#he wants to see your face <3 especially as you try to keep all your noises down <3 and not fall apart too loudly <3

[algerian-lady]

^^^ i second this all. To add up to this:

1. The story with Sansal goes deep, this guy used to work in the Algerian government in Boutflika's era (the same he'd criticize as corrupt), he was a cadre working in trade yet he had 'special relations' with France and the French consulate (we know how some of them were involved in corruption now), many consider that he was a spy to the French government in the corruption era because of his links that extended to the head of state (literally tagging along Macron in his official visits). Sansal was kicked off his position for never being present in it, while confronted by the minister back then he was disrespectful (further showed his involvement with corruption) so he ended his work, that former minister had openly exposed his lies ever since.

Ever since he was fired, he was considered some symbol of freedom of speech (as if he was fired for his writings), given the French citizenship and started his full NeoHarka era where he says everything the French government wants him to say, from Islamophobia, to zionism agenda, to shitting on Algeria, its history and government, saying some unacceptable stuff.

Like you said, he went to visit the zionists, taking pictures in hait al buraq, but what's worse is that he used that to say "hey I did that with the Algerian citizenship, it's completely normal and now I'm allowed on Algerian soils ," while we all know this is completely illegal. But even with everything he said, he was allowed to go to Algeria many times, despite Algerians complaining about it and trying to make a case against him. What was the reason that finally pushed us to arrest him is his latest declaration that the western half of Algeria belongs to Morocco, this is completely illegal in the Algerian law, to question the territorial integrity of Algeria, for some colonialism agenda. (reminder that this guy said the Chouhada were dumb to fight France).

The thing is, the defiance of showing your face after this clear offense to the law was obviously deliberate, Algeria is again a gherbal to hide the disastrous state of France today, as soon as he was arrested and even though it was declared on national news many times "Algeria arrested sensal", was turned to "Sansal disappeared," as if we're a jungle not a sovereign state lol, and all exterme right figures started shitting their pants (ofc a NeoHarka, Islamophobic anti-Algerian spy like that was their ally and still needed, especially now to shit more on Algeria.)

2. The French president said "it is harming Algeria image to keep a sick old man without medical care under lock," when wrong, he is often seeing doctors, and false he wasn't arrested for being an old man, but for doing illegal shit. And I didn't know there was an age for prison in France? Last time I checked, France never batted an eyelash when many countries had been detaining older ppl, including themselves. Is is because he's got French citizenship? Well, before that, he's Algerian and is judged as such.

3. like you said France has no business interfering with our justice, when the French police killed Nahel (who has Algerian origins) and Algeria merely asked where the investigation reached, all of France protested to not interfere in their justice system (that is completely incompetent). This is also the France that illegally financed the FIS, if you go back to their media archives, they used all their means to protect them too (despite being Islamophobic) and are now trying to finance other extremist groups, they also shelter the MAK movement which is considered terrorist here, France whom also illegally jail Palestine supporters. And so on (also obviously France the old colonizer, today neocoloniser)

So yep obviously not a country that can give moral lessons to anyone, least of all Algeria lol. Various Algerians parties have given the French president a proper response, calling his declarations scandalous , yet honestly I just find him cringe and I don't think he deserves our attention. He's just showing the real face of France, how it'd manipulate you will all those petty tactics if you go against their interests.

4. He also said something about "we love Algeria, we have their children" which is similar to what the Algerian president had repeated many times, that we can't cut relations with France because of our diaspora. So here the French president is using another manipulation tactic. Frankly, him saying "Algeria is dishonoring itself" is closely similar to the speech all French media took after Sansal arrestation, albeit a bit softened, since they'd literally say that "the military regime in Algeria is either a dictatorship or with France". I'd like to not that France let all those media talk shit about us for a month (for décennies actually) and after they understood it did nothing, they sent their president, yet again to try and control us, use this case to manipulate us and gaslight us.

5. The second infuriating point of his speech (I actually made a post abt it), was very well responded to by Tchad and Senegal. Not only he is calling Africans, ungrateful, bad-mannered and what was that 'it's not transmissible to humans'? He is simply being decomplexed in his colonialism, flaunting French Interventionism, how it is used to decide for those countries leaders in favor of France, wants Africans to say thank you about that (as if that's something to be thanked for, when you know that's exactly what's been keeping Africa behind, since all those corrupt leaders are never in favor of their people) then he went on and lied about how the French don't get kicked out (apparently they are here for moral reasons lol) but they coordinate their kicking out, they are just polite to let the Africans announce it first, okay, what do you call the fleeting of French armies from Mali and Niger? Coordination apparently, nice job being the kick. Honestly that's such a childish speech, happy to see the two countries responding in detail about it.

6. Yes, France hasn't stopped using the Guillotine long ago lol, in their former colonies that is. And yes I do not care for whether you think some white jokes are more important than our sensitivity, it is about time you start taking amends, change your speech to be more morally acceptable, be hyper aware of the crimes of colonialism, guillotine was considered some morbid symbol of justice, not anymore, now it's just considered a symbol of oppression.

I’m staying away from Tumblr because y’all tend to encourage me a bit too much and lately I don’t need to be encouraged to say what I think. I need to calm down.

But I will make one comment about Macron and France these past few weeks.

Once a colonizer always a colonizer.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter five

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a day trip to ibiza, a nightclub, and max—who can't keep his mouth shut. (5.3k)

a/n: apologies for the lack of new chapters these past few months! writer’s block is such a bitch but i’m happy to say that i am back and working on this series as best i can <3

previous chapter | masterlist

Everything people say about time flying when you’re having fun has never been truer. You’ve developed a close friendship with Lando and his friends, and something even better with the boy himself. 

You’d say you were surprised at how fast you’ve fallen for him, but you’d be lying. Sure, you haven’t known him long at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Lando Norris really was that missing thing in your life. He slots in like he was meant to, just as you hoped he would. 

You’ve all found yourselves spending more time at their place than yours because it’s just nicer. Today is no different. 

Lando’s chin sits hooked over your shoulder comfortably, stubble on his face a little scratchy, but it doesn’t annoy you. Especially not with the way the thumb of his hand on your waist is rubbing circles into the sliver of bare skin between your top and shorts.

He’s warm to the touch, but not unbearably so, more like a comforting warmth draped against you as he nuzzles closer. 

He likes to be close to you, you've learned very quickly—more often than not always having some part of him touching you. Fingers intertwined with yours, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your waist. When you're sitting, it's a thigh pressed against yours, a warm palm blanketing your knee. 

Right now, he’s decided on sharing the same sun lounger as you, wedged himself in behind you comfortably.

Normally, you might’ve been put off by the sheer amount of casual physical affection he shows, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. You want to be close to him all the time too, you’re just taking a little longer to warm up to instigating it. 

“What’re you lot up to tomorrow?” He asks casually, walking his fingers down your arm. 

“Mm, nothing probably. Might just do a beach day and chill out. Maybe take a little walk, I dunno.” You shrug. “You?” 

“Flying to Ibiza for the day. My mate Martin’s doing a DJ thing at a club there, figured we’d go support a friend.” 

You pout up at him, cooing. “You guys are so sweet.” 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Come off it now.” He rolls his eyes, pinching your hip. You squirm at the ticklish feeling, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He perks up then, and you swear you can almost see the gears turning in his brain. “Would you guys wanna come with us? We could hit up the beach together, hit up Martin’s gig at night, then fly back here afterwards.”

“It’s a boys’ day trip, we wouldn’t want to crash it,” You insist, shaking your head. “We’ll see each other when you get back.” 

“But I’ll miss you.” He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“I think you’ll be fine.” 

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, muffling his response. “No, I think I might die.”

It’s kind of sweet, you think, that Lando gets so pouty over not getting to see you for just a day. One might call him clingy, but you find it cute.

You attest it to the two of you still being in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, and it makes you happy, but something else gnaws at your stomach. You’re not even sure what it is. 

Before you can say anything, he angles his head towards the rest of the group, covering your ears gently before shouting, “Oi! We’re all going to Ibiza tomorrow, it’s been settled already. We’ll swing round yours to pick you girls up, then head to the airport.” 

He gets no objections from anyone, which you didn’t think he would, and it makes him beam. 

You try to see it from his perspective. Sun, sand, beautiful views. The two of you get to spend the day together on the gorgeous beaches of Ibiza. If you put aside your worries, everything sounds wonderful.

So why do you have this nagging feeling this isn't going to go as smoothly as Lando says it will? 

-------

It seems like you’ve just blinked and suddenly it’s the next morning and you’re heading into the hangar of a private airstrip.

The sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon, and honestly, you’re still half asleep. Most of your weight is leaned against Lando’s shoulder, who’s got a strong arm slung around your waist even as he chats away with his boys on the way in. 

You haven’t packed much at all, just a bag with a nicer outfit you can change into before going to the club. Lando insisted on carrying it for you, so it sits looped over his other shoulder. 

You aren’t sure what you were expecting when he’d brought up flying to Ibiza just for the day, but for some reason, the private jet your gaze lands on as soon as you enter the hangar has you a bit stunned for words. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings wakes you up even more as you ascend the stairs onto the jet. 

A long sofa stretches across the wall opposite you, sleek white leather to match the cushy armchair you’ve settled into. Elegant polished dark wood tables separate the banks of chairs, and there’s a fully stocked bar at the back. Even the lighting of the cabin screams money, not those awful dim blue lights on commercial airlines. 

This is the kind of thing you’ve only seen in movies, and now here you are about to enjoy a few hours on one with your very new, very rich boyfriend. It feels unreal, and honestly a little daunting.

Then in the back of your mind, you remember that this is probably just how his life is. Private jets and day trips to beautiful places, anything he wants anytime he wants it. 

It’s one of two thoughts echoing through your head through the whole flight, the second one being that you don’t belong here. You don’t ride along in chartered jets, or go on impromptu day trips to beautiful islands. This is all completely uncharted territory for you and it makes your stomach twist, but you’re able to just pass it off as being a nervous flier. 

Lando holds your hand, makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time, and that’s that. There’s no need to worry him about what’s running rampant through your mind. 

Thankfully, you fall asleep not too long into the flight, and you don’t wake up until you’re on the ground in Ibiza. From there, it feels like a whirlwind has taken hold of you. You’re put into a car, driving, driving, driving god knows where. 

Lando won’t tell you a thing, just kisses your cheek and tells you not to worry. And just when you think you’re at your destination, you’re squeezed into a golf cart that eventually drops you off at a seemingly private marina. 

A large yacht sits before you, pristine white and polished to perfection. Lando beams, holding his arms out to the side like a game show host. “Ta-da! Look what we got for the day!” 

You’re at a loss for words. When he’d agreed to a joint beach day, you thought you’d actually be going to…well, a beach. 

“How the fuck did you manage to charter a yacht on such short notice?” Maren asks, clearly disbelieving. 

Lando aims a look at her over his sunglasses, arching a brow. “What, like it’s hard?” 

“Don’t do Elle Woods. You can’t pull it off,” Samira chimes in, to which Max nods his agreement. 

“Everyone’s a critic nowadays,” Lando mutters under his breath, flipping both of them off. “Just get on the boat, dream killers!” 

Your friends seem to be taking it in a much better stride than you are, because they go exploring the moment they climb right on alongside the rest of the boys, chattering excitedly. You, on the other hand, have to take a moment after Lando helps you on. 

“So? What do you think?” He asks earnestly, rocking on the balls of his feet. 

“It’s gorgeous,” You admit, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a yacht.” 

“Yeah, I got it so we could have the day to ourselves. Dock somewhere remote, swim and have fun without anyone else around. I know how important privacy is to you, and I wanted you to be able to relax today.”

It hits you like a heavyweight right then. Lando did this for you. 

Went through all these last minute hoops that probably cost a fortune just so you’d feel comfortable. It has to be the sweetest, albeit most outrageous, thing anyone’s ever done for you. 

You close the distance between you in two steps, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The force of it makes him stumble back a little bit, but he’s quick to recover, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck with a smile you can feel pressed against your skin. 

“That was one hell of a thank you,” He breathes. You shrug innocently and he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to have some fun?” 

Turns out fun means putting an anchor down just off the shore of some small island not too far away. The day is starting to heat up a bit, perfect for you and the girls to stretch out on the cushioned benches and soak up the sun whilst the boys mess around in the water off the back of the boat. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, but you’re about ready to drift off when you feel something on your face. A drop of water hits you square in the forehead, another hits your cheek, and it makes you peek one eye open. 

Lando stands right above you, beaming down at you as he drips water everywhere.

“Hi. Water’s nice,” He says, shaking his hair out not unlike a dog would shake out its fur. Droplets spray all over you with the action, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily. 

You wipe the water off your face with an amused chuckle. “Yeah, I think I can tell. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You should come in.” 

“Maybe later. My sunscreen might not be dry yet.” 

“I think it’s plenty dry.” 

You arch a brow at his insistence, suspicious of the mischievous smile curving his lips, the glint in his eyes. He’s got something in that mind of his, and you’re starting to grasp what it might be. You sit up, inching away from him as he creeps closer. “Stop it. Lando, no. Don’t even think about it!”

He flops on top of you gently, enough to make you roll your eyes but not enough to smother you. “Lovely place to have a lay, innit?” He says innocently, squinting down at you. 

“It was,” You groan dramatically, wrinkling your nose at the puddle of water beginning to pool around you. “Now I’m being crushed.” 

“Are you calling me fat?” 

“No, no, the words you're looking for are big and strong and handsome. Did I mention the word strong?” 

“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” 

“Careful, or I might start to think you have a praise kink,” You joke. Though judging by the immediate blush that blooms across his cheeks and ears, you might’ve just discovered something about your boyfriend. “Oh! You—I didn’t mean it like—”

His lips press against yours before you can finish your sentence as if to deter you from finishing your sentence, and you forget what you were saying in the first place. You’ve found that this is usually the case any time Lando kisses you, any and all previous thoughts disappearing without a trace only to be taken up by one singular thing—him. 

“Get a room, you two!” Samira grumbles, bringing you back to reality. “Happy for you and all, but I’m trying to sleep over here.” 

Right. 

You’d forgotten you were laying right next to her. Evidently Lando has too, because he whines something unintelligible, face hot against your bare skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, giving Lando a pat on the back to make him get off you. He does so, but not without a pout. The quick kiss you press to his shoulder when you pull yourself into an upright position is enough to settle him. 

He tilts his head invitingly, eyes bright now. “Come swim?” 

“Is the water nice?” 

“It’d be nicer if you were in it.” 

“I’m serious, Lando! Is it cold?”

“Guess you’ll just have to jump in and see.” He shrugs, winks at you playfully before ambling away.

You can’t help but admire Lando as he walks away from you, broad shoulders on full display, muscles shifting as he stretches his arms high over his head. Moles dot the expanse of his back, and it makes you want to trace your fingers along his tanned skin like you’re playing connect the dots. 

You’re expecting him to head for the back of the boat, but he goes towards the ladder heading up to the roof of the boat. 

“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You call after him, raising your hand to block the sun shining in your eyes. 

“Jumping off the roof!” 

“Are you serious?” 

“It’s totally safe! I’ve done it before,” Lando reasons, waiting until he reaches the top of the ladder to offer you a smile. Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better about him taking a flying leap from that high. “Wanna give it a go?” 

The words fuck and no teeter at the very tip of your tongue, but he’s grinning so big, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least a little bit intrigued.

Jumping off the roof of a yacht into crystal clear waters isn’t something you’ve ever thought you’d do, but then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you never thought you’d do on this trip. 

“If I die, I’m haunting your ass forever,” You warn. Once you’re up the ladder on your own, you accept his outstretched hand onto the roof as he leads you carefully to the edge, fingers firmly tangled with yours. 

“There’s no one I’d rather be haunted by.” 

He leaps, taking you with him before you can even think of a response, and for a few moments, you feel weightless, falling through the air with nothing but Lando’s hand to ground you. It feels less terrifying and more freeing than you’d thought. 

You squeeze your eyes shut just before you hit the water, keeping them closed as you sink deeper and deeper. Lando’s hand leaves yours, but you don’t panic. You let yourself float, reveling in the quiet of being underwater until you start to feel it in your chest, and only then do you push towards the surface in a flume of bubbles.

The breath of air you inhale once you get above water is refreshing, and you tip your chin towards the sky, taking in the warm sunlight with a sigh. You wipe away the water cascading down your face before paddling back towards the boat, where Lando is sitting with his legs hanging off the back of it, waving at you. 

“What’d you think?” He asks earnestly once he’s pulled you out of the water to sit next to him. 

“That was…exhilarating.” 

“See, I told you it was fun! Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you the world.” 

Somehow, you don’t doubt that. If you’re an example of playing it safe, Lando is the definition of full sending it, impulse and chaos behind a handsome face. 

-------

The day flies by, and before you know it, it’s time to head back to shore. Thankfully, the yacht is well equipped with a shower in the bathroom, so you’re able to freshen up nicely when the time comes.

Lando lets out a low whistle when you emerge back out onto the deck, eyes dragging down your whole body, drinking in the sight of you with his lower lip tugged between his teeth. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, makes your cheeks flame hot. 

“Damn, you’re hot, girl!” He grins, winking at you. 

“Stop it,” You huff, adjusting the strap of your heel. 

“What? It’s true! Can’t I pay my hot girlfriend a compliment?” He argues, looking absolutely giddy. “C’mon, give me a spin.” You roll your eyes but oblige, and he whistles again. “My god, I’m a lucky guy.” 

“You’re so ridiculous,” You chuckle, letting yourself be tucked under his arm as you make your way to join the rest of your friends.  

“If ridiculous means obsessed with you, then yes, I am ridiculous.” 

The place is only a stone’s throw away from the public beach near the marina and already bouncing when you get there. You’re expecting to fold into the crowd of people, but Lando skirts around it, heading for the very front of the giant area, towards the DJ box. 

Maren’s hand clamps around your arm, squeezing tightly. “That’s Martin fucking Garrix!” She hisses, jutting her chin towards the stage aggressively. “You didn’t tell us Lando’s friend Martin was Martin fucking Garrix!” 

“He didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know?!” is all you can utter back in response. 

You’re just as taken by surprise as she is. You’d have never expected Lando’s friend Martin to be Martin Garrix. It’s not a connection you would’ve made at all, but you keep forgetting Lando is actually famous. Of course he has famous friends. 

Martin gestures for one of the other people there to take over the set, swapping out to come say hello as soon as he spots Lando. Both boys sport identical massive smiles. 

“Mate, it is good to see you again,” He says earnestly, bringing Lando into a tight hug. “I’ve been meaning to make it out to a race! You look great out there, though.” 

Lando shrugs, enthusiasm flickering a little at the mention of work, but only for a split second. “Could be doing better, but yeah, cheers!” 

Martin’s eyes flick over to you and he must get the sense that you’re a little nervous, because his smile turns more polite. “See you’ve made some new friends. Nice to meet you all, I’m Martin.” Then he notices how Lando’s moved closer to be next to you and you’re sure he’s already got things figured out. “Enjoy the set! I’m sure Lando will take good care of you.” 

A few drinks in your system helps relax the knot of nerves sitting on your chest a significant amount, enough so to where you’ve actually started to enjoy yourself. 

Lando’s hands slide around your waist from behind to sit at your hips, chest pressed up against your back as his chin drops down to nestle in the crook of your neck. He moves with the beat and you find yourself following, guided by his firm grip.

It’s so easy to get lost in him. You want to let yourself get lost in him, let yourself sink back into him and let your inhibitions free. But you can’t. 

Anyone can see you right now, seeing as you’re not exactly in a private place. You’re tucked off to the side, partially obscured by Martin’s booth and entourage, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take a good look and recognize Lando, even with the smoke and flashing lights. 

It’s risky to stay like this, and you want to tell him that, but then his lips press against the skin of your shoulder tenderly and your brain nearly short circuits. Heat blooms where he kisses you, traveling up to your cheeks and down to your toes like you've just been standing too close to a flickering fire. 

It isn’t until his nose nudges in right behind your ear, and his warm breath fans across your heated skin, that you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. The loud music dulls down into background noise to the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Taking a shuddering inhale, you wriggle free of Lando’s grip, mumbling something to him about needing air as best you can and taking off before he can figure out what’s happening. 

You squeeze through the crowd rather forcefully, just needing to get somewhere without people, somewhere quiet where you can catch your breath and calm yourself down. 

Somehow you find yourself back at the beach, throwing yourself down onto a bench and burying your face into your hands with a frustrated, strangled groan. 

You don’t even know what’s wrong. Everything is good—you’re with your best friends, with Lando, and you’re supposed to be having fun. So why do you feel like you’re not supposed to be here? 

The answer is a mystery even to you. 

Watching the gentle waves lap over the shore proves rather soothing, a repetitive back and forth that helps ease your mind just the slightest bit. Only a few people mill around at this time of night, and they pay you no notice. You’re free to drown in your own thoughts without any of them being any the wiser. 

Footsteps approach some time later. How long, you’re not exactly sure—wallowing in your own self pity feels timeless. The tips of a familiar pair of trainers step into your field of vision, and you make yourself let your gaze follow up to see the extremely concerned face of their owner. 

Lando doesn’t say anything when you meet his eyes, just holds out his hand for you to take. When all you do is blink at him, then he speaks. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” He tilts his head over his shoulder, towards the beach behind him. 

“I can’t walk on sand in these heels,” You sniff, scowling a little bit. It’s a shit excuse, you know that, but you don’t feel like being very cooperative right now. 

“I’ll hold them,” He replies, toeing off his own shoes first. You give in almost too easily, slipping off yours to give to him and accepting his other hand up. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, tugging you closer to him as you step into the sand.

You walk along the shore for a while before either of you feel like saying anything, and it’s him who speaks first. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks gently. Rather than saying anything, you press your lips together. “C’mon, will you talk to me? Please?” His voice is so soft, so full of genuine concern for you it makes you start to feel bad. “I think it’ll make you feel better, instead of holding everything in.” 

“All of this—the jet, the yacht, everything—it’s a lot to take in,” You admit quietly, staring hard at the sand in front of you. “And I know you did it for me, so I’d feel comfortable, and I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to these things. But I…this is all completely new for me. Like, I can’t help but feel like such an outsider.”

Lando’s expression crumples. “Oh. I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t my intention. To make you feel like you don’t belong.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“This sounds like the start of a romcom breakup scene,” He says, then he freezes, brows furrowing. “Wait, is this—” 

“No! No, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just…saying things.” 

“Okay.” He nods, looking thoughtful. “How can I fix this, how can I help with what you’re feeling?” 

You smile at him, grateful that he’s asking even though there isn’t anything for him to do about how you’re feeling. Putting it out there is already starting to help, actually. You were scared about your thoughts and feelings being cast aside, but Lando hasn’t done that. He’s nothing but kind and caring about it. About you. 

“I’m fine, Lando. Thank you though, you’re sweet,” You assure him, kissing his cheek. “Mind if we walk a little longer before going back to Martin’s set?” 

“We don’t have to go back,” He suggests. “We can stay here, go somewhere else, anything you want.” 

“I want to go back. It’ll be fun,” You say, nodding firmly. The action is meant to reassure yourself more so than Lando, but he’s the one who looks wary. 

His head cocks to the side, brows furrowing in gentle caution. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive. I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

-------

The jet is quiet on the way back to Greece after Martin’s gig lets out, with good reason. It’s late at night, bordering on very early morning, and everyone’s asleep except you and Max, who’s on the phone with his girlfriend.

Judging by the way Lando immediately found his way into your space as soon as you all settled in for the flight and promptly conked out not five minutes later, he's exhausted. 

You glance down at the boy currently snoozing away curled up with his head in your lap, one of your hands clutched between both of his. His chest rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones. 

Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been as content with someone as you are now with Lando. Even though things between you are still new, you feel like you really can be yourself without judgement around him too. And that talk you’d had at the beach has definitely lifted the weight off your shoulders a good amount.

Still, there’s something else you have to get off your chest. You turn your gaze on the only other person you can talk to right now, the one person you do want to talk to. 

Max ends his call shortly after with a quiet love you, see you soon, catching your eye with a sheepish smile as he sets the phone down on the table. “Pietra says hi. She’s looking forward to meeting you guys when she flies in.” 

“We’re excited to meet her too, she sounds amazing.” 

“Yeah, she is,” Max sighs. Then he squints at you, like he knows something is amiss. “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” 

You nod carefully, absentmindedly winding one of Lando’s springy curls around your finger. He exhales a little harder in his sleep when you let it bounce back into place but doesn’t wake up, just snuggles deeper into you. “It’s kind of a weird thing to bring up, but I feel like I have to ask.” 

“Anything, go ahead. We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s actually reassuring to know that Max’s opinion on you hasn’t changed since you’d gotten together with his best friend. You’re still friends just the same. That thought helps you muster up the courage to say what’s been weighing on you. 

“Are you okay with us? Lando and I, I mean.” 

You aren’t seeking his approval or anything, you just want him to be okay with the two of you. Or maybe you are, you’re not really sure. Max is Lando’s best friend, his brother. Other than Lando’s family, who you can't even think about meeting one day without your stomach churning, he's the person who's known Lando best since they were kids. 

All these people, they’re everything to him, and it's important for you to know where they stand. 

Max smiles warmly, says your name in that same soft, gentle way Lando always does when you get unsure. “You’re exactly the kind of person Lando needs in his life. Someone away from everything he’s got going on, someone who genuinely cares for him the way you do. You’re perfect for each other, and I hope you know that.”

You swallow the lump rising in your throat, smiling at Max through eyes glossy with welled up tears. His blessing brings you comfort, even if you weren't looking for it. “Thank you.” 

“No, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.” 

Your brows furrow, head tilting curiously to the side as to what he means. “Me? What did I do?” 

“I know Lando’s filled you in about what’s been going on, so you know that he’s had a bit of a rough time lately.” Max says softly, clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotional thickness in his tone. You can tell how much Max really loves and cares for Lando. “He’s not been himself for a while, so this summer break, this trip, it was something that might help him leave it all behind. Just relax and find himself again, ‘cause it wasn’t good for him, bottling it all up like he was.” 

Your heart aches for Lando. You can’t help but want to protect him. It was true when you’d been just friends and only grown truer since. 

“I wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but then we met you, and I swear to god I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages. He’s been so happy, so in love, it’s been—shit, I don’t even know what else I can say other than thank you. You’ve made my best mate himself again, and…I think I owe you everything for that.” 

You know there are other parts of his sentence that you should be paying attention to—being the reason Lando feels like himself again, making him happy—but only one thing echoes at the very forefront of your brain. “He’s in love with me?” 

Max’s eyes widen almost comically at the realization of what he’s just done. The juxtaposition of the heartfelt conversation you’ve had up until this point with the sudden exaggerated panic in his eyes would’ve cracked you up had you not been stunned by what he’d just let loose. “I really need to learn how to keep my fucking mouth shut.” 

“Lando told you he was in love with me?” You press. You’d kick him under the table, but then you’d risk waking up the subject of your conversation. Max just blinks at you, probably trying to figure out a way out of this. “Max.” 

“Fuck, fine! Yeah, he told me.” You raise an expectant brow for him to elaborate. “Jesus, did you want a timestamp? He said, I think I’m falling in love with her.” 

“He thinks?” 

“Well, I don’t know! I’m not a mind reader, am I?” He huffs. Upon seeing your brows furrow, he sighs. “But if I could read his mind, I’d say yes. I’ve known Lando…shit, I dunno, ten years now? And I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else before. You’re special to him.” 

“He’s special to me too,” You say softly, stroking a thumb over Lando’s knuckles gently. It should feel strange how much you feel for this boy and how strong those feelings are, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It feels exactly right. 

“I feel obligated to give you the usual ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you’ bit, but I know you won’t. You’ve been a great friend these last couple weeks, and I trust you with him. I trust that you’ll love him as much as he loves you. You do, don’t you?” 

You sigh, chuckling softly. “Figured out that one easily too, haven’t you?” 

“Please, I’ve known since the day you lot came round ours for the barbeque. And both of you are shit at hiding things, by the way. You’d be terrible spies.” 

“Thanks, Max. Seriously.” 

“For calling you a crappy liar? You’re welcome, I guess?” He’s only joking, but you know he knows what you mean. Max is a really good guy, a really good friend, both to you and to Lando. “And if he ever hurts you, loop me in. I’ll give him a proper beating for hurting my friend.” 

“Oh, I will. Avoid the face though, I kinda like it.” 

Max snorts, shaking his head playfully. “Yeah, he’s got a nice mug, that one. Real moneymaker.”

The moneymaker is drooling a little bit with his cheek smushed up against your leg, but you pay it no mind. He still looks good. 

He’s actually starting to look like your whole world, all wrapped up into one perfectly flawed human being. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

[achilles-rage]

hiiii hope im not to late to your prompt party.

how about “tracing a finger across your lover’s scar” and “kissing your lovers forehead or knuckles” for Buck

because I’m a cool lightning strike scar truther 🫙

yess i’m so glad i got a fluffy prompt request!! i was expecting mostly smut ones, so i love this!! this is also an idea i've had for a while, but never got around to writing, so i'm glad i finally got to write it!! also, i know these scars wouldn’t last that long, but just pretend<3

"tracing a finger across your lover's scar" and "kissing your lovers forehead or knuckles" from this post

you still remember the night there was a knock on your door. you weren’t expecting anyone, which was the first red flag, but when you looked through the peephole and saw the familiar fabric of an lafd uniform, you knew something was terribly wrong. 

you could barely look at buck shirtless for weeks; the lightning scars across his torso too painful of a reminder of when you saw him in the hospital. of when his heart stopped. 

3 minutes and 17 seconds.

when buck had finally noticed what you were doing; turning the a/c up so it was too cold for him to sleep shirtless, and always coming up with excuses to either of you taking off clothes during sex, he finally pieced everything together.

“baby, what’s going on? why don’t you want to see me anymore?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest as he stands in front of you in your shared bedroom.

you blink slowly, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you take in his hurt expression. you don’t want to tell him the truth, you don’t want to make it into a big deal. and you especially don’t want to face that he had died. not again.

“i can’t look at those scars everyday, buck. it fucking hurts.” you tell him, voice cracking. 

his brows furrow as he studies your face, and then his expression falls, realization dawning on his face.

“what, you think they’re ugly? you don’t think i’m attractive anymore?” you can see the tears in his eyes, and you shake your head quickly, closing the distance between the two of you and cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“oh, baby, no. of course not.” you assure him in a soft voice. you can’t believe yourself; you’ve put your needs completely over his. you didn’t even think of how this would look to him. “it’s just that, all i think about when i see those scars is how you left me. you died, buck, and then you were in a hospital bed, in a coma. you have no idea what that was like for me. for a while, we didn’t even know if you’d even wake up.” 

he lets out a shaky breath as a tear runs down his cheek, nodding slowly at your words. it’s true, he doesn’t know what that was like, and he feels an odd sense of guilt filling his belly.

“i’m sorry. i just thought that-” he whispers, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours as he lets out a long sigh.

you shake your head, smiling sadly as you keep his face right against yours, feeling a tear fall down your own cheek.

“don’t you dare apologize. i’m sorry. i didn’t think about how you’d take what i was doing. your scars aren’t ugly. at all. you’re still you, and you’re still as handsome as you were without your scars, i promise. it was only ever about the memories attached to those scars.” you tell him, voice firm enough for him to believe you, yet soft enough to know that you’re not upset in any way. 

you feel him nod against your forehead, and you finally pull back from him and place a kiss on his forehead, lips lingering on his skin for a second or two longer than normal.

“i love you.” you whisper when you pull back, smile softly as you see the sadness and uncertainty melting from his features. “now take off your shirt.”

he raises a brow, a glimpse of his usual self coming back as he smirks down at you and places his hands on your hips.

“are you trying to get me naked, pretty girl?” he teases, and you laugh softly, shrugging.

“just your shirt, lover boy. wanna see you.” you tell him with a smile, turning him around and pushing him down to sit on the bed. 

he pulls his shirt off quickly, and when it’s off, you’re quick to straddle his lap and push his back down onto the bed. you let your fingers drag across his skin, tracing the patterns of the scar littering his torso. your eyes follow the path of your fingers, touch feather-light as you take in every dark patch of skin. 

buck can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you, eyes darting between your face and your fingers as his hands squeeze your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

when you finally look back up at him, you smile, fingers still pressed against his chest.

“beautiful boy.” you whisper, then lean down and begin to press gentle kisses to his scars, starting at the tips of each lightning strike, then moving up and kissing where each branch of lightning separates from the other, moving in different directions across his tan skin.

he doesn’t know what to do as he relishes in your touch, your attention to his scars feeling so overwhelming and mind numbing. he hadn’t told anyone, but he’s a little insecure about his scars. everyone tells him how cool they look, but he just doesn’t see it. it just reminds him of what happened to him, and what he could’ve lost.but, now, he doesn’t feel bad about them at all, because you like them, and that’s all that matters.

[angelltheninth]

What do you think Sokka, Zuko, Korra, Asami, Bolin and Mako would do as aftercare for their S/O?

Oh! I've written aftercare for Korrasami fics before but never for the other characters.

Pairing: Sokka, Zuko, Korra, Asami Sato, Bolin, Mako x Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, kissing, naked cuddles, praise, scratches, teasing, lipstick marks, eating together

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Yes, the things I wrote in my Korassami fics are transferred in here. I've had these headcanons since I started writing Korrasami fics, I can't let go of them.

SOKKA

Is all about that pillow talk. There might be a humble brag thrown in somewhere in there, but generally speaking he wants to make sure you're okay. He's really tuned into how you talk to him after, he's clinging onto every word you as as hard as he's clinging onto you. Starts to sound a bit sleepy as he rambles on, eventually drifting off to sleep next to you.

ZUKO

Doesn't want to make it sound like he's fishing for compliments and praise but he is. Constantly in fact, during the act and especially after. He likes to know he did good, he might have seen it, felt it, but he wants you to let him know even more. His hand is holding yours while he pulls you next to him and he kisses your forehead, affirming to you that he had a good time too.

KORRA

Would really like to cuddle but not before she fetches food and water for you both. It's really important that you both keep your energies up. You never know if you might want a round 2, or 3, or 4. So it's always good to eat and drink afterwards. She will bite and lick your fingers if you try to feed her anything and if you try to steal her food you'll find yourself pinned against the bed.

ASAMI

Smirks at you as she counts the many lipstick marks she left on your body. Her finger tickling you, making you shiver under her touch and she likes it, she likes how easy it is to tease you, wind you up. Maybe she's doing it purposely, maybe she's just helping you calm down and likes the physical contact. Either way she'll leave at least one mark for you to see when you walk up to the mirror.

BOLIN

Pulls you on top of him and snuggles his face against your neck. Don't tell him about the sweat or any other fluids, he doesn't mind one bit, he wants to cuddle with you now. He always makes you feel safe and appreciated, even if he does get rougher if you ask him for some roleplay, he is an actor after all. But he is also mindful not to hold you too hard, he doesn't want to hurt you.

MAKO

Never admits how much he likes the scratch marks you leave on his back, arms and thighs but you always catch him looking at them in the mirror afterwards. As soon as he notices you're fully awake again he rushes to kiss you deeply, his tongue seeking yours. Usually he's pretty stoic but in bed he's always passionate. He wants to return all the affection you show to him on the regular basis.

[revelboo]

Has anyone told you today you are one of the best blogs to be found this side of the sun? Cause you sure as hell are. Also I cry every time at TFP Starscream being called a "turkey" cause omg he looks like one 😂 (thats also a nickname I got a lot as a kid xD A varient of "goober" lol) Also glad you are starting to upload some of these to Ao3 cause tumblr can be kinda hard to find things on xD especially with longer things. Also as a Optimus lad im falling over myself for you OP stuff, I eat everyting up between Op stuff and eagerly await TFA Op again (whenever you get the vibe to at least)

He’s definitely one of my favorite iterations of Optimus! Still serious, but not as jaded and so burned out, much more willing to smile still

Broken Heart Pt 3

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Always uncomfortable picking up and carrying Sari because of how fragile she is, you're no better. Can feel your heart beating against his servos, but where Sari is bold and fearless, you're less certain and almost timid in his hands. Glancing up at his face again and again as he carries you cradled to his chassis. Do you feel pressured to go with him? Is that it? He hadn't meant to make you feel like you had no choice. "Are you sure you don't need a human medic?" Reaching a servo to touch your forehead and the little cut there, he’s uncomfortably aware of the discolored spots appearing on your skin. Bruises Sari had called them and these are his fault. Unable to protect you from his own hands.

• Shaking your head, you're not sure if it's because he saved you from that other one or if it's his deep, soothing voice, but you feel safe with him. “You saved my life,” tell him, cautiously resting a palm against his chassis when he looks down at you. “I- thank you,” you finish awkwardly, hating how inadequate those words are. He could have saved himself, not risked his own life to try and protect you, a complete stranger not even his own species. He’d been hurt for you. And nothing you do can ever be enough to repay him for that.

• You’re thanking him? Don’t you realize Blitzwing only attacked because of him? If anything, you should hate him. He should be begging you to forgive him for endangering you, but the words fail him when you rest your head against his chassis. And you’re so small in his servos, warm and needing him in a way Sari rarely does with so many other protectors who are better at talking to her. Connecting and understanding her. “You never need to thank me for keeping you safe.” Aware of Bulkhead watching the interaction, he vents softly. Because no matter what he does, there’s always going to be that guilt that you were in danger because of him and he wants so bad to make it right.

• Relaxing into those big hands, exhaustion is all that’s left after the fear and adrenaline slip from you. Just want to curl up and rest. Maybe have a good cry somewhere safe. And even though you have no idea where he’s taking you, you’re strangely sure it is a safe place. That there’s nowhere safer than in his hands. When he approaches the old building, it doesn’t look that impressive as the green one slides open the big hangar style door so they both can duck inside. And then your heart is racing again. There’s more of them, see their optics widen when they spot you before a red and white one hurries over. From somewhere further inside the building, you can smell chili cooking and your stomach growls. “What happened?” The red and white one snarls as the big, green alien heads deeper into the building and you hear him talking to someone, saying, “You came back.”

• “The Decepticons happened,” he says, attention sliding from Ratchet to you as you try to hide your face against him as if uneasy with the other’s curiosity. “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he adds, trying to reassure you as you glance up at him. Looking to him for protection and it spreads warm through his spark. Wants to be worthy of your trust, to be your protector to make up for endangering you to begin with. Shifting you against him, he introduces himself and his fellow Autobots, smiling when you softly offer your own name.

Previous

[eusuntgratie]

as a certified mom(tm), what's the most common thing people get wrong when they write children?

ooooh i love this question! (adding certified mom to the resume STAT btw)

i think the MOST common thing people get wrong is the realistic development/representation of a child at a certain age. i see lots of fic where a three year old is speaking in full sentences, where an eight year old baby-talks all the time, where a six year old has literally no concept of what is happening in their life. i saw a good tumblr post that was a great resource for writing kids by age that i'll see if i can find. but with how many moms are on tumblr, i think just asking them... how would a five year old talk? or how would a ten year old handle this type of situation? would be a great start.

there are other things that are always jarring for me as a parent that someone who doesn't spend a lot of time with kids might not notice or care about.

the first is that your (young) kids are ALWAYS around. you are literally always responsible for where your kid is and what they are doing. if they aren't with you, you've made a plan for where they are, how they'll get there, when you'll pick them up, etc. there are exceptions of course (people living on huge pieces of land or in neighborhoods where they know everyone are more likely to have their kids running around and might not know exactly where they are, some people have multigenerational households and have a lot of help). but even in those cases, the parent still knows and is responsible for that kid. there's nothing wrong with writing a kidfic that isn't realistic just bc its cute or you like the trope. but as a parent its jarring as hell to have a character introduced as a parent (especially a single parent!) and then the kid is never around. i promise you that man is not fuckin' or going on dates as much as you want him to be 🤣 or if he is, it took a LOT of work or he has a LOT of support.

related to this, every parent i know is exhausted. if their love interest isn't attracted to their eye bags or letting them sleep instead of waking them up for sex, get outta my face. the sexiest thing a partner could do for a parent? LET THEM SLEEP.

related, we do fuck with kids in the house. (cough cough chris going on sleepovers 3x/week in fic 🤣). its okay. you can make keeping quiet sexy. you can lock the door so you'll hear it if they need something without traumatizing them. you can use a baby monitor to keep an eye or ear out. we don't wait until our kids leave to have sex, or some of us would hardly ever have sex.

a few random notes and i'll wrap up. kids aren't (and shouldn't be put in the position to be) solving their parents problems for them. most kids won't immediately trust a new adult, especially if that person is dating their parent and their other parent is still in their life, even if they really like that person. a parent would not leave their child with their brand new love interest unless they had literally no other option. i have some issues, but there are very few people i trust to be alone with my kid. someone i don't know well would never make it onto that list.

lastly, parents fuck up. we aren't perfect. i try really really hard to break generational shit, to do better, to be a good mom. i've read lots of books, done tons of therapy, found great resources, done parenting groups, i consult with other parent friends and friends who work in mental health about challenging situations. and i fuck up all the time. kids, even great kids, are little assholes sometimes. nobody's perfect, and that's okay. nobody's kid is a perfect little angel 24/7 and nobody is a perfect parent.

my askbox is always open and i always love to talk about writing! thanks for this it was a fun question to answer <3

[hungharrington]

i need your help i’ve been having too many thoughts about sneaky fucking with steve and I don’t know what to do with them… I trust you with the job soldier

bestie ur so in luck cos i literally just wrote sneaky fucking the other week over here - but it’s a bitta mean!steve so if it doesn’t scratch the itch…. u just come on back n lemme know, yeah? 🫡 soldier

[minnies-puppydoll]

OT8 SKZ Headcannons:

.• {how they orgasm}•.

OT8 x reader HCS..smutty, kinda fluffy

Warnings: degredation, breeding, mentions of choking/slapping, reader is called a bitch, lots of cum obviously, if i missed any lmk!

first post!! lmk how u feel abt it and send me asks!! :3 enjoy~*

smut below the cut….

Christopher Bahng:

• straight to his core. loud, strangled noises spill from his mouth as he ruts into you like a desperate dog.

• grips onto whatever he can grab on you. especially when his orgasm takes him by suprise, hes gasping and frantically finding your wrist to hold so he can ride it out.

• during, he’ll lean down and send a growlish-moan to your ear, in a “you did this to me.” way😵‍💫

• his cock definetly throbs, if he pulls out, all you can see is it bobbing up and down and shooting out hot cum.

• he’s dazed afterwards, looking at his mess with half-lidded eyes as he smears it with his thumb.

• hits him more forcefully than sensually, like a pent up release. and trust, if you choke or slap him while he’s cumming then he’ll roll his eyes back and cum 10x harder.

• same for if he’s cumming from your strap, then its all broken whines and drooly pillows from there.

• im a firm believer of breeding kink chan. he’ll press down on your tummy so you can’t miss the feeling of his warm cum swelling you up.

“ahn- fucking..feel that? good whores get bred out, right? thats fucking right..made me cum, sweet girl..”

Lee Minho:

• sooooooo long.

• his dancer core makes his orgasms last forever.

• you’ll be done touching him, and a minute later his cock is still throbbing and squirting out little droplets of cum.

• usually has deeper, longer moans throughout. but when it first hits, he lets out a loud, pornographic noise akin to a yell.

•his head lowers and his face is pained and focused. hands trembling slightly at how hard it hits him.

• makes the prettiest faces during it. all pleasure dazed, like hes in a trance, or like he can’t believe how intense his orgasm is.

• def an eye roller. his orgasms hit hard, not in a shaking way, but he’ll throw his head back and grip onto you, so he can hold you still while he works through his orgasm.

•when his eyes arent rolled to the back of his head, they are either closed or heavy lidded and unfocused.

• coming back to this, he prefers holding you still while he cums. hes way too sensitive for any extra motion. if you try to move on top of him, he’ll firmly cling onto your shoulders to keep you still.

• always a bit exsausted afterwards, but still laughs in disbelief at how long it really is.

“ah!…stay still. stay fucking still, please. just let me cum…mmfh- fuck..feels so good.”

Seo Changbin:

• goes quiet when he’s about to cum. like its the only thing he can think about.

• 1/3 of moanracha. one of the only ones that moan (but turns kinda growl-ish at the end🤭)

• he knows his strength, so when he cums he tries to either get off of you or relax his body as much as he can. (thats why he prefers you on top)

• sounds in pain but he’s definetly not. he forgets how good you make him feel sometimes.

• a lip-biter, its how he calms himself down, also a throbber!! his hips never stutter though, he’s very good.

• a slut for his neck being touched, bite or kiss on his neck and he’ll cum so good for you.

• like i said earlier, he wants to hold you close so bad! but, he’s nervous he might crush you. so he trains himself for you, softly fucking into you and holding his trembling body back from just holding you down and pounding you.

• soft binnie boy in his dirty talk, his strength doesn’t match his words as he softens his body and starts to cum inside you.

“soft- soft..g’nna fuck you softly, yeah? sweet girl..making me cum..so good to me.”

Hwang Hyunjin:

• 2/3 of moanracha. he moans unashamed, long, sensual noises that have you dripping.

• treats an orgasm like a piece of art, making sure to cum right on your pretty pussy and admire.

• his thighs tremble and his mouth hangs open, pleasure spreading along his body and glowing in his sides, eventually spilling all out onto you, his stunning muse.

• when he’s fucking you, there is nothing in the world that could break his concentration. its like you both have built this sweet atmosphere in the air, heated colors flash in your mind, trapping you with him.

• and when he cums, that atmosphere shatters into a million pieces, like nothing else in the entire world matters besides you and the intense pleasure you’re making him feel.

• he likes when you cum before him, so he can watch your every reaction to his hard work.

• but he likes it even better when you cum with him, he likes sharing the moment with you, so he might even make you hold it.🤭

“…fuck- hold it. i’m almost there, don’t fucking cum yet..fuck! i love you! i love you..so much.”

Han Jisung:

• 3/3 of moanracha. his moans are loud and uncontrollable.

• BIGGEST EYE ROLLER. ive seen him do that shit too many times in videos, im so serious he does that when he cums.

• he also cannot control that tongue of his, shits always out of his mouth while drool drips from his bottom lip.

• he just loves feeling good!! he’ll take anything you give him as long as he gets to cum.

• his poor little cock gets so red. drips a massive amount of precum just to squirt out such a pathetic little load.

• loves teasing his cock after he cums. he’ll rub himself on whatever he can, twitching at the little sparks of harsh pleasure that it grants him.

• says “fuck me” even if he’s topping, such a freaky ass bitch😭

• and if you’re pegging or fingering him, you’ll be suprised at how slutty that little mouth of his is, drooling and babbling out such meaningless little praises and begs.

• grips your wrist and thrusts frantically into you with loud, pathetic whines. his eyes are a bit teary when he places his hand on your tummy, begging you to cum because of how overstimulated he’s getting.

“ah..fuck- fuck me, fuck me harder..shit. ah, please cum- ah..soon. please? s’too much.. i know, im pathetic..m’sorry.”

Lee Felix:

• so sensual. like his orgasm is fire, burning his body so slowly.

• his hips may be frantic, but his voice is shuddery as he whispers pretty words and praises into your ears.

• his face heats up so much its unreal. he cant help but blush at how good you make him feel!!

• that deep voice in your ear😵‍💫 makes u wanna be silent so you can hear him better.

• small load, nothing too much, but it tastes so sweet. you beg him to cum on your face or in your mouth, he feels a little bad but he can’t hold it when he sees you stick your tongue out while he jerks his cock off.

• likes recieving pain when he cums, like scratching his thighs or biting down on his shoulders. it embarrasses him but also makes him drool🫶🏽

• okay fr guys..i think felix can squirt. HEAR ME OUT.

• rub the palm of your hand over his tip rapidly, or agressively rub his slit and he’s writhing and arching under you. gripping your wrist and begging you to slow down before he hides his face and squirts all over his tummy.

• he’s such a pleaser, that he’s unable to focus soley on his pleasure. so if he accidentally cums before you, he’ll pull out and mutter little apologies as he rubs your clit, ruining his own orgasm while shoving his face in your neck.

“..ah! fuck! sorry��m’sorry..hah- so sorry, angel..please cum- please cum too?”

Kim Seungmin:

• when he's subbing, he's a desperate humper. wether its your shoe, or your hand, or even your belongings hes frantically fucking into it, trying to cum hard.

• but the way he cums is still the same, no matter what role he's playing.

• it looks earth shattering. he twitches and shakes, and his eyes are tightly shut (when they arent rolled back to his brain)

• he tries to have you lock eyes with him when he cums, but it always ends up with him breaking it almost immediately.

• prefers to cum on your lower back or tummy, but he's a bit of a clean freak so this preference doesn't help him at all😭

• very dazed and tender after. he'll look at you with loving eyes and caress your cheek, kinda like the sweet version of chan's "you did this to me" attitude.

• he used to be very shy about the way he acted when he came, so he would hold it in, but once you tried to forced one out of him anyway. poor boy was begging you to "wait" and "stop," but his body betrayed him and twitched into your hand.

"mm'ah! wait! stopstop' please- ill cum! please."

(or..dom ver bc im a slut 😈)

"oh? fine..make me cum then, bitch..c'mon- oh fuck..that's a good girl. only thing you're good for, right slut?”

Yang Jeongin:

• doesn’t hit him quite as hard as the others, now that doesn’t mean its not enjoyable for him.

• it just means that his buildup is stronger than his orgasm, it comes in blissful waves rather than the others.

• when it hits, his jaw drops and his eyes close, but soon after 4 seconds of that, hes giggling about it and using it to give you more pleasure.

• big ass load. he cums so much its not funny. he likes cumming in you too, so good luck with that!

• whispers long, teasing groans in your ear to feel you squeeze around him.

•he enjoys fucking more than the actual climax, so he’ll usually hold his orgasm off until you’re begging him to cum.

• then, he’ll tilt his head and glide his cock along your clit with the same pace, like he never stopped fucking you. laughing at your cries and pleads.

“hm..aw, poor baby..want my cum? need my cum inside you? hm..ill think about it.”

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[nochepsicodelica]

Even more bear boyfriend Toji thoughts, because when is he not on the mind?

Naps, naps, naps, and more naps. He drags you into naps with him all the time. If he's going to nap, you best believe you're taking a nap too. He uses very little of his strength when it comes to holding you because he doesn't want to crush you or make you uncomfortable, but sometimes you try and fight your way out of his arms because you don't want to take a nap. You're not tired, but he is, and it's truly not his fault he grew accustomed to holding you whenever he's sleeping. It's become a habit now and he can't sleep at all without you around. Moments when you don't want to nap are when he does have to hold onto you a little tighter so that you tire yourself out as you try to free yourself from his arms. Eventually, you surrender and stop wasting your efforts on something impossible, and Toji lets out a satisfied sigh, before burying his face into the crook of your neck. You fall asleep at three in the afternoon and don't wake up until eight at night sometimes because when you start to stir awake, he hums and coos at you in his sleepy voice. It's always 'Not yet, mama. Still tired...' and 'Stop moving, pretty...' or 'aw, looks like you still need sleep, baby. I'll sleep with you, don't worry...' Supposed naps turn into hours of sleep with him :(

Will pull on your clothes for many reasons. You're on the phone, leaning against the kitchen counter and he's tugging on the back of your shirt to get you to turn around and look at him. You nod at him in question and he just grins before latching onto you from behind, burying his face into your back. If you're adventuring together, walking around and you start to wander off without him, he tugs on the hood of your sweater and brings you back to where he is, making you walk those same steps all over again, this time with him. Sometimes he'll pull down the neckline of your shirt to look at your boobs just because he's a total perv like that.

Size kink who? Size kink Toji. Loves knowing he's bigger and physically stronger than you. He loves when you shove him during a fit of anger, because he's grounded—he doesn't move at all and it pisses you off even more. When you refuse to talk to him after an argument that's gone on for too long (an hour </3) he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You can kick and yell for him to put you down all you want, but he won't put you down until the argument is resolved. He can't have you trying to run off every time you're in a room together. He cages you in with his arms sometimes, when he wants to be all you can see, hear, smell and feel. You should be just as obsessed with him as he is with you. He uses this proximity to steal as many kisses from you as he wants, really taking the opportunity to showcase how small you are compared to him when you can't move from the position he has you in.

He's a total bear even when it comes to his bouts of jealousy. Someone stares at you for more than three seconds and he's quick to block their view of you. He stands beside you, covering you so that the stranger gets a view of his back, instead. If you're standing in line at a restaurant or coffee shop, waiting to order something and someone keeps chatting you up after you've continuously let the conversation die, he steps in. Especially, if he notices that their eyes wander away from yours, to your lips or your chest, wherever. He's not loud about it verbally, but the way he'll just pull you back a few steps into him so he can wrap himself around you screams possession. You laugh off the gesture and finish off your response to the stranger. They don't try to talk to you anymore afterwards because the way Toji stared daggers at them was scary.

Toji constantly reminds you that you're more than enough for him. When you cook for him, when you spoil him in return with things you think he may like. He always loves them because you bought them for him. There are moments when he turns from this ferocious, obsessive, enormous bear, to the smallest, most adorable cub. He's a little more quiet, but his eyes are just as expressive. He stays in one spot for a while even if you're not there. He doesn't go looking for you, he can hear you whistling as you wash dishes, but it's not like he doesn't want you around. He just thinks sometimes. Thinks about how good things are with you—thinks about what he has and he feels like he could be crushed by it all. These are the moments where you step in and make him feel extra loved. You tell him that he's good to you and that he makes you feel safe. You tell him that you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. Up until one of those moments, there was always the dilemma of whether he was a sunrise or a sunset. You finally made your decision. "You're my sunset, baby." You always know just what to say to bring him back. Toji laughed because it made absolutely no sense, but you loved on him after saying it, like it was something real— like it's normal to categorize someone as a sunrise or sunset. Regardless of how dumb it sounds out loud, if he's your sunset, you're his sunrise.

(NSFW Below)

His hands are enormous. His fingers are long and thick and he loves being able to hold you down with just one of his hands while he works his fingers in and out of you. While you squirm and whimper in his lap, embarrassed at the mess you're making on his pants, he simply coos at you, finding the whole thing endearing. You can't control the mess you're making on him. He can, and he doesn't want it to stop. Sometimes, during moments like this where you're all teary eyed in his arms, your body trembling and trying to shrink against him as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you, he wants to hold you so tightly in his arms that you genuinely struggle to breathe or maybe crack a rib. The kisses he presses into the side of your face actually sting at some point because of the way he's so harsh and he's nipping at your skin. He wants to bite your shoulder so hard that he draws blood, he wants to pinch your tummy until his fingers leave marks on it. His bouts of cuteness aggression are no joke.

Loves when you try to take control, always so confident that you can do it, that you can ride him until you both cum. He's not gonna say anything, but he knows how you are, so he just lets it happen. His hands are on your hips, your hands on his chest as you bounce on his dick for as long as you can. You can feel yourself growing tired. Your chest is heaving and your thighs burn from the exertion. Your moans are released into the air through heavy breaths, your eyes twinkling as you realize you're right there. "C-Can't, I can't... so tired..." and Toji just looks up at you with the most lovestruck expression, a tint of pink dusted on his cheeks. You're adorable. "That's okay, mama. Let me." And he lays you onto your back, before finishing you off and finishing himself off. He cradles you afterward like you're something temporary that he doesn't want to let go of and you both end up falling asleep.

Sighhh Toji is a total bear boyfriend </3

[clockmax]

CRAZY, SEXY, HOT !

JJK MEN AND THEIR PUSSY EATING HABITS

! FT toji, sukuna, geto, gojo, choso

WARNINGS: this is all just freaky. dumbification, dry humping, fingering, overstimulation, yea you get the point here.

A/N: LMAOO freakbob milk server saw during gojos part he just started playing on his laptop mid-eating you out. anyways. im gonna make a pt2 for this. MDNI. 18+ pls leave requests or just spam my inbox i wanna talk to you guys!!

Toji

He’s the nasty type with it. Like a freaky type. Toji’s the kind to eat you out from the back, making sure your pretty lil’ ass is up in the air when he's got your face pressed down, tongue licking up long stripes against your folds, collecting your juices before spreading them all over your pussy.

He’ll bury himself between your thighs from behind, hands firmly planted on your ass to spread it open, getting the most out of your cunt. He makes sure it’s nice n out there, teasing you before he’s eating you out in no time. ANd when he eats, he eats.

FInger rubbing on your swollen, throbbing clit as he tongue fucks you, letting out groans from just how good your juices taste coating his tongue and lips like that.

He knows he’s overstimulating you, rubbing your clit through each orgasm that rips through you, but he just keeps going. 

“ C’mon, pretty girl, just one more f’r me. Doin so good for me, let me j’st finish my meal, baby.” Which promptly turns into him eating you out for nearly another hour. Tongue flat as he drags it up and down, paying extra attention to your clit; sucking it as his fingers replace where his tongue once was inside of you, tongue flicking the bed up and down, just until he’s got you moaning into another orgasm.

Toji who loves how your thighs start shaking with each orgasm, each teasing movement, each assault done on your poor pussy. He’s practically  dazed with how delicious your cunt is to him, talk about a free meal for him.

Sukuna

Lowkey mean with it. I mean it’s not that he’s too harsh, but he will literally overstimulate you to no end.

He’s not focused on  how much you’re cumming, but rather satisfying himself by enjoying how sweet you taste. It’s like watching a starved man, he wont lwt up until he decides he’s satisfied, which could be hours of him between your thighs.

Sometimes he has you on the brink of passing out, sometimes he’ll edge you until you’re nearly crying to cum. 

He gets real handsy when eating you out too. Traveling up your thighs, holding your ass, fondling your breasts, he’s really just teasing you more and more, trying to get you to that breaking point where you start begging.

Maybe hes just a freak, sure. But he eats pussy for his own pleasure. It’s something to keep him busy so he’s not sitting around doing nothing.

If eating you out until you can only think about his tongue against your clit is a past time, he’s more than willing to partake in it. 

Maybe he just wants to see you wiggle around in ecstasy and bliss as he keeps abusing that one spot that has you nearly squirting all over.

Or maybe he’s just mean! :3

Geto

Geto’s a very attentive lover. He doesn't skip a beat when it comes to you. It’s no difference with sex, he might just be even more attentive, putting your pleasure before his.

Especially with eating you out.

He’ll take his time, not too fast or too slow, getting you nice and worked up before he gets himself to the good part.

He’ll make sure you’re wiggling around as he kisses your thighs and rubs your sides, hands going down to cup your ass before pulling you to his face. 

He’s all up on your pussy in no time. He’ll have his tongue buried in you, eyes watching at every single reaction, hands holding your hips to keep him still and let him take his time. 

Or when he moves his tongue out to flatten it against your pussy, moving up and down in long stripes. 

Sometimes he’ll eat you out with his tongue piercing, pressing the metal against your clit. Letting it sit there, the smooth, cold metal reacting with hot, swollen clit. 

He’ll kiss your thighs, praising how beautiful you look as his fingers pump in and out of you, curling up at the right moment to prod against your g-spot, egging you on closer to the edge. 

He’s just so attentive to every reaction and what gets you worked up, using all those little mental notes for each time. He’ll have you moaning his name like a melody in almost no time.

Gojo

Gojo seems like the type of guy to eat you out in the way he knows best, edging you until you're withering and begging to cum.

He loves you, he really does, but he loves the face you make when his tongue is all up on your cunt, watching your eyelashes flutter, pretty nails grabbing at his hair to pull him closer.

Oh but the moment he thinks your about to cum? He pulls away, giving kisses and hickeys to your thighs. He teases the crap out of you for it too.

“So sexy when you’re all pent up like that.” He’ll teased, before diving back to lapping up your juices, tongue parting your folds. He’ll keep his hands pussy, one circling your clit, the other kneading the fat of your ass. 

He loves it especially when he presses his nose against your clit, watching you desperately rub against it for even the slightest friction. Just eating you out and listening to your pleas and moans could get him to pretty much burst in his own pants. His arms hook around your thighs, pressing you closer to him, eyes fluttering with the contact, how much deeper he can get his tongue, prodding it against that spongy spot to make sure you see stars.

And when he does let you cum, he’s fingering you right through it, huffing out air before inhaling, lips shiny with your juices. He really just can’t help himself when it comes to your pussy, it’s like candy for him. 

Choso

Choso does it desperately. I refuse to fight anyone on this. He may be inexperienced, but his enthusiasm makes up for it. Hes almost frantically lapping up at you. Hands feeling all up your thighs and body, eyes shut. 

Choso who moans and whines into your cunt, just so desperate for more of its taste, slightly humping into the sheet for friction. Anytime you’d pull away, he’d look at you. Soaked chin, shiny lips, panting slightly, was the only sight you got before he pulled you back to him, wanting more of your taste.

It’s like he’s trying to attach himself to your cunt, making out with it in such a sloppy manner, drool and juices dripping onto the sheets. He’d lick you through the entire orgasm, letting out moans at how your walls tighten around his tongue, feeling your sweetness gush around. 

Your pussy might just be his favorite treat. Stressful day? Licking your pussy. Bored? Probably licking your pussy. It quickly becomes one of his favorite things, loving each time you moan and praise him, feeling himself get harder than a rock. 

The look of bliss on his face when he’s done making out with your cunt, oh it’s just so beautiful. Panting, lower face drenched, the way his eyes look down at how swollen your cunt is, how sloppy it is after he ripped nth orgasms out of you. He didn’t mean to make that much of a mess, but he really can’t help himself when it’s his new favorite thing.

[vampcubus]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : kyojuro rengoku, tengen uzui & wives, poly obamitsu, tanjiro kamado, inosuke hashibira, zenitsu agatsuma.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, big spoon coded reader cus i said so, wholesome fluff, cuddling n snuggling, polyamory (tengen & obamitsu's parts), kamaboko trio aged up as per usual.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— A teddy bear in the shape of a man and enthusiastic to be used as one! As a Hashira, Kyojuro is often kept away for days and weeks at a time, so he makes the most of every moment you spend together.

— Kyojuro's not happy unless he's got his arms full of his favorite person, so you can expect him to seek you out the moment he arrives home.

— If you’re a civilian and he finds you in the kitchen, he’ll drape himself over you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck and lavishing it with smiling kisses, rugged hands settling on your hips.

— Kyojuro wants to be cuddled to sleep and truly can’t bear to be parted from you, no matter how swelteringly hot it gets in the summer months. And if he has obligations, he tries to wake up a little early so he can have a few minutes of cuddle time with you before he’s whisked away. You don’t even have to be awake for it, he just wants to hold you for a little while <3

— He started out as a big spoon but converted into a little spoon when he discovered what it felt like to be properly held. He’s no more content than he is when he’s got his back pressed to your chest and you’ve curled yourself around his broad frame. 

— He likes it best when you rub his belly when his eyes are too big for his stomach, always easing a bit of the discomfort <3

— Kyojuro is comfy to lay on, with two perfect pillows for you to rest your head on (his pecs <3). His muscles are quite soft when relaxed, and the way his heart stutters when your cheek rests on it is so cute.

— Kyojuro feels safe in your presence so he’s very prone to falling asleep on your shoulder or with his head in your lap. With his workload and inconsistent sleep schedule, he’s often a cuddle session away from nodding off. Particularly so when you start playing with his flaxen hair, it’s like his off-switch 🤭

— He’s a bit of an oversized lapdog and’ll climb into your lap every chance he gets. As far as he’s concerned, that’s his seat. It looks funny to outsiders if he’s bigger than you, but he hardly cares, all too eager to get all comfy in your lap and tell you about his day.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈 & 𝐖𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒

— Big, tough man too cool to cuddle? No sir. Tengen is a touchy lover and raises a brow when you try to sit anywhere other than his lap, like why aren't you in your assigned seat? 🤨

— Pulls you flush against his side every chance he gets, wrapping a heavy arm around your shoulders. You often get a companion wet kiss to the cheek to boot just to see you scrunch your face up and wipe his spit off your cheek >:(

— His wives are just like him– Suma especially who practically hangs off of you with those big doe eyes, clinging onto your arm during outings as a group. Between Tengen and Suma, your hands will never be lonely and you'll certainly never be cold. Those two are space heaters and can't keep their hands off their partners to save their lives.

— Makio is easily flustered by affection but ultimately craves it, even if getting her to admit it is like pulling teeth. A hopeless romantic at heart <3 She’s a big spoon and overheats easily, so she prefers to linger on the edges of the cuddle piles. She’ll smack your thigh if you move around too much with an annoyed grumble. She can be such a meanie sometimes 😔

— Hinatsuru doesn’t mind holding or being held, she just wants to be close to you. Though generally more soft-spoken than Makio, Tengen, and Suma, her affectionate touch translates her love for her partners so clearly. Often rubs soothing circles over your back, rests a comforting hand on your arm, and pets your hair while you cuddle.

— Tengen likes to talk when you cuddle, prattling on about his or your day while rubbing your side or back mindlessly. Most times, he talks you to sleep or vice versa, considering what a busy guy he is before retirement. Sometimes you’ll get caught up in deep conversations about your past lives, silly theories, or ping-pong flirtatious banter until you can barely keep your eyes open.

— Tengen likes it most when you and the wives crawl right on top of him, all to eager to be living furniture for his beautiful spouses while you all gossip and giggle to each other.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 & 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

— Dare I say the clingiest partners ever?

— Obanai hesitates where as Mitsuri openly throws herself into your arms at every opportunity. Just be patient and take things slow and he'll follow Mitsuri's example. It’s a subtle shift, maybe he leans his head on your shoulder to test the waters, unable to meet your eyes. He melts if you wrap an arm around his shoulders and rub his arm, eyelids drooping as he relaxes further against you.

— Mitsuri is a cuddle bug in every sense of the word, like a tiny, purring kitty rubbing its body against your legs when you come near. You swear she chirps like one too, especially when her affections are met with a head pat or tender kiss.

— Obanai won’t say it, but he likes it when he’s in the middle, tucked safely between his two favorite people. The three of you spend many long hours this way, just relaxing in each other's embrace before your obligations call you away from the cuddle puddle– with no shortage of complaints from your lovers (Obanai’s longing wistful look as you go is just as painful as Mitsuri’s whines)

— Their clinginess only worsens as your relationship progresses, I’m afraid 💀 Obanai has a death grip comparable to a boa constrictor, especially when he’s in a deep sleep.

— I have a vivid image in my mind of Mitsuri having to use her insane strength to pry his arms off of you and scooch herself in your place so you can pee in the middle of the night, barely able to stifle her giggles. (Obanai is very much this meme)

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— Touch starved but doesn’t know it, and is also unintentionally touchy. Until he isn’t. Until his touches seem all too intentional, never without meaning.

— Cuddling with you is one of his favorite activities and he’ll even schedule official cuddle time if you let him, so you never go without the comfort of one another’s arms for long. He’ll even decline plans if it’s the wrong time of day…

“Sorry, I’d love to, but it’s almost four and I always cuddle with my partner around that time.”

— And no it’s not negotiable. What if he was late, or missed it and hurt your feelings? No no, he’s far too considerate for that.

— Besides, he misses cuddle time the most when he’s out in the field, miles away from your warm embrace. You can tell he’s missing you in the letters he sends home, commenting about how it “ sure is cold out here,” though the longer he goes without the less subtle he is, rephrasing how he misses you in every paragraph. Can you really blame him? He truly adores you so it’s hard to be away from you :((

— Prefers to be the little spoon but ultimately will be happy no matter how you’re cuddling. (I expand on little spoon Tanjiro in this post <3)

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

— Instinctually touchy and yet so unused to cuddling. Inosuke doesn’t know much about positive affectionate touch so he tends to squirm out of hugs and gets a little anxious when you hold him still too long, much like a dog would. He asks you what you’re doing, voice a little softer than normal, cheeks a little pink beneath his mask.

“Cuddling you?” you reply, equally confused by his reaction as he is to your affection.  “Well stop it. It feels weird,” he huffs, and you comply, albeit a bit disheartened. You can’t help but be curious about his rejection, so you push past the sudden awkwardness of the moment to inquire about it. “Feels weird how?” “I don’t know! It just does!” he snaps defensively, a little frustrated, an emotion you can’t help but mirror. But then you relax, reminding yourself to be understanding. It must show on your face though, because he follows you around until he’s sure you aren’t mad at him. Your understanding nature is something he’s still getting used to as well.

— Take it slow with him if you can help it, form positive associations with touch, and then try again another time and he’ll be more receptive <3 REALLY receptive after a while, like before you know it you’ve got a stage 10 clinger on your hands 😭 

— Especially if you start sleeping together, cus he likes to cover you with his whole body as his way of protecting you while you’re in a vulnerable state.

— However, he will get bitchy if he catches you taking naps without him there to cuddle up to you. Like just say you don’t love him 😔 You’ll wonder why he’s giving you dirty looks and the cold shoulder all day, yeah it’s cus you didn’t immediately come find him to nap. Traitor.

— He associates cuddling with sleep so he’s prone to nodding off, and if you guide his head to rest on your chest and massage his scalp? He’s dead to the world, snoring and everything.

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— You cannot pry this man off of you and I mean it. He was clinging to you before you were even an item, often to your leg, your kimono, your hand, wherever he can reach. If you reciprocate once, he’ll keep coming back for more of it. So touch starved it’s pitiable, and he’s smart enough to know that looking pathetic earns him sympathy.

— That said, he’s taken aback if you initiate cuddling, almost unable to fathom being desired. It’s only then that he gets a little shy, chuckling nervously as you take him into your arms. Doesn’t know what to do with himself.

— Zenitsu isn’t picky about how you cuddle, just that you’re touching in every way possible. Tangles his legs with yours, wriggles as close as humanly possible, and holds your clothing in an iron grip.

— Oftentimes he looks so blissed out when he’s wrapped up in your embrace, eyes half-lidded or drooping with sudden sleepiness. You’re just so comfortable, and comforting, and beautiful and aaaa before he knows it he’s muttering all these things to you.

You awaken slowly to a considerable weight on your chest, squinting with your eyes closed you feel around blindly and find the familiar shape of your husband sprawled out on top of you. You sigh, recognizing his snores and a smile tugs at your lips despite it being tough to breathe. Your palm rests on his back, bunching in the thick fabric of his hoari. Your eyes finally crack open, the morning light illuminating your fully-dressed partner. Must’ve been a long night, you mused to yourself, able to picture a half-asleep Zenitsu stumbling into bed so clearly in your mind. Though even his unconscious alter-ego tended to seek you out. You turn, shifting Zenitsu onto his side. He stirs, but only slightly, immediately tucking his head under your chin with a grunt. “Don’t go,” he murmurs in his sleep, most likely to a dream version of you and a fondness warms your chest. “Stay.”

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) tying your hair up prank ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ tying your hair up in front of them to get their reaction ヾ

boyfriend!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ no actual sex , needy jake , ‎ talks of oral sex wc ・ ‎1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can you please do enha's reactions to their partner doing the "tying my hair up in front of my boyfriend" prank

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung saw you set the camera up, but knowing the both of you often filmed yourselves together he didn’t think anything of it , especially when he saw you reach for the scrunchie on your wrist , he just thought it was about to go down and he was for it. “heeseung can you hand me that charger?” you asked , he was confused. the camera? the scrunchie? but no head. “what’s wrong?” you asked him trying not to laugh. “nothing.” he had a look of suspicion on his face as he passed you the camera. you couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you the camera. “baby you should see your face.” he rolled his eyes with a smirk. “why can’t you ever be serious?” he was about to stand up to get your phone for you when grabbed his wrist. “no keep it there.” now he could tell you were serious, he sat back down. “was this stupid prank just a way of you telling me you wanted to give me head?” he smirked.

“well baby the camera is rolling, how about you show the camera how you suck my dick like a good girl.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

jay is different; he won't take notice of you doing something like tying your hair up, and he didn’t even notice you set the camera up so you’d have to get a little creative. “baby.” setting the camera up , he finally looked up from his laptop. “how can i help you princess.” he genuinely wanted to know what you wanted , he didn’t expect you to tie your hair up , rubbing his thighs. “oh?” he said, assuming what you wanted — but it was completely different. “what do you want to eat?” you held back a laugh , as he turned around in his chair, facing his laptop. “i don’t care.” he grumbled under his breath. “baby.” you laughed spinning his chair around. “don’t be upset.” you pouted , kissing his lips. you were about to reach for your phone when he stopped. “no don’t stop it.” he said caressing your cheek. “how about you make it up to me.” you nodded. “good girl.”

“now get on your knees and suck me off.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake ﹚ .ᐟ

in jakes mind: your hair tied up = he’s about to get head. he didn’t even notice you set the camera up , just you taking the hair tie from your wrist , tying your hair up. he’s like bet — unbuckling his jeans, ready to pull them down. “jake what are you doing?” now he’s confused. “what do you mean?” you try and hold back a laugh, but he’s just staring at you with those puppy eyes. “why are you pulling your jeans down?” now he’s even more confuse. “are you not about to give me head?” you had to force a laugh down. “then why would you tie your hair up.” he pouted , he’s not even embarrassed he’s upset. “jake.” you laughed , pointing to the camera. “stupid camera.” he reached over pushing your phone down bitterly. “jake!” you scolded the boy. “your phone will be fine , i won’t.” he groaned. “im hard now.” you rolled your eyes. “already?”

“well i was already hard but seeing you tying your hair up made it worse.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

he saw you set the camera up and knew you were on some shit; however he allowed you to continue. “hey hoonie.” you sat down on the bed. “hey?” he watched you closely still unsure what you were doing. “it’s so hot.” you said , reaching over his body to the nightstand, grabbing a scrunchie to tie your hair up. your position and the way you sat; all sizes pointed to head, but the camera was saying something else. “you’re the one that said you didn’t want to film our sexual encounters but im not against it.” he said sitting his down , ready for you – but you never came. “well hurry up , we have somewhere to be soon.” you wanted to laugh , but the way he was nonchalant about it sorta made you want to do it. “this was supposed to be a prank.” he stared at you blankly , before speaking. “well then you better turn that camera off.”

“because now im hard as fuck and it’s your fault so fix it.”

©️LUVYENI

[kurooh]

HOW THEY ARE IN BED. [NSFW HCS]

☆ includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, takami keigo.

☆ warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, lots of nsfw

— MIDORIYA IZUKU.

he’s a sweetheart in bed, and outside of it! he loves to call you ‘baby’, and very occasionally, during a slow and soft session, your name or something cheesy yet cute like ‘love dove’

however, he has an extreme breeding kink holy fuck. he will pump you full of cum and beg to stay inside you, just so it won’t drip out. he hasn’t told you yet, but deep inside him, there is a desire to be a father. anyways the idea of breeding you turns him on to the max

missionary + mating press are his favorite positions; both are intimate yet so sexy

as i’ve said before, he is very curious when it comes to trying new things. the second you say something like “zuku, could i try touching your ass?” or “could we experiment with ropes?” he immediately researches all there is to know about that topic, and then returns to you and says yes. there is nothing off limits to him.. see here (except for 3somes tbh)

he eats pussy like a man starved. he’s real sloppy about it too — he will come up from between your legs panting, sucking on his wet fingers, the whole lower half of his face wet completely

— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI.

ass man!! slaps your ass all the time, sometimes during doggy style, he’ll make some very small explosions in his hands and then spank your ass with it

wants to fuck your ass at least 3 times before he dies.

complains when you give him hickeys, but gives you WELTS. they always bruise so horribly it looks like something beyond love bites. if he was jealous over something, he’ll give you a few on your neck, but most often he goes for your belly/waist and thighs

fucks your face and throat during blowjobs. he loves the feeling of you gagging on and/or choking on his cock; by the end of it, your face is streaked with tears and covered in spit. lowkey sexy to think about him using your mouth to get off.. but he always makes you cum hard afterwards

he has no issue fucking you in front of someone else, especially when he’s jealous (usually he contains it but sometimes it eats him alive)

he buys you so many thongs and panties, and when you take them off for sex and they’re wet with your slick, he pockets them and wraps them around his cock to jerk off to you later

— TODOROKI SHŌTŌ.

he cannot contain himself when you take control. when his hands wander while you’re riding him, you’ll grab them and pin them down above his head, or at his sides. every single time, his face glows bright red, and he feels himself get closer

when your tits are out, he always asks if he can lay on them, or play with them. while you’re having sex, he will immediately start sucking on your nipples or pressing his face into your chest. probably has a secret lactation kink

he likes blindfolding you. sho has so many silk ties, and he lets you choose which one you like best, and then he puts it on you. when you’re blindfolded, he kisses every inch of your body, brushes his fingers along the softness of your inner thighs. when he finally makes it to your pussy, he’ll lap at your wetness like he’s in a desert. he lavishes your clit with the best attention, and when you cum, he keeps going. he has a standard for himself: you need to cum 2-3 times before he fucks you

for the longest time, sho thought that women could only cum if they squirted.. he’s fucked you through 4 orgasms, trying to get you to squirt. of course, he forgets about the cum you’ve already sprayed all over his chest, because he didn’t know those were squirts. same thing when eating you out — won’t move at all until you’re gushing. i could see him enjoying water sports tbh

— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

thighs man all the way. eiji is always wrapping your thighs around him, or making you cum hard enough for your thighs to choke him out when he’s eating your pussy. he really likes thigh riding, but it’s hard for him to be patient and let you cum from that without flipping you onto the bed and fucking you

red is his favorite color. he fucks you on your period

very quick to praise you in bed, and he gets shy when you do the same with him. unrelated but he really likes when you tug on or pull his hair. his scalp is definitely an erogenous zone

when you give him handjobs, he loses himself. if you’re not doing it already, he’ll start pulling his own hair; when you give him a hj be sure to suck on his nipples at the same time. eiji gets very loud and desperate. also, he’ll sometimes wrap his hand around yours, and move it faster in his cock. it’s not that it means you’re doing something wrong, he just enjoys the extra closeness and speed

— KAMINARI DENKI.

denki is quick to cum when he fucks you, unless you tell him beforehand you want him to last longer

he enjoys creampies, but prefers quickies with creampies, so his cum can drip out of you and into your underwear. honestly he has a huge cum fixation — he’ll cum inside you and eat you out, use his own cum as lube to keep going even though it makes him start to cry from overstimulation

he enjoys edging, giving/receiving. when you edge him with a handjob or blowjob, he begs you to let him cum, but then switches up when he’s about to, and begs to be edged more. if he’s edging you, he will show no mercy. you have to be crying if you want to cum

blowjob enthusiast! he is so eager to have your mouth on him, and is loud and whiny when it is. he loves when you deepthroat him, and pushes your head down almost every time or tries to fuck your mouth. when he fills up your mouth, he pulls you up and kisses you, moaning when he tastes himself on your tongue. also every time he cums, he gets super cuddly

“just the tip” guy 100%, then it turns into full on fucking, and you walk away with cum dripping out of your swollen pussy

— TAKAMI KEIGO.

he has a few erogenous spots on his wings, which must be touched with care and delicacy because he goes from 1 to 100 when they’re touched. if you tease him, he will push you down and fuck your brain out. sometimes, the right touch at the right moment will turn him into a begging mess

kei is a switch at heart. he’ll always tell you what to do, or do what you tell him. when you take control, he gets flustered but is very happy.

he LOVES face sitting so much. “but what if i hurt you?” “dying with my face in your pussy and you sitting on my face is my dream.” the second you agree, you find yourself slowly lowering yourself down onto his face, not even planning to sit all the way down when he grabs you and yanks you right down onto his tongue. and he’s so messy about it too. his slurping and quiet moans always make your face get hot.

istg deep down he’s always wanted to be a pornstar.. he enjoys filming videos of the both of you having sex, taking pictures of you with his cock in your mouth, etc etc. he really enjoys mirror sex as well. his wings always spread out a bit more when you’re both in front of a mirror

[bi-writes]

anatomy of us (3) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader

type: limited series, part 3 (9.8k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.

series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence (this part contains graphic depictions of gore + murder + minor character death), military criticism, protective!simon, dubcon (but reader does consent), possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+

PART 1 ⏤ PART 2

The mirror betrays you. There’s someone staring back, but it isn’t you. You don’t recognize her. Whoever is there, she’s a traitor. A liar. She stole what used to be your body, and now you can only stare back as she lifts her hands to your face and touches your skin.

It’s warm. Your cheeks are warm to the touch, skin bouncy and firm. When you pull on the apples of your cheeks, they bounce right back, elastic almost. You’re glowing, too. Your skin has never looked so soft, so smooth.

Something’s different.

You bring your hands up and cup your own breasts. When you squeeze, you shudder, realizing how sensitive you are. They ache a little, feel heavier than normal. Your bra feels a little tight, too. Your hands drop and grip the sink firm, and you swallow hard before turning to face the door.

Your body is telling you something. It’s trying to talk to you. It’s natural, you know it is, and it is inevitable, and you shouldn’t hate your omega for it because she can’t help it, but you do. It’s what’s happening to you because you’re off your meds. Your hormones are firing like they never have before, and the voice in your head is starting to talk to you in a way that sounds way too appealing. She’s starting to sound right. You like the way she’s talking to you, especially after…

You haven’t spoken to him yet. You haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a few days, but you don’t think you can sleep next to him for one more night and pretend like you don’t know what it’s like for him to be dick-deep inside of you and satiating the shrill insanity that lives under your skin.

So big. So capable. Isn’t he so strong? I bet he tastes good. Let’s find out.

You open the bathroom door slowly. Simon is sitting there on the bed, phone in his hand. He’s typing, eyes narrowed in thought, and you make the door creak so he knows you’ve come out.

“Everythin’ olright in there?” Simon asks. He doesn’t look up from his phone. You decide to be mean, because you can be. You want to be.

Fuck off, you tell her, try to. All she wants to do is get Simon on his back on that bed.

Can we just suck his dick already? It’s right there.

“What do you care?” You mumble. You go to the closet to pick out something to wear. It’s a Sunday, which means there won’t be much to do today besides relax and eat. Johnny invited you to Mass, which you promptly declined, and you didn’t much feel like spending time with Captain Price or finding out which beta would be underneath Gaz tonight (more than one, would be your guess, but it could’ve been another alpha, too, he doesn’t seem to care as long as he can devour something whole).

You don’t turn around to see Simon’s reaction. Maybe he doesn’t react at all. You grab a pair of jeans and drop your sleep shorts. Ever since Simon had taken you on a roof, you decided it was no use trying to change in the bathroom anymore–he’d seen everything, anyways. You step into the jeans and pull them up, jumping a little to get them over your hips, and just as you’re about to adjust the waist, you feel him come up behind you.

Simon grips both sides of your jeans and hikes them up around your middle. You suck in a breath as he slides his hands around, zipping them up, deft fingers finding the button and fastening them. You huff as he keeps walking, forcing your front flat against the closet doors until he can press his chest up against you from behind.

Remember how good he felt? Let’s do it again. Take them off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. Your omega purrs. She softens your insides. You grip the closet, irritated, but you can’t help the way you bend at the hip and push back into him. He snarls as he puts his hands on your hips, holding you there. You can feel her, pushing against you. It’s getting harder every day to shove her backwards–there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to.

Is that part me? Or are we drifting together?

“Wot does it look like?” Simon murmurs. “I smell you.”

Yes, yes, yes, let him. Take it off. Take them off. Let him have it.

“What did I say before?” You let your arms fall, and you smack his hands off of you. You turn around to glare up at him, grinding your teeth. “Boundaries, Simon. You need to ask for permission.”

“I don’t have to do anythin’,” Simon bites back. “I said some things before, too, didn’t I? Y’r mine.”

Oh, that’s how he wants it to be. You can see it in his eyes, the way his alpha is feeding him lies. Feeding into his ego. He’s got tendrils that are choking him from the inside-out, trying to tell him to be the bigger species, the more dominant figure. Your omega wants to let him, but that isn’t you. Fuck submission–it’s just not your style. You’re a taker, not a giver, and your omega will need to learn that the hard way.

You lean up on your toes, pressing your forehead to his. You meet his alpha in the middle, not backing down. You can be nasty, too. You can be dangerous. You might not have his build nor his strength, but omegas have teeth, and they are sharp.

“Then you better sleep with one fucking eye open, Simon. Cause I’ll kill you if you put your hands on me without asking.”

You make sure you hit him on your way around him. You open the drawers of the dresser angrily, ripping a shirt out. You slip your pajama shirt off, tossing it onto the floor, and you fit your bra straps over your shoulder before turning around. Simon is still staring like a dog–eyes watery and intense, staring right at your tits, and you grab a pillow off the bed and throw it at him.

“Oh my god!” You cry, and he sucks on his teeth under the mask.

“Mmm…” He puts a hand over his chest, rubbing there. If he didn’t have it on, you have a feeling he’d a smug grin on his stupid face. “My mate is fuckin’ naked, wot you want me to do, look away?”

“Yes, exactly, you pig,” you mumble, clasping your bra and fixing it to cover yourself before slipping your t-shirt on. You frown as you pick up a clip to tie up your hair. “And we’re not mates.”

“Tha’ right?”

“That’s right,” you say curtly. You turn to give him a hard stare as you slip your boots on. “As far as anyone else can tell, I’m not claimed.” You run a few fingers over your scent gland. Soft. Unmarked. Pulsing.

It’s like you’re taunting him. He snarls a little at that, something low and territorial under the mask.

“Tha’ wot you want? Me to claim you?”

“No,” you stand on your toes, faces barely touching. The air in the room is humid and thick, curling, competing scents making you a little dizzy. “I want you to drop dead.”

It’s half of a lie. It would be funny, you think, to see Simon eat a bullet or catch on fire and perish in a frenzy of equal pain and misery, but you know Kate would just do it all over again to you. There are no shortage of alphas at her disposal. With a swipe of her signature, she can have you moved halfway across the world again, and you’d like to not end up on the CIA’s bad side because you keep spending all their money on flights and bribes to get you some kind of mate that will tolerate an indifferent omega such as yourself.

An unruly one. A terrible one. A decisive one.

You don’t really want Simon dead. Better the beast you know than the one you don’t, and from the time you’ve spent with Simon, he is all bark, no bite.

For now.

Meals are always awkward. You feel like all you and Simon do is snap at each other lately. Call each other names. Spit nasty insults. Maybe it isn’t fair to be angry with Simon; you have a feeling he didn’t have much of a choice, same as you, but it doesn’t matter, because nothing really changes in his life the way it changes in yours.

Simon isn’t the one that loses himself. Simon isn’t the one that has to wear a brand on himself, a permanent reminder of his submission. Simon isn’t the one that has to succumb to things he can’t control about himself–the heats that last for days, the ones that will burn you from the inside out until it gets that nasty fill that your omega was born for.

Ruts just aren’t the same, you don’t believe it. They can swallow them down. Save them for later. It isn’t a comfortable thing to do, but if an alpha is missing their omega, they can satiate themselves with a lazy hand or a soft mouth until they get what they’re searching for.

Omegas aren’t offered the same luxury. If you don’t get what your omega feeds off of, she might kill you–and you don’t need to be reminded that you and your omega aren’t exactly on great terms.

The boys are quiet at breakfast. John has secluded himself in his office for the day, but Simon’s sergeants are pretty quiet for how much they usually babble. They are, however, shoving their faces in with food in a matter that makes you scowl.

They’re dogs, really. Johnny looks positively famished. He’s got his cheeks pillowed with eggs and toast, and you look away from Gaz as he tips his head back to wash down a mouthful of ham with coffee.

You jump when you feel a fist hit the table. It rattles the trays, and Johnny’s orange juice splatters a little outside of the cup. Simon is back from the kitchen, sliding your own tray in front of you. Your mouth waters a little at the smell of the freshly baked croissant and moka pot of coffee that waits for you, and the sergeants grumble a little as they look up at their lieutenant.

“Would you both fuckin’ eat with y’r fuckin’ mouths closed?” Simon snaps. “Bloody rats eat more proper than you lot.”

“What’s the matter, LT?” Johnny gulps down his food, wiping his mouth with a wet thumb. He smiles at you with teeth, and you pick up your fork to busy yourself. You can see feel his crazy eyes on you, trained on your face. He licks over his teeth as he does. “Want us to be proper gentlemen around yer bonnie girl?” He wiggles his tongue at you. “What’s proper about knotting a pretty little omega like tha’, aye? Can smell ‘er from ‘ere…Smell like taffy.”

Simon takes a seat on the bench next to Johnny. You stare wide-eyed as Simon cocks his head to the side. Your eyes water a little as you see Simon slide a big hand up Johnny’s neck. He leans into it, clearly comfortable (you’re going to try and forget this observation), but his face contorts from contentment to sheer pain as Simon wraps his gloved fingers into the curls of his mohawk and pulls. Johnny’s neck snaps back at a hard angle, making him hiss and kick his legs out. They bang against the table, shaking it, and Gaz looks down at his plate as Simon tugs Johnny close to him.

“You listen ‘ere, Sergeant. I’ll say this once, and I won’t repeat it,” Simon growls. “If I hear you say one more word about my mate’s cunt, I’ll rip your throat out with my own teeth. Don’t care ‘ow many times you’ve covered me or saved my arse on the field. My rank is her rank, so from now on, I want you to drop y’r eyes when she looks at you, and I want you to say, yes, ma’am, and nothin’ else, you ‘ear that?” Johnny grits his teeth as Simon shakes his head violently, holding him firm. “And if I hear about it when I’m not around, I’ll let her cut y’r dick off, yeah? Or maybe I’ll let her shoot you in the head again. And trust me, mate, she won’t miss–”

“Simon,” you interrupt gently. Simon’s face turns, and you meet his eyes. You shake your head a little. “It’s…it’s okay. Johnny’s just a huge flirt, and it came out wrong. Didn’t it, Johnny?”

Simon closes his fist, letting out a sharp breath. His eyes are a little darker than you’re used to. You’re not sure he’ll listen to you, but when you see his fingers start to loosen, you relax a little. You don’t understand why he’s defending you, anyways, but maybe Simon has some twisted moral code when it comes to insulting his mate.

That only he gets to, and no one else.

“Yeah–” Johnny spits, and when Simon lets him go roughly, Johnny just laughs a little. His cheeks are rosy, and he tries to shake it off, but you can tell by the way he averts his eyes and the smell that wafts from him–Johnny is terrified of his lieutenant.

Simon stands, making the table rattle again. Johnny’s cup spills over the edge, and your cutlery falls to the floor as he makes his way out of the mess hall, throwing the doors open and letting them slam shut behind him. You scoff, rolling your eyes, and you swipe Gaz’s fork from his tray before continuing to eat.

“What the fuck is his problem?” You stab your sausage with the fork, cutting it angrily, and Johnny clears his throat. His rubs the back of his neck, rolling it out carefully.

“Yer serious?” Johnny scoffs. “Fuckin’ big man is in love with ye.”

Not me. He’s in love with…her.

“He’s just mad because he thinks he’s the only one entitled to say anything derogatory to me,” you explain. “He’s such an asshole, I swear. So are you, Johnny, by the way–I’m not gonna wet your dick for you, go flirt with someone else.”

Gaz snorts, shaking his head, and you pour him a little more coffee from the pot Simon left for you and some for yourself.

“Kind of sweet, innit?” Gaz murmurs. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. “Has a real funny way of showing it. You don’t see him when we’re alone. He’s mean. I don’t know what goes on in your heads, but your kind jump to conclusions. And you assume. And you’re too aggressive.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Gaz asks. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “That’s how we’re made.”

“I try everyday to be anything but how I’m made,” you say lowly.

It’s a lousy excuse, especially for an operative like him. Kyle and Johnny are no strangers to aversion or high-stakes. There is combat, and then there is what this team does. You’ve peeked at the papers on Simon’s desk. You’ve read the files you have no clearance to read. For the air-headedness that Simon radiates, he’s excellent at writing post-op reports, with fine detail. He doesn’t miss anything. This team isn’t something like SWAT–they don’t carry big guns for show and break down suburban houses. They hit foreign targets without a trace and eliminate threats before they blink. They are in and out of a building in thirty minutes, and they leave no man behind and no target alive. Each of them are experts in their own subject, and even with Johnny’s big, disgusting mouth, you cannot deny what makes him special.

He could make an explosive out of regular kitchen supplies; maybe even out of the toiletries you keep in a go-bag. His affection for chemistry is as equal to that of a good, protein-rich meal. Kyle is no different–you’ve seen him just for fun program an auto-correct feature into John’s laptop that replaced every word that he typed that started with a vowel to shitfucker. You saw him do it remotely. Over Bluetooth. With a Blackberry.

These aren’t just operators. These aren’t just idiot, self-engorged, misogynistic and animalistic men that panted and waited for orders like lovesick puppies, they are much too intelligent and way too self-aware. You won’t take that’s how we’re made as an excuse–it’s beneath them, if you’re being honest, and it’s infuriating. They aren’t a normal pack, and they never will be, and so you need them to stop using stereotypical excuses as reason for them being just like the rest.

It is conscious. It’s disgusting. It’s exactly as you thought it would be.

“Well maybe if ye tried that less, tried just being what ye are…things would be easier for ye,” Johnny mutters, picking up his overturned cup and sighing sharply through his nose. You drop your fork and lean forward on your elbows.

Oh, alright. If Johnny wants to play rank, then you can play rank.

“You know, you both have a lot of nerve,” you say lowly. “I would start being very fucking nice to me from now on. Simon and I may not get along, and maybe we never will. But he sure as shit won’t stand aside if tuck my tail between my legs and blame one of you for something you didn’t do.”

“Thought you said he hated you?” Gaz mocks. “Thought you said he was mean?”

You stand up and shove your tray towards them, starting to walk. You lean over to murmur in Gaz’s ear.

“He is,” you threaten. “But he’s still an alpha, my alpha, and pussy talks, Gaz. You’d know. You’ve been drooling for it since I sat down. I can smell you, too.”

You pat Gaz’s cheek a bit too roughly, and he snarls a little. You smile to yourself as you make your way out, and down the hall, you see a familiar shadow disappear around the corner into the darkness. You cross your arms over your chest, sighing, and then you start towards it.

When you round the corner, he’s standing right there. Leaned against the wall, big arms crossed over his chest. His face twitches under the mask. You move to stand in front of him so you can get his eyes.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to babysit me, you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

“I have others to answer to if something happens to you.”

“Don’t act like you care what other people think. Especially your superiors.” You roll your eyes. You don’t have much more time to talk to him. Or berate him, you were still deciding. A shadow comes up next to you, and when you turn, Captain Price is staring at you both, nodding his head behind him.

“I need to have a word. With both of you.”

You give Simon a look, but he doesn’t give one back. He merely slips a hand down your back and puts you in front of him, ushering you to walk. You’ve never been reprimanded by a superior, not because of a mission or anything of stake, so you can’t help the feeling that overcomes you–something of failure.

Had you done something wrong? Surely you had.

John’s office is bigger than Simon’s, but just as messy. Messier. There’s a pretty beta secretary out in front of it, and she smiles at you and waves. She’s too cute–too sweet. She probably puts sugar in John’s tea to make him smile or draws little smiley faces on messages from missed calls. You pity her and wish you were her all the same. When she notices your solemn face, she shrinks and dips her head, picking up her pen and continuing to fill out some forms.

John waits for both you and Simon to sit before shutting his office door behind him. He sucks on his teeth before tossing his hat onto his desk, nodding towards the two creaky seats in front of him.

“Sit.”

“Rather stand,” Simon counters, but one hard look from his captain, and Simon is begrudgingly taking a seat. The metal creaks under his weight, and you take a seat next to him. John sits on his desk in front of you both, and he looks at Simon before ending on you.

The scents in the air are driving you insane. You take a breath to try and keep your eyes from watering, but it’s difficult.

“You know, Kit, our team isn’t known for…following the rules,” John begins. “But I was assured that…if anything went wrong, that my lieutenant here would be responsible. He vouched for you.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You prepare yourself for the beratement. You sit up a little straighter, squaring your shoulders. The neutral expression your face falls into seems to irk your captain. He scrunches his nose a bit, smoothing a palm over the papers in front of him. He’s trying to establish his air of dominance, but it’s increasingly easy to stare him back down when your alpha sits right beside you.

There’s comfort in his presence, and your omega feeds on it.

“I saw you shoot. Got a good eye for those kinds of things, I’ll admit,” John nods. “And you did well in training. Followed Simon. His orders. Saw you clearin’ rooms like you’ve been on this team for years.” He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Blue, but empty. “He was right. Fast learner. You know your place.” You narrow your eyes at that, and he hums. “But it doesn’t change what this is. What you are.”

You’re surprised at the way your omega curls in your gut. Angry. There’s an alpha insulting you, but this one isn’t yours. She warms your hands, and you dig your nails into your chair to keep her calm. She wants to bite, and she’s confident with Simon at her side.

“An asset?” You try talking instead.

“A liability.” John leans forward. “You put my men in danger. Going into heat like that.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s alienation. You are an outsider. Not part of his pack. John draws a circle around himself, and you are not included in it, and the sentiment leaks into his words like a flood, and it hits you through the chest. Your lip trembles just slightly, but you swallow down the rejection, keeping it close. Your omega whimpers–an alpha, though it is not your own, is isolating you, and it hurts her.

“She didn’t–” Simon is interrupted by John’s laughter.

“You were off comms for 15 minutes and 37 seconds, an amount of time that during an op is fucking critical and could’ve blown the entire operation!” John snaps. “I told you to be fucking careful, I told you both to take precautions, and you failed me. I can understand you–” He points at you, and omega lingers unsaid, “but you, Simon? You–”

“It wasn’t his fault, it was mine,” you interrupt. “I should’ve known.”

“He’s your alpha, it’s his fuckin’ job,” John clarifies. “But Simon has more than one job, and on that day, it was keeping the target in his sight and waiting for my fuckin’ say.”

“Don’t reprimand him for making the call,” you tell him. “I’m the one who misread what I was feeling. I’m the one who distracted him from what he was doing. I’m the one who was projecting so badly, he had to help. It’s me. I screwed up. I’m just as much of your team as they are, so hold me accountable, not Simon.”

“You are not on my team, you are my problem.”

She wails. She grips your heart in both hands and hangs on, crying, wailing, begging you to say something to make him approve of you. She so desperately wants to be included in Simon’s pack, and it aches inside to be pushed away. You dig your nails in further, and you don’t realize how much your scent is flaring. Simon gets one whiff of it and snarls. His hands close into fists.

You goin’ to let tha’ wanker talk to your mate tha’ way? You goin’ to let another alpha walk all over her? He’s challenging you, tha’s wot this is, innit?

“Choose y’r next words wisely, Captain.” Simon finally speaks, and his tone rattles you. His voice dips low, and you can hear his alpha soaking into his words, and the bitterness in the air has to be him deciding whether or not today would be a good day to stand up to his captain.

“Tha’ right, Simon?” John murmurs. “Is that an order?”

Simon stands. Immediately, the humidity in the room expands, and you nearly choke from the sting of their scents in the air. Simon is much larger than John. He’s so much bigger, so much wider. You stand, too, and when Simon feels your hand along his bicep, his shoulders loosen just an inch.

Your omega may beg for approval and inclusion, but even she stands down when you remind her of the importance of pack bonds. You are not mated, and Simon has his own to keep, so you must appease. It hurts to do it, but you know you will thank yourself later.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you say softly. “I-It won’t happen again. I swear…I promise.” Your eyes water, and you try to hold in the cough you’re holding. “First time…and the last time.”

Simon’s task force is a unique group. Four alphas–a lot of ego and fighting dominance in one bunch. It’s normally not done. They like to have a nice mix of betas and alphas to keep groups balanced, but Kate needed an exceptional group, so she built one. Four alphas in one pack is not common, but it works–and she has the stats to prove it.

You wonder if she knew what would happen when she threw you into the mix. How each of them might react when an omega tried to slip in between them. If Kyle would try to sink his teeth in. If Johnny would pass out from panting so fucking hard. If John would let his resolve slip for just long enough to blur the lines between a commanding officer and his subordinate.

Maybe Simon reacted just as she expected. That he would see what was meant just for him and pull her apart so he could slip under her ribs and stay right there. You have not been claimed, and yet–it is truth. They know it, Simon knows it, you know it, and so does your omega.

Simon paces in his room. A slow pace, but paces, and you observe him from your place on the bed as he breathes deeply. His alpha is leaking through the cracks, and you can smell his anger. It fumes, makes your nose curl. It’s a bitter scent. Your omega purrs in your chest–she wants to soothe him.

We will do no such thing. Shut the fuck up.

“You need to let me handle things when we get cornered like tha’.”

“I’m a big girl, Simon,” you say softly. “And it was my mistake.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” Simon explains. “I’m your alpha.”

“I don’t care,” you shake your head. “You don’t speak for me.”

“No, I speak for us both,” Simon points a finger at you, coming closer. “For you and for me, and you need to understand tha’.”

You glare up at him. In all the time you’ve spent with him, he’s still letting his alpha bleed when he’s angry. You need to understand nothing–Simon needs to learn. He needs to learn that the omega they write about in textbooks isn’t reality. You fight your omega tooth and nail for control, and you are still on top for now. Simon needs to learn this. He needs to learn that you are not easily influenced by command. You may smell like an omega. You may keen like an omega.

But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I submit like an omega.

“Fuck you.”

Don’t talk like that…you know you want to.

“Ya already ‘ave, kitty,” Simon spits. “Would you like to go again?”

“I know this is hard for you to get through your thick head,” you whisper. “But just because I fucked you doesn’t mean anything. What happened between us was clinical. Your dick is medicine, and there was nothing I could do, and that is where this ends. You can tell yourself over and over again that you are my mate…that you’re my hero, that you saved me, but maybe next time, I’ll just let my omega kill me. The thought of you inside of me ever again makes me physically fucking sick.”

You’re a bad liar.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say lowly. He leans closer, until his face is nearly against yours. “You’re a pathetic, insecure, waste of space. I will never be your mate, and I pity every omega that might come after me, that has the unfortunate mistake of thinking you could claim them with any sense at all. You use and you abuse, and you have your head so far up your ass, I don’t think you know what’s real and what isn’t.”

Simon stares. You stare back. Your chest heaves, and so does his, and you keep your eyes on each other as you stare back and forth. His eyes are so dark. Beautiful, but so dark, it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking. It’s not long that you notice his lashes fade to blonde at the end of them. His skin, where it bleeds from the eye-black he wears to the pale color of his face, has freckles scattered around the eyes. You can see the raised, white line of a scar that is just peeking from under the mask.

Isn’t he so pretty?

“On your knees,” Simon murmurs.

It’s whiplash. One moment, your entire body is buzzing. Angry, fiery–you can feel it shaking you. You hate him with ever fiber, want to smack the smug look you know he wears under that mask. You hate the power that he has over you and how much he relishes in it. The next moment, in a few slow words, it vanishes.

Like it was never even there at all.

“Excuse me?” You breathe.

“On your knees. Lose the pants. ‘n y’r knickers.”

“What makes you–”

“Won’t ask again.”

We need this. We need this. We need this.

It’s just that easy. For all the resolve that it feels like you have, maybe you really have none. You blink, but then he hears the sound of you toeing off your boots. They hit the floor, and then your cargos are falling on top of them, and then you’re turning over, sliding along the warm sheets of his bed until you’re lying on your tummy, ass up, and you’re closing your eyes as his gloved hands push your panties down your thighs until they’re around your knees.

You don’t really know who’s doing it. You’re afraid to think about it too hard, because you know that it just might be you.

He eats nasty. All tongue. He spreads your ass with big palms, and you gurgle when he kisses your folds with tongue. Your brain starts to fog, and you relax easily. He kisses soft and slow, but wet. You fist the blankets, pushing back, and he slides a thumb down to smooth over your puffy clit very gently. He hisses when he sees your hole flex in response, a drop of slick falling onto his palm.

“Kitty, why didn’t ya just say so?” Simon asks, stupid and fascinated by you. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted y’r pretty pussy kissed, hmm?”

“Because I hate you–” You whine, and Simon slips his tongue inside of you. You babble, your mouth dropping open, and he hums as he gets a taste of you before pulling back, smacking his lips. The taste of you spreads across his tongue, and his alpha howls. He’s never spoken to him this way, not really. The only time his alpha has ever really come to the forefront like this was the times he thought he was close to death; but Simon’s never been this close to life, either.

“I know,” he coos. “I know ya do. But this isn’t personal, is it?” He uses his thumbs to open you up, growling when he sees your hole pucker a little. A dribble of slick falls, and he catches it with his tongue, swallowing it down. “How’d ya put it, luv? ‘s medicine?”

“Your dick is medicine.”

“My mouth, too, I reckon.”

“Shut the fuck up, and eat me, baby,” you whimper, and he opens his mouth wide and licks with a thick tongue. He presses his mouth to your cunt and eats, bobbing his head as he alternates between slobbering licks and eager sucking. His tongue slides between your folds occasionally before slipping into you, and you curl your toes every time he brushes against your clit. His thumb will sometimes circle it, or his tongue will suck softly, but he never stays there too long. Simon likes to tease. He likes to make you a little desperate, likes to get you soft and drippy and dizzy, and then he gives in a little. He gives you two fingers, gloved still, and you push back against his face with gentle grinds as he fucks you softly with his hand. It’s agony and relief all at once.

“Like tha’?” He asks. He sounds amused. You hope his hard cock gets pinched by his zipper.

“Mmm–” You try. You arch your back, getting up onto your elbows, and Simon uses his free hand to give one side of your ass a nice smack, jiggling it gently before kissing where he hit. You giggle at that, soft and airy.

“Answer me, omega.”

“Fucking love it,” you gasp. “Big fingers–”

Simon laughs at that. You can smell his ego, but you don’t have it in you to say something smart. It’s true. Even with his hand, he fucks good, hitting deep. His mouth did wonders, and you’re dripping along his hand. His glove is soaked, and his forearm is wet, and when you glance down at the sheets, they are damp and dark with the mess you made. Simon doesn’t seem to mind. He leans in to eat more, pulling his fingers out so he can use his mouth again, tongue deep as he sucks and hinges that big jaw to get a mouthful of you and groan. You taste good–nice and sweet, thick juices wetting his chin, and he squeezes your ass in appreciation when you throw it back and smother him. He likes this. Likes the lack of air, the wet pussy, the soft whines. He’s content here, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to move anytime soon, and he doesn’t complain. He just opens his mouth and swirls and tongue and fuck–your clit is in his mouth, and you’re crying.

It’s too kind. An alpha kneeling for their mate. Taking pleasure in their pleasure. It’s not unheard of, but it’s…unorthodox. It confuses you. Your omega cries with happiness, but she’s confused, too. She doesn’t expect pleasure just for pleasure–but she wants it, she wants more of it, she’s digging her nails into your skin to try and get you to convince Simon to give you more, more, more.

“Give it to me,” Simon murmurs. “‘s olright. Give it to me.”

“Simon–”

“Mhm,” he nods, cocking his head and taking your clit into his mouth again. “Give it ‘ere.”

Your orgasm hits hard, but it’s nice and slow. Your thighs shake, but Simon sinks into you, breathing out through his nose as he delicately laps at your clit. He doesn’t stop, swallowing as you come into his mouth, keeping the pace to make sure your orgasm fizzles just as good as it hit you.

You sink to your tummy when he pulls away. Your knees give out, and he slips your panties completely off, and you flop onto the dry side of the bed. You start to cry. Not tears of relief, but tears of pain. Of what is inevitable. Of the hard truth that you loathe more than anything.

Simon can never force you. You will always want him, you think. There will always be something in the back of your mind that aches for him, and you try and you try and you try to fight it off, but you want him so viscerally, it cuts you deep where you’ll never notice it.

“Say wotever you want about me,” Simon mutters. “Tell yourself wotever you want that helps you sleep at night, hate me oll you want. But I take care of wot’s mine.” He strokes your hair out of your eyes, leaning down, and you cry harder. You clutch a pillow, hug it tight, and your eyes flutter open as you look at him. His mask is still hiked up just under his nose, and you can see half his face. Scars that cut across him like paintbrush strokes, adding texture and depth where there shouldn’t be.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” you whisper. “You have no idea what it’s like for every single part of yourself to betray what you want. You don’t get it. Y-You don’t understand, you never will. You will always have the upper hand, and y-you will never know what it’s like to not have a choice.”

Simon continues to brush through your hair with his fingers. Soothing you gently, coaxing you into a headspace that feels like white noise. You whine, and Simon comes closer. He presses his mouth to your forehead, soft, gentle, his scent close enough that your beating heart slows down considerably just in response.

“No, I won’t,” Simon agrees. “But that’s what you are. You’re an omega.”

He says it like it’s so simple. Like it explains everything in the entire world. Being an omega is the simplest answer he could ever give, and it explains every variable, every nuance, every quirk that makes you you. It explains every time you sink to your knees for him. It explains how easily you let him fuck you on a rooftop in a foreign country. It explains how even though you hate him with every fiber of your being, there is somehow no one else you want standing over you now.

“I’m still me.”

“No,” Simon shakes his head. “You cannot change wot you are. You’re fighting her, and you will lose.”

You wonder, for just a second, if Simon is speaking from experience. Have there been times when his alpha takes over? Does it take control? Are there times when he looks in the mirror, too, and doesn’t know who is staring back?

“I hate her, too,” you spit. “I hate her, and I hate you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his terrible face. The first one you’ve ever seen. You hate the urge you have to lean forward and kiss it.

“She is you.”

“Then I hate me. I hate myself.”

Simon changes the sheets silently. He picks you up and moves you when he has to–two big, burly arms picking you up like you’re a feather. You cling to his neck, studying him, and you find yourself not being able to look away. He’s so capable. He’s so independent. He’s so reactive to your needs, it infuriates you, how could one man be so in tune with you, more than yourself?

He drapes all new blankets over you. He turns out most of the lights, except for the low glow of the yellow lamp on his desk. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm, and then he bends down to say something to you, in your ear.

“Dunno wot you think,” he tells you, “but there will be no omega after you.” His voice drops low, and when you close your eyes, you hear his alpha. Threatening, affirmative, exact. “You are mine. I’ll not ‘ave another. The sooner you accept tha’, the easier things’ll be for you.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Eat a dick.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Much prefer y’r cunt, kitty.”

Simon’s protection is instinctual. It’s not really a choice, it’s subconscious. He watches you braid your hair in your room, observes as you tuck it behind your ears and tie it off your face. He hovers as you gear up. Watches you buckle your belt, strap your tact vest, adjust your helmet. He comes over after you’ve laced your boots, tugging on your vest to make sure it’s secure and fastening your helmet for you. You let him as you clip your watch on, closing your eyes as he smooths a thumb across your cheek and turns you towards the door.

It’s a long flight. You fall asleep, your face smushed against his arm, and when you wake up, Simon is still sitting there, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead. John smokes, Gaz has a folded up little book in his hand with what seems like sudoku pages, and Johnny is twirling what looks like a fidget spinner in one hand. You blink awake, but it’s dark out, pitch-black.

That’s the job. Dark, where you can use night as cover. Stealth. You and Simon have been tasked with clearing out one building on your own. Several stories, possible targets inside, presumed armed and dangerous. You were given the clear to eliminate any threats on sight–the op is capture or kill, and John made that very clear in a small room that reeked of his authority.

The bird drops you a few kilometers from where your target building lies. You flip the night-vision down, flicking it on, and you stick to Simon like glue as you follow him silently through empty streets. You’re somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere cold and unfeeling and just on the border of Russia. You aren’t privy to any more details; all you know is that your mission is to be Simon’s cover, and you have the face of your target memorized and burned into the back of your eyes.

You spot your target building at the end of the block. The streetlight flickers, and it looks like a low-income apartment building. It’s very small, dilapidated, with a peeling entrance door that has the window broken, hastily patched up with duct tape. It’s no trouble for Simon to stick the scope of his rifle through the duct table and shred the remaining glass to pieces, putting his hand through the window and unlocking the door easily.

The first few floors are clear. Simon always enters a room first, with you in quick succession. You are silent, touch and go, soft taps on shoulders that the both of you can read immediately. You’re in tune with him. When he steps left, so do you. When he turns, you cover, when he sweeps up, you sweep down. It’s a dance, a very well coordinated one, and it lets Simon breathe easier when he realizes how well you’ve adapted to each other over a short period of time.

Just a few weeks, and you are two sides of each other.

Simon swallows down the prideful purr in his chest. Now isn’t the time to get distracted.

When you make your way to the top floor, just below the roof, your chest starts to feel warm. You pause at the top of the stairs as Simon keeps his rifle trained at the first door in front of him. You swallow hard, widening your stance to keep yourself upright. You shake your head, trying to toss the jitters off of you. Your throat hurts as the saliva goes down.

Simon clears the room with you shuffling close behind. You blink rapidly when you see two of Simon, and he whips around suddenly. You can see him through your night vision stiffening in front of you. Shoulders tensing, fingers gripping his rifle tighter. You pause as he comes close to you, and your eyes water when he lifts one hand from his gun to cup your face gently.

You know what he’s asking. You nod shakily, and he taps his wrist with two fingers.

Give me two minutes, is what he’s saying to you.

You don’t get two minutes.

The door behind you slams open. Two men breach inside, and they come at you with a force too strong, and you go flying towards the far wall. Your back hits it hard, and you collapse onto the ground. Your whole body aches, and you know there will an array of nasty bruises under the skin. Your helmet took the brunt of the hit, but you still feel dizzy as it falls off your head, clattering to the ground. You cough, scrambling for your rifle that is a few feet away from you now, and Simon drops one of them with a few easy bullets, but the second man uses his dead companion as cover, throwing the body at Simon until he can lunge at him.

Simon swipes the blade out of his boot and goes for his weak spots. He manages to get him under the arm, across his thigh, but Simon is wearing a lot of gear, and with the weight of a dead alpha getting tossed at him again, he gets moved backwards enough to lose his footing, and then it happens.

The man’s gun fires, and it goes straight for Simon’s head. A flash of light that seals some sick sort of fate that you know can’t be yours. It’s not you that screams in response.

It is your omega.

You launch yourself at him. In your daze, your omega finds clarity, and she seizes her moment. You slip the blade out of its place in your thigh holster, and you toss a nearby chair at him to incapacitate his gun. It gets trapped underneath it, enough time for you to jump and land on him from behind.

He’s an alpha. Physically, you should be no match for him given your size differences, but something else is taking over. Your nails don’t just grab, they pierce his skin. Digging it, shredding flesh, and you bring your blade down over and over again against his chest. He screams in pain, trying to wriggle you off. You lock your ankles around his middle, keeping your hand coming, tearing with your nails and slicing with your knife, but he manages to get an arm underneath you and throw you off.

You hit the ground again roughly, but it doesn’t stop your omega. She gets right back up, but he tackles you. He uses his weight to pin you down, and the knife rings as it slides across the room, but your omega doesn’t let it stop her. He got too close, and she will make sure he regrets it.

He went for your mate, and she cannot have that. She won’t survive without him. Unclaimed, but she doesn’t care–Simon is hers, and she won’t let him go without something all-encompassing and violent. He’ll have to pry Simon out of her dead hands. You feel like you’re watching from the sidelines. You’re not yourself. It’s the first time that you don’t really care.

You scream, leaning up, and he doesn’t get a moment to think before you sink your teeth into the plush of his scent gland and rip it clean out.

Fuck. There’s blood gushing everywhere, spurting from where you’ve severed the gland. The gland is precious, anatomically–it provides most of the oxygen to the brain, and it’s what seals the bond. While it can’t be marked the same way an omega’s can, an alpha can’t survive without it. You’re finding out just how precious it is as you watch an alpha cough and sputter once he realizes what’s happening to him.

He crawls off of you, trying to use his hand to put pressure to his neck, but it’s no use. He leans against the wall and chokes, blood filling his mouth, and you spit out the flesh from between your teeth as you watch him gurgle and kick his feet out. He reaches out for you, pleading in his eyes, but you feel no mercy. There’s tears coming down his face now, and you watch with a scowl as the blood spills between his fingers instead of bringing his brain precious life.

Good fucking riddance.

You turn over once you’re satisfied he won’t get up. You see Simon still sprawled on his back behind you, and you scramble to get to him. You grab his helmet and throw it off, and you start to cry, feeling around and realizing there’s something sticky oozing and pooling onto your fingers. You can’t see very well in the dark, but you put pressure anyways, unsure of what you’re dealing with. Your heartbeat is loud, and it echoes in your ears.

“No–No!” You gasp. You grab Simon’s radio, hands shaking as you press down onto the button.

“Bravo-6, d-do you c-copy?” You cry. “Bravo-6, answer–please–”

“Kit?” John’s voice comes out surprised, low. “What happened?”

“Si–Ghost–” You sob, “W-We need a medevac! Medevac–top floor–”

Your hands continue to shake as you reach for the bottom of his mask and rip it off. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without the mask, but you need to know. You need to know.

His face–it is a little ugly. The eye-black is smeared across his freckles, bleeding across his face from the sweat. He has scars everywhere; they criss-cross along his cheek, cut his lips, but you ignore that as you lean down and put your ear to his mouth.

His breaths come shallow and slow.

You cry with relief, feeling around with your fingers. When all you feel is blood, you pick up his helmet and cry harder when you notice the side of the helmet has been grazed, and the bullet casing lies near his head.

He had missed.

He missed.

You cup his face, tapping his cheeks gently, trying to wake him up.

“Simon?” You whisper, sniffling. “Simon, wake up. Please wake up. Please–”

You can’t carry him. Even if you tried to get your omega to help you, you aren’t physically strong enough to pick him up and carry him out. He’s too big and too heavy, and you wouldn’t be useful anyways; you’d be without cover trying to haul his ass to a bird that’s just too far away.

“Simon–”

He coughs. You gasp, wrapping an arm under him and trying to sit him up. He’s so much heavier with all of his gear on, but you do it anyways, lifting him up and laying his head in your lap. You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, and you cup the back of his neck.

“I thought he killed you–” You sob. Simon hums, his eyes opening and closing, and you smooth a few fingers down his cheek, relieved to hear him breathe. In and out, in and out, low and slow as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

Your eyes meet. It’s not a look you were expecting. You expected him to be angry, but he’s not. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You must look a sight, you think. There must be blood on your face, staining your teeth, but all of your senses are dulled as you try and read him.

Your hands shake as you brush a bit of dust off his face. Your fingers are trembling, but it’s grounding to touch him and see him blink those dark eyes up at you. God, he’s not ugly, no, he’s gorgeous. He’s so beautiful. He’ll never be prettier than the way he is now. Raw and vulnerable–Simon is most himself here, you think, stuck in the in-between of an operation. This is where he must feel everything the most. You open your mouth to say something else, to ask him if he’s okay, but then his face scrunches when he finally realizes where you are.

“On the door,” Simon mutters. “Get y’r gun on the fuckin’ door.”

“Simon–”

“Now!”

You scramble to reach for the handgun in your thigh holster, turning to get up on your knees and cover the door. You will your hands to stop shaking, gripping the handle of the gun tight to keep them steady. You can hear Simon getting himself together behind you. Shuffling onto his feet, picking up his rifle and his helmet. When you look over your shoulder for just a second, you notice his mask is back on.

“Bravo-7 to Bravo-6, east building clear,” Simon rasps. He shoves his way past you, rattling you a little, and you stare at his back, defeated, as he clears the rest of the floor before making his way up the last flight of stairs. You hear your captain responding on comms, but you’re not paying enough attention. Simon slams the roof door shut once its behind you, and you wipe your eyes as Simon gets situated for overwatch as you cover the door.

“Simon, are you–”

“I don’t want to hear another word outta you unless we got contact on this fuckin’ roof,” Simon interrupts.

“I saved your ass!” You cry. “I did that! He would’ve killed you, you fucking asshole, so for once in your life, can you just look at me and say a fucking thank you?!”

Maybe Simon’s right. If you fight your omega, maybe you will lose. She might just kill you. You know she can. You’ve seen it happen before. Omegas that didn’t listen, losing themselves to the insanity of their inner struggle. It’s a violent end. It’s like they electrocute from the inside-out. Their minds betray them, and they let it take over, and with no alpha to soothe them, they’re just gone. If they drift too far, you can’t get yourself back.

Use me. I know what to do. I can get him back.

You do the only other thing you can try; you let your omega do the talking. The sweet, syrupy voice. The soft lilt. The edge that glides, doesn’t cut, the one that will hit his ear just right and hopefully get his alpha tick-tick-ticking inside of his head. The one that didn’t work on Kate–but Kate was not your mate. Kate never responded to you at all, not the way Simon does, and Kate has never tasted your cunt. Her alpha doesn’t know what she’s missing.

I can do it. Let me in.

“Please, Simon,” you beg. You see his fingers twitch as he adjusts the scope on his rifle. They falter, adjusting it just a few degrees too far. Simon doesn’t make mistakes, but then again he’s never had his omega purring in his ear like that. “Please.”

You make your way to him, curling a hand around his bicep. You tug him closer, trying to get him to look at you. He resists, but it’s a pathetic kind of resistance. The kind that you can overpower with just another firm tug. You can sense it, his hesitance, and your omega giggles in your head.

I have him. I can do it. Don’t worry.

“John was right,” Simon breathes. “You’re a problem. A liability.”

A liability because he doesn’t belong to anyone but you, maybe. He’s John’s liability. Not yours. Simon may be a part of their pack, but they should’ve picked up a fucking book when they knew you were coming. Submissiveness might be an inherent “trait” of your kind, but you realize now that is just a lie that alphas tell omegas to keep them quiet.

To keep them soft. To keep them begging. It’s probably something that your kind have learned over time, so distinct that you inherit it from someone that came before you, but you’re convinced that this kind of obedience and docility can be unlearned. It can be used.

If an omega cries, it would be stupid for an alpha to ignore it. It’s in their DNA–with just a soft whine, you can make Simon drop that rifle and bend you over any surface. They say it is for your sake. They say it is because omegas must be serviced or else they will succumb to themselves, but that isn’t what this is, and that’s not why omegas aren’t allowed in the field.

They’re not allowed because you can make Simon defy orders; because John can tell Simon something, and you can tell him something else, and you’re almost certain you know which way Simon will lean.

“Please just look at me, Simon,” you whisper. “Please.”

You cradle his face when he finally does. Your palms touch his wet mask, likely soaked with his own blood. You stand on your toes and draw his face closer to yours.

Fuck them for making you feel small. Fuck them for making you feel less than. Fuck anyone that ever made you feel like you were anything but in control, including her. If she just explained what she could do, this could’ve been a lot easier. If she just told you what she was capable of, you could’ve worked together. You could’ve given her what she wanted, and she could’ve given you what you wanted, and it could’ve been so much simpler.

“Gonna get me fuckin’ killed,” Simon growls. You start to cry again. Not because what he’s saying hurts you, but because he’s still bleeding, and all you can see when you close your eyes is that gun firing right at his head.

This is your ticket. This is your way out. Fuck Kate for making you believe that all you were meant for was being in his bed. You’re so close–aren’t you? You didn’t realize how close you were, but now you do, and you know exactly what to do.

You’re going to make them very, very sorry. You’re going to make them regret ever letting you inside. Your divisive, spitfire nature was not your line of defense. It was the indication of the future you always dreamed of, the future that is one bite-mark away from being tangible. You can taste it, like you taste what Simon wants in the air.

I can do it. I can help you. Let me in.

There was never a reason to be afraid. If anything, they should’ve been afraid of you.

You kiss him. It’s not a proper kiss, because his face is still covered, but you kiss Simon anyways. His cheeks warm, and his lips part, and you kiss him softly over and over as you take his face into your hands. When his arm slides around your waist, your omega is comfortable letting your knees buckle.

She knows already that Simon will catch you.

NEXT

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT, I ASKED FOREVER AGO, BUT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY ISA LOOPS AU??

Heads up this contains a lot, and I mean A LOT of spoilers for In Stars And Time. Including: = Act 6 spoilers, including main mystery and secret encounter = Minimal Act 5 stuff = And a bunch of extra stuff that happens through Act 3 and 4. SO BASICALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING, FINISH THIS GAME COMPLETELY BEFORE READING (ESPECIALLY THAT ACT 6 ENCOUNTER, IT WILL LITERALLY BE THE FIRST THING I MENTION UNDER THE CUT)

With all those warnings out of the way-

IN REPETITION AND CHANGE

Initial Concepts:

I feel it's important to show these sketches because they were the first ideas I ever had. I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to make an AU at this point, I didn't even know how I'd approach it. But I started sketching and it's been on my mind since- SO! Isa is stuck in the timeloop. I know what his wish is and he DOES have a Loop equivalent! The grumpy dandelion guy is Roboro (it/they/he). Their name is a very small play on Ouroboros and they call Isa "Seedling". However, this post is not about them, as I'm gonna talk about it and Isa's dynamic in a separate post. In short, Isa is his normal loud self up until Act 3, right? They beat the King, they reach the end, and whoops, the loop isn't broken. So now, what happens is that Isa starts getting his brains out. He starts thinking more analytically and tries to problem solve.

The more stuck he gets in his head, the less he's able to perceive his friends as real people, and more like them holding him back. Because even if Isa explains that he's smart, that they shouldn't be surprised if he says something, shock of all shocks, reasonable- They'll forget it the next loop.

So Isa is stuck with trying to portray his confident, loud, supportive facade- Which is fine! It wouldn't be the first time! But it progressively gets more and more frustrating, as he tries to find answers and simply looses the energy to pretend to be stupid.

TL;DR: Isa in the timeloop, unlike Siffrin, becomes more distant and cold rather then something more akin to Sif's mania.

NOW, MORE ART!!!

KILL KILL KILL:

I imagine Isa didn't have this encounter the same way that Sif did. Yeah, frankly, Isa is pissed with the sadness- But that's not why he goes through with this.

In this moment, Isa is trying to kill two birds with one stone. He's trying to get through this quickly, as well as reassure Mira that they can do this! If he shows how strong he is, then she'll feel safe right???

Poor Isabeau forgot that whenever he shows that he thinks ahead, he scares people. How could he forget that? How could he forget that he's inherently---

Family Quest:

I still think Odile is the one to call out to him (same with sus quest).

The hangouts I'm still figuring out, cause I don't think they'd too similar to base game- But, fun fact, at the end of this run, everyone agrees to keep travel together!

Isabeau brings it up, can't hurt if you can fix your mistakes right? And everyone agrees. The relief on Siffrin is the most palpable thing Isabeau has ever seen.

In this moment they love you. In this moment they all love you. In this moment---

Death Screen:

He loops back anyways. (This is one of the initial concepts that I ended up animating. This line in particular is when he reaches the end)

Act 5 Tarot Card:

NOW TO SEE MORE OF HIS PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SIDE

Thanks to @the-bitter-ocean for prescribing tarot cards to Isa (THEY ALL FUCK SO HARD) and for the RAW ASS LINE

If interacted with in act 5, predictably, Isa tears it apart. He doesn't need the divine judgement upon him, he's faced everyone's perception his entire life.

However, he tears it methodically. Tears it once in even pieces, twice, three times, and one of the pieces once more. In a way he isn't even getting his emotions out, it's like he's actively trying to tear it apart so it stops nagging him, like he wants to shut it up. Though, the Judgement card symbolizes rebirth, absolution and inner calling. In Act 6 he'd be able to look at it and find comfort and confidence in the card.

Act 5 Mirror:

And lastly, I have the Act 5 mirror picture. I haven't quite figured out how to make the normal ones work yet, however, I couldn't let go of the idea that Isa would not want to be in the picture.

The idea of seeing himself at all makes his head hurt and his stomach squeeze. The memory haunts him as he stands to the side and says the word. He didn't think the mirror would catch him.

AAAAND THAT'S ALL THE ART STUFF FOR NOW!!

I still have quite a bit of it to post, especially about Roboro, but I'm gonna leave it here for now.

I still gotta figure out the hangouts and potentially the dagger equivalent- but I have ideas for Bad Touch, the glass equivalent, and some extra little things that didn't happen in Siffrin's loops.

I needed to yap about this, because I've been slowly stacking up ideas and writing and I needed to share it at some point- If anyone read all this and has questions and stuff I fully welcome 'em!!