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bookshelf-dust · 9 days ago

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you’ll find it in a dresser drawer

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

word count: 2,550

warnings: mainly fluff and romantic stuff, a little bit of suggestiveness at the start, playful banter/swearing/name-calling (it’s all out of love)

synopsis: on a journey to declutter your little home, you and billy find lots of memories on the past and sit down to reminisce.

a/n: my bestie girl @clovermunson put this idea into my head actual ages ago, and i finally managed to get it done!! besides, we could all use a little love and care right about now <33

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“BILLY!”

The shower cuts off, leaving only the sound of water dripping from your loofah, down the ends of your hair.

“Huh!” Billy shouts, already making his way towards the bathroom. He doesn’t need a verbal cue—the tone of your voice is enough. Each lilt you take on tells him what he’s walking into.

You’ve hastily wrapped a towel around your midsection, and he walks in on you waving your leg around in his direction. “I shaved my legs.”

Billy laughs heartily. He leans down, cupping the back of your calf with one hand so he can kiss the skin of your shin. “That’s what you were doin’ in here all this time? Thought maybe you were rubbin’ one out or something.” He winks, dragging his hand up your now very smooth leg.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let him lift you over the rim of the tub, setting you down securely on the bath mat. “You know I’m too loyal to the fancy shower head for all that manual labor.” You smack a sweet, slightly damp kiss on Billy’s lips. “But seriously, aren’t you impressed? I don’t remember the last time I shaved them.”

He drags his hand up your knee. “I’m so impressed. Even more that you managed to go without a nick.”

Your eyes crinkle up with the biggest smile, reserved just for him. “I know, right?” You lean your head back, allowing Billy to kiss at your shoulder where he’s been nosing at you this entire time.

“Smell good,” he mumbles.

“I used the same things as always, pretty.”

Billy’s thumb presses gently under your chin, molding you so he can kiss right where your collar bones meet. “Always smell good. Could eat you right up.”

“Maybe later?” you quip, sneaking out from his hold. He drags his gaze up your legs as you go. Six years in and he still looks at every part of you like it’s the first time.

“No doubt, pretty girl. When you’re dressed you wanna help me with this box?”

“‘Course! I’ll just be a minute.”

The both of you have made it your mission to sort through every room in your little house. It’s not much, but there’s plenty of room and you take good care of it. Billy’s had more fun painting than he’d ever admit, and he helped you set up flower boxes so you had something to take care of.

The lone hallway closet, the bane of your existence, was your last task. The one you’d been avoiding. A small, dark hell of clutter. Tubs full of trinkets and memories from you or Billy or both. Extra blankets, board games. Anything that didn’t have a home, or that you’d just rather not deal with on any given day.

You slip on an oversized sweatshirt you’re sure you’ve had since college and a pair of Billy’s boxer shorts. He never wears this pair anyhow, and who are you to leave them gathering dust in the back of a dresser drawer.

Billy hears your bare feet pad against the hardwoods. You reach for a pillow, meaning to prop yourself up on it.

Billy grunts. You look up, where he’s motioning towards his lap with his free hand. The one not flipping through what looks like a smaller box full of pictures. You comply, walking over to him. He reaches upward, big hands holding onto your hips as he coaxes you down between his legs, your back resting against his chest.

“Hair smells good,” he mumbles, kissing the nape of your neck. He always tells you how good you smell. You never tell him that you always use the same things and, therefore, always smell the same.

“Thank you,” you say. He pushes the thick cotton of your sweatshirt aside, the pilling fabric catching on his calloused fingertips. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and sets the material back where it was.

Your teeth close around the inside of your cheek, hiding the giddy smile that threatens to appear. You lean forward just a bit, your gaze catching on a pile of photographs that look like they got developed and then set away, their finishes as pristine as if you’d just pulled them out of the paper envelope.

You suck in a breath. Billy’s hand drags up and down your freshly shaved and moisturized knee fondly.

“Are these the ones from the disposables?”

Billy grabs a handful of the glossy paper. “Think so. Remember you asked me to get them developed when we moved? So we didn’t take shit we didn’t need.”

“Yeah. I meant to buy an album for ‘em. Thought it seemed very grown up of us to have a photo book.”

“Even more grown up to leave it disassembled.”

You gaze over your shoulder and lock eyes with Billy. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, the first signs of a laugh at the corners of his eyes. You snort.

You grab the photos from his hand, along with the rest, and shift so you can spread them out on the floor between you. The first thought that comes to mind is how your living room floor desperately needs a rug. But then you catch a glimpse of someone’s tummy against a bright, summer sky.

Your index finger and thumb press against the corner of the paper, lifting it closer. It’s a picture of Billy and you at the beach, the date scrawled messily in his chicken scratch writing along the back: 07/26/91

In the photo, Billy stands under a tilted umbrella, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, the other pointing at the camera. You remember now that he’d been trying to get you to look at Robin, because she was trying to take your picture. There’s a cocky smirk on his face and a smear of sunscreen on his neck.

You’re wearing a pair of overalls, but one of the straps is falling down since they’re two sizes too big, your one piece swimsuit showing from underneath. The bottle in your hand and cream on your fingers all act as evidence towards your attempt to protect your boyfriend from the sun.

“I don’t remember Robin taking this,” you laugh, grinning up at Billy, more than pleased to know you have this moment captured forever.

“I do,” Billy says, flipping the image over to look at the date he saw you glance at seconds before. “She took about a thousand pictures that day. I’m surprised there aren’t more. And I remember writing this when it got printed.”

He turns it toward you once again, pointing out a small line of script at the bottom you’d failed to see before. My pretty girl, it reads.

You lean forward and kiss him, squeezing his cheeks between your hands because you know he hates it when you do but he looks too damn cute to resist.

There’s a couple of photos mixed in that are older—some from high school, a few baby pictures. You snag one of Billy from prom.

“This Billy would never have been such a sap.”

He glances at the picture. He’d rented a tux. Worn a red button up underneath it. No tie, no corsage or anything. He wasn’t going to go, but he got in his car about half an hour after it started and drove himself there because you’d mentioned you were going with a couple of friends.

“That’s because he also kinda had a stick up his ass,” Billy mumbles, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Even a cute ass like that couldn’t repel that big ‘ol stick.” You wink, looking at the other prom pictures. Billy pinches your thigh but it only makes you chuckle.

There’s a strip of you and Robin from the photo booth, her hair all frizzy, your forehead glistening with sweat. One awkward picture of you and Billy in front of the pitiful backdrop the student council had put together. Both of your smiles are soft, but it’s obvious neither of you were really comfortable with one another yet. What with the way his hand sits on your rib cage, one of yours on his hip and the other hidden in the tulle of your dress.

“You know I bought my first push-up bra for that night?”

Billy’s trademark cocky grin appears. “What?”

“I had Robin help me pick out a push-up bra because I was hoping to impress you. I thought maybe if my boobs looked good you’d think I was hot and we could be more than classroom friends. The bra ended up leaving my ribs sore for days after, but my boobs did look good.”

Billy looks pointedly at your boobs in the photo. “They really did. But I already thought you were hot. Why else would I have come in the first place?”

You blink at him. “I dunno, to do like, anything else?” He laughs at your remark. “I figured you wanted to party afterwards or that maybe there was a girl you wanted to see afterwards.”

Billy holds up a photo of you at your college graduation. He cried that day, watching you walk. He thinks you don’t know, but you could tell.

“I did. She’s right in front of me.”

He passes you a picture from Halloween two years ago. You were Tiffany Valentine and he was Charles Lee Ray. It was much easier to convince Billy to wear a trench coat and go without shaving for a few days than to even attempt putting him in a Chucky costume.

“Quit fuckin’ with me, baby. You did not want me when we were in high school. Don’t you remember how awkward I was every time we worked on something together?”

Billy leans forward, his lips hovering inches from yours. “You weren’t awkward. I just saw a girl I would’ve sold my soul for because she was so perfect.” He laughs when you try to pull away from his kiss, a result of that cheesy line. You kiss him back all the same.

“You realize we’re not sorting through this box at all?” You say, that matter of fact tone in your voice. “We’re reminiscing. Let’s set the photos aside and finish, yeah? Then we can put them into albums.”

Billy gives you a two finger salute. “Yes ma’am.”

The both of you spend the next few minutes sorting. There’s receipts from years past, piles of number two pencils left from college, stray earring backs, a couple scraps of fabric from when you’d tried to take up sewing. You even find a couple of textbooks—some possibly stolen from the library of Hawkins High School—Billy’s birth certificate, a spare key to his car.

Just when you reach the bottom, you spot a little wooden box. You’re not sure what it is, but based on the size you’d guess it might be for trinkets or it could have had Billy’s college ring in it.

You glance over your shoulder at him where he’s sorting through a stack of papers, every once in a while scratching the tip of a pen against a spare piece to see if it’s got ink in it. You don’t think he’s paying you any mind.

You place your thumb nail under the ledge of the box where it has the smallest groove in it where it’s meant to be opened. You open it haphazardly, with a sharp snap as the hinge widens.

Your breath catches when your thumb grazes velvet and you realize there’s something inside. You’re too curious, too focused, to notice that Billy has moved closer to you, that he’s now watching your face for any emotion you might show, his own heart smacking against his ribcage.

He thought this was a clever way to do it. The least stressful one he could think of, anyhow. He knows you don’t like much spectacle and figured keeping it intimate like this would be best for both of you, really.

The box opens with a small click and your eyes start to go all teary, despite the fact that you haven’t registered what’s happening or even looked at Billy or even looked at the damn thing you’re holding.

The ring is simple: it’s thin silver, with a small, diamond shaped emerald front and center, the prongs and basket twisting gently so that it almost looks like they’re hugging the stone. It’s not too much, but it’s gorgeous. It’s you. Unmistakably.

You turn to look at Billy. He smiles at you, his eyes all gentle.

“You fucking dickhead,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. He laughs.

His hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb caressing away any stray tears. He’s doing his best not to cry himself. “What do you think, huh?”

You look down at the ring and back at him. Down and back at him. “It’s so pretty.”

“Fitting for such a pretty girl,” Billy says. You’d smack him if you weren’t so busy crying. He gently removes it from your hand, holding it out to you.

“So, babydoll, how’d you feel about marrying me?”

Your eyes flick back and forth between his. You let out a giggle. “You’re not on one knee, Billy.”

He shifts awkwardly into the “proper” position and you both stare at each other, the beginnings of a hysterical laughing fit on either of your faces. You’d think someone had just made a “your mom” joke—not that you were being proposed to.

A tear chooses that moment to escape your lash line.

“I bought this for you about a week ago,” Billy starts. “I couldn’t have it too long because I knew I’d have a panic attack. I went to four different jewelry stores until I saw this one. I remembered, when Robin proposed to her girlfriend, that you said you’d always loved emeralds. Thought diamonds were overrated. And you always gravitate towards that color stuff in the store, y’know?”

“Like that dress you bought on sale for your birthday or the blanket for the couch. I’m hoping you’ll like this one.” He looks down at the ring and back up at you. “I love you, you know that? I know you know that. And I think lately I’ve just realized that I shouldn’t wait for good shit to go down. I don’t need to, especially when I can make it happen.”

“I want you for the rest of forever. Me and you. So really, what do you think? You wanna marry me?”

You blink at him. “Dunno. Jury’s out. Could take a while to reach a verdict.”

He laughs into your hair, one arm wrapping around the small of your back, the other cradling your head. This feeling right here, of being held, is something you’ll never get over. The way his body feels wrapped around yours. A lifetime of this safety? Duh.

You slide your hand under his shirt and gently scratch his back. His skin is always so warm.

“Of course I do, you fucking dumbass,” you mutter, watery eyes overtaking your every sense. Then you kiss him on the cheek and whisper into his ear, “Honestly kinda felt like we were married already anyhow. Now I just have a pretty token of your affection, too.”

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note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner by @steph-speaks

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove deserved better #billy stranger things #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove one shot

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gojosdove · 1 month ago

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Satoru Gojo and somno :33 Gojo had assumed you were probably sleeping, I mean its 2am and hes just now getting off of work, he wouldn't want his lovely girlfriend to stay up for him. You had told him you could do it, stay up and wait for him to get home, but alas, sleep occupied your body and you fell asleep in your shared bedroom. When Gojo arrived home he quietly came inside, He locked the door behind him and navigated his way to your bedroom through the dark halls. He turned the knob to your bedroom and when he opened it, all he saw was his sweet girlfriend in a deep sleep. The sight of you wearing only some panties and one of his oversized t-shirts (well oversized for you at least) made his heart jump in his chest. He silently made his way into the bathroom to bathe before bed, he had blood and God knows what else all over him. When he finished he put some sweats on, and layed down with you, rolling over to stare at your peaceful sleepy self. Gojo spooned up behind you and nuzzled into you, but as he's drifting off he finds himself growing quite.....hard. He's not shocked I mean, he's been pent up all day, hard at work, away from his sweet girlfriend. He remembers a late night, post sex conversation about letting him do whatever he wants to you if you're asleep, vice versa, so why not act on that now? He slowly untangles himself from your body and sits up, just looking at you, sleeping so soundly. It's late so he doesn't wait any longer to get started, he grabs your body and slowly moves you onto your back, not wanting to wake you. Gojo, now towering over you, slowly pulls the blanket away from your body, and tosses it somewhere on the ground. He pushes down his sweats and frees his long, veiny throbbing cock and strokes himself before using a finger to push your panties to the side. Using the tip of his cock to spread precum all over your pussy, He very slowly pushes in and groans at the warm feeling of your tight hole engulfing him. You, still asleep, moan so very softly and Gojos heart melts. He bottoms out and sits there for a moment in your hot, wet heat, not wanting to wake you. He slowly pushes in and out, in and out before finding a steady, soft pace, rubbing his thumb over your clit. He pushes up your (his) shirt over your pretty tits so he can massage one with one hand as he stimulates your clit with the other. You start to stir slightly so he slows down, as to not take you away from dream world. His thumb is doing quick concentrated circles on your clit to make you cum, although your sleeping it would ruin his ego to not let you cum first. Your tiny little sleepy moans almost make him release his hot, white load on the spot, but he holds out. You finish on Gojos cock and pulse around him, waking you up slightly. The sight above you is your beloved boyfriend, softly abusing your tight hole to get off, but, you don't mind. Your eyes are lidded and you sleepily smile at Gojo once you two lock eyes. He winks at you and and you close your eyes again to fall asleep <3 He finishes shortly after and stays inside as he comes down from his high. He slowly pulls out making you moan ever so slightly. Gojo gets up to grab a towel and comes back to wipe you off. He does it so sweetly it makes your heart hurt. He pulls your panties back up for you and drapes the blanket over you two as he climbs back in bed, laying your head on his chest. little did you know, round 2 would be in the morning.

"Sweet dreams, baby"

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dean-a-mean-tae · 9 months ago

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Stray Kids as Hybrids

WARNINGS: Minho and Felix are "defect" hybrids. There's cussing in this. I got the information from research, so if you're an animal "expert" respectfully correct me.

Master list | Not requested, but I don't care.

Chan (Grey Wolf)

He has a grey tail with grey ears that have a black rim.

His fur is extremely fluffy, and he sheds a lot.

In his human form, he has curly hair that's so grey it almost looks white.

Though he has a ton of fur, he doesn't feel the heat.

He needs a lot of nutrients.

He'll eat over 13 pounds of meat at least once a week.

A "healthy" amount of meat for a human is 23 to 33 ounces per week. There are 16 ounces in a pound.

You can do the math yourself.

He's never gone over 12 days without consistent meat intake.

You gotta feed him.

Good luck. 13 pounds = 208 ounces

He won't tell you he's hungry, but you can hear his tummy from across the planet.

In his wolf form, his ears stand up and point forward.

In his human form, his ears just do what they want.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves barely bark.

Whines can be a sign of affection or distress.

You need to pay attention to the signs and what's going on to know the difference.

His growls are warnings, and his loud ones are when he feels threatened.

His quiet growls are playful.

Chan has and will go over to Minho or Seungmin and put his paw on them. IYKYK

the pictures of those 2 wolves are hilarious

Minho (Tiger)

Unfortunately, Minho is considered a defect.

He looks like your stereotypical tiger.

It's just the tip of his tail is white instead of black

In his human form, he has brown eyes that turn yellow when he's in a bad mood

His "defect" is his hair. It's dark brown which makes the orange in his ears stand out.

Believe it or not, he prefers to come out at night.

He doesn't mind the day as long as it isn't hot.

Occasionally, he'll sunbathe, but it's seemingly random.

He, unlike most tigers, doesn't like water. He can take showers and baths, but big bodies of water are a no.

He can't see the bottom. He isn't getting in the water.

He still likes the knowledge of having access to a lake. Preferably a private lake.

His animal form is almost 9 feet at a weight of 650 something pounds. The weight is healthy for his tiger form.

If you thought Chan needed a lot of meat, then Minho is a nightmare. ;-;

Tigers require 88 lbs per week. :)

Since he's a hybrid, he can eat at least 75 lbs. Which is 1200 ounces...

His weight is perfect for snuggling, but his weight is painful if he lays on you.

He doesn't like roaring because it's loud. He grunts and uses chuffs to communicate.

If you are ever cold, just lay on him.

Tiger fur can get so hot that steam might come off their fur when in the snow.

He isn't very sociable and prefers his own space. He doesn't mind you or the boys, but it's obvious if he doesn't like someone.

You know that thing cats do with their tail when they feel mischievous?

The tip of the tail starts flicking but everything else is still?

That's Minho.

You always know when he's done some stupid shit or is about to

Changbin (Hare/Jack Rabbit)

He has brown fur with a white tummy

He gives off Thackery the hare from Alice In Wonderland 2010 vibes

He thumps, in both human and animal form, when he feels endangered or if he wants something

Usually, it's because he wants something

As an animal, he does the binky thing where rabbits jump high in the air

He only does it when he's extremely happy

Sometimes, his legs kick off too high, and he falls forward, like in the picture on the right.

When he's angry, he'll sit on his hind legs with his paws up like he's about to start boxing

When he's annoyed, he'll flick his feet and walk away

Sometimes, he'll kick whatever or whoever is irritating him (like in the first picture)

If he starts nibbling on you while in animal form, it's a sign of affection

Speaking of nibbling, rabbits eat 2-3% of their weight in vegetables.

He's a big boy, so... yeah... have fun. :)

Side note, he's very cuddly.

He rivals Jisung in his attachment to you

He will change into his animal form so it's easier for him to be close to you

Sometimes he'll go flying around the room

Kind of like the zoomies but for bunnies

He is a little dramatic

When he's really relaxed and feels safe, he'll flop over

If he's in animal form, he just does it. Doesn't matter where he is

If he's in human form, he'll flop on the nearest soft object or on the nearest person

Hyunjin (Ferret)

His fur is mostly brown, but he has 2 white rings of fur on his face with a brown spot under one of his eyes.

In human form, his hair is brown, and his animal ears have a white rim.

He's so hyper.

If he isn't running or jumping around the room, he's asleep in a dark space.

Probably under the covers or in a drawer somewhere

Ferrets eat 5-7% of their weight a day.

As a hybrid, he can eat 4% of his weight a day and still be considered healthy.

I recommend just feeding him 5% to be on the safer side.

Ferrets have poor vision. Unfortunately, Hyunjin has poor vision in both his forms.

He wears contacts in human form.

He will snuggle under your clothes and against your skin

If you have a bigger chest, he'll lay between your tits/pecks

If your chest his flatter, then he'll curl up on the left side so he can hear your heart better

When he wants to play, he'll run at people and then quickly run off

He'll keep repeating this until they get the message

When he's angry, he glares and hisses at whatever is causing his anger

He makes cute chitter noses and sniffs when he's curious

Just like other ferrets, he squints when he's sick

Don't get scared if you try to wake him and he doesn't move.

When he sleeps, he's GONE!

He won't wake up until his body is ready.

I like the idea that he scrunches his nose when he's confused

Like genuinely confused. Not "What are you doing?" Confused

I'm talking "What the hell is this thing?" confused

Shit you not! If you have salty skin or a hybrid safe lotion on, he'll lick you. Both in animal form and in human form

He has to be near sleep to start licking you as a human, though

Ferrets kiss, by the way

It's how they show affection

So don't be surprised if you get grabbed and you feel thick lips smack your cheek

He's just giving you a little appreciation, that's all :)

Sometimes, Hyunjin likes to be difficult in his human form

So, like a ferret, if he wants something, he will stare at you.

When you acknowledge him, and you will, he'll repeated glance at what he wants

He refuses to verbalize it until you either get it correct or he's tired of you guess incorrectly.

All just depends on his mood and how generous he's feeling that moment

Ferrets with splay out and sigh when they're sad

It's so fucking cute

Hyunjin does the same thing but on top of you

If you're working on something, like a laptop or iPad, then he'll flop onto that.

Or he'll flop onto your book or something

When you're wearing a hoodie, he'll hide away from the others in your pocket

So make sure it has the one pocket thing and not 2

He can still fit in the smaller ones but he wants the space

Jisung (Squirrel)

He is a ground-dwelling squirrel.

He is usually found sitting on Tiger Minho's head.

Like other squirrels, he is terrified of owls

"Why would someone need to look that scary?! Or turn its head that much?!"

Squirrels do this thing called caching. It's where they find and hide food.

I shit you not! He hides so much food around the house.

He doesn't need a lot of food, but he will gladly stuff his face full.

If you have to travel, then take him with you. He loves to travel and hates being left by himself.

Doesn't matter if you're leaving him with the others. He wants to go with you.

Sometimes he'll sit directly on top of you or pressed against you.

You have no personal space.

If you don't like physical affection, let him down gently please.

He doesn't want to be the cause of your discomfort, so tell him in the most fragile way possible

With that being said, he will use his face to get out of trouble

Quickly turning into his animal form and acting cute so you won't be angry

If that doesn't work, then he's dipping

I'm talking hightailing it out the room and into the backyard

You won't see him until dinner or it's bedtime

Speaking of bedtime, he wants you to tuck him in

So please do it. Give him a kiss on each cheek and then one on his forehead and he'll be good to go.

DON'T TUCK THE BLANKET IN

It makes him feel trapped and like he's in a cage.

Makes him more likely to have nightmares, too.

Felix (Ginger Cat)

Felix is also, unfortunately, considered a defect.

His fur is a golden orange color with lighter stripes.

His eyes look green in the sun, but they're amber.

His "defect" is also from his human form.

His hair is blond like the strips, so his ears stick out. His freckles are also, unfortunately, considered a "flaw."

Most people think when a cat rubs its head against you, it's a sign of affection, which it is, but it's also them marking their territory.

They're scenting you and showing ownership over you.

It's how cats show pride in their belongings :)

If you let him out of the house to hunt, he will return with "food" for you.

He doesn't really think much of it. It's just his cat's side telling you you're family.

I guarantee you'll walk in on Felix either biting the shit out of a toy or him chasing Hyunjin around the room.

Did you know that cats knead because of their early days of nursing?

Kittens would knead at their mothers to encourage milk production. Adult cats knead to show content or to calm down.

Think of it as Felix feeling safe with you.

Felix is the definition of "If I fits, I sits"

If you're curled up on the couch, then he's curled up in the space behind your knees and thighs.

Small spaces make cats feel safe, so be sure to give Felix spots to hide in.

It helps with his natural instinct to ambush.

If Felix stares at you with thin pupils, try not to stare back.

It's his inner cat on high alert, and it could take that as you threatening him.

Meanwhile, slow blinks are kitty kisses.

If you slowly blink back at Felix, he'll do it repeatedly if he's in cat form. If he's in human form, he'll latch onto you and give you cuddles.

If Felix's nightly zoomies irritate you, feed him before you go to bed, make sure he tires himself out before bed, or get him a food puzzle.

Nightly zoomies are leftover energy mixed with their instinct to hunt during the night.

Airplane ears!

If Felix's ears are just sitting up, then he's listening to his surroundings. If his ears are flicking around, then he's agitated or dealing with anxiety.

Either peacefully help him or leave him alone. If he's in cat form, then leave him alone. He'll come to you if he wants to.

Felix knocks things over only when he is bored, as other cats do. It fascinates him to see things topple over. If you want Felix to stop, find a way to entertain him.

When he flops onto your things, it's him scenting your stuff to show you're his and a sign he wants attention.

When the tip of Felix's tail twitches it can mean he's curious or he's hunting. It'll go away when he calms down.

Seungmin (Golden Retriever)

Golden Retriever

A sassy, playful ball of golden fur. He needs frequent exercise and sheds a lot.

Unlike your stereotypical golden retriever, Seungmin's fur is more soft wheat than golden yellow.

His floppy ears blend with his hair when in human form.

Seungmin doesn't like to be left alone. He won't tell you to stay. He will follow you around.

Seungmin doesn't actively seek out strangers. If someone tries to pet him, then he'll move away.

He also doesn't jump on people and hates when others jump on him.

He's not as social as your average Golden Puppy.

I recommend having a big yard for him to run around if you don't have one for the bigger animals.

Please make sure you feed him the proper amounts. He won't hesitate to raid the fridge if he's hungry.

When he grabs things with his mouth, he's extremely careful.

Softly grabbing your arms or a book to move it out of the way.

He'll share his food with you if you beg enough. He won't actively go out of his way to feed you unless you're ill.

If he's being "Destructive" it's because he isn't stimulated enough.

He needs more mental and physical exercise.

He doesn't have separation anxiety unless you decide to give him a terrible backstory on how you found him.

Otherwise, he's pretty confident that you'll come back home.

If something comes up, you'll communicate the issue and a general idea of when you might be home.

If you don't, he'll be pissed.

It's like breaking a pinky promise. Don't do that.

He'll bop you in the face

Jeongin (Fennec Fox)

Fennec Fox

He's got big ass ears and they grow to accommodate his head in human form (Minho thinks it's hilarious)

He's got a cream color hair with white streaks in them

You can barely see the streaks, but the others tell you they're there

He's such a smart cookie until he gets in his animal form.

Then it's like he lost all brain cells except one. That 1 brain cell alternates between Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jeongin. Occasionally, Jisung will get it.

He kind of just rolls around

He's just there, chilling in the silence or the chaos

In animal form, he'll curl up on your lap or on the bed

If you're in an office, pull up a chair next to you and he'll lay in that instead

He may think you're mad at him, but just giving him rubs or head pats and he's good

He's kind of like a cat

You have to gage his moods

If he doesn't want to be touched, he'll look at you as you touch him like the picture on the left

Just "Mittens off, human" paws crossed and everything

Buy him clothes for his animal form. PLEASE

He loves them

Go to Pinterest or something and look up fennec fox in clothes or something and it's so flipping cute

You know that dolphin screech Jeongin does? That but in animal form...

The picture on the right for the header of this post?

That's him when he has too much energy, but no thoughts to put into action

As a human, he's like your average Jeongin, but with big ass fluffy ears and tail.

Sometimes he knocks stuff over with his tail and he's so sorry

After something crashed, you can hear him whine in the kitchen from your bedroom

The others don't tease him as much as they could because they know he's genuinely sad about it

Not insecure, but definitely annoyed with himself for messing something up again

Reassure him please.

Don't make it too obvious because then he'll shut down and tune you out

Not intentionally, it's just his brain's self defense.

It doesn't want to be reminded of his mistakes.

It's the main reason why he likes staying in his animal form.

This was fun

©️DEANAMEANTAE2024

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mirohlayo · 11 months ago

Text

F1 DRIVERS TAKING CARE OF YOU

ON YOUR PERIODS

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

・WARNING : mention of period/cramp, fluff

・NOTE : i didn't wrote it in fem reader so this is for anyone who is menstruating

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

he would be the most caring and understanding boyfriend. he knows how painful your period cramps are and he hates seeing you suffer like this. so he does his best to help you, either by buying you your favorite snacks or putting a hot water bottle on your stomach. hums in your ear sweet words like "everything is okay" to boost up your mood. lots of kisses on your forehead to keep your energy. also he'll plan in advance your others periods to make sure he'll be ready to take care of you when they'll come back.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

poor boy would be completely lost at first. he doesn't really know what to do, he starts panicking because he doesn't know how to ease your pain. so he would call his sisters to get help and advices. he'll do everything they told him to do : buying you extra snacks, making hot tea and any warm drinks, start a stock of painkillers. he joins you in bed, tucking you close to his body and cuddle you with tons of kisses here and there. he would also gently massages your tummy because he thinks it ease the pain. literally became the sweetest boyfriend.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

he doesn't think twice before running over the store to buy you your survival kit. i know for sure he would blush really hard when the cashier scans the pads right in front of him. but then run back again to your apartment to check on you. he won't leave your side, he's stuck with you until your periods end. he'll always ask you if you're fine, if you need anything, if you want something. when your only answer was "you" he'll get so shy but happily cuddles you, pressing some kisses on your poor tummy. he just hopes pain would disappear because he doesn't want to see you suffer.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

like when you're sick, he knows how to deal with your periods. princess treatment on top. he would cook your favorite food and put your favorite movie on the tv. he keeps an eye on you from the kitchen and if he hears you growl from pain he's already next to you in a second. also prepares you a hot bath to relax your stomach from cramps. he'll put all his being and all his efforts to make sure your periods are a little less painful. he won't rest for a whole week, and of course he doesn't forget to fill you with so much love, like with soft kisses on your cheeks.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

literally the softest boy ever. he hates when you're on your periods because it looks like you're going to die. he perfectly knows what to give you. all you need to do is to rest on the bed and the rest he takes care of. he's just so caring, so sweet and gentle with you. he would constantly rub your stomach, sometimes pressing a hot water bottle on it. he'll also play with your hair, just do anything to distract you from the pain. he makes sure your full attention is on him and not on your cramps. and if so, he'll curse the cramps because they make his poor baby suffer.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

he would 50% knows how to handle it and 50% messes up. like of course he's aware of your cramps and how much it is painful. but he's thinking about one million ways to help you to go through it that he ends up getting headaches. he would do literally anything he thinks is good for you. some things work and some just worsen the pain. and he'll panic about it, stress fills his body. but you reassure him, and after you told him what he needed to do, everything was finally okay. he becomes so much caring, and he's so gentle with his touches. he'll learn about it and you can count on him to make you feel better, thanks to his cuddles.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

periods ? he always forget them, but don't worry he's always ready to help you and to take care of you. he gives you extra comfort and extra treats. tea, snacks, hot things to soothe the pain. if you crave something he'll literally search it everywhere for you. his lover needs the best treatment during periods. but i feel like he would be curious about it, and while you're laying on the bed he'll ask you about periods and how painful it is. just to understand better in order to be the perfect caring boyfriend for your next periods.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

what is even periods ? first time you told him you were on your periods he didn't get it. but then he saw your painful face and he knew something was wrong. when it's your first day he always stresses, he doesn't know how to act anymore. like completely lost. but he quickly put himself together and manage to take care of you. he's for sure joking about it sometimes, like teasing you gently just to put a smile on your face. but he knows how painful it is and so he always ends up in your arms, his head on your tummy as he sleeps and strokes your waist. he hopes this ease your cramps.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

he transforms into a strict boyfriend. because he wants you to rest for your whole periods time. he asks you every minutes if you're good and if you need anything. you just keep saying that you're all okay but still he's not completely relaxed. if you sigh softly he's already overthinking about it, thinking something is wrong. so to calm him, he would pull you into his arms, your head on his chest. kisses the top of your head and rubbing your stomach with one hand. he'll end up sleeping with you too, and dream about how long your periods will be, because he can't hold seeing you suffer from it.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #pierre gasly x reader

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frogchiro · 4 months ago

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Omg ur centaur könig got me thinking about a waternymph! reader who takes care of a local waterfall which she had been born into by the soft ripples splashing on the shore of the small lake, small bundles of flowers and cloaking trees practically it shroud it from sight and any passing adventurers. You're alone, the lake can't hold more than a single one of you and you can't help but feel lonely..

SO YOU MAKE IT A POINT TO TAKE TO ANYONE AND EVERYTHING THAT SOMEHOW MANAGES TO WALK PAST OR FIND UR RESERVOIR

You chat up to a passing chimera called Farah, then another few harpies which had flown by looking for her, another pretty nymph, a few satyrs who tried to be cheeky and get you to come out of the water despite your flustered protests. It's that you couldn't, you just find it odd! You protest despite their little teasing tugs, hands wrapped around your bicep to pull you up where instead, you mischievously pull them down and get them doused and their flutes ruined. You even meet a hulky centaur who seems very sleep deprived, with many other nymphs toddling around him! You greet them with an excited smile and you all immediately become BESTIESSS you help them refill their water, and even let them bathe in your spring, you even manage to talk to the massive centaur who is actually quite polite and curious about you. By the time they leave, you're all basically bawling your eyes out and hugging and despite their insisting you join them, u just can't leave ur little spot like that:( they leave and u wave them goodbye with a chirp and a song. You somehow met the formidable minotaur who had managed to escape the labyrinth, scarred and dirty and helped him bathe and drink some water. He returns the favour by catching you a deer for a nice, hearty meal and some wine which had been left by the entrance of the labyrinth he'd left, forgotten offerings. He leaves after a month of recovery and it's just as teary. But it's alright! U don't mind..:(

Until all of a sudden, when you're just happily sunbathing on one of the tilted rocks in the middle of the small lake, napping on your side,, when you're practically jolted awake by arguing! Uh oh, everyone you've ever met is back and arguing on the lake side about who exactly means more to you(in a more comical way, not in a weird boyfriend girlfriend sort of thing?? Idk how to explainnn) like:

"Well, she combed our hair and gave us forehead kisses!" Arguged one of the many nymphs, pointing at the band of satyrs who looked like they were going to shank someone with their flutes. "So? She played in the water with us!" One of satyrs snaps, giving the girl a mean mug. "How stupid! She let me drink from her personal cup, fools!" The chimera yelled. "Yeah, same!" The harpies tried to butt in. "I stayed with her for a month." The minotaur adds as well, his voice rumbly. Alongside them are myriad of other creatures you didn't even know you had made such an impact on, it would make u cry lf happiness if not for the fact they're still arguing. They all are rather passionate about ur happiness, and they all want to be the cause of it:((

And all waternymph! Reader wants to do is just take a nap..but first priority in her mind! Hugs and reunions! Fuck your arguing! You want to hear about everyone's adventurers! So, with a cute smile, u get everyone to set up around the lake and that night is filled with a ton of fun festivities, drinking and a lot of wrestling among different species(for fun and competition, it's actually really funny to watch!)

SORRY FOR THE LONG SPAM BUT THIS HAS BEEN COOKING IN MY MIND FOR SO LONG<<33 I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH I JUSTTTTT MWAH MWAH UR AMAZING!!! MUCH LOVE XOXXOO

It's very much okay darling, I don't mind!! Thank you for all the love and I'm sorry for not responding earlier :((

I hope you guys enjoy the read and please send me more of your thoughts on nymph!Reader and CentaurKönig♡♡♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #nymph!reader #centaur!könig

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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I’ve never sent one of these before so I apologise if this is silly. But Imagine hotch is scrolling through readers instagram and derek catches him. He’s all embarrassed denying that it meant anything meanwhile derek is literally taunting him about his crush.

i used fem!reader for this just bc you didn't specify so i hope that's okay! this prompt was so good <33

The way that Hotch is bent over his knees, Derek thinks that he's crying. Which is a shocking sight for him, but not unheard of. He beelines for his boss but instead of glistening tears he finds the glow of a lit screen, stopping short before Hotch is able to see Morgan out of the corner of his eye.

Morgan thinks he's actually more surprised that Hotch is hunched over his phone than he would have been if he was crying. Crying is just something that happens when you have too much sadness welling up inside of you, and Morgan knows Hotch has a lifetime of sadness pent up and ready to blow. What's strange is that he's on Instagram, his posture is shitty and he's indulging in social media like a normal person; like someone who isn't Aaron Hotchner would.

Derek isn't about to interrupt the only time he's ever seen Hotch relax, but before he can turn away, his boss's thumb clicks on a picture in the grid he'd been scrolling through. Morgan quickly realizes that what he'd thought was the Explore page was actually someone's profile, a woman- a pretty woman, and he watches Hotch peruse the six photos you'd uploaded to the set.

Morgan's never seen you before, but he commits your username to memory, hellbent on finding your profile, then giving your name to Garcia for a full deep dive. He wants to know who you are, how Hotch knows you, if you're single and ready to mingle with his seemingly-unmingle-able boss.

Hotch lingers for just a second longer on the photo of you in a bathing suit than the ones where you're posing beside your friends in matching sundresses; really, Derek might be imaging that. But it's all he needs to finally reveal himself, clapping a firm hand down onto Hotch's shoulder.

"My man," He grins, squeezing Hotch's tense muscles when the man startles for the first time in his life. Nothing ever catches Hotch off guard, but now he's fumbling to lock his phone and struggle out of his seat so that Derek isn't looming over him.

"What do you need, Morgan?" Hotch addresses his subordinate with a tight frown on his face, swallowing so that his Adam's apple bobs.

"I need to know whether to set an extra place next to you for dinner at my place this weekend," Derek pries, "Is she coming?"

"She is not coming to dinner this weekend," Aaron snaps, frown somehow deepening, "She's none of your business."

"That's no fun," Morgan tsks, "Come on, Hotch, you can tell me! Where'd you meet her, what's her name? She's cute, I see why you like her. 'Seems fun, too, she'll fit right in."

"We're not involved with each other," Hotch insists, but Derek can see his face being slowly seized by a pink flush, "I got distracted on my phone, that's all."

"Yeah, distracted by that bikini," Derek snorts, and for a moment he genuinely thinks Hotch might lunge for him.

"That's inappropriate," Aaron glares Morgan's way, fists clenched by his side.

"Alright, alright, stand down," Morgan puts a hand up to placate his boss, "I was just trying to get a rise out of you, Hotch. Y'know, what friends do? We're friends, man, you can tell me if you're interested in someone."

"In this office I'm your boss," Hotch reminds him sternly, though his stiff posture has weakened slightly, worn down by Derek's earnest appeal, "Social matters have no place here."

"Women don't like men with sticks up their asses," Morgan drawls, mentally repeating your username so that he doesn't forget it before he can dig up information on you. He turns to the door of the conference room he'd caught Hotch lingering in, headed back to his desk, "I suggest you sort that out if you ever wanna get with her, Hotch. And if you need help doing that, you know where to find me."

He takes his leave, he knows his place, but Hotch calls for him just before he can let go of the door: "Morgan."

At Derek's curious glance back at him, "Thank you. This stays between us."

Morgan hopes Hotch takes his acknowledgement as agreement, because he's not going to make a promise to his boss that he won't keep. Derek bites back a grin as he beelines for Garcia's office, no it won't.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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rush-the-stars · 7 months ago

Text

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

━─━────༺༻────━─━

|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

━─━────༺༻────━─━

When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly.

But then he holds the food away from you.

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating.

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water.

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time.

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving.

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him.

He is rather pleased, though.

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it.

He laughs warmly, fondly.

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away.

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth.

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.”

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge.

The orange pops into your mouth.

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit.

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more.

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands.

You swallow the piece in your mouth.

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you.

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again.

You turn your face away from him. He sighs.

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.”

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.”

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.”

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.”

Stubbornly, you remain silent.

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears.

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.”

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve.

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.”

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way.

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?”

Suguru studies you for a moment.

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him.

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice.

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are.

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds.

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes.

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now.

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better.

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him.

He takes hold of you easily.

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick.

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter.

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay.

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man.

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight?

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch.

You seek friction and he denies you.

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again.

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?”

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.”

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest.

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.”

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning.

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body.

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers.

You glare up at him with glassy eyes.

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on.

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek.

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is.

You hold his gaze furiously.

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth.

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you.

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down.

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks.

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands.

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints.

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.)

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him.

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls.

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?”

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul.

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him.

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?”

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it.

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw.

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.”

Something inside of you snaps.

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you.

In an instant, you are back atop him.

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer.

He actually cries out in pain.

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist.

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have.

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt.

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him.

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again.

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared.

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest.

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance.

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him.

Not so pristine.

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him.

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.”

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.”

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.”

“Let me up,” you snap.

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks.

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more.

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard.

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you.

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.”

And for once, you don’t fight him.

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you.

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.”

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now.

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest.

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring.

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep.

***

Suguru wakes you at some point.

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing.

You whimper.

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?”

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash.

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.”

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this.

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.”

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy.

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more.

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind.

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light.

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.”

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.”

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too.

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?”

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings.

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard.

You ache.

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever.

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry.

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain.

Suguru lifts you into the bath.

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair.

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little.

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you.

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours.

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?”

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.”

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him.

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh.

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.”

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.”

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.”

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss.

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it.

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone.

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.”

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.”

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?”

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late.

The fever only worsens.

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day.

***

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you.

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began.

For once, you have shocked Suguru.

Enough that his lips part.

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant.

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds.

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve.

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit.

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?)

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed.

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp.

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind.

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—”

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him.

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together.

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.”

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers.

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously.

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought.

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face.

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again.

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you.

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask.

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin.

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin.

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.”

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.”

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting.

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough.

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse.

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.”

You curse this time.

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.”

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.”

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger.

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself.

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.”

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly.

You bite off a groan.

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.”

“Suguru—”

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you.

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?”

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child.

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.”

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration.

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?”

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so—

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving.

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns.

You force yourself to freeze, still panting.

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound.

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.”

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away.

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?” Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you?

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks.

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.”

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want.

You desire.

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast.

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—”

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob.

Your tears make him smile.

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?”

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you.

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly.

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl.

And then, “look at me.”

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless.

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.”

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry.

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?”

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching.

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.”

Without thinking, you obey him.

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief.

You cry out, clinging to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.”

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible.

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.”

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.”

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—”

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.”

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss.

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.”

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.”

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat.

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly.

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted.

You sob.

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you.

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder.

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat.

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above.

Ice cold water pours on you.

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water.

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you.

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap.

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap.

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on.

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms.

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.”

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile.

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender.

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges.

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.”

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly.

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother.

You feel infinitely closer to him.

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can.

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even.

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks.

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?”

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest.

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.”

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him.

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now?

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his.

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again.

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep.

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth.

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner.

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.”

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again.

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place.

It’s like finally coming home.

#suguru getou x reader #getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou x you #getou suguru x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #cw: omegaverse #cielo's writing!#cielo writes!

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xo-cod · 1 year ago

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imagine first time sex w simon—esp if you’re a virgin. it’d be so so soft (and filled with LOTS of whimpering lol) but it would be such a delicate experience for the both of you 🌹 the after care would be heavenly.

simon taking your virginity!! :")) <33 he's so careful and so attentive (he always is) so soft and cuddly, a literally teddy bear 🥹😮‍💨 (this was very rushed but lmk if you want a more in depth version 👀🫂)

he needs you to be absolutely sure you want him to do this, he needs you to be sure that he is the one you want to share your body with. sex with simon only happens after you both have been together for a while and once he trusts you completely. he's not chasing his pleasure when you both have sex, he's cherishing every single thing you have, every part you offer him. he's hooked onto your taste like a drug, high off you. simon is a passionate lover when it comes to you, that much is already obvious in his day to day life. let alone between the sheets

"you doin' alright lovie?" his voice is so warm and so deep, concern laced with his tone as he gently brings you closer. your pleasure is constantly at the forefront of his head, the last thing he wants is to ever make you feel like it had been too much

"did i hurt you?" he checks you over as his warm hands gently smooth over your body tenderly, as if you're made of glass and you'd splatter under the pressure of his fingertips

"not at all" you chuckle softly. he needs verbal confirmation, a simple nod won't do here. he needs to know that you're okay, especially after something like this. the last thing he wants you to do is ever possibly regret it.

"good" he nods gently, holding you back in his warm embrace as he caresses over your aoft skin. he'll probably run a warm bath for you or help you clean off but for now, in this second he wants nothing more than to listen to your heartbeat as you lay on him <33

#asks #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x reader smut

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jellybonbons · 1 year ago

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Sharing is Caring

ೀ dog hybrid!Leon Kennedy + cat hybrid!Ada Wong

Tags: gn!reader but fem!reader for the nsfw part, 18+ (mdni), pet/owner dynamic, threesome, neck biting, blood, mommy kink, nicknames (mommy, pretty girl/owner, beautiful), cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of sex toys, masturbation (m receiving), sub!reader, dom!Leon, dom!Ada, fluff ending.

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: idk why I wrote this, I've never written a threesome and hybrids so this was a struggle to finish. Huge thanks to @roseglazedlens for proofreading this <33 wouldn’t have done this without you!

You had been feeling lonely lately, and with that, you decided to adopt a hybrid to brighten your days or spice up your life—as per your best friend, since they were the ones who suggested you get one. After saving up for some time, you headed to the pet store, where you met your now-current pet, Ada Wong. Her hair is as smooth as silk, and her ears are adorned with adorable fluffiness that captures your heart in an instant.

cat hybrid!Ada had no problems making herself comfortable at your home since she can adapt to her surroundings easily.

Even though you bought her a bed, she claimed yours as hers, but you’re not complaining if it means that you can cuddle with her every night.

She’s a very independent cat who doesn’t need that much attention.

However, if you’ve been busy the whole day and barely paid her any attention, you can bet you’ll get a scratch or two from her (typical black cat behaviour). It’s also her way of marking you as hers.

She enjoys lounging in the same room as you. If you're working in your office, you’ll find her on the couch nearby, peacefully napping. Just your presence alone brings her a sense of peace and contentment.

If you’re scared of any insects, don’t worry; she’ll kill them for you in a heartbeat.

“Ada! There’s a spider in the bathroom!” “On it.”

She loves getting spoiled by you, whether it be affection, cuddles, or something materialistic. Her favourite gift from you is the red ribbon collar with pearls; she wears it proudly around her neck.

For a while, it had been just you and Ada, sharing your home in quiet companionship. Then, one day, as you returned from work, you stumbled upon dog hybrid!Leon, a forlorn figure, battered and shivering on the streets. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pity as you came across him, so you decided to bring him home. Getting him to come with you was a challenge, but with the promise of a warm bath and a meal, he eventually agreed.

He was sceptical of your home at first compared to Ada, but as he stepped into your house, the smell of your floral candles and the comforting atmosphere enveloped him. The warm and inviting interior, with cosy lighting and subtle traces of both your and Ada’s personal touches, gradually lowered his guard.

While you were preparing a warm bath for him, Ada finally met Leon. When she caught a foreign scent mingling with yours, she became alert. Upon entering the living room and locking eyes with him, her gaze bore into him with a piercing intensity that felt like she was shooting daggers. Leon couldn’t help but notice her intense glare fixed on him, and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the room. Thankfully, you called out for him, and he sprinted to the direction of your voice faster than he ever had before.

dog hybrid!Leon took his time to settle in and get comfortable around you and Ada.

Eventually, he puts his walls down after seeing how you treat Ada with care and gentleness. He’s also lowkey jealous at how you’re spoiling her too much; cue for her to give him a smug smirk.

Surprisingly, he’s very playful and would tug on your shirt every morning for his morning walk or activities in the park, which annoys Ada so much since he’s disturbing her morning cuddles with you.

He's a quiet one who doesn't use words to express his feelings, but his body language says it all. When you praise him, his face is stoic, but you can see his tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Good boy, Leon!” “Hmm.”

Unlike Ada, who marks you with her claws, Leon rubs his scent all over your clothes. He wants the other hybrids to stay away from you every time you leave the house. Dealing with one—Ada—was enough for him.

Other than that, he made sure to hug you tightly and lick your neck before you headed off to work; it’s a daily ritual that you cannot miss.

He’s the definition of scary dog privilege; he’ll give a menacing glare to anyone he considers a threat. He’s all bite, no bark; if he sees someone making you uncomfortable, he’ll quickly step in to protect you.

After a few months of living and tolerating each other, they eventually find common ground in their share desire to cherish and protect you. Now that speaks double trouble. You were peacefully engrossed in a book when suddenly, a commotion erupts from the living room. Annoyed by the disturbance of your precious reading time, you reluctantly set your book aside and make your way to the room to investigate.

“Now, what’s all this commotion about?” You cross your arms tightly over your chest, brows furrow in frustration. You tap your foot impatiently and let out an exasperated sigh as you stare at them. It is a sight to behold, Ada is tugging on Leon’s tail while he playfully pinches her cat ears in a mock battle.

“Are you guys fighting over your toys again? I thought I told both of you to share.” Both share a knowing glance, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. “...why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

NSFW:

One thing leads to another, and now you find yourself at the centre of your recently upgraded king-sized bed. Leon and Ada deftly position you between them, her soft and plump breast snugly meeting yours, while his firm and chiselled chest envelops you from behind, radiating warmth and desire.

“What are you guys doing?” You ask, your voice tinged with scepticism, yet you can’t deny the trace of attraction as well.

“Sharing.” Ada purrs; her tail puffs up in excitement as she licks your face.

Leon roams his hands over your body in a soft yet possessive manner. “That’s right, we have to show our mommy that we know how to share.” He leans down, sinking his sharp canine teeth into the side of your neck, causing a trickle of blood flow.

“W–wait! But this is wrong!” You moan as you attempt to step away from being sandwiched between them; however, Leon has other plans. Instead of releasing you, he pulls you even closer. His possessive embrace and Ada’s fixed gaze cause your cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

You always find them attractive, but this feels so foreign to you—they are literally your pets!

“Hmm? It’s totally normal for the pet and its owner to engage in this kind of activity, pretty girl.” Ada’s hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of your pants, and she swiftly removes them, leaving you in your underwear—burgundy with black lace. “Oh! And you’re wearing my favourite one.” Ada’s ears raise, and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips as her eyes hungrily fix on the way the fabric hugs your cunt.

As anticipation courses through your veins, your body shivers involuntarily. “Relax, mommy, let us take care of you,” Leon murmurs against your skin. He finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it off you, exposing your breast to the cool air. “No bra? God, you’re such a tease.” Leon growls as he pinches your hardened nipple.

“Of course, I have to hold back from pouncing her every time she struts around the house like that." Ada leans down, capturing one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, her teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh as she sucks and nibbles on it.

You let out a whine from the sensation, and your head tilts backwards, resting it on Leon’s shoulder. With a swift motion, Ada positions herself between your legs, and her gaze meets yours with lust. “Can I taste you, beautiful?” Your cheeks have a hint of nervousness as you nod your head in agreement.

Without wasting any more time, Ada goes down on you, pulling your underwear to the side, her mouth finds its way to your most sensitive part. She starts to tease, kitten licking, her tongue laying flat between your folds, slurping and sucking on your clit as she savours the taste of your desire, the velvety texture of her tongue heightening your desires.

As your moans grow louder and more desperate, she increases the intensity. Meanwhile, Leon’s rough hands find their way to your breasts again, kneading and pinching them. You can feel his bulge growing behind your ass as he humps against it, his tail wagging behind him excitedly.

The sensation overwhelms you, with pleasure coursing through your veins as both of them continue their assault on you. Your back arches as Ada finds your sweet spot; her claws grip tightly on your thighs, leaving marks on them but not enough to hurt you.

“Ada! Ada!” You grasp her cat ear tightly with one hand while the other one claws at Leon’s forearm. Your grip on her ear makes her grunt onto your cunt, sending vibrations to it.

“That’s it, mommy; surrender yourself to her.” Leon coos in response, his fingers tucking your hair away from your face and revealing your blissed-out eyes.

With each flick of her tongue and each thrust of her fingers, Ada drives you closer to the edge. Leon senses your impending release, and he brings his middle and index fingers to your lips. “Suck on it.”

You nod your head and suck on his fingers eagerly. The sensation of your tongue swirling around them and the tantalising, moist sounds emanating from you and Ada causes a bead of saliva to form at the corner of his mouth while his cock strains against his boxers. Lifting you off his lap with one hand, he hastily pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his cock from its confines.

That momentarily catches Ada off guard, but she continues to pleasure you with her tongue and fingers, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure. The closer you get to your release, the tighter your hold was on her dark locks. She hisses in pain against your cunt, Leon notices her discomfort and gently loosens your grip on her hair. “Easy, pretty owner, not too much.”

Your apology is muffled by Leon’s fingers, and you extend your hand, offering a gentle caress to her ears as a silent apology. “It’s okay, beautiful." She breathes against your thigh and gives it a light peck, her voice filled with gentleness. “Just give in to it and come for us.”

You struggle to stifle yet another moan that threatens to escape. Leon withdraws his fingers from your mouth, leaving behind a glistening trail of saliva that connects both your lips and his fingers. “Don’t be shy now, mommy.” He firmly cups your face with his other hand, his fingers exerting a strong grip. “You think we don’t hear you late at night when you play with your toys?” He let out a growl, and his touch suddenly becomes less gentle but rather commanding—clearly jealous of them.

Fuck.

You are becoming increasingly overstimulated, and his jealousy ignites an intense arousal within you. Ada’s skillful touch and her tongue send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response to the pleasure as you squeeze her head with your thighs, a subtle but unmistakable expression that you are closer to your climax.

His hand, still slick with your saliva, strokes his own cock while the other explores your breast with an insistent touch, evoking a deep, primal moan of pleasure from deep within him. Ada’s tail curls with anticipation as you rock your hips towards her face, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. With an intense release, you climax, your moans echoing in the room. She eagerly laps up your juices and skillfully uses her fingers to prolong your pleasure, ensuring your satisfaction.

“Oh, god,” he gasps as he hears your moan, stealing a glance at Ada’s face, glistening with your arousal. The sight is enough to push him over the edge, and he climaxes right then and there. His cum coats your back, and some stray droplets find their way into your hair.

As the intense waves of pleasure subside, your heavy breathing begins to slow, and you collapse onto the soft, inviting mattress, your limbs heavy and your eyelids drooping. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Ada meticulously grooming herself with her tongue, savouring your taste, while Leon kicks off his sweatpants from his ankle, ready to cuddle with you. He doesn’t even bother to clean you up, wanting his cum to stick to you.

“So, did I do a great job of sharing?” Ada nuzzles closer to you; her body forms a beautiful crescent, fitting perfectly against your side. “Yeah, you both did,” you chuckle, and you gently stroke her hair. “But did you come?” concern etches itself onto your face.

“You don’t have to worry about me, beautiful. Unlike a certain pup, I take care of my owner’s pleasure before my own.” Ada’s eyes narrow at Leon in disapproval, and her ears flatten against her head.

Leon huffs dismissively, rolling his eyes, and then snuggles closer to you. His tail gently drapes over your stomach, and he snuggles into your neck, seeking comfort and closeness. That just flares up her irritation. Before she can unleash her claws on him, you intervene by encircling your other arm around her, gently pulling her closer. “Okay, less fighting, more cuddling,” you propose with a smile.

Both nod in agreement, and as Ada nestles her head on your arm, a contented purr escapes her while her previous anger slowly dissipates. Whereas Leon, embracing a playful mood, makes an attempt to monopolise your attention. He entwines his legs with yours, draping an arm over your chest and casting a smug smirk in Ada's direction, his tail tapping lightly on your torso—a sweet revenge for all the times she'd stolen your attention from him. Ada's response is swift as she hisses at Leon and extends her claws in a challenge.

You release an exhausted sigh and massage your temples. It looks like it's going to be a long night—have fun having two pets who are fiercely horny loyal and protective of you.

#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚#leon kennedy x reader #ada wong x reader #dog hybrid!leon kennedy #cat hybrid!ada wong #leon kennedy smut #ada wong smut #resident evil

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 11 months ago

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I loved your peter vs Alastor story, can we possibly get a part two? Like maybe Peter is looking for her and she hears about it through the news or something from missing persons reports. She’s changed her name and Alastor has told her there’s nothing to worry about, but keeps having dreams about Peter finding her? You can choose how it ends!

A/N: I didn’t think people would want a part two to that but since you asked you shall receive! I love writing about Yanderes going against each other it’s so much fun 🤗. I watched the first four episodes of Hazbin Hotel and guys i LOVE IT SO MUCH. I’m so glad I waited for this show, and I’m so glad other people are enjoying it as much as I am. Special thanks to @a-bookworms-teashop or also known as @forbidden-sunlight, for helping me with this short story! As per usual we all know I like cliffhangers so expect a part three soon <<33 happy reading & enjoy!

Warnings: violence, obsessive tendencies, mentions of blood, lots of manipulation, talks of mental abuse, lots of dark content ahead!!

Songs you can listen too while reading: Close to you by Rihanna. Slipping through my fingers by ABBA. Desire by Megan Myers. Love on the Brain by Rihanna. Forget her by Jeff Buckley. Meet me in the hallway by Harry Styles. The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo.

Part 1

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Forget her

Living in New Orleans was nice. People were always so kind, and everyone was so welcoming. Getting a new name was easy, surprisingly. The government didn’t make it hard to run away from psycho ex boyfriends who didn’t know how to take a hint. Living with Alastor was nice. He was always a gentlemen, a gentle man, a good lover too. He made sure to never treat you the way Peter did.

In fact he was quite the opposite with you. Inviting you out to parties with him, keeping you out of the public eye as to not bring the wrong type of attention around. Everything felt like it was starting to get better. He would bring you flowers, take you to work with him even, or work from home. Alastor was nothing short of the perfect boyfriend. In fact he was perfect and more.

But lately, something seemed to have you on edge. He had been fidgety. Checking his phone constantly but always reassuring you with the polite smile. A reassuring one he tried to keep on, but you saw right through. He was hiding something and you wanted to know what.

According to Husk, Peter had since moved out of the apartment he had been living in, with no notice too. He had gone completely ghost. There was no sign of him anywhere, according to your knowledge. It was a Saturday evening when it had all happened. When your intuition had finally proved to be right.

“You said I wouldn’t be seen.” You said, the article about an appearance the two of you had made up on your phone. Alastor was walking through the kitchen, tossing various ingredients into a large pot, his jambalaya coming along nicely.

“ Dear please, there hasn’t been any sign of you for months. I doubt the bastard has even seen it, let alone have any access to technology.” He brushed you off with a chuckle, sliding the ingredients off the cutting board and into the pot. You sighed and put your phone down on the counter. Maybe you were being over paranoid. But ever since reading the article, a chill had ran up your spine that didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. Alastor noticed you looking off to the side, lost in your own mind. He reaches out, hands brushing your sides gently. “Why don’t you take a bath, hm? Ill even set it up for you. What do you say dear?” He asks calmly, a hand on your lower back, ushering you out of the kitchen and past the open living room, making your way down the hall to the bathroom.

“ Alright fine. But we need to talk about this later.” You say, and he responds to you with a kiss on your cheek. You go to your shared bedroom, going through the large walk in closet to find a change of clothes for after your bath. The water is running in the bathroom, the smell of fragrances light on your senses. You make your way back to the bathroom to see Alastor leaning over the tub slightly, candles already lit on the sides of the tub to allow you to relax. There’s your favorite book next to a cup of wine, along with the radio playing light jazz. Everything is perfect, as it should be, and for a moment you can forget the feeling of strained eyes on you. You can forget it all as you’re embraced by a man who loves you. Who truly cares.

“ Take your time darling. I must run out for a bit to get some extra ingredients. Will you be fine without me?” He asks, taking the robe from you as you sink down into the tub, eyeing you carefully, enough to give you butterflies. You smile, one of his favorites and nod, reaching to the side to pick up your glass of wine, the red stains your lips slightly as you pull the cup away.

“I think Ill be okay, thank you love. Be quick please, I might just nap here.” You say jokingly. Alastor smiles, folding your robe up neatly in his hands before nodding to you lightly. He leans down to kiss you, a soft tender kiss, before leaving you in the bathroom alone. It’s when you hear the front door shut that you sigh, now knowing he’s gone. The water is just right, just warm enough on your skin for you to rest your eyes a bit.

A bit turns into an hour, and when you hear a loud glass shatter from the kitchen is when you wake up from your nap. You hadn’t been serious about sleeping in the tub, but mistakes happen. You quickly pull at the drain, the water slowly slipping down as you grab your towel and get yourself dressed, sliding a simple nightgown on before stepping out of the bathroom. “Alastor?” You call, but you’re met with silence. Your vision is hazy, the steam from the water seeming to create some sort of film over your sight, but you manage. Walking down the hall and into the living area, you see a vase shattered on the ground. What you don’t expect to see, is a distraught Peter standing across from you.

“Guess again Baby.” He says with a smile. He sighs and takes in your appearance, eyes completely devouring your appearance. “What are you doing here?” You ask, panic written all over your face.

“How did you find me?” You ask again. Peter tuts at you, standing straight up, revealing just how tall he really was in comparison to you. He has a folder in his hand, one he throws on the floor in between the two of you, and it just barely touches your feet as it slides across the floor. “What is this?” You ask, eyeing him closely. He grins, hands behind his back as he watches you pick up the folder.

“Your perfect boyfriend.” He responds. The pictures inside reveal themselves before you can even process whats going on. Pictures of Alastor and you about in the city. Ones of the two of you at home, the two of you at dinner. Intimate moments, things that were supposed to be private. All laid out right in front of you. A picture of Alastor and you at a friends wedding. His face was burned out of the photo, but you knew who it was. The more photos you looked through the more you found. Magazine clippings of Alastor with you in the town. Paparazzi seeing you both together at parties, dancing around each other like no one was watching but the worlds eyes were on you. Peters eyes were on you.

“He told me-“

“Told you what?” Peter snickered, stepping closer, the broken glass crunching under his feet. You kept going through photos, one right after the other. Then, one really caught your attention. Mimzy. She had been so obsessed with Alastor and how you were no good for him. Now, in front of you was a photo, the two of them with their arms around each other, almost like lovers, but not quite friends. How long ago was this? Why didnt he tell you about this?

“He doesn’t love you. Not the way I do.” Peter said, stepping closer, arms raising for a hug. “ Let’s just go home. We can put this all behind us. I can forgive you.” He said, a smile on his face. He was still the same. He thought he had done no wrong. He lowers his arms when he sees you don’t come closer, but instead reaches for your hands, pulling them to his chest. “What do you need? Money? I can give you that. If- if you want more freedom we can go out! We can do whatever you want-“ He pleaded, eyes begging for yours to look at him. “Please, just come back. He took you away from where you were safe. Now you have everyone judging you, when you don’t need that.” He said, hand cupping your chin to force you to look at him. “Are you really happy here?” He asks.

It feels like time freezes for a moment. Were you really happy? All the press, Alastor always being gone or out at parties. The social events. The liquor, the drugs. The dancers and the crowds of people together. With Alastor, it was always a party. But with Peter, things were different.

With Peter, you were quiet. Alone but without the drugs, the partying and the social interaction. With Peter you really never lifted a finger, not like you physically could. Peter always brought gifts home, even if he was upset with you. He always did laundry, had things neat and tidy, or as much as they could in the small apartment. With Peter, you were taken care of. With Peter, you lived a calm life.

Well, at least that was how he saw it.

With Peter, there was a constant fear surrounding you. Suffocating you. He never let you live, took away your freedom and your life to keep you tied down to him. He had hurt you on multiple occasions, raising a hand to the person he swore to love so dearly. He had threatened to kill your family, your friends, anyone who stood in between the two of you. Peter didn’t love you, no, he was obsessed. Did you really want that life back?

“I.. I am happy here.” You finally said, pulling yourself away from Peter. His eyes looked defeated. He looked, complex. In a matter of seconds his demeanor changed entirely, standing tall in his anger, his pride.

“Happy? Happy with a man who took you from me?!” He yelled, lunging forward and caging you between him and the wall. His eyes looked manic, like something had snapped. It was only then you noticed him reaching into his pocket, glass shard in hand. “I told you what would happen if you ever left.” He said, hand in the air as the shard came down quickly. A slice to your cheek had you sliding down the wall, tears streaming down your face as blood ran down your neck, fingers shakily holding onto yourself for some support.

“Peter please-“ you pleaded with a whisper. Even after all these months away from him he still managed to make you feel so small.

“I see what’s going on.” He said, chuckling a bit. He crouches down, eye level with you now. “He has you completely brainwashed doesn’t he. I’m sure he-“ He stops when he hears the front lock being turned. The door opens to reveal a humming Alastor, eyes shut as he hums a song to himself softly. He turns to lock the door, before turning back around, finally opening his eyes to see the sight of Peter and you on the ground.

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Peter looks panicked, Alastor looks, unreadable, and you look, frightened. Alastor drops the bag of groceries, and before you can process what’s happening there’s a knife being drawn from under his shirt sleeve. Not a large one, but a size big enough to kill a man. To kill Peter. Peter stands quickly, clutching the glass shard in his hand so tight he begins to cut himself. The two meet in the middle, Peter swinging to try to slice Alastors neck. Something about the way Peter misses, the way Alastor inhales sharply. His eyes widen but in a different way. One you’d never seen from him before. There’s a difference in the way his eyes gloss over, the shine in them just a bit brighter than before.

Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #alastor #peter vs alastor #ybf peter x reader #peter your boyfriend #your boyfriend peter x reader #ybf peter #yandere peter x reader #yandere alastor #Yandere alastor x reader

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