#i imagine this is tied to one of those. ALSO

[ablobwhowrites]

I had this y/n idea as I was watching the justice league series.

Like a y/n who is a vampire but maybe lives with the Wayne's cause bat family and stuff or something else I'll think of later but as people think vampires are mysterious and powerful but y/n isn't any of those things yet. They are more like a big sweetheart to people. They sometimes wish to be a regular human so they are able to fit in, seeing people out in the sun enjoying its warm that y/n wishes to bath in a well as everyone else but they also enjoy the moon and stars but man made and made by nature. They always regret having to drink blood to survive but has mostly been trying to survive on human food but does have to force themselves to get blood but not enough to kill someone but to sustain themselves but Everytime they try, they always back down and try to find another source.

Being found by Batman when they where basically starving to death without any human blood was somewhat of a blessing and a curse as they kinda stay in the bat cave for a while as Bruce was trying to find out what y/n was until he found out that bascially y/n was on the brink of death but after helping them. They kinda owe Bruce their life as in vampire code (also not wanting to sleep in a cold abandoned wearhouse again) plus meeting the bat family was alright just kinda weird at first because y/n was kinda a stranger that was found by Bruce but now has a stronger relationship with the family as Damian, Jason, Tim and Dick see y/n as their sibling and Bruce seeing y/n as his child who can turn into a bat. But they do keep y/n away from the windows when the curtains aren't closed. also thinking of y/n having the classic long pretty hair but they sometimes hate it cause they have to wear a hair ties a lot because it always gets in their face. Also one hundred percent believe that y/n has those weird reflective eyes that animals have when light is shined on them or something like that so when Damian was up getting a late night snack he just saw y/n in the dark making something and paused when getting caught by Damian (they had to share their late night snack with Damian) also think that they got a bed with those bed canopy's but when Alfred checks on y/n in the morning finds them either in their bat or human form hanging upside down asleep.

Y/n doesn't smile or try to laugh showing their teeth much as many times it has scared people who see them. So they don't like their teeth than much so always tries to do a close mouth smile or when they laugh try to cover their mouth or look away. Also I think y/n never knew their biological parents and think they might never find who they are, as they image they could have been born human than they would have so many friends and maybe even get to explore the world without fearing the sun would burn them or to killed because they are seen as a monster.

I imagine they meet superman by accident as they snuck out for a bit to spread their wings and fly a bit before heading back and somehow bump into superman because to superman seeing a person on the edge of a tall building would be concerning but y/n got scared seeing superman flying at them and fell off their ledge but transformed into a bat and got away. And superman bringing it up to Batman at the justice league headquarters and Batman is all like 'y/n is going to in being trouble when I get home'

(that's all I got RN but if you guys like it. Please don't be shy and request your ideas for this y/n or any kind but for now I'll see y'all later and please stay safe and drink water!)

[sulumuns-dootah]

I just saw the upcoming Christmas card with Luci and I'm shocked, how come the rest of the healers are present at my Christmas dinner??? They are turned away and tied up, but they can still hear everything and use their wild imagination. How would the demons of Paradise Lost react to this scene?

Paradise Lost demons' thoughts during the Lucifer(Blow) card

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi, sorry this took a while U.U I sadly don't have the card, so I'm kinda assuming what happens during it T-T

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I think it's safe to start off by saying that they are ALL HARD :D

Morax

Above everything, Morax is content that his king is happy

And you already know, that if Lucifer praises you for your skills or anything, Morax's dick is twitching like crazy

Still, I imagine that he's just there to be there and mostly tries to zone out to give those two behind him at least some privacy

       ༺☆༻

Gamigin

Gamigin is jittery asf

On one hand he's also excited for his big bro

But on the other, he wishes it was him instead

It's kinda hard for him to not try and at least look over his shoulder so he can think about it later on his own

       ༺☆༻

Buer

'Think happy thoughts... Happy thoughts...'

Just like Morax, he's trying to give you two as much privacy as he can

Unlike all the others, however, it doesn't even cross his mind to look over his shoulder

Patient-doctor confidentiality and all that

       ༺☆༻

Marbas

Oh boy

It takes all Marbas' strength to not turn around and cure your Christmas Cold on his own

He doesn't know whether he should try to zone out like Morax and Buer or if he should listen for every wet squelch and gagging sound coming from you

Listening to those sweet sound makes it harder for him to restrain himself, but he'd hate himself if he were to miss any one of them

[tinytennisskirt]

Behind Closed Doors

socialite good girl! reader x patrick zweig

summary: heavily based on the lyrics of behind closed doors by lana del rey, patrick zweig takes genuine interest in one of the 'matches' his parents have thrown at him to try and rope him back to high society. she takes him and herself by surprise, finding she's not all spoiled, perfect, and innocent. nobody is rooting for them, but they don't care. if it feels good. then it can't be bad. behind closed doors.

part one: reader goes through the motions of her first date with patrick, her first cigarette, and the debrief that follows suit. warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, kissing, slight corruption vibe

When Patrick pulled out his pack of cigarettes in the restaurant parking lot, you knew for certain he wasn’t your usual type of guy. As if the date itself didn’t already tell you so. His wandering eyes, his hands tapping the table, the way he asked to split the bill. He was an asshole in a way that you could tolerate for the first time in your life. And he was gorgeous, tall, with nice biceps and a pretty nose. He had curls you stared at quite a bit and interestingly blue eyes that didn’t seem all that blue in the lighting of the parking lot.

You just kept noting that he was nothing like the other guys your parents would send you out with. The setups were usually awful, but with Patrick here, there was no beige sweater tied around his shoulders like a white-collared asshole with a business dream. He was Patrick Zweig, in a dark green sweater and jeans and a cigarette between his lips and he was leaning against his car, smoke blowing in your face. He was new and it was refreshing and it felt… dangerous. He didn’t mention the stock market, he said you looked nice in your dress, and never in your life had you ever wanted to remove your clothes faster. That was bad.

It was dangerous because one, you were a virgin, and two, he was not the kind of guy you’d dreamed about losing that to. You pictured a Prince Charming, groomed, dress shirt, whiskey neat, and in a setting of pretty rose petals, not red, but pink and romantic candlelight. Here Patrick was in front of you destroying that vision. With every word that slipped his lips, those pink rose petals turned red. The lush sheets you’d imagined turned into the backseat of his car. Prince Charming turned into a twenty-four-year-old tennis player. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears, “Do they taste how they smell?” You asked him, tilting your head just slightly to the right, your eyes wide and unknowing. You reminded him a little bit of a deer, or a kitten, or something innocent. It was something about him being four years older, which wasn’t that much now. But he could see that little difference. And you were shorter than him, which wasn’t helpful in your case, but then again nor were those curious eyes. Patrick smiled just a little bit at the question. 

“The cigarettes?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Worse.” He nodded. You were the daughter of some family friend, some nose-upturned chair member on some sort of big fucking social pyramid that his own mother was also at the top of. You were the daughter of that high society, so looking at you all doe-eyed in your pink dress, it was only fitting for Patrick to fall into character and ask you, “Do you want to try?” He coughed just a little asking it, but smirked all the same. 

He liked the way you looked a little startled by his ask. Your eyelashes fluttered, it was cute. He’d played nice the entire time he was out with you, asked all the questions you ask the heir of two socialites, and listened to all the answers. He couldn’t believe after so much time away from the scene he’d want to hear about Saturdays at the Country Club, but you were that sort of girl and for once, he didn’t mind it—something about you. You blinked hard and you giggled just a little, “Oh, I- don’t- it’s…” 

“Just an offer.” He nodded, enjoying how flustered it made you. He wondered what else he could do to produce that sort of reaction. 

“I-um- I’ve never- I don’t know how,” you admit. Patrick felt a smirk tug at his lips. He felt a little evil and he knew that he was, too. You weren’t that kind of girl and he knew it to his core that giving you a cigarette was an act rooted in a bit of corruption, but it was so cute how you just couldn’t say no. Some part of him would give anything to have that pretty pink lipgloss on the end of his cigarette. And the end of something else as well. “Should I?” 

His smirk broke free and his eyes met yours as he blew smoke out into the air again. “Only if you want to.” He nodded, chuckling. “You don’t have to. You won’t like it.” He held it out toward you and you brought your hand up and down twice before you took it, turning it around—perfect French tips on a burning cigarette. You looked at him, some form of determination taking over that curious look.

“What do I do? Can I do it wrong?” 

“Inhale like you’re taking a deep breath, hold and exhale.” He said, stepping just the slightest bit closer to you. He realized that his replies were coming off a little short, unintentionally. He was used to the stance of it when he went out with other entitled girls. You were coming off different, he blinked off his bias and smiled at you. “Can’t do it wrong, you might just not get any of the…” He fixed the way you were holding it, “-Smoke.”

You laughed a little nervously, “Mmm, no. I can’t. Take it back.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure. Kind of. Could I get hooked?” 

He stepped closer again, “Depends on if you have an addictive personality.” 

“How do I know-” 

“It’s burning out, princess,” he said, pointing to the cigarette. The nickname nearly caught you more off guard than the cigarette did. He watched your lips part just slightly. He knew you were different. “I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.” He reached forward and you narrowed your eyebrows. He backed off, “Alright, alright.” 

His words echoed around your head. The nickname princess was one you resented yet somehow, from his lips it was even worse in the best way. How he was the son of two people whom you respected very much for their cleanly little dinner parties and charity organizations and white-wearing yacht parties, you didn’t know. He was so… opposite. So it was easy to be the opposite of who you were as you warily raised the cigarette to your lips. 

Patrick pressed his grin into a straight line, his eyes carefully watching as you looked at it, then him. He tried to keep his smile down to not intimidate you any further. He offered it almost to taunt you, but here you were, with it raised to your lips. A soft, pretty girl in a pink dress, even your shoes went against the look of a cigarette in your hands. You inhaled just slightly, the smoke didn’t make it very far, burning harshly against the back of your throat. You coughed immediately, head-turning away from him. Your heart was beating fast, the adrenaline of doing something wrong was coursing through your veins in a fiery hot struggle to breathe again. It wouldn’t stop, it hurt, it burned. Getting clean air seemed impossible- you choked.

Patrick stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder just bracingly, chuckling at how hard you were coughing and how hard you were trying to stop yourself from coughing. “You’re okay, breathe,” he was trying not to smile or laugh but he couldn’t help himself. The daughter of a pedestal socialite was coughing up her lungs because of him. He just knew your parents had made a mistake letting you go out with him. It wasn't the first time they’d thrown a good girl in his face to try and lure him back to his ‘rightful lifestyle’, but out of every girl, you were the only one to actually go against all of your good girl training and try. He liked that. 

You could not catch your breath. It still burned in your chest and in your throat. Patrick’s hand on your shoulder was a small help for comfort, his body so close to yours, your cough faded out but your heart was still beating hard. Fuck a headrush, you were feeling the adrenaline and the rush of something bad. Something wrong. His hand still on your shoulder to keep you steady and offer some semblance of comfort, you could meet his eyes now and in the height and heat of everything, you figured you had already went against your character- why not some more? 

You didn’t see it coming yourself, the way you acted so abruptly. You moved spontaneously into him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Out of all the things to happen, a cigarette turning into a kiss was an unexpected move. The cigarette hit the pavement, sparks bouncing across the pavement as your lips connected with his, both arms around his neck now. His strong hands, stronger than any that had ever been on you, held your waist tight and kept you close, pressed against him. He didn’t see it coming either, but the way you kissed, he’d never complain. 

You were a good kisser, he noted. Good, too good. At twenty though, you’d made out with enough potential guys to know how. He grinned against your lips a little evilly as he let his hands slip over your hips, the silk of your dress making it easy for his hands to slide down over your ass. You tasted like strawberry lip gloss and as his tongue dipped into your mouth, you found he tasted like smoke and bad choices, but god, it felt so good. 

He moved a step, pressing your back against the side of his car. Your hands slid up into his hair to pull just gently on his curls that you’d admired all dinner. It was quite possibly one of the most exciting, thrilling, and invigorating kisses of your lifetime. One of the best of his as well, dwelling on the fact he had his tongue in the mouth of such a sweet girl. Sweet in more ways than one now, he noted, squeezing your ass just gently before having his hand travel back up your hips, back to your waist. Not once did either one of you come up for air as the cigarette on the ground burned out for real this time. 

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“The Zweigs don’t have a single photo of him around. Every time I go over with my parents, the walls are lined with vacation photos and paintings by prestigious artists, a new one every time, but never anything to do with him. Hell, I haven’t even seen a baby photo. They hide him well. What does he look like?” Your friend Mia asked, shopping bags bustling against each other as you walked through the mall. 

“Dying to know how it went, too,” your other friend Olive added, her extra-detailed Starbucks drink in hand. “Spill.” 

“Okay, okay,” you smiled. “So he’s tall. Not abnormally tall, but tall, like over six feet.” 

“The Zweigs are so short though,” Olive replied. “No way he’s anything more than five foot eight, I don’t believe it.” 

“Believe it. He was up here,” you gestured above you to where his height would be. Both girls grinned a little wider. “He has shorter hair, but it’s a little bit curly, dark brown. It’s a very Zweig brown. But god, he’s gorgeous. Like asshole gorgeous, too gorgeous. To me, at least. Big nose, blue-ish eyes.” 

“That’s your type.” Mia agreed. “I need a photo of him now. You feel like sharing?” 

“Dreamboat. I love big noses.” 

You grinned, “Me too. Okay, but his smile, I have to note. His grin was crazy, he has dimples like big dimples and I couldn’t stop staring when he smiled.” 

“I love dimples, my god, he sounds great, why do they hide him? I want to meet him.” Olive pretended to swoon as you turned the corner and into the bookstore. “So what happened?” 

You picked up a copy of some Shirley Jackson book, looking over the cover as you spoke, “Well, he’s not like the Zweigs at all. I mean, off the bat, his elbows were on the table. And he was charming and a little bit witty but very down to earth, talked to me about the last yacht party and we talked a bit about tennis, he’s a tennis player.” You walked over to the candles, the girls were so invested in your story they didn’t stop to smell any of them. “He’s not like any guy from our scene, no sweater vests or dreams to be his dad’s mini-me, it’s hot. It was hot. Sweater and jeans hot.” 

“I’m still hung up on the elbows thing,” Olive chuckled. “Maybe I’m just religious.” 

“Or anal,”  Mia giggled. “It’s bad, it’s rude, but maybe redeemable though I hate when guys wear jeans, it feels wrong. Okay, sorry, continue.” 

“So when dinner was over we split the bill, I’ve never done anything like it. Half and half. And then we go outside and we stand by his car and he smokes.” 

“Smokes? What, cigarettes?” You were turned away from the view of both your friends and the disgust on their faces. “Split the bill? As in made you pay?” 

You nodded, picking up a candle scented like baked goods, “Mhm. I didn’t mind, but it was strange. And yes, cigarettes. Oh, and I tried it.” You looked up at them for a split second. The two girls were posed in shock. “Okay, well, hardly, but I still tried.” 

“You smoked a cigarette?” Olive questioned, her face still puzzled and a little disgusted. “Did he force you?” 

“He offered. I only tried to inhale once and when I did I coughed forever but he was really sweet about it, put a hand on my arm and everything.” You rebutted. “Then we kissed… a bit.” 

Mia shook her head, “We’ll return back to a few of those points- How was the kiss? Was it good? Is he good at it?” She reshuffled the way she was holding all her shopping bags, moving past displays of stacked books. Olive, though still grossed out, seemed just as intrigued. 

You couldn’t help but hide your face, giggling just a little, “Really good, actually. Like perfect. He kisses with tongue, but not too much. Tasted like smoke. His hands were on my waist, he grabbed my ass, I’ve never had anyone grab my ass like that, it sent chills through my body.” 

“God, you’re so untouched,” Mia giggled. “Just wait until you get the other chills. Sometimes I forget you’re a virgin.” 

“That’s enough,” Olive grinned. “You’ve barely had sex yourself, Mary Magdalene.” You rolled your eyes, paying attention to another shelved book while they bickered until Olive cut back in. “But you’re not seeing him again, right? Like ew.” 

“Patrick?” You turned. 

She nodded, “Yeah. The kiss was probably great and he sounds hot, but you’re not seeing him again? Like- you literally smoked because of him, do you know how bad that is? And splitting the bill is so… so unfitting for you. The elbows on the table and the cigarette, Y/N… What?” 

Mia nodded too. “He might be a Zweig, but now you know why they hide him. He sounds cheap and a little trashy. I mean if you’re smoking at least make it a cigar, I mean, where’s the class? Did he even drive a good car?” 

“It was a normal car.” 

Olive put her drink down to gently brace your upper arms, “Y/N, this guy and his normal car are not for you. You’re a Y/L/N, why would you settle for some cigarette-smoking-elbows-on-the-table-split-the-bill black sheep? That’s so not you and god, if your parents found out, you’d be grounded for two years. And you even kissed him, that’s crazy. With tongue? Ass grabbing on the first date, tell me you’re following.” 

“I’m following, I just- hm. He was fine otherwise.” 

Mia frowned, “You’re hearing yourself? He was fine otherwise?”

“He was! He’s a good guy, he listens. He’s nice, drove me back to my dorm and everything.”You nodded. “And he’s a really good kisser like you wouldn’t believe. And I’m not opposed to having my ass grabbed-” 

“Y/N,” Mia whined. “He’s not it just because he’s different. You can find differences in a good-mannered guy. One who doesn’t smoke and one who drives something nice.” She nodded. “Like- Oh my god, Olive, we could set her up with Matty Bronson.” 

Olive gasped, tapping Mia on the arm. “He’s exactly that! Say no more, I have his number, he slipped it to me when I saw him the other day on campus.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. You loved your friends but sometimes they just didn’t get it. How could they? They never questioned their lifestyle, they never thought twice about all the high society coming out parties and summer vacation houses. They were also a little clueless- Matty Bronson had liked Mia all through high school and into the second year of college. There was no way now that you’d end up with him.

You picked up another book and read the back of it as you thought about the plans you’d already made to see Patrick again tomorrow night. This time, he picked the place. It was a thrilling thought, but after what they’d both just said, you knew maybe you shouldn’t tell them that you were seeing him again.

PART ONE > PART TWO

[fear-is-truth]

ok hear me out the evans with reader who has an oral fixation

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… and your oral fixation.ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ james patrick march‧ kai anderson

a/n: um. idk if u meant the normal kind or the sucking dick kind so i’m assuming it’s the former...

⟣ tags ‧ nsfw for kai | gn! reader

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

he’d think it’s kind of endearing, like when you absentmindedly chew on pens or nibble your fingers while lost in thought.

might lowkey encourage it because he loves seeing you relaxed or focused. he’d think it’s cute when you’re twirling a straw between your lips or biting the corner of a snack wrapper.

boy has a filthy mind and he would imagine the beautiful possibilities with your oral fixation.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would be so understanding and sweet about it, no judgment at all. he’d notice your little habits early on and immediately start thinking of ways to help.

he’d carry around toothpicks, gum, or hard candy in his pocket, just for you.

whenever you’re chewing on something (like your nails or a pen), he’d gently take it from you. “don’t wanna see you hurt yourself, y’know?”

would even try to incorporate your fixation into little sweet gestures. like, he’d hand you a lollipop and say, “thought of you when i saw this at the store.”

he’d never call it weird or make you feel bad; instead, he’d see it as one of those unique little things that make you you.

if you’re playing with his fingers or nibbling on his shirt collar absentmindedly, he’d just smile and let you. “you’re somethin’ else, darlin’.”

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

would think your oral fixation is the cutest thing ever. he wouldn’t even question it; he’d just roll with it like the golden retriever boyfriend he is.

kyle would quietly watch out for signs that you’re stressed or anxious, knowing your fixation might be a coping mechanism. he’d always be ready to distract or comfort you when needed.

if you chew on his hoodie strings, he’d chuckle softly and let you. even if it means walking around with damp hoodie ties afterward.

if he notices you fiddling with random objects to chew on, he’d gently offer alternatives. “here, try this instead,” handing you a piece of gum.

he’d probably start carrying around little things like gummy candy or mints just for you.

he’s just the kind of guy who sees your quirks as something to adore, not fix.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james would initially raise an eyebrow at your oral fixation, finding it a bit unladylike, but the fact that it’s you doing it makes him oddly charmed. “my dear, such habits are unbecoming, yet somehow you make them… endearing.”

because he’s a world-class simp for you.

he’d absolutely try to redirect the habit into something more “sophisticated.” he’d offer you cigars, not because he expects you to actually smoke them but because it amuses him.

he’d also introduce you to those elegant, vintage cigarette holders—the long, fancy ones used by old hollywood starlets.

would keep an assortment of expensive hard candies or licorice in crystal jars around the hotel just for you.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would probably shame you about your oral fixation, calling it “childish” or “immature,” “what are you, a teething infant?”

if he’s truly invested in you, he’d dive into the psychology of it, trying to figure out why you do it via pinky power. ask evasive questions.

there’s no way he’d let you chew on his hoodie strings.

instead, he’d offer something that benefits him. “you need something to suck on? here,” he’d say, sliding two of his fingers into your mouth with a knowing smirk.

would lowkey enjoy the control of indulging your fixation on his terms. he’d use that as an excuse to throat-train you. work on that gag reflex of yours.

at the end of the day, he’d see your oral fixation as something to manipulate, explore, and (occasionally) accommodate.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[delulustateofmind]

TW: Older Professor Yandere x College Student Reader, Abuse of Power, Spanking, Fingering, Manipulation, Infidelity. MDNI

A/n: This could be awful, but the brain worms in my hungover little noggin were munching away at this idea. Also, I thought dead dove was a universal term last night, and I had to (mortifyingly) explain what it meant to my friends 👍 and I feel like I definitely overexplained it. Enjoy!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Thinking about controversial older yanderes... Like a professor in his 40s, married, with a couple of kids. You know the type. The kind who’s got everything—tenure, three published books, a whole career built on being the guy everyone respects. The guy who should really know better.

But then there’s you. Poor little nineteen-year-old you, sitting in the front row of his lecture hall, looking up at him with those big, wide, puppy-dog eyes. It’s barely the first day, and you’re already turning to the person next to you, asking if he’s going to go over the syllabus. He’s not. That’s something you should figure out on your own. But the way you looked so lost and helpless—God, it just did something to him.

He knows it’s wrong. He’s married. He has kids. A reputation to uphold. So why can’t he stop thinking about how you’d look with those pretty lips of yours wrapped around his cock? Why is he willing to risk everything he’s worked for just to have you?

It starts small. He tells himself it’s harmless. He watches you, admires the way you fumble through class. But it’s not enough. He’s always been a man who takes what he wants. So, when you turn in your first big paper, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

“AI-generated,” he says, shaking his head like it pains him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.”

You’re a mess, practically in tears, insisting you worked so hard on it. You did. Hours, maybe days of effort, all for him to dismiss it in one breath. But he just sits there, palms pressed together like he’s some kind of saint, telling you his hands are tied. “It’s academic integrity,” he says, like he’s not already imagining you on your knees.

You’re begging him for another chance. And, well, he’s a reasonable guy. Of course, he’ll help. “Why don’t you assist me with my research?” he offers. “It’s a great experience. We’ll get that grade sorted out.”

So, there you are. Alone with him in his lab most days, where his hands are always just a little too familiar. Brushing your hip as you reach for a chemical or guiding your hand over the keyboard when you “mess up” the data entry. And when he loosens the cap on a reagent just enough for it to spill, you’re flustered, stripping out of your stained clothes while he promises he’s not looking.

Except, of course, he is. His phone is propped up on the desk, recording every second. For “security reasons,” he says, but the truth is obvious.

You just keep messing up, though. The numbers are wrong, the experiments fail, the code has errors. Every mistake adds up until he finally sighs, exasperated. “I really hate to do this,” he says, sitting you down like a child about to be scolded. “But I think we need to address this another way.”

Next thing you know, you’re over his lap, his rough hand spanking your ass while his fingers slide into your dripping cunt. “You don’t want an academic violation on your record, do you?” he murmurs, voice low, while you sob out apologies. “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

The slick sounds of your body betray you, loud and lewd as he works you to your first orgasm. His hand is soaked, his palm stinging from the impact of spanking you. And he can’t help but notice how tight you are, tighter than anything he’s felt since his wife’s virginity all those years ago.

By the time he lets you up, your legs are shaky, your thighs sticky with slick. He’s already thinking about what he’ll do next time—because there will be a next time. You’ll be in his office tomorrow, lips wrapped around his cock like he imagined on that very first day.

Maybe, if you’re good, he’ll bump your grade up to an A. Or maybe he’ll fail you, just to make sure you stick around next semester. After all, who are they going to believe? A beloved tenured professor—or a naive little college freshman who can’t stop crying?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Inspired by: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Aizawa, Erwin

[xarology]

Transformers X Reader 18+

I saw a post on twitter about using shock collars on bots but instead of hurting them it does the exact opposite and makes them feel so good!!! and I had to run and write something down because oh my god!!!

Starscream snippet at the end :3c

General Headcanons

Though maybe instead of collars they’re located near their interface panels? I’d imagine a low dosage shock to them would be similar to a vibration.

If I were to really describe it, shocks are a numbing buzz that you can feel circulating throughout parts of your body. If in direct contact, you can feel the energy the most but it slowly dissipates through their body. So really these shock devices would be a cool edging tool to keep their focus on their interface panel.

But that’s with low dosage shocks. Higher dosages yield for crazier results!! If some bots are into masochism then maxing out the shocks is basically sending them to the gates of heaven (well of allsparks?). On a full dosage they’re able to feel the shock throughout their whole body and then some. It blanks their processors out and they’re left a horny mess. Would also be great for those who love dumbification as their processor would be left scrambled for a bit

There’s a risk factor if you’re human. Their tolerance is CRAZZYY so if you’re giving them a high amount and end up touching them then you’re dead for sure. This is such a risk I cannot stress this enough, please throw on some thick rubber elbow high gloves, boots, ANYTHING.

———

With no mass displacement, imagine,,,,

Leaving Starscream a whimpering mess.

His hands tied together on the berth as he jerks his hips up to find stimulation. The device is placed right above his spike on one of its highest settings, curtesy from you of course. You’re standing to the side a fair distance away from him. Close enough to see the details, yet far from danger.

The pace is too slow for his liking. He’s so used to a nice hard frag. So used to being the one to tease you. So used to having you underneath him as he ruts into you like an animal. He doesn’t have to wait and think about a growing ache in him as he frags your brains out. But with you in charge, he thinks.

Starscream is running with thoughts, working overtime to delete warnings and stupid pop ups that tell him to ‘overload or overheat’. He doesn’t want to admit it but he likes this torturous buzz. And so, he chooses to overheat. His fans do little to help him as the volts short circuit it over time. He’s left to manually cool himself through large intakes of air. Focused on trying to cool now, his processor is so full that it blanks. He’s left a mumbly whiny loud mess. His valve cycles around nothing and he wants nothing more than something to pound into him. To touch him, to do anything.

His thighs are squeezed together by the time you walk near them, no longer grinding against air as he lays somewhat still.

His thighs snap open, obscenely wide at your command to open them. Bright pink fluid drips from his valve, and lots of it.

Don’t move, you tell him. He scrapes his pedes against the berth as he tries to keep them planted away from you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can’t help it when his hips grind against your gloved hand on his node. He doesn’t want to hurt you but frag, does it feel good when your other hand enters his valve.

His babbling turns into whines as your hands move faster. Then rougher. And now he’s trying hard to not fall into stasis as he overloads. Your hand is dripping with fluid and you’re quick to leave him. His thighs close together and he can still feel himself overloading, the charge dripping onto the berth and making a pool near his aft.

He’s out like a light when you turn off the shock device. You’re left to clean him up while he recharges. His spark swelling when he wakes every so often to see you polishing him up!!

————

Tons of aftercare after all that I promise he’s getting the princess treatment

[maliro-t]

veilguard spoilers if you're picky but re: ign today,,,,betrayal of felassan i am unwell

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

cracks my knuckles

Strap in folks its talking about my favourite guy time!

He changes hair colour whenever he feels like it. Hair not fitting in with his colour scheme? Simply change the hair colour. He is waiting for John to comment that its different and is increasingly annoyed by the fact John has never mentioned it.

He also will never wear the same suit twice. It is unknown if the suits change due to being in his presence for extended periods of time or if he spends time picking out suits from a giant wardrobe daily. Still on the subject of suits, he doesn’t always wear suits from Arthurs timeline/the 1930s.

I like to imagine that hes got an ‘80s power suit on in coda. He shows up in one of those skirt suits that were popular in the 1960-70s at some point. (Side note he should also be allowed to wear a black version of David Byrnes big suit- it would be funny).

He uses He/Him pronouns in the same way Gods are referred to. More a show of power and respect than from having any actual ties to a gender identity. He is a self described malevolent god, human constructs such as gender mean nothing to him. Nevertheless he is still somehow an old twink- no i will not explain this.

Malevolent Fans gimme Kayne hcs to incorporate into my hell bc i'm gonna try to write him as accurately as possible (reading abt him on wiki) without listening to malevolent yet

[randomnameless]

Drankengard done (land 2!)

A lot of nice things in this part, so far it feels like the most FE-like land, and some characters from this land are really interesting!

l firstly love how the plot starts with "we have to rescue this midget prince from 100k soldiers" in one of the few defend maps of this game with various catapults and other engines to attack/defend against a cluster of loldiers coming at you - that was nice compared to the nigh useless ballistas and other engines in FE.

Granted, Gilbert's defining moment after being revealed is basically protecting his vassal from a gotoh-like character who's twice his size and more or less recruiting her for the defend map -

(localisation thingie : no "kisama" for eng/fr script Gilbert, sure it's kind of complicated to put it in words - like an agressive "you" - and yet it gives some nice characterisation, after Amalia rekts Leah and while Gilbert is standing seconds before being surrounded by 100k peons in front of someone who's basically stronger than anyone else around, he is still angry and pissed for his friend's sake) -

Just before being upset at asking our party - aka a foreign nation who was at war with his for the last few decades and revealing that his dad only granted asylum to the princess of said foreign nation to marry her to his heir to conquer it later on - for help.

Hopefully for him his game is no Triangle Strategy, so no one will actually tell him to eat shit because he wasn't the one who liberated the land even if he participed to instead worship the "foreign" person who led the liberation army.

Hell, idk what kind of PR campaign Gilbert and his few loyal soldiers pulled out, but some NPCs are really acting as if he liberated his kingdom single handedly lol

His relationship with his elder brother was sort of developed in the main plot - but more in the equivalent of the support convos - but as I said in another post, I really loved that part where he feels like he's still a second prince, and if his older brother returns, older brother should get the crown even if older brother feels like dirt for failing his country and his father, and became a wandering... mercenary who's busy saving priestresses from jails (and leaving them in the middle of battlefields).

Ultimately, they reunite and more or less solve their issues, and Ludwig manages to tell him that he wouldn't be half the king Gilbert is, because Gilbert is the one who led a rebellion and ultimately led Drakengard free, is loved by this people etc etc.

TBH, while it was short, this was a nice character arc -

(complete with the support/rapport convo just after the final map I unlocked where Gilbert, wanting to know how the common people live in his kingdom, gets plastered with the a random worthless bandit/merc who's freaking out from the entire situation lol)

The other major character from Drakengard is Virginia, the MC's older cousin!

We first see her being kind of pushy and overbearing, sometimes taking the initiative to do rather extreme stuff (wanting to fetch her axe instead of recruiting the earlier worthless bandit/merc), but she's still deferring to the MC, save for a certain mission - because, and kuddos to the game for going there, while Virginia's story is basically a tragic Marth's, aka, when her kingdom was invaded she had to run away to a foreign state for asylum but without any Jeigan, she believed for 10 years and never stopped believing that she was the only one who survived, and thus it was her role and duty to restore the Cornian line on the throne and take back the country from the evil Empire.

And... MC pops up, as the rightful - aka the son of the late queen as opposed to her mere niece - heir thus Virginia's hopes of becoming the Queen and the one to restore her nation vanish.

So kuddos for the game to basically have Virginia tell her cousin that while she was happy to see him and learn he was alive after all those years... she also felt jealous, because the 10 last years she spent having this dream and hope to be the one to restore the country... vanished in 10 minutes lol.

She's not going to challenge Alain's claim to the throne and instead will support him.

Granted, this moment becomes ten times more interesting if you do her own mission before - aka the one where she zerg rushes against the dude who slaughtered her retinue against the advice of Jeigan Joseph and becomes a dreaded green unit (who loses her promotion somehow???), running in a battlefield full of catapults to have her vengeance.

Remember when I said one of her first defining moments is when she asks to be handed her axe to get rid of a worthless merc instead of recruiting him? Well, her words back then were something like "your men died for you, so you can't beg for your life" or something like that, we learn in her own mission that she was basically talking about herself.

Basically, kid!Virginia was supposed to have her Jeigans and Cain/Abel/Draugs and they were supposed to escape and run away together to Drakengard... but they were slaughtered by some general of the evil empire who thought bringing her head would make a good offering to the evil emperor, so the Jeigans, Cains, Abel, Draugs etc etc laid down their lives to allow her to escape - we have a voiced FB with a few images and a battle cinematic, where the knights basically say they will die to make sure she'll be able to escape, and will slow down the evil general with their corpses if needed.

The entire platoon of knights died, and Virginia has been carrying this trauma for ten years, dreaming of having her revenge but never once confiding in anyone from Drakengard about it - not even in her (Gilbert's) vassal Leah who she seemed to be close too earlier.

Short story, the general holds a fort and is supposed to be called back to the evil empire's capital for some reason, and instead of waiting for his departure to recapture the fort, Virginia storms at the general to have her revenge (accompanied by the knights who were just squires when she had to leave, and thus couldn't be there when their senior knights were slaughtered and want revenge as much as she does!).

You have to send Joseph to talk to her to have her turn blue again (and promoted again thank gods) and the re-recruitment scene is cool for 2 things :

1/it's Joseph, not Alain who talks to her because her beef and the one who talked to her and the one whose plan is ignored is Joseph - I love it when the MC isn't at the center of everyone's universe

2/Virginia during this convo notices her friends/knights are injured (they have the injured sprite) and realises she was going to send to their death the last remaining members of that platoon, chastises herself and her next battle lines are something like "I won't let them die/bleed anymore" or something and it's fucking powerful because hey, besides some "vengeance is empty" that she will get later on herself, part of what makes her see reason is the realisation that her allies are injured and were going to die in her quest, and she can't have that anymore (nice ludonarration moment here, Virginia is a tank, if her allies are injured, it's because she wasn't tanking well enough!).

"Vengeance is empty" moment : the evil general who slaughtered her former knights doesn't even remember the people he slaughtered, or the mission where he hunted her, aka, she's been obsessing for 10 years over something her so called "nemesis" forgot.

End of the map, the realisation that her vengeance was nothing + she put her close allies' lives in danger (+ the little bit of salt when she mentions that Alain is the Cornian Royal people should follow because he is royalty) make her want to leave the army as fitting punishment - which, you know, coming from a series where some lord basically goes 1VS1 against the guy who killed his dad and who was followed by his kid sister who put herself in mortal danger but only receives a scold from his not-mom and slap on the wrist just makes me side-eye FE Tellius' writing even more.

Anyways, while I read on redshit that some people were pissed because "wah wah Virginia is a character who does foolish things and there are consequences about it she should be exiled forever or something", she obviously doesn't leave the army because, all of her close allies ask her to stay. Hell, Alain only gives one or two sentences that are dispassionate compared to the other 4 - again to show that MC privileges aren't everything at least plot wise - but the main voice is Leah's - aka her (well) Drakengard retainer!

When earlier Virginia told her that this story and her choice had nothing to do with Drakengard - because it's about Cornian knights who died during her flight from Cornia - Leah now reminds her that she became someone important for Drakengard too, and you know, the 10 years she spent here ? It's not just only background to give some fluff for a teatime line, no, it has more implication, if not only to have this moment where Leah says that Virginia's pride, bravery and hope to restore her country also influenced and inspired people (Gilbert, the second son who had to assume the role of the King when no one else was left!) around her and made the people of Drakengard also hope to liberate their country - if she leaves now, the named character from Cornia will miss her, but also "Drakengard" in general.

To cement her words, after this map we can talk to some Drakengard NPC who's all "wow Princess Virginia is so cool she defeated the bastard in charge of this fortress!" and while idk if Leah's speech + that NPC were added to make the ending where she becomes the queen of Drakengard (save for Alain marrying his cousin) more plausible, but it was a really nice addition.

Adding to that the fact that Virginia is the one who's basically telling Alain (and informing the player) about various map hazards like geysers around the land, giving some backstory about the desert along with Leah and also the one who tells the party about a sort of shortcut/secret passage and yes, we get it that she lived for 10 years in that land and knows it enough to act as a guide, but also that the people around know her.

I mean compare with a game where some dude apparently went to a school in a foreign capital but when he marches on said foreign capital or talks to people who also attended that school he never mentions it - it's like night and day.

Final "daw" moment that is both tied to her character but also, another example that Alain isn't the center of the universe... Virgnia is the one who tells Alain to talk to Aramis (the eldest prince who became a merc!) and ask him to talk to Gilbert to put his worries aside about the throne and the succession and ust, to reunite with his younger brother.

The characters concerned (Gilbert and Aramis) thank Alain for giving them the occasion and push to talk to each other - not knowing this was something Virginia planned, because while hers and Gilbert's issues are sort of similar (the not "legitimate" heir who took the mantle of restoring their country to glory and believed it so for the last decade, only for the legitimate one to return), she has a good enough read on Gilbert to know that he needs to talk to his brother to put his doubts and questions about his legitimacy aside and accept that he is the King.

Coming from a series with "avatar scissors", the bonds and links between the characters was really something I enjoyed, Alain will not pop up and tell Gilbert that he is a good king and should get over/or deal with his doubts about his brother, Alain isn't the one who gives the most meaningful speech about why Virginia is important to Drakengard and hell, we don't even see the exchange we know he had with Aramis to convince him to talk to Gilbert, because the most important scene here isn't the Alain-Aramis dialogue, but the Aramis-Gilbert one. Gilbert doesn't want to free his Kingdom because he envies Alain or Alain told him to do so, it's something he wants to do being inspired by Virginia.

In a nutshell, Drakengard's major characters were a good surprise and their stories and quests were cool.

More minor character wise...

We get the Drakengard version of the same plague we saw in Cornia, but instead of having "clerics" perform experiments on infected people to find a cure, the accent here is put on a wyvern knight who was to enforce a lockdown, to prevent the plague from spreading and well... no fines in this setting, instead she runs them through with her spear.

IDK how that game would have been received just after Covid lol

All jokes asides, just like the Cornian version of this plot heavily suggested, the plague was devised by the evil empire to cut down the forces of the rebellion and make sure this land would be able to be conquered easily.

Why are the imperials killing people? Well, it might have to do something with the fact that the totes-not-gharnef old sorcerer guy is a necromancer...

Leah's quest explored a little more the background info that "Drakengard and Cornia used to be at war" thingie, with random green units also mounting a liberation army but refusing our help, and we know how this ends with green units, we basically have to save them.

Map ends with some Drakengardians - who swore allegeance to the evil Empire? - still willing to fight us, and Alain asking Leah to please ask them, as a Drakengardian (?) to surrender because if someone from Cornia asks them they will refuse.

Also it's a bit of a character exploration, for once the usually demure + always in the back behind Virginia asks the Liberation Army to do something and insists even if people refuse, straight up saying that in that case (if they refuse) she's going to help the green NPCs herself since she's strong enough to do so and it's cool because I think at one moment Virginia sighs/laughs, but not in a derogatory way, but more in some "damn she's becoming like me" way - which is alluded to in ther rapport conversation, Leah seeks to emulate her bold and fearless (being a green unit) behaviour.

I haven't seen a lot of convos with the desert people we recruit - thank goodness we're far from Hyzante's clichés even if the "people in the desert are bandits and former prisoners" trope is still here, but given how the ones who attack us were brainwashed by the evil Empire, it's not as aggravating as, well, Nopes or Hyzante.

Gameplay wise :

Damn if promoting your units cost medals, but it's so worth it to have more than one action (at least) per turn ! It also means we can use entire new strategies because now the turns are at least longer than one round each!

Drakengard fills the Jugdral quota with the group of units coming all at once at you sometimes lol, but I loved the aesthetic difference that ultimately became gameplay difference between this area and Cornia, basically we have more mountains to less space to manoeuver the non flying units, the enemies use AoE engines to ruin you or at times, AoE map abilities from their own units to deal some annoying amount of damage.

The cities are larger so instead of fighting in a meadow with one or two small buildings here and there, at times the fight takes place in an entire city, so again, it means reduced mobility and of course, desert sucks because, just like FE, you can't move well in the sand.

Lolcalisation wise :

Virginia "I have never been fond of court formalities" says a desert full of bandit isn't a place for "royalty like us"? When the "us" is both her and her cousin reknown for their martial abilities?

What the fuck does it mean ?

At least in FR it's "a lot of people avoid this place" and not just "royalty like us" - which doubles as ridiculous because in the "people avoid this place" it's again the trend of Virginia being a tour guide of Drankengard, telling Alain that people from Drakengard think about the desert, eluding this part is also, in part, eluding part of the knowledge Virginia has about Drakengard.

I think the localisation took the "royal pride" that defines her and exaggerated it to "royal arrogance".

IDK if the meaning is the same in english, cretin is an insult like in french, but damn if you say to someone the are a "crétin" they will feel offended and insulted because that's way more rude than calling someone an idiot!

:/

And I also have a bone against whoever thought it was a good idea to throw "pseudo elvish" words in the localised script (sadly we followed this :'() when the japanese audio doesn't use them at all, was it to pretend the evles from Fevrith have a different language because Tolkien shall be universal, or what?

Elf land doesn't see that interesting plot wise compared to Drakengard, and I'm not saying this because of my Alcina bias lol but I'll just have to wait and see!

(poor hodrick is being slaughtered by those pesky pointy ears and their hybrid attacks, tfw armor not withstanding magic is universal, I'll have to promote Miriam asap to protect him or just bench him :/)

[thesoulsofthedarned]

So I finished the Nightmare at Green Lake Event

It was pretty cool, can’t say i like it more than 1.3 and 1.6’s event stories but it was still pretty good overall. Plot was tightly written, had decent mysteries surrounding the setting, and overall kept me invested throughout the story.

Jessica’s backstory was neat, still don’t forgive her for ruining my pity on that Build-A-Banner back in 1.6 but I found her to be pretty sympathetic as a character. Though I gotta be honest; I already saw the twist with her being the deer behind the slaughter coming a mile away. I don’t consider this to be a detriment because shock value doesn’t inherently translate to good story telling, but it was just a tiny bit predictable.

Blonney was also ok here. To me she’s kind of the girl who walked so Desert Flannel could run, but still decently entertaining. She also has this arc where she overcomes her internalized racism against arcanists caused by pressure from society. I really like the idea of it but it felt pretty rushed in my opinion. Like, she literally has internalized bigotry and has had to suppress who she really is because of societal pressures for almost her whole LIFE, yet one conversation from a lady she met in one day was able to change that?? I’m sorry but that’s a little much for my suspension of disbelief. The arc itself wasn’t bad, but that one part kinda lowers my opinion about it. Oh well, at least her relationship with Jessica was cute.

Tooth Fairy and Horrorpedia were easily my favorite characters here. Tooth Fairy’s calming yet creepy vibe was great and bounced off the personalities of the other characters really well. I also like her role in Blonney’s character arc, with her questioning and deconstructing Blonney’s view on herself as an arcanist. Still a bit rushed but for what it’s worth, it works. Also please give this woman her teeth, she’s been searching the whole story yet never found any :(

Horrorpedia on the other hand was just a treat. I loved his enthusiasm of horror movies and how he applies their logic to real life, I loved his dynamic with Blonney with him being a clueless, socially inept idiot and Blonney just FUMING at him for ruining her camera and insulting her movie project, it makes for wonderful character interactions with him. Sure, he can get a little annoying from time to time but look at him! He’s literally just a guy!

Overall, i liked this event. Not my favorite story from Reverse but still pretty fun :)

[sysig]

They need long hair, and to put it in a bow! (Patreon)

[multishipper-baby]

Eak drawing that's technically not finished but I don't feel like cleaning it up more lol. Been a while since I drew my boy <3

[altschmerzes]

always good to remind oneself that it is always an option to simply block and ignore people who are being Weird To You on your posts. it is never necessary to engage. If It Sucks Hit Da Bricks.

[seiwas]

andie you have made me yearn for this man with a want so deeply rooted into my being 🥲😭🥲

i maxxed the tags but just wanted to add this one more thing — that he is soooo acts of service here its driving me insane. to be loved is to be known, that saying 🥲 my chest ached at the bookstore, at when he said that everything that’s his is rdr’s oh my goooood literally HOW TO GET A HE. HOW TO GET A HE i’m losing it. thank u for writing this I SWEAR

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4

Then

“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.

A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.

“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.

Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”

Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You looked down at him curiously. “What?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.

“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”

That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”

Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.

“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.

You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.

“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.

You were still his favorite, it seemed.

The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.

Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.

You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.

Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”

You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.

It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.

You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.

As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.

You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.

Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Caught you,” he called up to you.

You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”

Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.

You grinned. “Not until I get down.”

A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.

“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.

You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.

You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”

“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.

You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”

Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”

The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”

Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.

You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.

Now

The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.

It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.

You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.

You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.

After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.

It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.

The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.

You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.

Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.

The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.

You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.

You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.

The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.

You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.

Perfect.

You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.

You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.

You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?

Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.

Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.

“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.

Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.

Nope. No.

“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.

You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.

Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.

Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.

Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.

“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”

Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”

You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”

That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”

“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.

You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.

You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?

“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.

The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.

But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.

Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…

You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.

Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.

With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”

You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.

He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.

Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.

You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.

You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.

His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.

What was with him today?

“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”

Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.

“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.

His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.

You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.

Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.

All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.

“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.

But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.

Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.

Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.

“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”

His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.

Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”

Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.

It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.

Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—

“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”

Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.

“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”

Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”

You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.

Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.

“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.

“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”

A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.

But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.

A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”

You fought down a furious flush.

“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.

“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”

The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?

“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”

Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.

Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.

God how had you missed this?

You rallied yourself for one last defense.

“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”

Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.

“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.

You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.

“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.

Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.

Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.

“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.

God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.

The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.

Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.

“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.

You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.

Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.

“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.

And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.

Surrendering, you let yourself fall.

“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”

Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.

Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.

Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.

Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.

You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.

He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.

You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.

You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.

You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.

He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.

He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.

He looked too good to be real.

“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.

Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.

“You don’t want—?” you said.

Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”

Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.

“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.

Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.

The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.

You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.

By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.

Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.

Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.

Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.

Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.

“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.

His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.

“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.

Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.

“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.

The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.

You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.

Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”

Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.

You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.

“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”

“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.

Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.

“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”

Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.

“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.

Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.

Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.

“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.

“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.

A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.

Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.

“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.

You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”

You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.

“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.

The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.

“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”

Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”

Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”

Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”

Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.

Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.

He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.

Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”

Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.

“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.

You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.

A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”

You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.

“The—what?” you asked.

“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—

“What bookstore?” you asked.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.

“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.

Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”

Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.

“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.

“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.

Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”

A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”

A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”

You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.

“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.

You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.

And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.

“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.

“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.

You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.

But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.

“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.

You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.

You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.

You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.

“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.

You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.

You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.

Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.

You had the rest of your life together, after all.

[the-unofficial-village-idiot]

I just keep thinking about the way ford purposely drove a wedge in dipper and mabel's friendship because he projected his and stan's issues onto them

[arolesbianism]

Ok I'm having Joshua mental illness get hit with the me making bullshit up beam boy you could be so interesting if we try hard enough