Lucifer’s taste.

Goosebumps were starting to form on his back and a maddening sensation was making him uneasy.

Al’s nails circled around the middle of the back, running up and down, switching between one finger and all four.

Lucifer was holding on, concentrating on not making a sound, focusing entirely on keeping his mouth shut.

He twitched when he felt the sensation move closer to his side. He gulped down some air and the bit his lips.

Alastor was reading, not realising the torture the other man was enduring. He was absentmindedly cuddling him, too focused on the words he was reading to notice the torture his ‘friend’ was enduring.

His fingers found the softness of Lucifer’s sides.

The king lost his battle.

A single uncontrollable giggle. So desperate to leave his lips, so cruel, so… liberating.

It was the first time Lucifer had made an actual sound in that place.

Alastor’s ears turned and his interest peaked.

His mouth opened, as to comment, but then he closed it, an evil grin on his face as soon as he realised what was happening.

This was interesting.

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He tried to sit down but Lucifer’s fingers travelled back to his skin, scratching and caressing teasingly his sides.

Lucifer put his hand on his mouth, feeling the giggles build up in his throat. His legs started shaking, his torso twitching, anything to stop the sensation.

He slowly lowered his hand, his mouth ready to talk for the first time but when the other demon realised what was happening he stopped immediately his attack.

He got a bit closer, breathing Lucifer’s air, and he out a finger on his pale lips.

So this was how it had to be: defeat at first word.

Lucifer gulped loudly.

Alastor’s fingers went back to work, ready to pinch his sides but the only thing they found was air and dust.

In a puff of glitter Lucifer transformed into a snake - he was still Lucifer Morningstar, the most proud being ever created, if he could run away from this humiliation he would - but Alastor reacted quickly and one of his shadows manifested around his tail, snatching him off the floor. He transformed back into his demon form, dangling upside down with his foot held by the tentacle. His face morphed into a “Are you kidding me?” kind of expression.

Alastor left his place from the couch, facing his victim. He looked composed - as always - but a glint of mischief shined in his eyes.

He was going to destroy him. Lucifer shivered as he watched Alastor’s hands caressing the air around his body, not picking a particular spot, but letting him suffer through his indecision. As Lucifer started to thrash around, thinking about how to run away again his shirt rose up and Alastor eyed his midriff with interest. Lucifer’s mind panicked so hard that he transformed into a bird and immediately tried to fly away.

But again, his opponent was very determined.

He reappeared right in front of the door - his only way out other than the very closed window - with a wider and more menacing grin. Lucifer crashed right into him, reappearing as his usual form in a cloud of sparkles.

Alastor didn’t leave him a single second to think this time, trapping his wrists with one of his dark shadows and heading them above his head.

His stomach was again in a very vulnerable position, since his shirt had risen from all the tossing around. He had a trembling smile on his face, giggles almost leaving his lips just because he could feel Alastor stare at his body.

Probably because of this expectation he would have never anticipated fingers gently caressing one of his underarms.

Lucifer gasped and a weak groan left his throat. The touch was gentle, delicate, the fingertips tenderly swirling on his armpit. And it was so, so, devious. He started drumming his feet on the floor.

His mind kept repeating a series of “no no no no” and “okay okay okay” that he would have said out loud to distract himself hadn’t there been that stupid game of silence between them.

Lucifer tried to think of all the way he could turn the tables, tried to think how to attack him but he lost it when Al started tickling his other armpit too.

His giggles started dancing around them, uncontrollable. He couldn’t run away, he couldn’t ask for him to stop: he could only laugh.

Alastor grin widened, but he didn’t change the pace of his attack: he was going to be ruthless and methodical.

As the fingers teased his armpits, two dark shadows descended on his ribs, tracing small circles on the bones, making the fallen angel hiccup with laughter.

Lucifer really lost his battle, twisting his body to run away, too busy laughing to concentrate on shapeshifting. It was unbearable, a slow torture he knew he couldn’t endure by just letting himself laugh.

To confirm his suspicions, the moment Alastor brushed a single finger on his stomach he really gave up.

«Wahahaait!»

The room fell silent again. Alastor stopped moving. Lucifer stopped laughing. The books seemed frozen on their shelves, and the air was eager to listen to words.

«Your majesty,» it wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t meant as a title. The king’s brain stopped working as a goldish blush dusted his cheeks. He was not expecting those words and he was not expecting to react that way. «we’re in a library. Noise should be kept at a minimum.»

Okay, he was going to kill Alastor.

Sweet golden laughter poured out of the angelic creature as the demon attacked his stomach. His fingers caressed his navel, pinched his sides, walked around his skin.

He was so light that Lucifer felt conflicted about what to feel, as if this wasn’t a kind of torture to him but was a weird act of kindness.

«Alastohohohor-» he got lost in his laughter. Giggles and high pitched squeals echoed in the darkness of the room. He realised his hands were free to move the moment he found them holding onto Alastor’s wrists, not quite pushing him away, not quite remaining still. He wasn’t sure about what he wanted to do.

«Ahahahahl» he put one hand on his mouth only to slam it back again as a tendril attacked him on the armpit. He laughed louder, feeling every part of his being ticklish.

It felt embarrassing. It felt private. But it felt… safe.

They were alone in their personal room where no one could bother them.

He giggled louder: «Ahahahahllll! I- ihihi- I demand you to stohohohop!».

Alastor grinned.

«Why should I? My king didn’t seem to mind my hands on his body before.»

«Ahahahahalasthohohor!»

«What my dear? Isn’t that true?»

Lucifer dissolved in another fit of laughter as Alastor lovely pinched every bit of skin he could find from his sides to the middle of his navel.

As hiccups started to leave the king’s lips the tickling slowed down.

«Have you had enough my dear?»

Lucifer could only nod, titters leaving his throat.

Red lights stared shining through the window.

Lucifer sighed, laughter tinted on his lips. He stared at Alastor: he looked bright, shining of a unique and mischievous light that only he could radiate.

They were very close, Alastor on him, hands holding him still. Lucifer’s skin was still sensitive, at every little movement he felt like starting giggling again.

Their faces were few inches apart, so close they could feel the warmth of each other’s breath.

Lucifer found himself staring at the other’s lips; only to realise he wasn’t the only one.

It felt as if they were getting closer, as if he could taste Alastor’s lips had he only moved a bit.

«I guess I will see you tomorrow my dear.»

And just like that he was gone

“You can find friends everywhere! Even at the library! Ask the person next to you what are they reading! Who knows what might happen! - Charlie”

That night Lucifer arrived at the library before Al.

He arrived before midnight. Angel and Husk were still at the counter, chatting and giggling together. They greeted him, but he was too distracted to care.

He sat on the couch, twisting his hands and waited.

When Alastor arrived the king was so nervous he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

He immediately stood up, eager to talk right away, but Alastor went straight to the shelves, picking a book up.

Lucifer was confused to say the least.

Alastor sat down and started to flip pages as if nothing had happened between them the day before. When he picked his cup up Lucifer became furious.

«Are you kidding me?»

The sound of the king’s voice made Alastor jump. He probably thought that their pact of silence was back on because he looked confused.

«Is there anything wrong sir?»

Lucifer was fuming.

«I thought-» he shook his head and tried again «We’ve been coming here for six months. You’re the one who started messing with me. I came here just to read in peace and you-» he had to take a moment to recompose.

«I was fine. Then you arrived and disrupted my peace. You started to get closer and at first I thought it was to mock me but then… it seemed like you cared.»

Alastor sat there, staring.

«I thought you were starting to like me. I know in front of everybody you were your usual bitch self but- but here, here you were sweet and kind and.. and you started getting closer, touching me, putting your hand on my shoulder and- and yesterday I thought..» he put his fingers in his hair.

«Yesterday I felt something. And I know you felt it too because you were giving me that weird specific smile you have when you are actually happy and.. and now you just sit there, drinking your stupid tea and reading your stupid book as if nothing happened. And you have the courage to ask me if there is something wrong?»

Lucifer was out of breath, hands shaking.

It took the deer a few seconds to take it all in. Then he slowly closed his book, put his cup down and got up.

«Six months ago I came here to annoy you.» he began «Charlie told me that she was worried about you and asked me to check on you, as if I was some kind of nurse. My original plan was to hide every book you were reading.» he softly smiled avoiding the other’s eyes.

«But then when I saw you the first night you arrived... You looked miserable my dear. Charlie was right, I just couldn’t take advantage of a helpless puppy like that.» he tried to joke around his feelings, but the nickname didn’t feel derogatory as probably intended.

Alastor stood up and turned himself towards the books. He talked slowly, but each word was tinted with honesty.

«I decided to keep you company, to keep an eye on you so that if I helped you you’d be in debt. But then you started being… you again. After a few nights of pestering you I saw your face changing, I saw your smile coming back. And I found myself waiting for those moments.» he sighed facing Lucifer who was so shocked he didn’t know how to react.

«I am- I am sorry for hurting your feelings: that was not my intention.» his sight finally met Lucifer’s «But I wasn’t toying with you. Even if it started like that: adter all it was endearing to see you embarrassed.» Lucifer rolled his eyes at that.

«But I soon realised I wasn’t just having fun though: I was seeking out these meetings. Suddenly I found myself thinking about you during the day. Hoping we would fight so I could spend more time with you.»

Alastor feelings were shining around them now, dancing through the space between their bodies.

«It took me a while to understand and accept what was happening. And then yesterday when you were adorned with the most beautiful smile I felt something I thought I would never feel. Something resembling… more than just affection.» he whispered.

Lucifer felt himself moving without being able to control the motion. His hands brushed Alastor’s hands and their eyes locked just like the first day there.

Their library. Their sacred and demonic place. The only room that saw them as friends.

Everything felt so distant, but so alive, buzzing with energy.

Alastor took his hands, but Lucifer was the one who closed the gap between their lips.

All those days spent bickering, arguing over stupid shit, fighting one against the other, only to be defeated by a small environment full of books.

The kiss was small, soft, more than just brushing their lips, intense but not overwhelming. It was everything Lucifer needed to remind him how to breathe, how to feel, how to live.

It tasted like rivalry and play, like mischief and honesty. It simply tasted like them.

They smiled at each other, Lucifer’s hands shaking.

«Shall we go back to our readings my dear?» Alastor asked. He seemed composed as always but a hint of blush was dusted on his cheeks.

«Yeah, of course.»

Before leaving, Lucifer found a new little note on the table. This time it wasn’t on the usual yellow post-it.

Charlie’s words were written on a heart shaped red card.

He smiled before leaving the room.

“May this library always bring joy and love to whoever needs it.

P.s. love you dad

-Charlie”

~~~

This message is for AnonEmu. I really hope you like this fic, I swear I tried to honour your prompts, and I hope the length of the it didn’t scare you.

When I first read your pairings I thought about writing for a lee!Alastor ler!Vox fic but honestly I’m so happy I changed my mind.

Trying to write a cute, fluffy and lovingly tickle scene between two of the characters that hate each other the most was challenging, but this gave me the opportunity to actually focus on the story and not just the tickling part, which I realise it’s quite short, but I really hope you can still appreciate it.

The characters are probably a bit OOC but I swear I tried to give them at least the right vibes.

Having said that, I really have to thank you AnonEmu, I really want to thank you for your prompts, and I really really really want to thank @cantsaythetword. You’ve been an amazing host, you’ve done so much and you deserve all the love and recognition in the world.

Now you probably wont see or hear from me for a few months, but I wanted to thank all the people who reblog, comment or like my art and writing.

You make me proud of my work.

[fvckhxpe]

scenes from a mixtape

(originally published in Juked magazine, January 2007)

I slide the mixtape into the stereo and press play.  She takes off her low-cut socks and throws them at me, humming along to the Gin Blossoms.  The loneliness leaks from me in slow drips until it disappears.

She thinks I'm crazy and she loves me.  Two of the same and we're poisoning each other, unhealthy decomposition losing its heartbeat.  Talking, together, copulating, her arms circling a torso, any waistline, but now it's mine.  Anyone would do, as long as they're bent/broken, so she and I continue on borrowed time.  And love comes in waves, small packages, coffins, a gesture, the way she mixes her fingers into mine when she grabs for my hand.  I know her well.  Sweet when tongues taste her, she's reminiscent of an old flower, the small yellow blossoms mothers teach children to behead and suck from the bottom, all the honeysuckle, a strange taste.  There must be a mathematical theory for her body, from the curve of her ass up to her perfect neck—her lips that are shamans when she speaks in the low-pitched rasp that soothes and shakes everything.  And to be there as she exists, to hear her sing in the shower, to watch her stir sugar into her coffee.  To feel tense, waiting for her to yell over:

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

And I keep pounding intricate diagonals of confessional bullshit (c-o-n-f-e-s-s-i-o-n-a-l SPACE b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t).  Up from the typewriter at the kitchen table, spying her form hanging in the doorframe of the bathroom, pouring drain cleaner into the sink.  Long looks across the room—we're fifteen feet apart and we miss each other.  We're killing each other.  She's walking to the bed.  I'm still typing.  "New Day Rising" kicks in quiet on the stereo—a barely audible gurgling, complete with tape hissssss.  I count one thousand and twenty-six words and I've got nothing more to say, but I don't want to stop.  I type ellipses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . until she calls over to me.

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

The tape pops and the tape's over, a loss of lo-fi noise, the songs slept to in younger years, the songs of the local college radio, the alternative, the rock and grunge and post-rock and post-grunge—flipping the cassette over and readying it for side two—play—and the buzzing starts, crackling from the dust and age of the carbon.  I remember the tape, I remember not having the money for a proper blank one, so it reads as a collection of Christmas traditionals erased over, small wads of paper still jammed in the top to fool the tape deck 'record' button.

      "Today is the greatest day I've ever known, can't wait for tomorrooooow . . ."

      She remembers this song, she sings along.  I leave the typewriter for her, I abandon and slither under the covers.  We sing the song together.

She's a knife cutting into me, in a way I won't comprehend until the pain is no longer there.  Long stretches of nothingness with her head on my chest, waiting for the sun to rise.  Early:  she doesn't inhale, she lets air come to her.  She stands on the heels of her feet, leaning into it, smiling with her eyes closed as if waking up is an endless pit into which she falls.  She lets her chest extend out and she yaaaaaaaaaawns and falls back to the mattress.

      "Do you think McDonald's is still serving breakfast?"

      The clock reads seven twenty-four a.m.

      "Is it really that early?"

      Seven twenty-five a.m.

      "I'm going back to sleep."

It goes wrong somewhere deep and patterned, the way she would run her thumb along the paper of a thick book she was thinking of buying as we stood in the downtown bookstore, the pages fluttering in a blow.  She and I, we had built swift and perfect on the downhill and were imploding like a dying sun with nothing more than a sliver of why it had all started.  It becomes open range barbwire and we never stop running, and when a love like that catches your skin, it shreds you and you bleed out right there, exactly where you fall.  We feel our timeline freefall:  I'm ordered to get a job; she stares in disgust at the typewriter; I spend more time at the labor office.  The air between us is white noise, bottoming out with frost as a blanket.  We're numb.  And one night Hüsker Dü kicks in on the tape deck and we're sitting on opposite sides of the apartment—not out of anger, simply necessity.  Neither of us sings along, and she stops telling me my goddamn typing is driving her crazy.

Days pass and I miss them, right past me, forgetting the clock, forgetting the shades are down.  I hardly sleep, the dreams aren't pleasant.  I sit at the edge of the mattress most nights; she sleeps through the sound of creaking boxsprings.  We keep on, the borrowed time decays.  And one day while I'm downtown pawning videos and selling blood for rent money, she realizes we're tearing each other apart with our separate young madnesses, and there's no disappearing act like the one that leaves me wondering how she took all her things in one trip.  We fall from orbit and burn up on reentry.  She leaves, things devolve, become simpler.  And the loneliness crawls back inside my stomach and drills into my spine.  It stays.  She's found a new waistline for her arms.

And I make a new mixtape.

[kiss-theggoat]

Can we have the after math of finding out it’s Billy? I’m fricken hooked on your writing.

A/N: You’re so sweet I’m flustered🥹 I’m in love with Billy Loomis so ask and you shall receive! This one’s a little short but I wasn’t too sure what direction to take it. Please leave more requests, I love them!

Familiar Pt. 2

Billy Loomis x F!Reader

Word Count: 800

Summary: Billy knows he has to kill you. He just can’t bring himself to do it.

TW: Thoughts of violence, suggestive, Billy is a murderer, Knives and Blood

Billy watched your face go from ecstasy to pure shock, horror, disbelief. You lay on your bed, vulnerable and spread for him, willingly giving your body to a serial killer, eyes wide and lips trembling as you whisper his name.

“…B-Billy?” You stuttered out, pretty cheeks turning a deeper shade of red, if that was even possible. A slap echoed throughout the room because of how hard you slapped your legs together, sitting up and covering your body completely, shaky hands searching for clothes or a blanket to cover yourself with. Billy was amused by this.

“You’re okay with fucking a faceless stranger but not a friend?” He teased, lips still flush and slick from your past activity. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, stomach doing backflips. Billy was who you’d been sleeping with all this time? You felt betrayed, but at the same time you thought it was the hottest thing ever that he had been keeping it a secret. On the other hand…this meant that your best friend, your Billy, was a killer.

“I…I don’t…” words wouldn’t form. Your brain was moving way too fast for your mouth.

With a sneaky hand he reached down to his black boot, yanking the Bowie knife from its side. “Thought I told you to keep your eyes shut, pretty girl.”

Hearing his voice instead of the modulator made your heart flutter. You’d yearned for years for Billy to call you his, be able to kiss him, hang on his arm during lunch like Sydney did. You found it hard to be scared of the knife in a moment like this, your feelings for Billy blocking your fear.

“I’m sorry Billy, I…you sounded so familiar I-I…I just needed to see you.”

Billy froze. Usually, killing people was no big deal for him. Slice and dice, go home, maybe get a snack and watch a movie, go to bed. He stood still, knife pointed towards you threateningly, but as he stared into your puppy dog eyes and heard you say his name so sweetly, he was reminded of why he kept coming to see you.

You were his escape from everything. The plan. Pretending to be in love with Sydney was exhausting, he hated her. She looked just like her mother, and he couldn’t wait to kill her, but you. He liked spending time with you, and the fact that you willingly slept with Ghostface, not knowing it was him, could make him cum on the spot.

You were just as fucked up as he was.

He stepped forward, pressing the knife gently against your cheek and pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear with it. “Such a shame.” He said softly, trying to hype himself up somehow. Convince himself to get rid of you, like he knew he had to.

You didn’t know where to look. You stayed still, frozen, scared that any move would cost you your life. Finally, you stared up at him. “Please. I’m not going to tell anyone.” You whispered, hand creeping up towards Billy’s.

He didn’t move. He let you touch his hand, gently grasping his wrist. You didn’t push the knife away from his face like he expected, instead, you held it still and pushed your cheek into it slightly. A bead of blood welled at the surface of your skin, trailing warmth down your face. Before the blood could reach your jawline, Billy lowered the knife in shock.

He could trust you. He knew he could. Stu would be pissed off. Should he tell you that Stu’s in on it too? Maybe not yet.

He dropped the knife onto the bed, watching it bounce off your plush comforter, making him think about everyone who’s died at its blade. “I believe you. But I’m gonna need some collateral.” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You were confused, eyebrows furrowed and head shaking slightly. “What do you mean?” Your voice was still timid. Billy’s large hand moved past you, grabbing the knife again and with the other hand, he grabbed yours. The handle of his knife was cold, haunting in your innocent hand.

“Stu’s party on Friday.” He said, stroking the dull side of the blade as it sat heavy in your palm. “You…help me.”

Your stomach dropped in horror. He wanted you to kill someone. “Who?” You asked, wide eyes staring at the shining steel. He grinned his perfect grin at you, enticing you with his good looks that you’d admired for years.

“Tatum.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

5, 14, 15, 17

More outsiders asks? Heck yeah!

5. What are your favourite ships?

a) Curly Shepard x Ponyboy Curtis- idk why other than the fact that fanon Curly seems to balance out Ponyboy perfectly, and that I read a Curly fit on ffn when I was like fifteen that fundamentally changed my brain chemistry

b) Steve Randle x Sodapop Curtis- I don’t like any other within gang ship but Soda and Steve make sense to me and ngl my closeted ass clocked them as gay when I was reading the book because of the ‘pillow fight’ scene. I genuinely answered a comprehension question in class like ‘Ponyboy’s naïveté is shown through the fact he believes soda never drinks and that Soda and Steve were having a pillow fight when they slept together’ and my teacher had to be like oh sweetie no….

c) Marcia x Two-bit Matthews- Not a HUGE fan but they had such chemistry and I wish that could’ve been explored. I’m actually working on a fit about them rn, just because I wanna explore Marcia’s psyche. She was fun :)

14. Five headcanons I basically see as canon

a) Steve is secretly SUPER protective of Ponyboy, partially because he knows Sodapop would never be ok if something ever happened to Pony and he couldn’t stand it if Soda’s spark ever went out, but also because he wants Ponyboy to have the happy childhood he never had.

b) Darry absolutely dotes on Ponyboy, even though he’s strict, he’s lenient about letting Pony go places and works overtime to make sure he can afford to get Ponyboy everything he needs (and some stuff he simply wants), especially after Windrixville.

c) Johnny Cade is scary looking. Full stop. The gang just doesn’t see him that way so it doesn’t show in Ponyboy’s narration

d) Dallas Winston had a good mom and a happy childhood and her death was the catalyst that made him into the hoodlum he was.

e) Sodapop Curtis absolutely drinks, Ponyboy just doesn’t believe he does and Soda is not anxious to correct him because he doesn’t want Ponyboy to see him differently

15. Five headcanons that are entirely self-indulgent

a) Angela Shepard and Curly Shepard have to share a room because Tim refuses to share with anyone. Neither of them actually hates it half as much as they pretend they do.

b) Part of why Curly and Ponyboy became close was because Ponyboy was struggling with getting over his concussion, and the side effects were really stressful for him (dizzy spells, blurry vision, absentmindedness) and Curly kinda helped him with it because Curly spent 90% of his childhood concussed so he knew what Pony was going through

c) Tim Shepard and Sylvia are best friends and would kill for each other but not die for each other. However, they would avenge each other’s deaths.

d) Steve Randle wishes more than anything in the world that Darry Curtis was actually his irl older brother 

e) Two-bit’s little sister HATES Ponyboy Curtis because her older brother spends more time playing older brother to him than he spends actually being an older brother to her.

17. Are there any criticisms or salt you have with the book?

My criticisms with the book lie with the author. SE Hinton has proven to be homophobic and racist, and its written into the book, which is my biggest issue. I love the story of The Outsiders but do not want to support Hinton or her harmful, bigoted ideology under any circumstances. (For anyone out there who wants a copy of the book but doesn’t want to support Hinton, you can find a free pdf online, all you gotta do is google it)

On a slightly lighter note, I would have loved to have seen more of the female characters in the book. Marcia in particular had so much potential, and I wish we’d seen one actual scene with Sandy or Sylvia.

Thanks for the ask!!!!!

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1⛤Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, drugs, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, a little angst if you squint.

⛤Words: 2.7k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old high school crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I've got a super extra long chapter for you guys today! @hellfiremunsonn is my faithful beta reader and assists me so much. Thank you guys for making my come-back series a fun one. My next chapter will be the end of this series.

⛤Chapter: 4 "Subtle" Chemistry Star court mall is always at least a little crowded. The lively hum of conversations, laughter, and distant music formed a vibrant backdrop. Storefronts beckoned with their displays of trendy fashion, electronics, and enticing sales. Shoppers meandered through the wide walkways, their bags filled with many treasures. Neon signs buzzing, the occasional sounds of a cash register, and the scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It was just like you remembered it. You had a blast hanging out with Robin. She picked out a brand new pair of ankle length combat boots. You both decided to get ice cream and take a break from walking around. The food court wasn’t super crowded, it was the perfect place to chat. “Can I tell you something? It’s a secret so dont go telling Steve.” “Ohhhh is it secret time?” I won't tell Stevie boy, I promise.” Robin raises her right hand, “Scouts honor.” “Okay. Uhhh…well…I slept in Eddie’s bed last night. He came home from tour in the middle of the night.” Your face turns redder with every word. “Oh shit. Wow Y/N, I didn't think you had it in yah.” She chuckles and puts another spoonful of strawberry ice cream in her mouth. “We didn't do anything!” You affirm your tone a little on the defensive side. “What!? I’m just saying you guys have been madly in love with each other since sophomore year and neither of you have had the audacity to tell each other for some unspoken reason…until now.” She's not wrong, Robin has always been one to spell it out for you loud and clear. She never holds back, it's something you’ve always appreciated about her. Robin has been telling you to come clean for ages now.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don't want to screw up my friendship with Eddie. Also, he's like a big rockstar now, I doubt he has any time for stuff like that.” You explain as you sink into your chair. "He probably has some cool metalhead girlfriend I don't know about.” You take a bite of your vanilla ice cream. It's so fitting for this conversation, vanilla ice cream for a vanilla person.

“God it's been years and I still can’t wrap my head around your stupid self doubt.” Robin says, shaking her head. “Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. When you left he moped around his trailer for weeks. No one could get him to come out, not even Dustin. One time I went over to his place to check on him and he was sloshed out of his mind. He told me, "The songs he sings don't mean a thing if you’re not there to hear it.”

“He didn't say that.” You scoff.

“Oh but he did, and he keeps a photo of you in his wallet.” Robin says teasingly.

“You know about that too?!” It's becoming apparent that everyone knows this except you.

“Of course I do. It's me, I know everything.” Robin says with a cocky tone.

You and Robin decide to float around the mall a little longer. A small department store was calling your name. The story had low lighting and they were playing some classic rock on the radio. Robin's goal was a pair of shoes, your goal however, was a hot outfit for tonight's party at the hideout. It honestly didn't take you long to find the cutest black skirt with chain embellishments, you picked out some new stockings too. —-------------- After the girls left Eddie felt like he could finally breathe. He finishes his coffee and breakfast, then falls backwards onto his bed. He stares at his ceiling as he finds himself lost in the intricate dance of thoughts that revolve around you. Images of you smiling genuine and heartwarming, flashed like snapshots in his imagination. Casual conversations, stolen glances, and the subtle chemistry that lingered in the air when you were near. The anticipation of his next encounter with you and the sweet nervousness that comes with it. The soft glow of the afternoon sun is casting a warm hue across his room. Steve and Dustin went grocery shopping, the apartment was silent. Eddie pulls himself out of his thoughts and shakes them off. He grabs a pre-rolled joint and lights it, Eddie is nervous and he knows it. All these years and he still can't tell you the truth. His life has changed so drastically for the better ever since he signed that record deal. But there was always something missing, something he was holding out for. Of course many girls are interested in him, but he's not interested in many girls. He promised himself after you left that next time he sees you, he is gonna tell you. If he misses this opportunity, he might lose you entirely. He almost completely gave up on you after a year of no contact. But every time he opened his wallet, he saw a glimpse of your face, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of you or the photo. Eddie puffs on his joint, each inhale making him a little less anxious. He tries to think about something else. It will be nice to hang out at the hideout again. That was where he played his very first gigs when the band was just starting out. They barely had any attendees and the band definitely sounded rough. Then Eddie recalls you being there for every single show. Your smiling face in the crowd, cheering him on after every song.  “Uhgg, get it together, man.” He says under his breath. He finishes his joint and decides to get dressed. —--------------- When you returned with Robin, Steve was putting away the last of the groceries. “We’re back!” Robin announces. Dustin is reading on the couch, when you look down the hall, Eddie’s bedroom door is open. “Welcome back, we will head to the bar when I finish this. I also need to get dressed. Eddie is out, said something about dropping off some equipment with Gareth. He’s gonna meet us there.” Steve says. Honestly, you were a little bummed. You were hoping he’d be around when you got back. But you shrug it off and take your stuff to his room. Robin follows you and shuts the door behind her. You both change into something a bit more stylish. You had a cropped Def Leppard shirt that you paired with the new skirt. This outfit would go well with boots and stockings. Robin didn't change anything really, just her shirt and shoes. You put on a couple of layered chain necklaces, a few rings, and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. “I am astonished really.” Robin says with a smile as she looks you up and down. You tilt your head in response and she laughs. “Eddie is gonna have a full on heart attack when he sees you.” Your face feels a little hot and you laugh nervously. “Do you think so?” “Oh yeah. No doubt.” She smirks. “Someones lookin’ to get lucky.” “Shut up!” You place your hand over her mouth. She does the unthinkable licks the palm of your hand. You give her this horrified face followed by both of you hysterically laughing like a couple of hyenas.  ---------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says. --------------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She asks and hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Nancy says between sobs. Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You reply.Hours slipped away unnoticed as the night unfolded, a mosaic of laughter, camaraderie, and the shared appreciation of the moment. Eddie could help but sneak glances at you, it was hard not to. He’s been trying to keep his cool all night, he had several shots of whiskey to build up some liquid courage. The world outside the café window dimmed as everyone delved into stories and life updates.

Eddie hands you his pack of cigarettes, silently asking if you’d like to go outside with him. You take one and place it between your lips. You and Eddie excuse yourselves from the group and head outside, the cold air sent a shiver up your spine.

“Brr! I forgot how cold it is when the sun goes down. I should have brought a coat.” You offhandedly say as Eddie lights your cigarette for you. Eddie removes his leather jacket, leaving him with a thick black hoodie. He drapes it around your shoulders and you are immediately much more comfortable. Your face gets a little red, he’s always been such a gentleman. You both lean up against Eddie's van. His thoughts are a symphony of emotions, dancing between hope and uncertainty. The evening was filled with a serene ambiance, and even in the quiet moments, you still felt comfort in his presence. “Y/N…” Eddie finally pipes up. “Yeah?” “I think we should talk. Y’know…about where we stand with each other.” Eddie admits. Your eyes widen, this is finally happening. The anxiety sets in and you try to swallow your nerves. Eddie stands in front of you, looking at his feet. “Do you remember, right before you left, that time we got high in my van next to lovers lake?” “Yeah. I do.” You answer quietly. “Do you remember me telling you that no one could ever replace you in my life?” He asks and you nod. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a sunny day, the light glistening along the top of the water. You and Eddie passed a joint back and forth. You gave him a small wallet sized photo from picture day. “I still have that photo, I keep it in my wallet. You told me to keep it as a reminder, so I don't forget you. The thing is, meeting you was like finding my favorite song in a world full of noise, and I can't stop hitting replay no matter how many times I hear it.” Eddie takes a deep breath. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. You were stunned, absolutely speechless. In that moment, the unspoken became words, there was no going back now. Eddie moves a few inches closer, pinning you between himself and van. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp, the air was charged with tension. You met his gaze with a gentle smile. Without another word, Eddie cupped your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kiss him back, It spoke volumes with no words at all. Eddie presses his body against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You can't stop shaking, your nerves combined with the cold air made it impossible to be completely still. Eddie finally breaks away from you and opens the back doors to his van. “Hop in, you’re freezing to death.” Eddie says, you take his hand as he helps you into the van then he climbs in after you and shuts the door. You take a seat on an upside down milk crate while Eddie starts the car and cranks the heat. You still can't believe what just happened, you’ve only ever dreamed of this moment. Eddie grabs his acoustic guitar and sits on top of a large amp. He took a deep breath, fingers gently caressing the strings of the guitar, and he started to strum. “I feel so stupid for leaving you alone out here.” You say while looking down at your hands. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. I just assumed you moved on and didn’t need any reminders.” “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I forgive you.” He chuckles. “Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” You recognize the tune he's playing, you’ve heard it before. “What song is this?” You ask, it's so familiar. “Photograph by Def Leppard.” He answers with a half smile and you smile back at him, your eyes widen as you recall the lyrics. He played this song for you before, but you ant remember how long ago. 

“Y’know, I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you and not be madly in love with everything you do.” You reply, hearing him play was actually really calming, you’ve missed this side of him. The guitar became an extension of his feelings, his voice carrying a sweetness to it, like warm honey. ♫“I see your face every time I dream

On every page, every magazine

So wild and free,

So far from me

You're all I want, my fantasy

Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown

Oh-oh, look what you've done

Photograph~

I don't want your photograph

I don't need your photograph

All I've got is a photograph

But it's not enough”♫ As the last chord resonated. Eddie sets the guitar against the wall of the van. You spring into his arms, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in his shoulder, you didn't expect to get so emotional. You’re so happy but you still feel so guilty, you question why anyone would leave this feeling behind.

Eddie pulls you into his lap. “Are you crying?! Oh shit, no don’t cry…”Eddie squeezes you a little tighter. “Shhh…it's okay, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, “I love you, Eddie.” The words spilled out.  “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” Eddie says, when you look back at him he smiles and brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, it's like he read your mind. You nod in response and Eddie chuckles. “Let's get out of here.”

[creative-caramel-coffee]

i know you've already done a couple period fics. but would you be open to doing a period fic, while reader has a cold or stomach bug?

currently i have both- while also being on my period-

so we love the passing out while standing, fever showers, throwing up AND bloody sheets. great combo-

Periods plus puking

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: your period and the stomach flu. Could life get any worse?

TW: fever, Flu, non-sexual nudity, period, blood, slight angst, vomit, fainting

A/n I think I covered everything you wanted plus I threw in a few more. :) hope you like it.

When you woke up with a wetness between your legs and the sheets felt damp you almost cried. You had been awake half the night with your head in the toilet. A mix of a stomach bug and your period the cramps were unending. Your girlfriends were out on a mission and were suppose to be home early this morning but they must have slept elsewhere so they didn’t wake you. Jokes on them you had barely slept.

It was two am when you finally shut your eyes and your body seemed to take over and sleep.

It took all the strength you had to pull back the sheet and get up. Feeling the uncomfortable ache or nausea return you knew you had mere seconds before you were sick again. On shaky legs you pulled yourself along by the wall. Falling to your knees as you gagged and retched. More stringy puke came up and the sour smell assaulted your senses. Tears welled in your eyes before slipping down your cheeks. You choked back a sob and ducked your head again to be sick. After you felt the urge pass you didn’t have the energy to flush so you simply starfishes on the cool tiled floor. The room seemed both too hot and too cold somehow. Your blood soaked Pj shorts would have to wait until the rooms stopped spinning to be dealt with.

So here you were, laid on the bathroom floor, life couldn’t seem to get any worse. You closed your eyes and sighed. Hoping they would be back soon.

Wanda had made breakfast, they wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed when they returned, as a sorry for being pulled away last minute for a mission. Wanda had just kicked open your bedroom door with Nat following close behind when she almost dropped the plates. A huge bloodstain marked the crisp blue sheets and she stifled a gasp. She immediately felt bad she hadn’t been there to help you out on your period. Looking around she saw the light on in the bathroom and set down the food on the bedside table.

“I’ll get started on the sheets.” Nat frowned.

“Don’t worry about it.” Wanda waved her hands and the sheets were fresh and clean again.

“Neat trick.” Nat grinned

“Comes in handy from time to time.” She smiled

“Let’s go find our girl.” Nat shot back

“Y/n/n?” Wanda called, knocking on the closed door. When all she heard was a groan in response she tried the handle, frowning it was open. Carefully she stepped into the bathroom.

A hand came to her mouth at the sight of you soaked from the waist down in blood and laid on the floor. Your cheeks were flushed and she saw puke in the toilet. Carefully she came and sat by your side.

“Oh love. Why didn’t you call us baby.” She cooed, running a hand through your hair.

Nat walked in and frowned. Walking over to the toilet she grimaced and flushed the evidence of your earlier activities.

“Baby you feel a bit warm, can I check your temperature love?” Wanda asked placing the back of her hand to your sweaty forehead.

“I’ll get it” nat said and began rummaging in the cupboard.

“Poor baby, you’ve really been through it huh my love. And without natty and i here to help you. Its ok my sweet we’re here now and we’re not going anywhere.” She continued to brush the sweaty hair from your face.

“Got it.” Nat said, coming over to hand Wanda the thermometer.

“Open up my sweetness.” Wanda said tapping your chin with her thumb.

You opened your mouth and Wanda chuckled, slipping the metal under your tongue. Quickly you sat up as the feeling in your mouth brought on another bout of gagging. Wanda quickly removed the thermometer and nat guided your shaking form over the toilet as you were sick again. Wanda drew slow circles on your back with her hand and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Nat held your hair back and neither girl shied away when they heard the sick splash into the bowl.

“Aww baby. Its ok. We’re here. Get it all up.” Wanda cooed, when the feeling passed you flopped against Wanda eyes half closed.

Nat slipped into the room, you hadn’t even noticed her leave, too busy being sick.

“I got this from Bruce. This way we wont have to stick anything in her mouth.” Nat explained handing Wanda the fancy thermometer.

Wanda ran the tip over your forehead and it beeped straight away.

She showed the number to Nat who let out a low whistle. Your hands quickly came to your ears as the noise made the headache worse.

“Sorry love.” Nat said pulling your hands from your ears. “You have a high fever my sweet. I was just worried is all.”

“How high?” You croaked throat raw from being sick. It was the first words you had said to them in days and you sounded like you were half frog.

“Oh love, try not to speak.” Wanda cooed, when the couple words had brought on a harsh fit of coughing which descended into gagging and Wanda held you in her arms over the toilet. Nat pulled your hair into a bun and tied it up with the wristband she always had on her.

You gagged fruitlessly, your body having ejected everything already. Tears burned your eyes and you finally stopped.

“Nothing left.” You coughed pitifully.

“Shh.” Wanda pressed a cold finger to your lips.

“Your fever is 102.9 my love, and you know what that means.” Nat sighed running a hand through her own fiery red locks.

“No shower.” You whined like a toddler.

“Aww bubs it’ll be over soon, plus we need to clean you up down there.” Wanda cooed motioning to your lower half. You had honestly forgotten about your period. Which made itself known once more with another harsh cramp. You whined and curled into a ball in Wanda’s arms which wrapped around you protectively. Her fingers glowing a soft red over your back as she used her magic to force your muscles to relax. You make a choked noise somewhere between a sob and a sigh at the feeling and you relaxed in her arms.

“Do you think your done, can we get you in the shower my sweet.” Nat cooed, crouching down beside Wanda. You nodded weakly and tried to stand. Too fast as your vision swam and dipped and everything went black.

“Y/N!” Nat cried as she grabbed your unconscious form before you could hit your head on the bathtub behind you. She carefully laid you in the recovery position like Bruce had shown her in case you threw up again. Wanda stroked the hair from your flushed cheeks and softly tapped your cheek.

“Y/n/n, sweetness, my love. Come back to us baby girl.” Wanda said softly.

Your eyes fluttered open and Wanda heaved a sigh of relief.

“Aww bubs, stood up too fast. Come let us help you.” Wanda turned on the bath and nat took her position beside you.

“Slowly now.” Nat said as you tried to sit up as you felt a hand on your lower back guide you into a sitting position.

“You body only reacted like that because its been under too much stress lately but it you pass out again I’m taking you to see Bruce. No ifs or buts.” She said firmly but sweetly. Nat put her armed a under you, scooping you up and putting you on the counter. Wanda carefully with the help of her magic to hold you up, took off your shirt, putting your shorts and undies in the sink to be washed later and scooped you up and stepped into the tub. Passing you to Nat she sat down in the cool water. Nat passed you to her. You shivered when your body came into contact with the water, squirming and whining until Wanda’s arms wrapped around you.

“Im gonna go deal with this.” Nat said holding up your bloodied clothes.

“Ok love I’ve got her for now.” Wanda agreed. Your eyes were glazed over as you slipped them shut. Dozing in Wanda’s lap as she used her magic to clean you off and keep your blood from staining the bath water red.

When your temp was lower and she heard soft snores coming from you she relaxed. Slightly. There was still a long way for you to go to get better but it was looking up slightly. She held you still in her arms when your eyes shot open and you sat up quickly. Panicking Wanda summoned a sick bag and thrust it under your chin as you brought up stringy bile. She rubbed your back and whispered in your ear.

“Its ok. Its ok my sweet. Your ok. Im here” she said over and over again until you had stopped.

You simply deflated, exhausted in her arms. Wanda threw away the sickbag and carefully stood with you in her arms shushing you as you whined. Using her magic she dressed you after drying you off and avoiding getting blood on the towel. She made sure there was a pad in your undies for you as she slipped them onto your hips. All your weight was lent against her as you stood with the help of her magic. After you were both dressed Wanda scooped you up again and carried you into the bedroom. Depositing you carefully on the bed she pulled up the sheets and slipped in beside you. Running a hand through your hair she took your temperature again the lower number giving her hope. She summoned a sickbag and put it on the bedside incase you were sick again and she wasn’t awake.

You were snoring softly as the door cracked open and nat came back.

“How’s she doing?” Nat asked concerned.

“Better but not good, she was sick again in the bath.”

“With you in it?” Nat asked wrinkling her nose slightly.

“No i summoned sickbag before she threw up on us both and in the water.” Wanda said. “Her temp has lowered slightly which is a good sign and I’ve put a sickbag by the bed if she needs it. But right now she needs sleep, i asked Jarvis and apparently she barely got three hours last night. Poor thing was up all night with her head in the toilet.” Wanda sighed looking down at you while you slept, and running her hands through your hair.

“Well we’re here now and thats what counts the most i guess.” Nat sighed and slipped in on your other side sandwiching you between both girls.

And thats how you slept for the next few days, under the watchful eyes of your girlfriends and there were careful to always have one of them with you to hold your hand as you were sick and change the sheets when you bled on them. You couldn’t have asked for better girlfriends and frankly the rings in your bedside draw was on your mind the whole time only solidifying your plans with their love.

MASTERLIST