#it’s like. realizing how deep some shit goes

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: smut, penetrative sex, nasty messy sex so—mentions of body fluids (cum), hair pulling, cock riding, really horny reader, hoshi rolling his hips like a slut, it doesnt have an order, it's just a long drabble of how hoshi fucks.

hoshi's hip (sex) game is the topic of the night, and this a post 100% dedicated to it (and how he fucks basically). i swear, there's not a SINGLE fic of mine that doesnt mention hoshi circling his hips or going balls sack deep. DUH. he’s a dancer—body carved by god or whoever tf is up there crafting perfect models for shit like this.

but looks like all of his dancer journey have gone straight into how he fucks. and yeah, you should’ve said something earlier, should’ve prepared your damn soul for the hip game this man is packing. but nah, you were dumb. reckless. thought it’d just be another roll in the sheets.

spoiler: it was not.

he’s got you laid out like a fucking masterpiece, your legs trembling before he’s even inside. his hands r steady as hell, holding your hips like they’re choreography. “you good?” he asks trying to sound cute, heartly being careful but with that stupidly hot, cocky grin curling his lips, like he already knows the answer. he does.

and when he slides in, it's game over. it’s not just the stretch (which is already enough to have your back arching like you’re tryna touch the ceiling). it’s the way he moves. hoshi doesn’t thrust. he rolls his hips, and i JUST KNOW! that it goes straight to the sweeet spot. he knows will ruin you. you’re done. wiped out.

“you feel that?” smug motherfucker. and yeah, you do. his tip’s got your g'spot on lockdown, like he mapped that shit out beforehand. every roll has his glutes flexing, you didn’t think you’d ever appreciated someone’s ass mid-fuck until hoshi, the power in them driving him deeper, balls-deep and then some. it’s like he’s tryna rewrite your anatomy.

“fuck me—” it’s the only thing you can manage because every other thought in your brain has been evicted.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.” he punctuates his words with a sharp snap of his hips. he’s got one hand gripping your thigh, the other tangling in your hair. if it’s long, he’s wrapping it around his wrist, pulling your head back just enough to meet his gaze.

“look at me,” he commands, and his hips don’t. fucking. stooooop, grinding into you like he’s on heat. “c’mon, babe. lemme hear you.”

but all you can manage is this strangled suffocated moan because his pulse is fucking otherworldly. he knows it, too. his smirk deepens, his eyes dark with that predatory gleam of someone who knows he’s completely destroying you.

legs, trembling. breath, nonexistent. moans, choked af, caught in your throat because his tip is right there. massaging your cervix, hitting that spot like it owes him rent. hips circling so smoothly it feels like he’s winding you tighter and tighter, like you’re about to snap.

and when you do—because obviously you do—he doesn’t slow down. no, he leans into it, letting you ride that high while his pace stays maddeningly perfect. every roll, every grind, like he’s got this whole thing down to a science.

hoshi knows exactly what he’s doing. and he loves it. loves the way your body reacts to him, the way your thighs tremble and your back arches, the way your moans break apart like you can’t take it anymore. “told you, didn’t i?” he says, grinning as he watches you unravel. “best fuck in the world.”

you knew you were screwed the moment hoshi smiled at you during that dinner. not the polite kind of smile tho—it was the type that tugged at the corner of his mouth, the one that promised chaos (very hoshi of him). you’d spent the whole night thinking, damn, he’s so sweet, so charming, falling for his jokes and the way his laugh made everything else blur. and then, that same mouth was pressed against your neck not even two hours later, and now you’re realizing that “sweet” is the last fucking word you’d ever use for him.

it’s not even just him, it’s the fact that he drags you down with him. one second, you’re gasping like some innocent disney princess; the next, you’ve got your knees digging into the mattress, heels propped up, grinding down on his cock like you’re trying to carve his name into your pussy.

“ohmygodyouresofuckingbig” you gasp, your voice wild, your hand braced against the headboard so you don’t fucking launch into orbit. his hands resting on your hips, loose as hell, like he’s just chilling, letting you take what you want.

he laughs at the sight, his chest glistening from sweat, abs flexing every time you drop down. his head tips back against the pillow, a hand running through his messy hair as he watches you like you’re putting on the show of a lifetime. “weren’t you just the sweetest little thing at dinner? now you’re grinding on me like you think i’m about to leave.”

your reply isn’t even a word. it’s a throaty, drawn-out moan, one that sounds ripped straight from a porno, because hoshi’s cock feels like it was engineered to ruin you. every time your hips roll down, you feel him, thick and impossibly deep, stretching you making your brain short-circuit. “shit, baby,” he groans when you clench around him, his hands tightening ever so slightly. “you’re so—fuck—tight.”

you’re too far gone to even be embarrassed. filthy sounds of your bodies moving together are louder than any shame you could’ve had, and when his tip drags right against your sweet spot, you lose it.

“fuck, hoshi,” you babble, your voice cracking as you try to form coherent thoughts. “so deep, you’re so—god, you’re—you’re ruining me!”

his laugh rumbles beneath you. “ruining you?” he mocks. “baby, you’re doing all the work. look at you. riding me like you’re afraid my cock’s gonna disappear.”

you barely register his words. but when he takes one hand and tangles it in your hair again, pulling just enough to tilt your head back, you’re done for. absolutely done. “oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you cry out, your thighs burning from the effort, but you don’t stop. can’t stop. he’s too deep, too good, his cock hitting your g-spot with every grind, every roll, and it’s got you unraveling at the seams.

“listen to you,” he keeps talking, even though he's more moaning than saying anything. “such a good girl at dinner, saying please and thank you. now you’re on my cock, moaning like you’re getting paid for it.”

“you—fuck—you’re so—fucking big,” you manage to gasp, your hand sliding down his chest, fingers curling into his slick skin as if that’ll keep you steady. “so deep, hosh, i can’t—i’m gonna—oh my god.”

his hips shifting up just a fraction to meet yours. that tiny movement sends stars shooting across your vision, and agian, he fucking knows it. “yeah?” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “you gonna cum for me, baby? gonna cream my cock, hm?” his words shouldn’t hit as hard as they do, but your body reacts before your brain can catch up. your thighs tremble, your moans turning into these high-pitched, incoherent whines as you chase that high, grinding down harder, faster.

“that’s it,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your screams go silent. “fuck, you’re so good. so fucking good. take it, baby. take everything.”

and when you finally snap, your head tipping back, your moans breaking into sharp, breathless cries, he lets you ride it out. doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just watches with this half-lidded, satisfied grin as you completely lose your dignity on his cock.

AND.

he loves the mess. thrives in it, even.

it starts when he’s got his fingers buried in you, watching the way your slick coats them with every pump. his other hand’s braced against your thigh, holding you open, keeping you spread so he can watch the way you clench and drip around him.

“listen to that,” grin on his face pure sin as his fingers curl. the wet, obscene sounds of your cum fill the air, and he’s eating it up, moaning slutty like it’s his favorite fucking song. “so messy, baby. you like that, huh? making such a pretty little mess on my hand.” he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, until there’s a wet spot on the sheets beneath you, proof of just how far he went.

“fuck, look at that,” he groans, dragging his coated fingers along your inner thigh, leaving wet trails that make you shudder. when he slides into you, it’s like he’s in a trance. slow just enough to feel the way your walls squeeze around him, wet and hot and perfect. but then he pulls out almost entirely, glancing down to watch the way your cum clings to him, coating every inch of his cock in a slick, glistening sheen.

he does it again. until he’s buried deep, then pulls out just to watch. the slick sound of it drives him insane, makes him groan low in his throat as he watches strings of your sluick stretch between you before dripping down onto the sheets. every thrust is accompanied by the wet, obscene sound of your slick, loud enough to echo in the room, loud enough to make him grin (maybe thats why he likes to roll his hips deep inside you, because makes the sound louder??) “every time i move, i can hear you, baby. you hear that? that’s all you.”

but it’s never enough for him, hoshi’s gotta see it. so he slows down, pulls out entirely, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to make him lose it. your arousal glistens on his cock, dripping in thick, shining lines, pooling onto the bed beneath you. he runs a hand along his length, spreading it, smearing it, just so he can watch how messy you’ve made him.

and then he’s back inside, the glide impossibly smooth, wet and filthy, and he’s groaning like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

[limitlesses]

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐈𝐌, 𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊. They didn't look at him like he was human, idolizing him to death or puffing up their chests to try and measure themselves against his reputation as the world-altering Gojo Satoru every sorcerer worth something knew about. He didn't want to waste his time trying to treat them like people when he almost never got that treatment returned. Suguru did, though. Always Suguru.

So of course he cackled like an evil maniac when Suguru relinquished his player one status to his undefeated might, tugging the wireless controller into his hands and smacking the player two controller into the other's grasp with a messy fumble and shove. Exchange successful. He sat back, chin tipped up, utterly pleased with himself whilst navigating the car options and picking his signature customized one. He toggled the joystick and watched as the blue neon twirled and spun in a 360 continuous rotation until Suguru's selections were made.

Suguru's answer to his question had Satoru's thumb zigzagging on the joystick instead, his car's rotation jaggedly darting back and forth instead. Ah, a few years ago... middle school? He tried imagining a slightly younger, piercing-less Suguru looking longingly at another guy from his desk -- or, uh, apparently... girls too? Ah, did Suguru have a type? Did the guys and girls he went for have the same aesthetic? What were the statistical chances that any of them had blue eyes and pale hair ----

Satoru's cheeks flushed dark, and he had to look away from the TV for a second, off to the side toward the window.

❝  — ... the person themselves, huh? ❞ Somehow, that didn't make Satoru feel any better -- like he couldn't just be unattractive physically, or not match the physical type Suguru had, but now he also could be unattractive as a person himself to Suguru? Great, fuck.

WAIT... WHY WAS HE SO WORRIED ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT HE WAS SUGURU'S TYPE?!

... FUCK!

He abruptly lowered his head and clacked his forehead against his controller, groaning without explanation. And then he realized he did that out loud, so he had to, uh, cough a little to play it off. Utter bullshit.

❝  W-what ... kinds of people did you, uh, have you dated before? Must've been weird -- normies, right? Before Jujutsu High. How did you... -- ❞ -- he didn't know how else to ask, or how to end that sentence. But the question burned in him nonetheless. How did Suguru connect with those people? Was it... just for sex? He said he had experience, so that meant -- like, experience experience. Or maybe he meant it in the nonsexual way? Who fucking knew.

He actually was glad to talk about ---- clan shit, as he said earlier, because then that could detract from the fact that he was currently Going Through It with the pendulum of emotions and a fucking... dilemma, apparently, slipped underneath the weight of his epiphany of liking boys. Neatly packaged: he had a crush on Geto Suguru.

❝ ---- ... I was, uh, pretty much raised by nannies growing up in Kyoto, my parents don't know much about me, either -- just the how-to manual for Limitless. ❞ He shrugged, an emphasis onto the way loose fabric shifted and slid against pale skin exposed, a deep dip of collarbone and shoulder... -- Suguru's crisis went unnoticed whilst Satoru hoped his own went the same way, too.

❝ That was more important than... ---- yeah, and me giving them some kids now. But everyone goes through that pressure, right? That's like... the standard TV drama shit. Mine's just heightened because I'm ---- the end of a prestigious bloodline, I guess. I have a ton of offshoot cousins, the family tree isn't dead-dead, but the branches aren't... 'pure' and up to standards, though thank fuck we're not like... marrying within the family or some shit like the old days. ❞

Satoru sighed, lowering his gaze back to his hands, fidgeting with the controller some more, tracing the seam that separated the top and bottom of the black molded plastic. ❝ Maybe I should be grateful, just go with it, even if the whole thing makes... -- it makes my heart just... sink. I shouldn't be selfish and end a whole bloodline just because I have a preference. God, and the fucking Zenin clan would have a field day... ❞

Abruptly as the dread that filled his stomach and welled up into his chest, Satoru flopped the controller aside onto the mattress and fell onto his back again, legs sprawled and spilling over the edge of the bed, his hands flying up to cover his face with another groan spilling against his pressing palms.

❝ -- ugggghhh, I don't know! What do I even say? It's going to sound so... ---- so... self-centered, and yeah, like... all my shit is always self-centered, sure, fuck off -- I get it, you got me, but this is... seriously self-centered, Suguru! But -- ❞

Another breath, and he wiped his hands down his face, leaving them near the edge of his jaw to linger there in case he wanted to groan into them again. He drilled his gaze up at the ceiling because that was easier to spill his heart out to in the moment.

❝ -- can't I just... exist a little? You know, without something or someone relying on me, NEEDING me to do this or that a certain way? Maybe I wanna have a... a boyfriend and talk about Digimon and -- yeah, I'm rambling ---- sorry ---- but I want to, and I want to watch you roll your eyes or, I don't know, tell you my silly jokes and laugh and... -- instead of having to... worry about clan power dynamics and offspring shit and... having the fate of a dynasty that's been around since fucking Ryomen Sukuna on my shoulders. ❞

He breathed, moving his hands back up to cover his face fully, fingers pressing gently against his eyelids.

❝ I want to... I want a lot, right? Or, maybe it isn't a lot. I don't know. I just want... I want to play this stupid video game and, I want to -- ... like my stupid things, act my stupid self without... feeling like I shouldn't. ❞

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑, talking about the advanced mathematics his powers demanded of him on a near-constant basis.  None of this was news to Suguru, but he loved teasing his friend about it regardless.

❝ At all times, huh, ❞  Suguru replied with the slight tilting of his head, as if studying him —-- merely thinking out loud.  While Satoru’s abilities were incredibly impressive, that ego of his so often got in the way —-- acting as a deterrent towards other students who had, at one point, wanted to get to know him. The Gojo prodigy could be a bit rough around the edges at times; abrasive and intimidating to others that didn’t know him as well as Suguru did.

One day he’d talk to him about it… encourage him to get to know some of the others in their midst, even if they were weaker than him. To let them in. He valued Satoru's friendship so much —-- he really wanted their classmates to see how great Satoru was, too.

Suguru took the last bite of his onigiri, savoring the taste as Satoru’s expression softened.  The warmth that spread across his face as he spoke about wanting to know all there was to know about the other was seemingly contagious, for Satoru was now looking back at him with an expression mirroring his own —-- that overly confident act falling away, leaving only the vulnerable, trusting boy he so cherished behind.

As he began opening up about his preferences, and how he had discovered them, Suguru listened intently… his eyes softening as they drifted down to the other’s hands, only to watch as he began fidgeting.  Satoru was nervous, talking about this… it nearly made his heart ache.  Was he really the first one Satoru ever opened up to about all of this? 

He couldn’t help but wonder how lonely his upbringing had been.  Limitless had truly isolated him in a much different way than Suguru’s own abilities had…

Suguru’s gaze drifted back up to meet with Satoru’s as he began to mention the when of it all, but before he could really grasp what the other was saying, Satoru was essentially tackling him to get his controller. ❝ H-hey!  Fuck off! ❞  Suguru laughed, clutching at his controller half-heartedly before eventually relinquishing it.  He didn’t actually care which player he was —-- Suguru was more than fine being player 2.  As long as he was at the other’s side, nothing else really mattered to him.

While Satoru navigated the game’s menu and set everything up, Suguru contemplated his question.  He pressed the back of his skull against the wall behind him, his gaze darting up towards the ceiling.

❝  —-A few years ago, maybe?  I don’t know… I’ve had experiences with both, so I wouldn’t really say I have a preference for one over the other.  It’s always been about the person, themselves… if that makes any sense. ❞

Now it was Suguru’s turn to feel a bit exposed; vulnerable, in the midst of such a confession.  He scratched nervously at the back of his head before continuing.

❝ My parents don’t know about any of it, though. They don’t know much about me at all, actually.  Coming here and getting to learn about all of the stuff I’ve had to pretend I don’t see, or even know about, has been… eye opening. ❞

At that, he cast his gaze back towards Satoru… locking eyes with him, before finding himself distracted by the other’s exposed collarbone.  Suguru’s lips parted as his focus drifted away from his past; instead, he became preoccupied by each breath Satoru took.  The way his chest would rise and fall… 

❝ …..Which is...--- also why I think you should fight back against your clan’s wishes. ❞  Suguru forced himself to concentrate on the conversation at hand, violet eyes boring directly into the depths of Satoru’s blue. ❝ With all of that arranged marriage talk from before, I mean.  It doesn’t seem like your family knows you all that well, either. ❞

Suguru chanced a small, sad, and all too understanding smile at him, before finally remembering to pick out his own car for the races they were about to play out.

❝ I know you don’t want to focus on it right now, though, so we don’t have to talk about it.  Especially if you don’t want to.  But I’m here, if you ever…. need to. ❞

[starlooove]

It’s so funny when u ask ppl to elaborate on opinions and all the biases come out

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[byanyan]

ahahahaha... tfw you come to the realization that you've created a character who is loudly and unapologetically themself bc you are terrified to be yourself... where you internalize everything, they externalize everything...

[natsmagi]

Hello I really hope this does not sound accusatory or malicious! I can't and won't try to police who you follow, but I've noticed you're mutuals on twt with lumi, and she's proship and likes degenerate stuff sometimes, I don't follow her anymore but did at one point, to be clear, I'm not one of them, but you follow people that are against it as well and I don't want to get into discourse and bother you, I just thought you should know but can't notify you privately about something like that out of nowhere or anything... you seem to be a normal, nice person and said that you don't agree with stuff like that before! You can choose to not reply if you want it's, more a heads up than anything else q_q and you can decide to do as you please...

oh omg hey!! no worries at all! and thank you for reaching out with your concerns. to be honest i had no idea about any of this, like i know she posts weird stuff sometimes but i never really got the impression that she was proship? and i really dont wish to blindly assume the worst in people so if you could message me more info on it that would be very much appreciative!!

proship ideology is one of those few things in this world that i just Cannot empathize with, and this in general is a topic im DEEPLY passionate about. i do know though that some people cling to "proship" moreso as a defense for enjoying things with darker thematics and what have you without actually being into problematic things, just bc of how "accepting" the proship community is to. like. everything. and they fear being made an outcast by people outside that group just because they like nuanced things of that nature. and that honestly makes me really sad. so its why i dont like to baselessly judge people very often (usually its clear as day when they subscripe to actual proship ideology too, and them wearing the label proudly sets me off) but yes, it is something that i do not support and do not wish to give the impression that i DO support, so any lecturing is greatly appreciated!

thank you for reaching out!! i mainly just follow people bc oh! pretty art! without thinking much of it and i dont wanna unfollow ppl without knowing the scope of the situation, so ill be more attentive from now on and keep an eye out!! thank you again!!

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

love procrastinating going to bed and then suddenly thinking about how I need to give at least one of my characters VERY strong opinions on different animal species RIGHT FUCKING NOW

[tonycries]

WAP!

Synopsis. How was he expected to not lose control the first time he goes in raw?

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mating press, jealousy (Nanami’s side), improper use of Gojo’s technique, true form! Sukuna, dp, praise, creampíe, spítting, really REALLY needy pússydrunk boys, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k (whoops)

A/N. Got a bit carried away but oh well hehehe.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “A-another?”

Toji Fushiguro never stutters, he never sounds unsure, he never lets that deep baritone voice of his break so pathetically at the end of his sentence. 

Except for now, that is.

With you folded into such a mean mating press, spreading your shaky legs to flash him that heavenly view. As if that wasn’t enough to have Toji’s head spinning already, you give him a hazy, determined nod, “Another.”

Another. Oh, it’s all he can do to hold back a guttural groan when thumbing apart your puffy folds, eyeing the way you were clenching up at him eagerly.

“Another, huh?” Toji echoes, his free hand coming up to slide back that thin layer of plastic on his swollen cock. Slow. Torturously slow. Hissing at the cool air kissing his aching length, “Then-” He glides his leaky tip across your glossy entrance, smirking at the way you arch into it like such a slut. “-this pretty cunt better actually give me another kid, doll.”

And then Toji’s pushing in - slow, ruthless little pistons of his hips that have you scrambling further and further up the mattress. Veins pulsing against your plushy walls in a feverish thump! thump! thump! 

Of course, he wasn’t faring any better. 

“O-oh.” Toji throws his head back, brows scrunching at the feeling of your sweet sweet cunt. “So this is- fuck- what ya feel like, hm? Hold on- wait- wanna test something-” 

“Ngh! Oh-” you squeal when two thick fingers dip down to toy with your throbbing clit, bucking your hips up in a way that has Toji sinking in deeper. Blinking away the shocked tears behind your lids, “T-Toji– don’t be mean.”

But you doubted he could hear you - fuck, you doubted Toji was even breathing at this point. Because his eyes were widened, jaw dagging open ever-so-slightly to moan, “Fuck- oh my god- ya squeeze me ngh- even tighter without that fucking condom.”

And he’s so fucking awe-struck - and you’re being fucked so dumb - that you don’t even realize it when he’s bottoming out. Still pushing in, trying to squeeze even deeper into your gummy walls. 

“F-fuck can’t believe you’ve been holdin’ out.” he spits, sounding so genuinely bewildered, pulling your hips back messily to meet his. Heavy balls smacking you with each rough, depraved thrust inside. “Ohhh m’never letting ya hold out on me again, doll.”

Your nails leave angry, red marks down, down, down his sculpted back. Glassy eyes begging - pleading for any once of mercy for the monster you’ve brought on. “N-never?”

He gives your ravaged clit a light smack! with the pads of his fingers - both a little punishment and a sneaky little way to feel you clamp down on his thick cock in surprise again. Huffing out a low laugh, “Yeahhh you’re not getting off easy. Never.” And, usually, Toji was so suave, so infuriatingly in control - but right now he’s running his mouth as sloppily as his hips. Panting into your open mouth, “Gonna hafta let me f-feel this cute pussy all the fuckin’ time now. Gonna hafta let me breed her.”

And shit it wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. 

In a split second, Toji falls back onto his knees, pulling you upright to splay out so prettily on his lap. The change in position pushing him in deeper and deeper and-

“That’s what I hah- like to see-” One hand squishes your cheeks together and forces you to look down at the way your poor pussy was bulging and struggling around Toji’s cock. So so angry and drenched with all your syrupy sweet juices, glistening all the way down to his twitching balls. “Ya look so much oh- shit- better drooling all over me and not some condom, doll.” Toji’s sharp teeth graze your ear, abs rippling underneath your touch as fucks up into you so animalistically. So ferally. Sharp, long jabs of his hips, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over. “N’ even better when she’s ngh- painted white, right?”

The only response you’re stupidly giving him are a handful of teary whimpers, thighs burning with the wet smack of skin on skin. 

And the way you’re bucking down pathetically to meet his ruthless cadence, but you don’t  even realize that until Toji lets out a strangled groan. “Heh, ya like that?”

“Mhm.” you whine. “L-like it so- much- like feeling you like this- ah-”

He’s pulling you into a messy kiss - if it can even be called that, just a lazy, messy drag of his lips and that scar against your lolling open mouth, “Tha’s my girl. Ya like feeling me raw, hm?” Each word nudges his fat head against your bruised g-spot in a way that has Toji so drunk, so high off you and that pretty cunt. Twiddling a thumb on your sensitive nub. Over and over and over. “Ya like the ohh- fuck- idea of giving me another? Making Megs a big brother?”

“Yes! Fuck yes yes yes I-”

Toji doesn’t hear the rest of your sentence - nor does he really give a shit. Not when your cute cunt is squeezing around him so fucking tight that it was almost hard to ram his cock inside. 

Milking the fucking soul out of him as you cum, a broken little ah! ah! ah! leaves your mouth when with a couple, sloppy thrusts Toji can’t help but paint your pussy a sinful white. Thick, hot ropes of his seed that slosh inside your gummy walls - cumming and cumming so much that he feels it drip out your slit.

Meshing together in a lewd combination at the soaked base of his still-rock hard cock, one that makes Toji keen gruffly. Pooling his seed on the pads of his fingers, he bullies them back into your still-stuffed hole, “So…are we sure it took?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Right here right now

Everyone knows Nanami Kento as a patient man - a sensible one. The one person at the office they could trust with anything and everything.

Only you knew Nanami Kento as the type of man to just drag you into the break room in the middle of the work day, spitting out a barely-there excuse about “a meeting” to the rest of your confused coworkers. When in reality he was shoving you near the nearest flat surface and bunching your cute skirt up at your hips. 

“Ken- what-” you sputter in a daze, blinking up at the panting man above you. “What happened?”

The only answer you’re getting is the clink-clink-clink of Nanami’s belt unbuckling, stray strands of blond sticking to his furrowed forehead as he takes in your slutty position. 

Scoffing, “Can you at least tell me what-”

Your words die in your throat at the feeling of something so warm and rock-hard making a mess of you down below. And - sure enough - you’re met with the sight of Nanami’s fingers nudging apart your flimsy panties - just enough for his fat head to kiss against your puffy folds. Sending a fresh wave of your slick coating his hand once more. 

“Don’t have a condom.” he speaks to you properly for the first time since coming in here, gruff and strained against your ear. “Guess we’ll hafta make do, darling.”

Fuck, you’ve never gone without a condom with your boyfriend before - but now that you’ve felt the sensation of his deep slit rubbing against your hole, the dip of his veins tracing against your walls, well, shit you think you might just be addicted. 

Nanami isn’t too far behind - because he lets out a deep groan. “O-oh. Fuck, remind me to do this more often.” Chest heaving as he pulls out ever-so-slightly, only to run a fist down his length, smearing your syrupy sweet juices in a glossy sheen along his cock. “Who said you can feel this haah- fucking good, my love? This all f’me?”

It’s only with this that you’re realizing that he still hasn’t explained yet. 

Reaching out a hand to pull on Nanami’s favorite yellow tie, you bring his face mere millimeters from yours. Breathing out, “E-explain or m’walking out.” 

You wouldn’t - you knew that. And Nanami did too, but that didn’t stop that greedy part of himself from stilling inside your puffy folds, having you struggling and clenching with the effort to take in his girth. 

“Jus’ wanted to hah- feel you. To really feel you.” he’s nosing up your racing pulse. Strong hands pushing your legs so far apart on the table that it burned. “To actually prove to this cute pussy that she’s mine. S’that s-so wrong?” He’s fucking you like he wants to prove a point - in long, purposeful strokes that roam for your g-spot. Gritting out, “Especially when you’re so warm. So heavenly. N’ some people here can’t take a hint.”

Ah, so that’s what it was all about - that new intern at the office who seemed particularly attached to you lately. Enough so that it had Nanami acting like this - not that you were complaining, obviously. 

No sooner is the realization hitting you that Nanami’s smashing into your sensitive spot. Hard.

A large hand hastily covers your mouth as soon as it sags open. Only growing more and more desperate when Nanami starts up a quick tempo. Hitting it over and over and over- “Shhh shhh, darling.” he groans, fucking you deeper and deeper into the table. “I know it’s good. Ngh- oh my god you feel fucking perfect- But we wouldn’t want ‘em to hear, right? Though-” And then he’s flashing such an uncharacteristically smug smile, gaze just devouring you through his long lashes. “-wouldn’t mind ‘em knowing that you’re mine.”

And it seems like he was torn between forming coherent thoughts and just rambling about how sinfully good you felt. 

“K-Ken-”

But Nanami wasn’t done - far from it, in fact. He was running his mouth, words slurring and stumbling with each jolt of his hips forward. 

“Shh, let me do all the work, darling.” Drawing gentle, purposeful circles on your clit, “Jus’ sit there n’- hngh- let me feel this pussy some more. Let her soak me some more. Been waitin’ for this too long- oh- They’d never know, right?”

It’s all you can do to nod, barely-lucidly, “N-never. Only you, Ken.”

And now, unfortunately for you and your poor cunt, it just seemed like Nanami was pussydrunk off the feeling of your gummy walls milking the fucking soul out of him. No longer just proving a point - no, oh, he was lost in the way you were so soft. So messy - forming a cute pool of slick on the table below, on his heavy balls. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Fuck him. Fuck them all.” 

You flinch as he catches your lips to spit out heated little profanities into your open mouth, biting and tugging filthily on yours. Almost babbling at this point, “They’ll n-never know how ngh fucking heavenly this cunt feels. How perfect you’re wrapped around me.”

Both the obscene squelches from below and your broken little whimpers were reaching a feverish height, coupled with Nanami’s rumbling groans. And it’s only when you let out a particularly loud whine of “Ken–” that makes him grow even girthier inside you. 

Stretching you out so good, he lets out a warning whisper. Low and dangerous, “Careful.” Sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine - all the way to your ravaged cunt, “I hear he’s got a meeting here soon.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The cocky one

“Hah, such a cocky smile, gorgeous.” Geto shakes his head down at where you were on all fours for him. Arched like such a slut against his angry tip, throbbing and glistening between your legs. “You sure you’re oh-”

Whatever mean little retort - and that smirk - is wiped clean off of Geto’s pretty lips when you fuck yourself back onto his rock-hard cock. Gritting your teeth at the sheer stretch when your sloppy hole finds his red, leaky tip, determinedly stuttering him down, down, down until your ass was pressed up against those tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

“W-whoops.” you sigh when your skin smacks against his abs, tone saccharine sweet. “What were you hah- saying, dear?”

Geto lets out a strangled groan, head tipping back, fingers blindly finding your hips to keep them from fidgeting. Fuck, you were so heavenly - so addictive. He could feel himself rubbing up against every ridge and dip of your tight pussy. 

“You little bitch.” he sighs, heavy eyes locked on where the two of you were connected. Your pussy lips bulging so sinfully around him, making him grow even larger. Longer - hitting spots you never knew existed. “Now that’s just ngh- playing unfair.”

Unfair? Oh, you could teach him about ‘unfair’. Unfair was when he’s jutting his hips forward in slow, shallow strokes just to fit inside - no rhythm or rhyme, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Unfair was when he strikes your ass with a sharp smack! grinning at the way the flesh jiggles against his palm.

Unfair is when he leans down to murmur thickly, the change in angle having him barrelling deeper inside your snug cunt. “Isn’t it?”

“N-no.” your lower lip wobbles. 

“N-n-no.” Geto grins, “Stuttering too? That’s crazy, what happened to my smug girl from- hah- before- oh fuck-” 

But oh for all how cocky Geto was acting, he was so weak against the way your gummy walls clench down so fucking tight around him - on purpose. Stuttering down to milk him like you wanted to draw out something delicious. Like you couldn’t stand being even a hair’s breadth away. 

“Haaa…” he lets out a broken shudder, two hands wrapping underneath your inner thighs to just drag your sloppy further down, settling deep - so impossibly deep - into your gut. Distantly, some part of him hoped that you left marks - a cute lil’ ass print against his abs for him to admire later. “Fuck- fine. Fine-” 

You whirl your teary eyes over your shoulder - and it was so difficult to look behind you. Because Geto was so unfairly pretty - long, inky hair curtaining his pussydrunk eyes, twirling all the way down to where his delicate blush dusted all over his cheeks, his chest, his rock-hard abs. Involuntarily, you find your sloppy cunt clenching again, rubbing up so deliciously against that prominent vein down the middle of Geto’s length. 

That coaxes out another drawn-out groan from your boyfriend, and a traitorous buck of his hips - his fat head hitting right on your g-spot. “I said fine.” he barks out, teeth bared. “Y-you win. Ngh- you win the bet. Fuuuck you win, just let me- ngh just let me fuck this pretty cunt. Now.”

Ah, right. The bet - that single, mindless little comment earlier today about who’d break first if you two went in raw. 

And, clearly, there was an obvious winner. 

Because Geto isn’t waiting around for your kiss-bitten lips to drop into some taunting remark, hell, he can’t even wait for you to register his words before letting his hips lose control. Ramming into you in quick, jagged thrusts that abuse your hidden sweet spots. 

Over and over and-

“Y’feel so soft, gorgeous.” he purrs into your ear, pushing all his all his body weight in an attempt to hold your slutty cunt still. Setting up such a mean pace, “So warm- ngh n’ m’tired of pretending it isn’t driving me crazy.”

You keen when Geto cranes his fingers to deftly roll over your clit, “S-so much for not breaking first.”

“Awww c’mon now.” Geto’s balls smacking against your ass get louder - harsher. “I already s-said you win. Hah-” God, he’s barely in control of himself with the way he catches your lips in a messy clash of a kiss. Hot tongue nudging apart your plump lips to spit a steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Some of it missing and splattering against the corner of your mouth, “N’ you know what m- ngh- buying you as a p-prize?”

Your knees are weakening pathetically now, sliding further and further apart on the silky sheets with each harsh slam of his cock - only to be pulled back up by an impatient Geto. 

“Do you?” he hisses, pistoning his hips so hard now that your knees were hovering midair - held up by a frenzied Geto. Who plows on deliriously, “Gonna buy ya- nghh fuck- the pill. So many- cuz you’re gonna fuckin’ need it-”

And need it you did. 

Because it only takes a few more seconds of this maddening song and dance before Geto’s cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t - wouldn’t want to - stop.

Pumping thick, hot rope after rope of his seed until your high was crashing into his. Until his cock was so raw and twitching sensitively. Until his balls were squeezing so painfully, tears stinging behind his eyelids with each ram into your fluttering pussy. 

“Best out of three?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Overheat

Oh this was a dream - or heaven. Maybe both. Because here was Choso sprawled out so prettily on his damp navy sheets, dark hair untied, half-lidded eyes gazing up at a sly angel - you - straddling his toned hips.  

Pussy lips swollen and drooling down where you were positioning his fat, leaky head right at where just a simple nudge of Choso’s squirming hips would have you split apart on his swollen cock - raw. 

“Cho~” your heady voice breaks through his stunned reverie, “You alright, baby?”

“Y-yes.” his words catch in his heaving chest. And Choso’s so embarrassed - still so stuck on the heavenly view below - that he’s barely even registering the hand of his that makes its way down to rest on your steady waist. “Just that-”

And then Choso’s giving an impatient tug on the fat of your hips, inching you so agonizingly close to his needy, red tip. So close he could practically feel you already - he could imagine how soft and warm you were bound to be.

You huff out a low chuckle, “Awww poor baby.” Grinning at the way your boyfriend takes one of tits into his mouth to muffle his embarrassed whine. He alternates between sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive nipples, “Is this what you- hah- want?”

And the way you sandwich his thick cock between your slit has Choso’s ministrations on your nipple stuttering. Whispering out a muffled little, “Y-yeah…”

“Louder.”

“...”

Tutting, “Or, I could just get a condom since you’re so shy-”

“No!” Choso rasps out wetly, and the sudden outburst seems to startle you both. But especially Choso who only blabbers, pussydrunk and slurring already, “No no no no no- need this-” He claws at your hips, edging you closer and closer to sit on his soaked, twitching cock. Bucking his hips up wildly, the slick coating your dripping cunt making him slide messily across your folds once. Twice. “Need you so bad- wan’ feel you wanna feel this pretty pussy- ngh- please. Fuck!”

Both of you let out a synchronous moan when he finally manages to sink his fat head inside your sloppy entrance. So thick, stretching you open so well despite not even being halfway in.

“F-fuck.” Choso’s hazy eyes widen, and he immediately flattens his feet on the bed before pulling back. Only for his poor, oversensitive balls to squeeze so painfully- before covering your dripping cunt in rope after rope of his seed. Your pussy too heavenly, his sanity too gone. “Sh-shit m’sorry m’sorry- ngh.”

Your eyes widen, “Ch-Cho did you-” 

But he doesn’t let you finish - was probably too embarrassed to before stuffing your gaping, needy hole with his thick cock again. And again. And again and again trying to relieve that first time. “Oh, is this okay? Is this r-really okay?”

You don’t even know what he’s asking about - not when Choso’s sliding you deeper and deeper down his cock. Sculpted body bowing into yours when he starts bouncing you up and down like his favorite sextoy - reveling in the lewd squelches below and those pretty moans leaving your lips. 

“S’your fault, y’know?” he pants, ragged. Hips fucking up uncontrollably, drunk off the feeling. “Y-your ohhh fuck- your pussy feels too good, baby. N’ she’s s-so soft. So warm with my cum.”

And it was so sloppy, your boyfriend was never one to shy away from making a mess out of you both but this. Oh, you were losing your fucking mind with his harsh pace, letting that lewd combination of his cum and your slick glisten all over his abs, your thighs, your filthy cunt. All the way down to where his heavy balls were sure to leave marks for tomorrow - right alongside his pelvis against your thighs, fingers on your hips. 

“Y-you’re so-” you lean over to dig your nails into Choso’s pecs, and he takes the opportunity to bite and tease your poor nipples once more. “-filthy, Cho.”

He swallows, and fuck you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier. Adam’s apple bobbing, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed and miles away. “It’s this hah- p-pretty pussy, baby. R-raw? Seriously? She’s driving me insane.”

At that last, broken word of his sentence, Choso throws his head back as if merely remembering that there was no little plastic separating his throbbing cock from your gummy cunt was enough to make him go crazy. 

Hips pistoning up faster, molding your cunt to his shape. Bruising your g-spot with each thrust - and your cervix, too, just as a little stray reminder that you’re his from the inside out. Gasping out, “Just look at her.”

When you snap your head down, he’s already spreading apart your puffy folds with two fingers, giving you the perfect view of that creamy sheen, Choso’s reckless, maddening hips, the way your cunt was bulging and soaking his painfully hard cock. 

Only getting sloppier. Harder. Drunk with each thrust. 

“She’s so pretty.” he grits out, “So heavenly. Might just b-be my new hah- obsession.” Just babbling nonsense in strained, jagged words that come out after each brush of his fat tip against your g-spot. So hard that you were stumbling precariously on top of his wild hips. “Yeah- new obsession. My heavenly obsession” he eyes down your quivering thighs, those breathy moans that told him you were close.“N’ I wonder how much more heavenly you’d be if I cum inside?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Take both, dammit.

“B-both?”

The only response you get are Sukuna’s fingers tightening around your throat, sharp nails dragging dangerously over your racing pulse. Pulling your dazed face closed to gift you with a low, cocky hum, “Both.”

And then you can’t breathe - not because of the large hand taking its place around your neck, no, but because Sukuna was suddenly nudging his weeping, fat tips against your sloppy entrance. Lips curling up into a devilish grin at how you were quivering in- fear? Anticipation? 

Either way it had you keening tearily, “Kuna it won’t- fit!”

“Hmm,” Sukuna purses his lips in mock-thought, free hand dipping down to roll his index against your clit. “Let’s ask her why don’t we?” Any and every noise of surprise you manage to yelp out are overshadowed by the most obscene squelches you’ve ever heard in your life. Like Sukuna was well and fully intent on proving his point by circling his thumb around your sloppy hole until you gave up. And he was. “She says she’s just dying to take it. What’s your excuse, brat?”

Truly, it was the first time you’ve tried taking both your boyfriend’s massive cocks - and just one of them required specially made condoms and such extensive teasing and toying to stretch you out enough. 

So one thing was sure - you weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re startled out of your reverie by a dark chuckle from above - shit, did you say that out loud? “Well, only one way to find out.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - both at once. Fat heads bumping into each other as Sukuna grinds against your snug pussy in shallow, short rolls of his hips. 

“Tch.” he clicks his tongue when your feeble ring of resistance struggles to take him. A warm hand of his comes down to soothe over your head slowly, gently - uncharacteristically so. Whispering, “Shhhh, shhh breathe. You got this. You can take it- hah- you always do, right?” Hips getting just a bit more forceful. A bit more calculated. “You can-” Before that sweet hand on your hair tightens to push you down, hard. “-take it.”

Oh, you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling that the king of curses always gets what he wants. Always. 

“Oh my god- oh my god, Kuna! S’so deep-”

A startled smile spreads over Sukuna’s face, eyes widening in surprise. “Ohh, shit. Shit, brat.” He angles his head just right to spy down - just to make sure. “If I knew you felt ngh- th-this good, I’d have done it sooner Much, much sooner.”

But fuck for how cocky he was acting right now, Sukuna was in fucking heaven. 

Dipping his head down to hide the blush dusting his cheeks, and that euphoric glint in his eyes, Sukuna starts moving in hurried, methodical little thrusts to squeeze even deeper inside. 

“Hngh- it’s- ah- can feel you rubbing up inside me, Kuna.” you whine into his ears, hips bucking up wildly. 

“Yeah?” he breathes, but it comes out more wobbly than he intended. Biting his lower lip to keep those loud fucking moans slipping out from the feeling of rubbing against himself and your raw gummy walls and himself. “Y-ya like this? What happened to ‘o-oh s’too big, Kuna’?”

You manage to get out a weak, “F-fuck you.” 

“No, brat. I’m fucking you.” Sukuna growls, ramming into you faster. Sloppier. Heavy sets of tight balls stinging your skin, “Both of me.”

God, the stretch was so much, like he was pushing into your lungs. And that thundering thump! thump! thump! of matching sets of veins against your dripping cunt was so sinful that you let his little comment slide. Driving you to insanity. 

Instead, your teeth grazes Sukuna’s earlobe to give a soft tug, making him turn his head and look right at your fucked-out face.

His hot breath fans your face, “What, brat? Can’t talk? Or is it that you want-” He catches your ravaged clit between two fingers again, rolling languidly. “-her to talk?”

And God, if it was double the stretch on your too-tight cunt, then Sukuna was determined to make sure it was double the pleasure for you. 

His fingers just so frenzied on your clit, rubbing tight, messy patterns - not even circles anymore because fuck Sukuna was too impatient, too depraved for that right now. Swollen cocks sliding in and out with reckless abandon, getting easier and easier with each glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices all over them. Massaging all those sensitive spots he’s mapped out so well to hit his end goal - your poor, ravaged g-spot. Hitting it over and over and over and-

“Kuna!” you scramble for the sheets, the headrest, his shoulders - just anything to keep whatever’s left of your sanity. Sobbing out, “I-I’m close- ngh ah! I’m so close.”

“Close, hah?” you hear from above you, the last thing before the smacking of skin-on-skin becomes almost deafening. Coupled with Sukuna’s strained groans, now unable to hold them back with each time he’s kissing your cervix - your g-spot. “Then cum. Cum all over my cocks, brat.”

Hips stuttering as they get harsher with purpose. Violent, even - having to rest a hand on top of your head to keep your body from being jolted too far up the bed.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. You’re screaming out Sukuna’s name, body bowing into his vice-like grip. Dripping cunt trying desperately to milk him so tight.

It was too much. 

Your poor pussy was overfilled to the brim with each and every spurt of Sukuna’s hot cum, thick, white globs that dribble down your thighs. Filling you up so much you think you could explode and- “Aww look at you.” Sukuna coos, thumbing apart your pussy lips to watch her soak in his never ending cum. “Wonder if she can take another load?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Experiment…

The great Gojo Satoru is many things - powerful, complex, a pain-in-the-ass to most - but being hesitant to experiment is decidedly not one of these things. 

Which is what found you splayed out underneath him, brows furrowed, legs trembling while he drags his weeping tip up and down your puffy folds. Just dipping between your lips, pooling your sweet sweet juices on his head - up and down up and down up and-

“Toru.” your deadpan voice cuts through his fun, hips arching off the bed impatiently. “S’not gonna work.”

Gojo sticks his tongue out with all the maturity he could muster up, “It will, sweetheart, just watch.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will-” you cut yourself off in frustration, “You’re just all talk-”

Whatever insult on the tip of your tongue - along with all the air in your lungs - is knocked out by Gojo finally pushing in. Finally stretching out your sloppy hole on his thick mushroom tip, all stuttering and clenching in an effort to accommodate him.

He groans, cheeks flushing because fuck maybe this’ll be harder than he thought. “S’gonna work- if I can concen- ohh fuck don’t squeeze me that way- if I can get limitless to- no more late-night convenience store runs.” 

But oh right now the only thing on Gojo’s mind was that maybe you two were better off with walking the two blocks down to buy condoms - because he could feel his limitless slowly thinning out with each inch he sinks into your snug cunt. Slowly waning - much like his fucking sanity. 

“Toru!” you squeal when it’s like something snaps. That little glow in your boyfriend’s eyes dims as his entire body stiffens, breath hitching in his throat, and his cock- oh his aching, rock-hard cock - so warm and just throbbing so rapidly against your walls in a beat that matches your own. You could feel him all the way in your stomach. “D-did it work?”

Something is whispered into the crook of your neck - and you’re craning your head closer to understand. “What?”

There it is again.

This time, however, you pull Gojo from his safe haven, tugging admonishingly on those soft, white locks. All the while murmuring, “Use your- oh.”

Oh.

Fuck. 

Gojo’s eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown. So utterly wrecked when his aching cock grows even larger inside you, stretching you to your limits. Such a delicate pink blush decorating his cheeks, dusting over those plump, parted lips, ones which wobble and gape open noiselessly a few times before he manages out, “D-didn’t work.”

And fuck then it was like a dam had broken. 

Because Gojo’s previously stalled hips were moving now - grinding forward slowly, deliciously. Only growing girthier - so unfairly so - with each movement. 

Two large hands coming up to paw and knead your ass to keep you still while he begins fucking you into the mattress. 

Letting out whiny, bewildered moans - as if Gojo himself couldn’t believe what was happening - “Didn’t work.” He repeats, like a mantra. “Didn’t work didn’t work didn’t- didn’t work- hah- n’ I don’t regret it one bit.”

“H-hah?” you whimper, “So you’re-”

“Yes.” Gojo interjects, and if you were in any better state of mind you’d have told him off for interrupting you. But oh how could you when he was reeling his hips back, back, back, just kissing your sloppy entrance with his leaky tip - before splitting you apart all over again. “Yes yes yes- oh yes. M’feeling you- all of you. Why the fuck didn’t you t-tell me you were so ngh-” Long fingers graze over your pulsing clit, making him all but scream in pleasure when you clamp down. Hard. “-heavenly!”

Fuck you weren’t making it out alive - and he wasn’t either.

And he sounded so genuinely upset - how were you this warm? This dripping wet all around him? Hell, Gojo thinks he’s soaked all the way down to his heavy balls already.

“Soaked?” your eyes widen when Gojo gives you a shocked laugh - fuck, has he finally lost whatever sanity he had left?

“Mhm.” he nods, a familiar glint of madness in those summer blue eyes. Breathy, pussydrunk little ministration matching his words, “Soaked. Absolutely fucking hah- soaked. Me. Me me me- s’me-” Gojo spits into his open palm, once. Twice. Before smearing the mess down his length, making it easier for him to slide in and out of your needy cunt,  “-not some stupid little piece of plastic. Oh, m’never buying those again-”

He was fucking you so needy. 

Just ramming his cock into you as he pleased, hitting all your most sensitive spots - your cervix, your g-spot, tugging at your clit. Having the bed frame and you making such loud noises every time his thick tip was gliding across your gummy walls, matching with the tempo of his fingers.

“It feel so- good, Toru.” you whine. Hips stuttering forwards, making the most lewd of squelches as you try to meet Gojo’s fast, utterly wild pace. “Fuck fuck fuck- oh.”

“Yeah? My baby likes ngh- taking me in r-raw.” you smile when you catch the way Gojo’s face flushes as his voice cracks on that last word - like he still couldn’t believe it himself. 

Though, he didn’t like that quite as much as you. 

“Huh? Laughing at me? M’gonna ngh- you lil’ minx. M’gonna give you something to laugh about.” Each word punctuated by a mean thrust, and if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have caught the way Gojo’s eyes glowed ever-so-slightly. Tiny pricks of purple lightning dancing across his bare skin, “Because practice makes perfect, right, sweetheart?”

A/N. I’m ngl Gojo’s one was just me wondering how far limitless really went sooo there ya go.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

[wonderjanga]

Was wondering about for your post 'captain is a terrible dad' if junior somehow convinces the league through the power of misunderstanding that 'billy' is the newest actual baby of the family? Like maybe tim is talking to junior about his younger siblings(damian stabbing him or smth), and Junior tells him about Billy and since they never heard about him before they think marvel just had another baby? Even worse if you also include the au where people think Marvel and Adam are exes and they think Marvel got close to him again?

Ever since Tim learned about Marvel having a new kid, he’s been thinking about it nonstop. It’s been bugging him and he really wants to ask about it. The only problem? Every time he’s tried to approach Marvel to ask about it, something has question-blocked him.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel, can we talk?”

Marvel: “Sure, what’s up?” *smiles*

Robin!Tim: “Well-”

Marvel: *comm rings and he realizes it’s an emergency* “Sorry, I gotta go. We’ll talk later right?” *flies off*

Eventually, after a week of this, Tim finally got his chance in one of the watchtower’s kitchens.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel , can I ask you something?”

Marvel: “Sure, go ahead.” *stirring something in a bowl*

Tim had spent the past week practicing how the conversation would go, yet didn’t even think about how he would start it.

Robin!Tim: *just decides to rip off the band-aid* “Uh… Why do you keep having kids if you hate them?”

Marvel: *slowly stops stirring his bowl so he stop and stare incredulously*

Robin!Tim: “It’s- It’s the little things. Like the little looks of disgust when they say something a kid their age would say. Or like the blatant disregard you have for their safety. Or the threats of violence.”

Marvel: *puts the bowl down* “What-”

Robin!Tim: “Like isn’t it parenting 101 that you don’t tell your kid they should’ve been lobotomized??”

Marvel: *forgot he said that to Mary the other day* “Uh-”

Robin!Tim: “And then there’s the fact that if I asked, you wouldn’t even be able to tell me where even one of them are at this moment, would you? They could be kidnapped, or lost, or in some other deep shit and you wouldn’t even notice! I haven’t seen this level of negligence in anything other than my own parents, and they didn’t even notice their own child sneaking out at night to take pictures of Batman!”

Marvel: *sounds concerned* “You were neglected-”

Robin!Tim: *grabs a nearby stool, hops on, then stands on his tippy toes so he can look Marvel straight in the face* “And don’t get me started on Black Adam! Why in the world would you even want to get back with him??”

Marvel: *sounds horrified because that inplies they were together at some point* “Who told you that?”

Robin!Tim: “What do you mean who told me that?? It’s obvious to literally everyone!”

Marvel: *looks around as if looking for hidden cameras* “Is it though-”

Robin!Tim: “YES! It is. What on earth could you possibly see in him? There are literally multiple videos of him throwing both you and your kids through buildings.”

Marvel: *goes back to looking for the hidden cameras*

Robin!Tim: *continues his rant* “And then you decided to do the worse possible thing you could do in this situation which was bring in another kid?? What is wrong with you???”

Marvel: *a little speechless but finally gets something out without being cut off for the 50 millionth time* “What do you mean bring in another kid?”

Robin!Tim: “Billy!”

Marvel: “Billy??” *sounds more confused now*

Robin!Tim: “The baby!”

Marvel: “Wha…? Billy isn’t the baby, Darla is??”

Robin!Tim: “Who is Darla???”

Marvel: *realizes he said her actual name* “The purple one.”

Robin!Tim: “She has a name??” *just completely confused now* “Then who’s Billy??”

Marvel: “He’s just some kid that doesn’t have powers.”

Robin!Tim: “He’s not one of your kids…?”

Marvel: “No? I don’t have kids?”

Robin!Tim: “Then how are you related to Junior and Mary and all the other kids??”

Marvel: “We’re siblings? They have a mom and a dad, Robin.”

Robin!Tim: *pauses* “That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you let a bunch of preteens run around fighting crime on their own, unsupervised. Also why are you so much older than them if you’re siblings?”

Solomon: “Say they’re several thousands of years old.”

Marvel: “They’re all several thousands of years old. They’re not idiots. They can fight on their own. As for me? I’m several tens of thousands of years old.”

Robin!Tim: *dumbfounded*

Marvel: “Now what was this about being neglected by your parents?”

Marvel then proceeded to get Tim to trauma dump about his parents, about his vigilante life, and about everything else.

Robin!Tim: “I just can’t believe they didn’t notice!”

Marvel: “That’s terrible.” *hands him the bowl from earlier*

Robin!Tim: “I know!” *absent-minded, stirring of bowl*

By the way, I almost finished this and then lost all the progress so I had to redo all of this. If I hadn’t lost all the progress, it would’ve came out yesterday night. So unfortunately, you’re stuck with the shittier version of this post as I continue to ride off the waves of anger that I still feel boiling inside of me. Rewriting this post made me almost crash out at 12:35 in the morning.

[pucksandpower]

Welcome to Miami

Lando Norris x Messi!Reader

Summary: a crazy weekend in Miami leaves Lando with his first Formula 1 win, one very pissed off football legend, and a baby-shaped surprise set to arrive in just about nine months

Warnings: 18+ content and unplanned pregnancy

Note: based on a request by @glitterquadricorn that I may have ended up going a little overboard with

You wake up with a pounding headache, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the hotel room window. As you blink your eyes into focus, you realize you’re not in your own bed. The sheets are unfamiliar, the decor is generic and impersonal.

Panic starts to set in as you try to reconstruct the previous night’s events.

The space next to you is still warm, indented from where someone else was recently lying. You glance down at your lack of clothes and tousled hair. Yep, definitely had a one-night stand.

Wracking your brain, you vaguely recall meeting a charming stranger at the club, letting him buy you drinks until everything became a blur of flirtatious banter and wandering hands.

Your phone is on the nightstand and you grab it, hoping for some clues. A new contact catches your eye: “Lando 🍆”. You snort at the stupid name and obvious (if cringey) innuendo. At least he has a sense of humor.

You wonder what kind of guy calls himself Lando these days.

As you get dressed and leave the hotel, already trying to put the awkward walk of shame behind you, fragments of the night come back in flashes. Lando’s warm blue-green eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed. His skilled hands roaming over your body. The way he whispered filthy praises in your ear between searing kisses.

You shiver, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment that you’ll never see him again. But a one-night stand is just that — one night. No need to dwell on the best sex you’ve had in … well, maybe ever.

When you arrive home in the early afternoon, your dad greets you at the door with a knowing smirk.

“Have a good night, mija?” Leo teases, taking in your mussed appearance.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to give him any details. “It was fine.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

Over the next few weeks, you put Lando out of your mind completely. Your life goes on as normal — training with the University of Miami’s football team, doing promotional appearances, and spending time with family and friends.

But then one morning about a month later, you wake up feeling nauseous. You brush it off as a stomach bug at first.

When the queasiness persists for several days along with strange cravings and bouts of fatigue, a nagging suspicion forms in your mind. You dig through your bathroom cabinets until you find an old pregnancy test leftover from a scare last year.

Your hands are shaking as you wait for the result. This can’t be happening. You were so careful with Lando, you’re almost certain … but maybe not careful enough.

The little plastic wand displays two solid pink lines. Positive.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you.

How could you have been so stupid? Getting knocked up from a drunken one-night stand with a guy you can’t even remember properly. What are you going to do? How will you tell your parents? What about your athletic career?

A million thoughts race through your panic-stricken mind as you try to process this massive, life-altering situation. You want to call your best friend and cry, but you’re almost too overwhelmed to formulate words.

Part of you wants to be furious at Lando, that reckless idiot who came inside you so carelessly. But you know you’re just as much to blame. You obviously consented, you just can’t recollect the exact circumstances.

God, why did you let yourself get so sloppy drunk and make such terrible decisions?

You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. Okay, first things first — you need to confirm this with a visit to the doctor. And if it’s still positive, you’ll have to figure out your next steps. Tell your family, decide whether to keep the baby or not. That’s still your choice, at least.

Your mind keeps drifting back to Lando, wishing you knew more about him than just a stupid contact name. Was that even his real name? What did he do for a living? Where was he from? Was he ready for the responsibility of being a father? Not that it mattered — you barely knew him. For all you knew, he could be married or secretly twisted.

No, you reason with yourself, trying to shut down that line of thinking, he seemed like a good guy. At least in the moment. Even through your tequila-soaked haze, you got a feeling of genuine warmth and kindness from him. Maybe you’re both just a couple of random people who made a reckless mistake after having too much fun together.

You take another breath and stand up, your mind made up. First, you’ll go to the doctor and get an official test. Then you’ll deal with everything else from there. There’s no use panicking until you confirm this is actually happening.

But deep down, you know this cheap little test is accurate. You’re pregnant with a virtual stranger’s baby. And in that moment, feeling so lost and overwhelmed and terrified, you can’t help but wonder — who the hell is Lando?

***

You sit on the couch, hands trembling as you clutch the results of your blood test. Tears stream down your face as the weight of the situation crushes down on you.

How could you have been so reckless? So stupid? You’re supposed to be a role model, setting an example for young girls. And now you’re pregnant from a one-night stand with some random guy.

The shame and fear swirl inside you until you can barely breathe. You need to tell your dad. He’ll be so disappointed in you. But you can’t keep this a secret, it will only get harder as your belly grows.

You hear the front door open and your dad’s familiar footsteps. Bracing yourself, you call out in a shaky voice, “Papa? Can you come here please?”

Leo wanders into the living room, his expression turning to immediate concern when he sees your tear-stained face. “Mija, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as you try to find the words. “I … I’m pregnant,” you finally choke out.

His eyes go wide with shock. “Pregnant? How …” Realization dawns on his face. “Was this from that night you came home ...” He doesn’t need to finish the question.

You nod miserably, a fresh wave of tears falling. “I’m so sorry, Papa. I was drunk and stupid and … and I don’t even know who the father is, not really.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Just some guy I met at a club, his name was Lando or something. I barely remember anything!”

To your surprise, your dad’s expression softens into something like sympathy instead of the anger or disappointment you expected. He moves to sit beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Shh, it’s alright mija. I’m not happy about this situation, but I’m not angry at you either. We all make mistakes.” He pauses, seeming to think something over. “This Lando guy … was it around the time of the Miami Grand Prix in early May?”

You nod again, not understanding the connection. “I think so, why?”

A look of recognition crosses your dad’s face. “There’s a young driver in Formula 1. I’m a bit of a fan actually, been following his career when I have the chance. It’s not the most common name.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the pieces fall into place. The drunk recollections of warm color-changing eyes and a charming smile. The weird name followed by that stupid eggplant emoji in your contacts.

It all fits.

“Oh my god … you think the father is Lando Norris? Like, the Formula 1 driver?” Part of you wants to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but another part feels an undeniable certainty that your dad has hit the nail on the head.

Leo nods firmly. “I think it’s highly likely. He was in Miami for the race that weekend. Reckless kid probably went out partying after finally managing to win.”

There’s a hard edge to your dad’s voice at that last part. You can’t really blame his protectiveness — finding out your daughter is pregnant from a one-night stand, especially with a relative celebrity, can’t be easy for any father.

“What am I going to do?” You whisper, scared all over again at the massive upheaval your life is facing.

But your dad just pulls you into a tighter hug, his touch reassuring and strong. “We’ll figure it out together, mija. Don’t worry. If this Lando character is the father, he’ll damn well take responsibility. I’ll make sure of it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting your dad’s words soothe you. He’s right — you’re not in this alone. And if Lando Norris really is the father, well, he signed up for this whether he knew it or not.

“Thank you, Papa. I was so scared to tell you, but I shouldn’t have been. I’m lucky to have you.” You hug him fiercely, fresh tears spilling but this time born of reassurance instead of fear.

Leo just holds you close, his embrace full of fatherly love and protection. “Always, mija. I’ve got your back, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

After a few moments, he pulls back, his expression turning more stern. “And as for this Lando kid, he better step up and be a man about this situation. Because if he tries to abandon you or this baby ...” He lets the implied threat hang in the air.

You can’t help but give a watery laugh. “I have a feeling he won’t want to mess with you. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

Your dad allows a small smile at that. “Smart boy. Now, do you have a way to contact him? I’m sure someone can get us his information if not.”

You think for a moment, then remember — your phone contacts. You grab your cell and pull up the fateful entry.

“Here, just this number with the stupid eggplant emoji.” Your cheeks flush a little as you say it.

Leo arches an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes out his own phone and dials the number, his expression hardening with determination.

“Right, listen up, Lando Norris ...” he begins, leaving no room for argument.

You take a steadying breath as your dad starts laying down the law to the man who knocked up his precious daughter. For the first time since staring at those two pink lines, you feel a tiny kernel of hope taking root.

No matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Your dad has your back, and Lando — well, Lando better prepare himself. Because when Leo Messi demands you take responsibility for your actions, you don’t dare say no.

***

Lando jolts awake to the harsh buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. He blinks blearily at the harsh red numbers of the alarm clock — 2:51 am. Who the hell is calling at this ungodly hour?

He fumbles for the phone, squinting at the unknown number with a +1 country code. Probably a spam call from across the pond. He’s tempted to just silence it, but something makes him swipe to answer with a groggy “Hello?”

“Lando Norris?” The deep voice on the other end is vaguely familiar, but Lando can’t quite place it in his sleep-addled state.

“Yeah, this is him. Who’s this?” He tries and fails to smoother a huge yawn.

“This is Lionel Messi.”

Lando’s eyes shoot wide open, any lingering drowsiness evaporating like he’s been doused with ice water. Leo freaking Messi is on the phone with him? His brain scrambles to comprehend what’s happening.

“I … uh … Mr. Messi, sir. This is … I mean … wow. What an honor!” He cringes at his own stammering, feeling very much like a star-struck fanboy rather than a fellow professional athlete.

Messi’s voice remains calm but firm. “I’ll get right to the point. Do you remember a young woman you slept with recently? The night of the Miami Grand Prix a few months ago?”

Lando feels his stomach drop out. Suddenly this phone call is taking on a very different context than just a casual chat with a sports legend. He racks his brain, trying to recall the handful of women he’d casually hooked up with around that time.

There was that petite blonde from the club after sprint qualifying … no, she was just a make-out in the back alley behind the valet. The pair of Brazilian bombshell twins he’d brought back to his hotel room on Saturday … no, they made him get tested after that escapade just to be safe.

Then it clicks into place — the gorgeous young woman with a killer smile that he’d met at the LIV Nightclub afterparty. They had danced and drank together all night until everything descended into a sweaty, semi-public grope fest in one of the VIP booths before he convinced her to come back to his suite.

He remembers her gasping and whimpering his name as he pounded into her from behind. Remembers the way her nails raked down his back when he made her come apart with his tongue. Remembers being too drunk and worked up to put on a condom before sinking back into her tight, wet heat and ...

Oh shit.

“I … yes, sir. I think I know who you’re referring to,” Lando forces out, his mouth incredibly dry.

“Good. Then you’ll remember getting my daughter pregnant that night as well.”

Lando actually feels the blood drain from his face, a rushing sound filling his ears. He must have misheard, right? There’s no way Leo freaking Messi just said Lando got his daughter pregnant!

“I … I’m sorry … your what?” He sputters out dumbly.

Messi’s tone takes on a steely edge. “My daughter. The young woman you slept with, she’s my daughter. And now she’s pregnant with your child.”

The room starts to spin. Lando tries to force air into his lungs, feeling like he might actually pass out. “Oh my god, I … I had no idea! We were both so drunk, I never would have … oh fuck, I’m so sorry, sir!”

“Sorry doesn’t really fix this, does it?” Messi’s voice is like sharpened steel. “You got my little girl pregnant from some drunken fling and now she has to deal with all of this.”

“I … yes, you’re right. Completely right.” Lando presses trembling fingers to his throbbing temples. This can’t actually be happening, right? “What … what do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, whatever you need!”

There’s a weighted pause on the line before Messi speaks again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“First, you’re going to meet with me and my daughter in person so we can discuss this situation. Then you’re going to take responsibility and be a part of this child’s life, understood? Step up and be a man about it.”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, of course!” Lando is nearly shouting into the phone, desperation and panic clawing at his throat. “Whatever you want, sir. I’ll be there. Just tell me when and where.”

“Good. I’ll have my people set it up and send the details to your team.” There’s a hint of grudging approval in Messi’s voice now, like he’s satisfied Lando appears to be taking this seriously. “I suggest you get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”

The line goes dead before Lando can respond. He stares dumbly at the silent phone in his hand for several long moments, trying to process everything.

Leo Messi’s daughter.

Pregnant.

With his baby.

Holy shit, what has he done? What is he going to do? How did one reckless, drunken night blow up into such a massive catastrophe?

His head is spinning and he can feel his overtaxed body starting to shut down from the shock and stress of the harrowing phone call. He tries to take a deep breath, pushing away the panic and leaning back against the pillows.

Sleep. Right. He needs sleep if he has any hope of dealing with … with all of this. But how can he possibly rest now?

Lando’s eyes start to drift closed despite his whirling thoughts. His body has other plans, sucking him under into blessed unconsciousness as he slumps fully back onto the mattress.

The last thing he’s dimly aware of is his phone slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor, followed by his own body going entirely limp.

When Lando finally does manage to sleep, it’s to the terrifying vision of Leo Messi’s furious face snarling “you got my daughter pregnant” over and over again behind his closed eyelids.

***

The flight from Nice to Miami feels like it takes an eternity, but also happens in a terrifying blur. Lando can barely remember booking the first available ticket, throwing some clothes into an overnight bag, or making his way to the airport in a daze. He runs on autopilot, his mind spinning in frantic circles.

He got Leo Messi’s daughter pregnant. How is this his life?

A private chauffeur is waiting at the baggage claim when Lando deplanes in Miami, holding up a printed sign with his name. Of course Messi would have people to handle something like this.

Lando swallows hard and approaches the stern-faced driver. “I’m Lando Norris. Uh, Mr. Messi is expecting me?”

The chauffeur gives him an appraising look but doesn’t respond beyond a curt nod. He turns on his heel, expecting Lando to follow.

The drive to the Messis’ palatial Miami mansion is silent and tense. Lando fights the urge to fidget anxiously, his knee bouncing until he forces himself still.

Get it together, man. This is it.

All too soon, they’re pulling through an immaculate gate onto perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the huge home. Lando takes a steadying breath as the driver gets his bag from the trunk.

Then the front door is swinging open and there’s Leo Messi himself, looking as intimidating as Lando has ever seen the football icon. His expression is stony, jaw clenched tight as he measures Lando up.

Before Lando can even open his mouth, Messi beats him to it, tone leaving no room for argument.

“I don’t like you.”

The words are like a kick to the gut. Lando forces himself to hold the steely gaze, giving a small nod.

“I understand, sir. I’ve made a terrible mistake and you have every right to be angry with me. I’ll accept whatever consequences I have to.” His voice is strong, despite the way his heart is jack-hammering in his chest.

Messi holds the intense eye contact a moment more before giving a short nod of what might be begrudging respect. He turns and heads inside, clearly expecting Lando to follow.

The foyer opens into an elegant living room where a familiar woman is sitting on one of the plush couches.

You.

Lando’s breath catches in his throat as memories from that hazy night come rushing back. Your skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved rhythmically to the music. Your throaty laugh and sparkling eyes as you flirted shamelessly over your fourth … no fifth … mojito. The velvet silk of your hair brushing his face as you ground down against his lap.

He swallows hard, trying not to stare. The situation is awkward enough without dwelling on the admittedly incredible sex that caused this whole mess. Though he can’t deny the sharp spike of pure physical want that hits his gut at the sight of you.

Your eyes are wide and nervous as you take him in. “Um … hi.”

“Hi,” he replies simply, feeling incredibly self-conscious under the weighty stare of your legendary father.

An agonizing beat of silence stretches between the three of you.

“Well?” Leo prompts impatiently, making you both jump. “You got my daughter pregnant. What do you plan to do about it?”

The blunt words make Lando’s face flush hot, but he forces himself to meet your father’s stern gaze head-on.

“Whatever I need to do, sir. I’ll take full responsibility. Financially, emotionally, being there for the child … anything you need from me.” He pauses, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. “That is … if the mother wants me to be involved as well?”

He looks at you then, trying to convey his sincerity. Despite the casual nature of your hook-up, he meant what he said — he will step up and do the right thing for this kid.

His kid.

You seem to consider his words for a long moment before giving a small nod. “Yes … yes, I’d like you to be involved if you’re willing. This is as much my responsibility as yours. We … we can figure this out. Together?”

The uncertain note in your voice tugs at something in Lando’s chest. For all your father’s bluster, you just sound like a young woman in a scary, overwhelming situation. Just like him.

“Together,” he agrees firmly, returning your nod. “We’ll, ah, we’ll be good co-parents. For the baby.”

The words feel strange leaving his lips, but also fill him with a sense of resolve and determination.

Leo watches the exchange between you both like a hawk, his expression unreadable. When he speaks again, his words are measured but dismissive.

“Get it sorted out then. Find a way to make this work. I don’t care about the details as long as you two take care of my grandchild properly.”

With that, he gives a curt nod and turns to exit the room, leaving you and Lando to your own devices. The sudden lack of his intimidating presence seems to deflate the tension somewhat.

You let out a long, shaky breath, shooting Lando a wry look. “He’s … taking this about as well as could be expected, all things considered.”

Lando can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the nervous knot in his stomach loosening slightly. “Yeah, I’ll say. Your dad is legitimately terrifying, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you say with a small smile.

An odd sense of camaraderie falls over you both then — two young people bonding over how Lando quite literally knocked you up. It’s almost enough for him to relax a bit.

Then you glance down at your still-flat stomach and all humor drains away. “So … co-parents, huh? You really want to do this?”

Lando doesn’t even have to think about it. “Of course. It’s my kid too, yeah? My responsibility, like I said.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not exactly how I pictured becoming a father, but … I’m in this all the way. For the little one’s sake.”

Something in your expression softens at his words and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you, Lando. That … that really means a lot to hear.”

Before he can think better of it, Lando closes the distance between you and pulls you into an impulsive hug. You stiffen for just a moment before relaxing against him.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay, you and me,” he murmurs as he holds you close. “We’ve got this, baby mama.”

You stiffen again and pull back sharply at the words, a look of mortification on your face. Lando frowns in confusion until a familiar gravelly voice cuts through the room.

“Lando Norris, I swear if you ever call my daughter that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Leo Messi is back, leveling Lando with a look that would liquefy steel. The driver nearly swallows his tongue, flushing scarlet.

“Y-yes, sir! Of course, sir! It, ah, it won’t happen again!” He stammers out, mentally making a note to permanently delete those words from his vocabulary.

Messi just grunts in response, apparently satisfied, before retreating from the room once more.

You’re staring at Lando with wide eyes and badly-suppressed laughter. He groans, dropping his face into his hands.

“Why did I say that? God, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, that smile breaking free. “This is just … all a bit surreal, isn’t it?”

Lando peeks through his fingers to meet your gaze, unable to stop the rueful grin that spreads across his own face.

“Just a bit, yeah.” He drops his hands with a defeated chuckle. “But your dad’s right — we’ve got to take this seriously for the little one.”

You nod, smile fading into a look of grim determination. “We do. Which means you can’t call me baby mama if you actually want to stay alive to see your child.”

“Deal,” Lando agrees readily, feeling lighter than he has since your father first called to drop that bomb on him.

Maybe co-parenting won’t be easy, but somehow he gets the sense you two just might be able to figure it out. And with the entire weight of Leo freaking Messi’s protective rage motivating him, Lando is damn sure going to try his best.

***

Ten Months Later

The vibrant Miami sun beams down on you as you carefully lift Maia out of her stroller, cradling the bundle of joy in your arms. Your daughter’s wide, curious eyes dart around, taking in all the sights and sounds of the paddock for the first time.

“There they are! My two favorite girls,” Lando’s voice rings out as he jogs over, already wearing his team gear in preparation for the drivers parade. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to Maia. “And how’s my little princess doing today?”

Maia lets out a delighted squeal and you can’t help but smile at the pure adoration on Lando’s face as he gently brushes a finger over her chubby cheek. “She’s been an angel all morning. I think she knows this is a big day for her first race.”

“That’s my girl,” Lando grins. “Going to be a little racer before we know it.”

“Lando! There you are, mate.” The Aussie accent cuts through the paddock as Lando’s teammate bounds over. “I’ve been looking everywhere for … oh wow, is that her?”

Oscar’s eyes go wide as they land on Maia, taking in her tiny features with an almost comical look of awe. “She’s … she’s so small,” he says dumbly.

“What did you expect, she’s a baby,” Lando scoffs with a roll of his eyes, though his tone is good-natured. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Oscar asks eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overexcited puppy.

You laugh and carefully transfer Maia into Oscar’s waiting arms, guiding his hands to properly support her head. “Just watch the grabby hands. She’s got a pretty strong grip these days.”

Oscar nods rapidly, looking a bit intimidated as he gingerly cradles Maia against his chest. But the instant she lets out a little gurgling coo, his face splits into the biggest, most boyish grin you’ve ever seen.

“Hey there, little Norris,” he murmurs softly, instantly transfixed. “I’m your favorite Uncle Oscar.”

“Oi, who said you get to be the favorite uncle?” Another voice cuts in as Carlos saunters over, immediately zeroing in on the form in Oscar’s arms. “Is that her? Dios mio, she’s gorgeous!”

Without hesitation, Carlos plucks Maia right out of Oscar’s hold, completely ignoring the other driver’s sputtering. “Well hello there, princesa. Don’t worry, your Tío Carlos has got you.”

Maia blinks up at the new face peering down at her, tiny fists waving as if to grab at the Spaniard’s perfectly coiffed hair. Carlos simply grins and nuzzles his nose against her cheek, seemingly not caring one bit about any damage the squirming infant in his arms can do.

“Are you seeing this?” Lando mock-whispers to you, looping an arm around your waist and leaning in conspiratorially. “How are we supposed to get her back now?”

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, watching in amusement as Carlos and Oscar descend into bickering over who Maia’s favorite uncle will be — only to be interrupted as another figure appears beside them.

“What do we have here?” Daniel Ricciardo pipes up with a wide grin, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “Don’t tell me you two are fighting over babysitting duties already?”

“Something like that, mate,” Lando chuckles, reaching out to clap Daniel on the shoulder in greeting. “Up for putting your name in the hat too?”

“You know it!” Daniel agrees easily, quickly sidestepping Carlos to peer down at Maia with a wide smile. “Hey there, little monkey. Look at you all bright-eyed and curious.”

Amazingly, Maia seems entirely unperturbed by all the fussing going on around her. She simply blinks placidly up at each new face, soaking it all in like a tiny sponge. At one point, she even lets out a delighted squeal and flails her arms — prompting a fresh round of cooing from the three drivers clustered around her.

“Aw, I think she likes me best already,” Daniel declares with a wink, gently booping Maia’s button nose and making her giggle.

You shake your head in fond exasperation even as Lando tugs you tighter against his side, completely content to bask in the scene. That is, until Daniel’s next words nearly make you choke.

“So just how old is this little angel?” He asks idly, eyes still trained on Maia’s sweet face. “Four months now?”

“Three months and one week,” Lando answers automatically — only to tense a split second later, mouth falling open in realization. “Oh. Oh.”

The smug grin that slowly spreads across Daniel’s face is borderline devlish as it clicks into place for everyone exactly when Maia would have been … well, conceived. A heavy silence falls over the group, disturbed only by Maia’s happy gurgling as she remains oblivious to the sudden shift.

“Well, well, well,” Daniel drawls, dark eyes dancing with mirth as he bounces Maia playfully in his arms. “I think someone got a little overexcited celebrating his win last year, didn’t he?”

The only response is a strangled squawk from Lando as his face flushes bright red — no doubt remembering exactly how the two of you celebrated his first time on top of the Formula 1 podium. Meanwhile, Carlos and Oscar openly gape at the revelation, eyes nearly bugging out of their skulls.

“Don’t you dare,” Lando manages to choke out, stabbing an accusatory finger in Daniel’s direction. “We are not having this conversation here.”

“Why not?” Daniel shrugs blithely, gently jostling Maia to the crook of his elbow in a way that has her giggling. “It’s a perfectly natural thing, nothing to be ashamed about. That must’ve been one hell of a victory lap!”

The innuendo hangs heavily in the air, made all the more mortifying by the lecherous waggle of Daniel’s eyebrows. Lando, meanwhile, looks like he’s two seconds away from spontaneously combusting on the spot.

“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters through gritted teeth, dragging a hand over his rapidly reddening face.

Before Daniel can respond with another quip, however, you quickly step in — scooping Maia out of his arms with a stern glare. “That’s enough of that, I think.”

Daniel wisely snaps his mouth shut at the warning in your tone, offering a cheeky salute instead. “I’ll lay off … for now.”

With a wink and a last jaunty grin towards a still-sputtering Lando, he bids the group farewell and heads off to prepare for the race. Oscar, seemingly remembering you’re all congregating in a very public place, manages to pick his jaw up off the ground long enough to clear his throat awkwardly.

“Right, well … I need to go, you know, do driver things,” he mumbles before beating a hasty retreat, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.

Carlos, for his part, has the audacity to start outright cackling the second Oscar is out of earshot.

“You never fail to entertain,” he manages between wheezing gasps, wiping away mirthful tears from the corners of his eyes.

Lando flushes even deeper, if possible, and shoots you a helpless look. You simply raise an eyebrow, letting him squirm for a moment before taking pity.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” you chide Carlos lightly, shifting Maia higher on your hip. “Unless you want to be the one explaining the birds and the bees to her when the time comes?”

That seems to sober Carlos up somewhat, his laughter trailing off into a few more chuckles as he waves a hand dismissively. “You wound me, amiga. As if I would corrupt the ears of such an innocent little one.”

You give him a pointed look and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

With a roguish wink, Carlos reaches out to gently pinch Maia’s cheek — earning a bright smile from the bubbly infant.

“You’ll learn soon enough that your papá can be un poco loco sometimes, princesa.”

“She really doesn’t need to learn that at all, thanks,” Lando grumbles, shooting his friend an exasperated glare.

You can’t help but shake your head fondly at the pair of them, even as Lando tucks you snugly against his side. For all their bickering, it’s abundantly clear just how enamored all the drivers are with Maia already.

The tender moment is interrupted, however, by a voice calling out for your boyfriend from across the paddock.

“Lando, we need you over in the garage. The parade will be starting any minute now,” a press officer arrives to herd him away.

Lando exhales a put-upon sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of Maia’s head before meeting your gaze apologetically. “Duty calls, I suppose. You’ll be okay here with my littlest fan club?”

You wave him off with a warm smile. “We’ll be fine. Just focus on having a good race, yeah? Maia and I will be cheering you on.”

The brilliant grin Lando flashes you is enough to make your heart flutter. “How could I do anything else with my two favorite cheerleaders?”

With one last lingering kiss, he tears himself away — offering a half-hearted wave to Carlos before disappearing through the paddock. An oddly serene quiet falls in his absence, the crowd breaking up to get settled before the race.

Carlos seems to sense your pensive mood, stepping up beside you to gently bump his shoulder against yours.

“You know, he really has changed since becoming a papá,” the older driver muses, casting a fond look down at Maia. “Far as I can tell, it’s done wonders for him.”

You smile softly, bouncing Maia gently as you watch Lando’s retreating back weave through the controlled chaos of the paddock. “He’s been … amazing. And he loves Maia more than life itself. My father complains that he has run out of things to threaten Lando over, which is the biggest compliment coming from him.”

Your daughter simply blinks at the two of you for a long moment before that sunny smile you’ve grown to adore stretches across her face, little fists waving happily in the air. You can’t help but chuckle at her antics, brushing a knuckle over her soft cheek.

As the bright Miami sun shines down and anticipation slowly builds in the background, you feel a surge of nearly overwhelming contentment. No matter what twists and turns life throws your way from here, you decide, you’ll always be able to find your way back to moments like this.

So much has changed in the course of a year, but you truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if Lando still can’t quite look your father in the eye.

[rotthepoet]

Bsf!theo casually being your secret hookup friend and makes it really obvious but also denies it too anyone who asks 🤡

MWAH‼️ (thats me kissing your clever brain because i love it)

I think it would begin as an actual genuine friendship. You two just get along so well, studying together, sitting by each other in the great hall, gossiping and giggling as one does. Theo just adores you, you’re the light of his life tbh

But i mean. You have needs. He has needs. It happens for the first time after a late night smoke sesh. You’re laughing and joking around and you’re play fighting. Start shoving each other around, all fun and games. You end up on your back, Theo on top of you. And like. It’s all silent for a minute. Just a minute. Then just… you both feel the energy shift and you’re making out on the floor. Its messy and he’s groping you, feeling everything he can, kissing down your neck, and really one thing leads to another and you’re in his bed taking it doggy style.

And yeah, It was really just supposed to be a one time thing. Nothing should change. You were just high and horny at the same time, it’s not weird unless you make it weird.

But then… it just… keeps happening.

And neither of you are in any rush to stop it.

Lets take a pause, just one moment please and thank you. I just want to say I think Theodore has a very high sex drive. Gets his mind off things, considers it a workout, and it just feels good. He is a gorgeous man, so its not hard to find willing partners but something just hits harder here. Maybe its the thrill of sneaking around. The knowledge that he’s fucking his friend on the regular and then pretending it never happened.

He stops seeing as many people- obvs not cutting everyone off because hes a bit of a man whore(he doesn’t want you to get sick of him)- and he doesnt even realize it. He just… likes you more than all his other hoes🙏

Anyways! Its kinda obvious that Theo and you have something going on. Prolonged glances at each other, biting your lip at him, him grazing his hands over your hips while he whispers something in your ear that makes you blush. Man goes out of his way to “subtly” slap your ass.

Its Draco and his big mouth that say anything first. Their whole crew is sitting in the Common Room, just idly chatting and playing cards. When conversation eventually gets stale, Draco sits back and looks Theodore dead in the eyes. “Nott, are you dating that… “friend” of yours?”

And he means it in a cheeky teasing way. Because how can Theodore Nott, local playboy, be settling down?

And Draco expected a solid “yes, and what of it?”

He didn’t expect the most casual “nah” anyone could muster.

And heads turn, Blaise raising a brow because he was certain you and Theo were an official item. Questions begin rising, and Theo just shrugs them all off like its all rumors.

“So you aren’t hooking up with them?”

Nope

“Youre really just that touchy? It came out of no where.”

Dunno, mate, shit happens and people change.

And he’s biting back a smirk because his mind is on you again and suddenly he’s faking a yawn and excusing himself to many protests. He misses your body(he misses you he misses you so bad its genuinely such a distressing feeling in his chest when he cant see you all day)

He swallows all those feelings though. Youre just a friend.. with benefits? Just a friend with benefits. Nothing more. He doesn’t even like tear up a little bit when you play with his hair after he finishes. Like. Its not that deep.(it is that deep. Its so deep. Its miles deep. Hes so down bad.)

And its not like hes ever going to admit it. Hes just gonna keep hooking up with you and pushing those feelings away.

Swallowing those feelings won’t stop him from punching some dude for dancing a little too close to you at a party, though.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Take Care Of Me 🪢

⚣🪢 A/N → Another request from my first account is finished! Sorry for how long it took but I hope you enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Alpha Jason Todd | Omega Male Reader | African-American Male Reader | Ruts | Rough Sex | Oral Sex | Fingering | Knotting | Bondage | ETC

⚣🪢 Summary → As a side effect of Jason being healed and resurrected in the Lazarus pits, his ruts have grown more intense. He's resigned to suffering through them alone until he realizes the longer he goes without knotting an Omega, the stronger they will get. So he decides to reach out to Y/N...

⚣🪢 Words → 12.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🪢

Jason could be such an irresponsible, stubborn little shit sometimes.

“Y/N, chill out. I don’t need you to always take care of me,” Jason grumbled as the smaller male forced him to sit on the toilet in his bathroom while he patched and mended his wounds.

“Apparently, you do doofus, since you always end up showing up on my balcony a bloody and bruised mess. I swear, Jason, one of these days you’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t just start learning to ask for help,” Y/N scolded as he applied an anesthetic to a nasty blade wound on the vigilante’s arm. Any deeper and Jason wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it to Y/N’s before he passed out from blood loss.

“Been there, done that sweetheart,” Jason smirked.

Y/N rolled his eyes at him while wrapping the gauze and bandage around his admittedly large bicep, “You’re insufferable.”

“But, you still love me,” Jason confidently stated, standing to his feet after Y/N put on the last bandage.

“Regretfully,” Y/N retorted as he packed away his medical supplies. Ever since that first night he and Jason met, the Omega kept his med kit stocked, even splurging on a few extra items he would need for certain wounds that only a trip to the ER would be able to treat.

Y/N's sight turned to the muscular Alpha standing beside him, watching from the corner of his eyes as he checked his wounds and grabbed his shirt and gear from the ground. Even though they were only friends, the Omega couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards the vigilante.

He didn’t know if it was romantic or just sexual, but it was something. But, seeing the life Jason had and his choice of career, he decided it’d be better if he didn’t indulge himself in that, no matter how badly he wanted to.

They’d met a couple of years prior when Y/N had first moved to Gotham. Since he was new to the city, he didn’t understand the dos and don’ts and would consistently go for walks late at night when most people would usually be inside by then with the doors and windows locked.

As one can imagine, this eventually led him to trouble when one random night, he got ambushed by some thugs. At first, they were going to just mug him, but when they realized he was an Omega, their intentions slightly changed with a very undesirable end for Y/N.

Thankfully, an angel came to his rescue in the form of the famous vigilante, Red Hood. He’d knocked out the two Alphas cornering the Omega against the wall and scaring off the one Beta before coming over to help the Omega off the ground.

Of course, there was the cliché moment where the rescued victim thanks their savior gleefully and they slowly glance at each other, feeling a deep connection before they fall in love and swoop off into the night. Well, at least it could’ve gone like that.

As Red Hood was checking to make sure the Omega was okay and escorting him out the alleyway, they both missed one of the other Alphas getting back to their feet and grabbing their weapon off the ground before charging at the vigilante. He was able to fight him off and knock him out, but not before taking some pretty nasty cuts that would’ve been lethal had he not reacted quickly.

When Y/N realized how badly he was injured, he helped him back to his apartment where he thankfully had barely enough supplies in his first-aid kit to stop the initial bleeding and patch him up enough. The Omega suggested taking him to the hospital, but Red Hood turned it down.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got some people who’ll take good care of me. But, you be careful out there. No more late-night walks in this city, got it?”

After that night, Y/N didn’t see Red Hood for some time until a few weeks later when he showed up on his balcony again, bruised and battered and in dire need of some medical aid. Why he didn’t go to his ‘people’ but rather going to a random Omega he’d only met some weeks prior was beyond him, but he didn’t complain.

Eventually, with enough visits, they went from random strangers to somewhat trusted acquaintances, until eventually, they were seeing each other so much, a lot of the time the vigilante not needing any medical attention, just checking in on the Omega that they became friends.

Now, just a couple of years later, Y/N knew not just Red Hood, but the man behind the hood and under the skin-tight gear which he did not ogle regularly. He didn’t! Stop looking at him like that!

“Ah, you don’t mean that,” Jason said while putting his shirt back on.

He turned to the Omega who’d just put away his med kit back under the sink before looking at him and placing his hands against the sink, leaning back for support.

“You can’t tell me what I mean,” Y/N replied.

“Yes, I can. You always say I'm insufferable, but never mean it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so kind to let me into your apartment every time I need your delicate touch," Jason teased.

And for whatever reason, Jason saying that sparked a bit of arousal in Y/N's stomach, but he chose to ignore it.

"Whatever," Y/N replied with an eye roll while pressing himself against the sink as he noticed the sudden closeness between him and Jason, not even noticing that the Alpha had got closer, almost boxing him against the sink, "Um, sir? Why are you so close? This bathroom is already small enough, and you're not helping by taking up so much space here."

Y/N didn't even want to turn around and look in the mirror, knowing that Jason's towering and bulky frame shown in the mirror compared to his smaller and softer one would cause very sinful thoughts in his mind. Not that he hadn't had these thoughts before.

"I'm not taking up any more space than you are, shorty," Jason retorted.

"That's a bold-faced lie. We both know I'm a perfectly respectable height. You're just giant," Y/N replied.

Jason chuckled, his laugh making the Omega's body feel all tingly and warm. It didn't help that the sound seemed to resonate from the Alpha's chest, the vibrations from his laugh reaching Y/N's own, causing the smaller male to bite his bottom lip.

"Maybe there'd be more room if you got rid of the ridiculous number of lotions and creams you have in here," Jason spoke lowly, subtly getting closer to the Omega while leaning more into his space.

"You leave me and my lotions alone. Don't get mad at me because I don't allow myself to be ashy, which speaking of it, you probably need some help with. Then again, that could just be your caucasianess," Y/N said, gesturing a hand over Jason's body where his pale and ivory skin was exposed.

Jason chuckled, "Why do you always have to go and attack my skin color?"

"Because, unlike you, I'm not an enemy of the sun," Y/N replied.

"Okay, just because I lack melanin doesn't make you better than me."

"Hmm, I think it does," Y/N joked.

"You're an asshole."

"But, you still love me," Y/N replied, mocking Jason's earlier words.

Y/N noticed again the space becoming much smaller between him and the Alpha, and it was not doing much to help quell the growing arousal he was already feeling in his body. He and Jason already had a platonic bond, since Jason would constantly scent mark him on his wrists and leave clothes for the Omega to wear whenever he knew the smaller male was going out into the city by himself.

The gesture was appreciated, and Y/N was flattered that the vigilante was concerned for his well-being, but having his clothes filled with the Alpha's scent wasn't helping his already developing feelings for the Alpha.

"You're still getting closer," Y/N breathed.

"And you're still not stopping me," Jason replied, his voice a low and husky rumble, making the Omega's toes curl in his shoes.

"I...uh," Y/N tried to think of a response, his brain feeling fuzzy.

A few quiet seconds passed before something passed over Jason's eyes, seemingly like he was coming out of a trance. The Alpha took a step back, giving the Omega a little bit of breathing room, even despite his disappointment at his moving back.

"Sorry, I uh...sorry, I didn't mean to get so close," Jason apologized.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not upset," Y/N told him, gently placing his hand on the Alpha's wrist, jerking at the heat he felt underneath the ivory skin, "Jason, you're really hot."

"Well, thank you, sweetheart. Glad you noticed," Jason winked, trying to deflect the comment.

"No, no, I mean, you're burning up. Are you okay?" Y/N asked, removing his hand and using it to press the back of his palm against the Alpha's forehead, a worried look crossing his face. He didn't even realize it was him now closing the distance between them, stepping into the Alpha's space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm just running a bit of a fever, it's no big deal," Jason answered.

"You're literally sweating buckets, and your skin is red. This is more than just a 'bit of a fever'. Have you taken your temperature? How about a shower and some cold water? I'm sure I have some ice packs-"

"I'm fine, Y/N. Just drop it," Jason snapped, a little too harshly as the Omega immediately flinched and stepped back, looking away from the Alpha.

"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to bother," Y/N mumbled.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, "No, don't apologize. I didn't mean to snap. Look, it's late, and I'm exhausted. I'll head home and sleep it off, alright?"

"You're welcome to stay the night if you want. It's no trouble. I'll even let you use my various lotions," Y/N joked, though his tone and face were still showing his worry for his friend.

"Thanks, but I'm not gonna intrude. I'll see you later, Y/N," Jason said, walking past the Omega.

Before he could say anything else, Jason grabbed the rest of his things and was out of the bathroom and his apartment within a couple of minutes. The sudden tense and awkward silence was a little unsettling for the Omega, especially after how close he and the Alpha had become in the past couple of years.

"Well, fuck," Y/N breathed, running a hand through his hair.

A couple of days had gone by and Y/N hadn't heard anything from Jason. It wasn't unusual for him to go radio silent for a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks if he was working on an important case.

But, this was different. After seeing how Jason left his apartment the other night, the Omega had been nothing other than an anxious and worried mess.

What was wrong with him? Why was he acting so weirdly the other night? Was he okay? Did Y/N accidentally make him mad about the Sun joke?

That wouldn't make sense though since Jason had the raunchiest sense of humor he'd ever known. The jokes Y/N made could be considered playground stuff compared to some of the stuff that came out of that man's mouth.

All these questions and more had been running through the Omega's mind for the past couple of days. He wanted to check on the Alpha but was afraid of what his reaction would be if he did.

He'd thought about asking reaching out to Dick or Bruce or someone from Jason's family to see if they'd heard from him, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to come off as a clingy or annoying Omega.

Jason would talk to him when he was ready, and he had no choice but to respect that.

Even though it didn't make the wait any less painful or worrying.

"Fuck it," Y/N cursed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Scrolling through his contacts, he found the name he was looking for and pressed the call button, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Alfred. It's Y/N."

"Master Y/N. What a surprise. How are you, my dear boy?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," A smile spread across his face at the polished voice on the other end. The butler was always so nice and respectful to speak to. Jason always said it was impossible to talk to Alfred and not feel good or better about yourself.

"Wonderful to hear. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually, yes. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me where Jason is. I haven't heard from him in a couple of days, and I was just wondering if you knew where he was."

"Unfortunately, I am not aware of Master Jason's whereabouts, nor is anyone else in the manor. He has not contacted anyone within the family for some time, and we are all rather concerned."

That had Y/N even more worried.

He knew Jason didn't have the best relationship with Bruce, his adoptive father, but from what the Omega understood, that disdain didn't extend to his other family members. At least not completely.

Especially Alfred of all people. Jason always said how Alfred was his favorite out of everyone in that entire family, so the fact that the butler didn't know what was going on had him even more on edge.

"Is everything alright, Master Y/N?" Alfred asked, noticing the Omega's long silence.

"Oh, yes, sorry. Everything's fine. Just a bit distracted," Y/N lied.

"Of course, my dear boy. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Y/N replied, hearing the butler hang up the phone a second later.

"Fuck," the Omega cursed.

After putting his phone down, the Omega ran a hand down his face while doing a nervous scratch on his durag-covered head. It didn't make sense, and the Omega was beginning to worry something terrible had happened to the vigilante, knowing the life he led.

"Dammit Jay, where the hell are you?"

"Fucking shit," Jason groaned, sweat dripping down his body as his hands gripped the sheets.

His teeth were clenched tightly together, and his body was trembling slightly from the intense pain his lower region was feeling as he furiously moved the pocket sex toy furiously up and down his raging and hard dick, damn near close to breaking it which wouldn't be good considering it was his last one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck," Jason growled, his hips arching off the bed.

This was the fourth night in a row that the Alpha had been suffering through the intense pain that was his rut. The pain was only getting worse the longer he ignored and attempted to suppress his instincts, which he wasn't doing a good job of doing if the state of his apartment was anything to go by.

His bedroom, living room, kitchen, and every other room in the apartment was in complete disarray. Broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the floor, his walls had multiple holes in them, and a few stains of his blood could be found in various spots around the place.

It was a good thing he paid rent up front and the building manager was never around, or they would've kicked him out and called the police.

"Ugh, aah," the Alpha grunted, his hips arching off the bed as the vibrations coursed through his dick, sending shivers throughout his body.

His knot was already swollen and pulsating, but it wasn't enough. He needed an actual hole to insert his knot into. A nice wet, tight, and pulsing hot hole that he could fuck and breed, pumping his cum and his seed inside.

He needed an Omega.

"Goddammit," Jason panted, tossing the small toy to the side and laying his head back on the pillow, a sheen layer of sweat covering his entire body.

The pain had gone away temporarily, but now the urge to fuck and knot an Omega was growing stronger, and it was making him lose his mind. If he could just find an Omega and breed them, the pain would go away. But, he couldn't just go and pick up a random Omega off the street and force them to spread their legs so the Alpha fuck their brains out even if that's what his body was calling him to do.

At least, not without being arrested and charged with rape.

It took everything in him to leave Y/N's apartment that night after he realized he was entering the early stages of his rut, hence his somewhat weird behavior towards the Omega. Knowing how intense and strong his ruts had gotten since he came back after being dipped in the Lazarus pits, Jason didn't want to take the chance of hurting anyone, especially the Omega he'd come to care for deeply.

Not that Y/N knew this.

And now, it was getting harder and harder to fight against the urge to do just that. To ignore his basic and natural instincts.

He figured it to be a side effect of the Lazarus pits, seeing as how other parts of his body and mind had become more enhanced after this little swim. It'd make sense that it would also affect his mating cycle, he just didn't think it would make them this intense and impossible to deal with.

As time passed and he went through his rut cycles, they slowly got more intense. He was way more aggressive than he was normally, he'd start to experience pain and literal freaking blue balls if he didn't get his knot out in enough time, and worst of all, his ruts were lasting longer and starting to occur more frequently. They used to come every 2 months, maybe one and a half if he was just unlucky. Now, they were damn near coming every month or few weeks.

And the last time he actually had someone with him through his rut, because of increased aggressiveness which made him much more brutal and rough than normal (and that was saying something), he nearly put that Omega in the hospital. Of course, they were understanding and didn't hold it against him, but he didn't want to risk hurting anyone else.

He started ignoring his ruts and locking himself away in his apartment. He'd buy a bunch of sex toys and other stuff that would help ease the pain and tension and would just tough it out until his rut was over, not caring that the pain would only get worse the longer he ignored his instincts.

"Augh," Jason moaned, the pain starting to come back and his arousal rising again.

He reached his hand down, his fingers wrapping around his large, throbbing, and rock-hard cock, his thumb rubbing the tip and smearing the precum leaking out of the slit. The Alpha groaned, his hips thrusting up into his hand, the movements rough and uncoordinated.

This is what it had been for the past almost week. Him alone in his apartment with nothing but his hand, rut-specific fleshlights that ended up torn apart after only a couple of uses because of his ridiculously enlarged knot, and an ever-consistent raging hard-on.

And the pain. Don't forget the pain.

The pain was the worst part. The need and desire to mate and breed an Omega was strong, but the physical and mental pain his body would be in due to not giving into those desires was the absolute fucking worst.

"Fuck, ugh," Jason groaned, his fist picking up speed.

His eyes closed the image of a beautiful and naked Omega underneath him, moaning his name and begging him to fuck him or her. The smell of their scent was the sweetest aroma he'd ever experienced, and their body was the softest and smoothest thing he'd ever touched.

While his hand furiously stroked up and down, so close to the edge but just not able to reach it, he could feel his anger growing more the longer it took for him to reach his release. Then, as he was imagining the body of some random Omega that was on top of him, that blurred image where their face should be suddenly had a face.

Y/N's face.

"Oh fuck Jason!"  Y/N screamed in his head, his hands pressing against the vigilante's hard chest while he bit his lips in painful pleasure as he bounced up and down on his dick.

A guttural sound left his throat, his hips thrusting up into his hand faster and harder as he imagined the smaller male on top of him, moaning and begging the Alpha to knot him, his body writhing in pleasure. His sweaty brown skin glistened in the light from the moon outside as his body moved up and down with the rattling bed from the force of Jason's thrusts inside him.

"Y/N, fu-fuck, baby, yes," Jason groaned, his body moving up and down as the imaginary Y/N bounced his body up and down the Alpha's massive cock, taking his knot so beautifully.

"Shit," the Alpha cursed, his hand gripping his cock tighter, his palm rubbing the head, a growl leaving his mouth.

He thrust into his hand even harder, his sore and throbbing cock leaking more and more pre-cum as he imagined Y/N screaming out on top of him, begging for his knot.

"Fuck, Jason, knot me! Please, I need it. Give me your knot!"

"I'm gonna, baby. Gonna knot you, give you my knot," Jason answered, his mind still deep in his fantasy.

Before he knew it, Jason had blown one of the biggest and most satisfying loads he's had this entire rut, possibly his entire life. His hips arched off the bed with his hand milking his dick for every drop of cum his balls could produce.

"Shit," Jason groaned, his hips falling back to the bed and his chest heaving up and down.

His heart was pounding, and his body was still covered in a thick layer of sweat, but the pain was subsiding. Not completely, but enough for the Alpha to at least catch his breath. His head was fuzzy, and his vision was blurry, but he was slowly coming back to reality.

"Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess."

Truthfully, this wasn't the first time this had happened. The Alpha had known for a long time that his feelings towards the Omega weren't strictly platonic. Hell, he'd immediately found the guy attractive since the first time he met him, but he had no idea when his feelings began developing into something deeper and more serious.

Even then, it wasn't like Jason was the best person to have a healthy relationship with. He wasn't exactly a people person, and he wasn't the best when it came to expressing his emotions. Plus, the fact that he had a very dangerous career choice didn't help.

But, despite all of that, Y/N was the first person he'd truly felt comfortable with in a very long time outside of Roy, and not just because he was a new Omega in the city who would always patch him up. Don't ask him why, but sometimes it was easy to talk to a complete stranger.

Plus, after getting to know him, Jason became protective of the Omega, wanting to keep him safe.

When they met, Y/N was a clueless and innocent little Omega who had no business being out at such a late hour, especially in Gotham. Jason couldn't have that. So, he made sure to check in on him regularly to make sure no harm had come to him, which didn't help with the growing attraction he was feeling towards him.

It also didn't help that Y/N and he seemed to banter back and forth and act like a couple, flirty undertones and all. Whenever they'd hang out outside of the Omega's apartment, people always assumed they were together. And it wasn't like Jason would mind that. Not at all. He just didn't know if Y/N would mind it.

He'd admit, there was a time when he thought about pursuing a romantic relationship with the Omega, but ultimately decided against it. Jason didn't think he deserved the happiness and warmth the smaller male brought him.

So, he chose to content himself with the friendship he had with him, not wanting to ruin one of the only good things he had in his life.

Now, however, the Alpha was beginning to reconsider.

Not even a few minutes went by before Jason felt his dick rising to attention again, his rut coming back with an even more demanding vengeance.

"Dammit, not again," Jason cursed, sitting up.

The pain was starting to come back, and his dick was already hardening again, the head a deep red and aching with need. His suppressants virtually did nothing for him anymore aside from giving him close to an hour of relief.

And he could feel that if he didn't knot someone soon and properly let his rut play out, he was going to kill someone. He'd already destroyed most of his apartment.

"I'm so fucked."

"Hey, Dick. Any word on Jason?" Y/N asked, leaning his elbows on the counter as he tried to resist biting his nails while holding the phone to his ear.

He'd become more of a nervous wreck the longer he didn't hear from Jason. He figured everything would be fine, thinking that Jason was just on a mission and couldn't respond, but when Bruce reached out to him to see if he knew where his adoptive son had been, the Omega's anxiety skyrocketed.

"No, sorry. We haven't heard anything from him. We checked his safehouse and his apartment and didn't find anything but we haven't stopped looking. How are you doing?"

Y/N ignored the feeling that Dick was holding back something, not telling him the entire truth. But, he was too worried to care.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay. Just a little stressed," the Omega replied.

"You're not the only one. We're all worried about him. This isn't the first time he's gone missing, and the fact that no one has seen him or heard anything from him is making us all anxious," Dick explained.

"I understand. If you guys need any help, just let me know," Y/N told him.

"Thanks, Y/N. We'll call if we need you. Just stay safe and relax, alright? Don't worry, I'm sure he'll turn up. He always does."

"Okay. Bye, Dick."

Y/N hung up the phone after hearing Dick say his goodbyes as well before starting to pace back and forth in his apartment. It'd been a week since the Omega last saw Jason.

Normally, he'd be completely fine, knowing Jason was probably doing some vigilante business and didn't want him getting involved. But, this was different.

The way Jason left his apartment, looking like he was sick or coming down with something, the fact that he hadn't heard from him, or anyone in his family for that matter, and the fact that Dick didn't seem like he was telling him the entire truth had the Omega in a near panic.

"Jason, I swear the next time I fucking see you," the Omega cursed.

"You'll do what, sweetheart?"

"Augh!"

Y/N screamed, jumping back and tripping over the corner of the couch, falling onto his back with his feet landing on the cushions in a very sitcom-like manner. The sudden voice nearly gave him a heart attack, and his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think straight.

When he looked up, he saw Jason standing in his balcony doorway, his frame taking up the entire space, and a smirk on his face. A smirk that he had very much missed seeing, but for right now, the mushy feeling stuff was going to have to wait as he had about a week's worth of anxiety, worries, and fury to unleash on him.

"Miss me?"

"You asshole! What the hell?!" Y/N yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him, a pillow, and throwing it at him before grabbing his shoe and running over to beat him with it, "Where the hell have you been?! I haven't heard from you in a week and no one in your family has either, and you show up here asking if I miss you?! You fucking wish!"

"Whoa, okay. Calm down," Jason chuckled, stepping forward and grabbing the Omega's wrist.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you idiot," Y/N hissed, trying and failing to remove his arm from the Alpha's grasp, his grip like iron. He forgot how much he missed Jason's strong grip.

Get those dirty thoughts out of your head.

Y/N continued to beat him with his sandal until he heard a faint growl and felt himself being tackled roughly back onto the couch, the air leaving his lungs.

"Ahh," Y/N breathed, his eyes squeezing shut from the impact.

"Enough, Y/N," Jason growled, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver through the Omega's body. His larger body and hands effectively had him pinned down, the smell of his pheromones and his natural scent filling his nose.

"Uh, uh, mister! You don't get to be bossy Alpha after you've had me and everyone else worried sick for almost a week, you hear me? I oughta-"

Y/N was cut off as the Alpha leaned forward, his nose nuzzling against the skin of his neck and breathing deeply, inhaling his scent. The sudden closeness had the Omega's mind reeling, his hands instinctively gripping the Alpha's muscular arms.

"Uh- I... I oughta– Whoa, um...what are you doing?" Y/N stuttered, his heart pounding in his chest.

"God, you smell amazing," Jason purred, his voice a low rumble.

"Excuse me?"

"Your scent, it's amazing," Jason said, his teeth grazing the skin of the Omega's throat, his tongue licking a stripe across the pulse point.

Y/N let out a surprise gasp, his hands gripping the vigilante's biceps as the Alpha licked and kissed at his neck, breathing his scent in. While he was very shocked by this behavior and was still worried about him, he couldn't deny the extreme arousal he was feeling.

Jason was a big guy, not just height-wise but in terms of muscle mass and body size. So, the fact that he had him pressed underneath him on his couch, his large hands roaming his body, his mouth and nose kissing and sniffing at his neck was causing him a little issue with his underwear and the slick slowly starting to coat it.

"J-Jason, what are you doing?" Y/N breathed.

"I wanna fuck you," Jason said bluntly, pulling his head away from the Omega's neck and looking down at him, a feral look in his eyes.

"What?"

"I wanna fuck you, breed you. Need you," Jason growled, his hips grinding down onto the smaller males, the friction and the pressure of the Alpha's cock rubbing against his own Omega genitals pulling another gasp from him.

Then, a scent caught his nose. Jason's scent...

Y/N could smell the pheromones radiating off the Alpha, the scent of wood burning in a fire, leather, and hints of cinnamon filling his nose. He didn't even realize his hands were now pressed against the broad chest of the Alpha until he felt the toned muscles underneath his shirt.

"You're in your rut, aren't you?" Y/N realized.

Jason didn't make a sound, but if the way his head moved up and down as he ground himself into the Omega while still attacking his neck and scent glands, that was confirmation enough. He ran down Y/N's body, moving to grip his waist so he could force him to move back against him.

"Fuck, why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't wanna hurt you," Jason grunted, his nose pressing into the crook of the Omega's neck and breathing deeply, his hands moving lower and gripping his thighs.

"Oh, Jason," Y/N gasped, the name slipping out as he felt the Alpha's large, rough hands move underneath his shirt, caressing his stomach and sides, "Come on, we gotta get you something to help you calm down."

"Can't wait. Need you now," Jason groaned, his hips thrusting faster.

"Jason, you can't. Not down here. Someone could see through the balcony door," Y/N argued, though the protest was weak as the Omega was losing the fight against his own arousal.

That was apparently enough to get the Alpha to see reason as he paused his movements over the Omega, but only for a moment.

"Fine, have it your way," Jason grumbled, standing up from the couch, grabbing the Omega, lifting him into his arms, and throwing him over his shoulder, his hand slapping his ass, the sting shooting straight to his core, "Let's go."

"H-Hey! Jason! Would you hold on for a second, you damn brute," Y/N cried, his arms and legs flailing.

Jason didn't listen, walking towards Y/N's bedroom instead of the bathroom where Y/N intended for them to go, not paying attention to the Omega's squirming and his hand slapping his ass again, pulling a yelp from the Omega.

It wasn't a long walk until Jason reached the Omega's bedroom and threw him on the bed, the smaller male bouncing as he landed, almost untying itself from the force.

"Shit, Jay," Y/N huffed, the air getting knocked out of him.

"Take your clothes off," Jason ordered, his voice deep and gruff.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N asked, not expecting that order.

"Take. Your. Clothes. Off," Jason repeated, his hands working on removing his jacket and his shirt.

Y/N could feel the small gush of slickness that came out of him as the Alpha removed his clothes, revealing his incredibly toned and muscular body, his abs rippling as his arms lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room. Y/N could see the sizable print of the Alpha's dick bulging in his pants, making him gulp.

"Jason, can we pause for like two seconds and talk about this," Y/N started, his eyes wide and staring at the man's naked torso, "We can't just-"

"Y/N, take your clothes off, or I'll do it myself," Jason growled, his eyes staring intensely at the Omega, the feral look and the slight glow of his green irises made the Omega shudder.

"You wouldn't dare," Y/N challenged.

"Try me."

Before Y/N could argue or say anything, the Alpha was on top of him, his fingers gripping his shirt and tearing the fabric, a rip echoing through the room. While Y/N was still shocked by the surprise move, he grabbed the ripped shirt and used it to tie the Omega's hands together, keeping him from pushing him away.

"Jason, what the absolute fuck?" Y/N asked, trying and failing to break free of the Alpha's restraints, his wrists and forearms tied tightly together, the shirt acting as a makeshift rope.

Any other person and Y/N would've been able to break out of that makeshift bondage before they could even blink. Jason on the other hand was trained by Batman. He'd doubt if he could get out of this shit by the time the sun came up.

"What? It's not like you're not gonna throw it out anyway," Jason answered, not stopping his movement as he removed the rest of the Omega's clothes, ripping his pants off and leaving him in just his underwear.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, you bastard?" Y/N spat, not liking the feeling of him not being in control in this situation.

"So I've been told. Now, are you gonna be good and do what I tell you, or are you gonna fight me the whole time?" Jason asked, leaning over the Omega.

"You've got a lotta nerve coming in here and bossing me around, you little shit, especially after you ghosted and ignored me all this week," Y/N spat, glaring up at the Alpha.

"Yeah, I'll apologize for that later," Jason said, leaning his face down and burying his nose into the crook of the Omega's neck.

"You bet your ass you will. And, stop smelling me," Y/N protested, trying to pull his neck away.

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus," Jason grunted, his teeth biting the skin of the Omega's throat.

"Not until you explain what the hell is going on with you," Y/N responded his neck closing, preventing the Alpha from more access to his skin.

Jason's lips curled up into a snarl, the green in his eyes flashing before his tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the Omega's closed neck, the action pulling a gasp from him.

"Dammit, Y/N, just shut the fuck up and let me think," Jason growled, his hand running along the side of the Omega's body, his nails grazing the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Think?! Think about what, you big oaf? How you came in here after disappearing on me for a week and expecting me to just let you fuck me because you're in your rut? Or, how you're gonna get yourself arrested when someone hears the neighbors getting dicked down?" Y/N replied, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that were going down his spine.

"Would you stop worrying about stupid shit and focus on me," Jason demanded, his hand gripping the Omega's jaw, turning his head and forcing him to look at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the room, "I've gone through a week of pure fucking hell, and I'm not about to have you ruin the one relief I have right now."

"Relief?! You're lucky you were smart enough to restrain me because if you didn't, I'd be tearing your ass a new one right now," Y/N sneered, his anger rising.

"Good luck with that," Jason chuckled, his knee rubbing the inside of the Omega's thigh.

"Don't touch me, you jerk," Y/N said, trying to close his legs.

"Don't fight me, Y/N," Jason growled, his nails digging into the skin of the smaller male's jaw, his teeth clenching, "I've been locked in my apartment for almost a week, jerking my dick and using a pocket pussy, and none of it's been satisfying. If you keep fighting me, I'm not gonna be so nice."

"You've been masturbating for a week and nothing is helping?" Y/N questioned, his eyes wide.

"It's not enough," Jason answered, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck, his teeth grazing the skin, his hot breath hitting his pulse point, "Nothing is enough."

Y/N took a moment to pause, assessing everything around him and giving his anger and attitude a few seconds to simmer down before this got more out of control than it needed to. Jason never acted this aggressively towards him, and at first, he thought it was because he was rutting. But, thinking of some of his other friends who were Alphas, he never remembered them going this far, acting like a completely different person who didn't care about the other person's wishes. And he knew that was far from the Alpha in front of him and his regular behavior.

As far as he could ever think, Jason would never do anything to hurt Y/N or push him into something he didn't want to do. He could be a bit protective at times, not wanting the Omega to get hurt or come into contact with any danger. And, he could also be a bit of a flirt when he was comfortable, constantly teasing him and saying suggestive comments. But, the fact that he was currently holding him down and threatening him, even being in his rut was concerning.

"Jason, when was the last time you had a rut?"

"Almost a month ago," Jason murmured, nuzzling his face against the jaw and neck, making his way down to his chest while his hand softly caressed his body.

"And did you have someone to help you through it?" Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"No," Jason replied.

"Why not? Didn't you have anyone else who could help you through it?" Y/N probed further.

"Didn't want to risk it with anyone. So, I dealt with it on my own," Jason explained, his teeth biting and sucking the skin of the Omega's collarbone, leaving small hickeys.

"And how long have you been dealing with it on your own?"

There was a moment of silence as Y/N felt the kisses and bites to his skin pause for a second. Then, he heard a soft grunt, and the kisses and bites continued.

"How long, Jason?" Y/N pressed.

"A while."

"Be more specific."

"I don't fucking know, alright? Almost 3 years, maybe more," Jason snapped, his nails suddenly digging into the flesh of the Omega's sides, pulling him against the Alpha.

"Jason! Three years?! Do you know how dangerous that is?" Y/N cried, looking at the Alpha with wide eyes.

"Of course I do, idiot. But, it's not like there are many options for an Alpha vigilante who's supposed to be dead," Jason grumbled, his tone laced with a hint of sadness.

"Then, why didn't you ask Bruce for help? Couldn't he have gotten one of his doctor friends to prescribe you some Feromexin or Feromine-X to help with the ruts?" Y/N argued, not understanding the Alpha's decision.

Jason raised an eyebrow at the Omega's question, feeling a spike of anger at the implication of his words.

"How do you know about the suppressants for Alphas? You been fucking another Alpha or something, sweetheart?" Jason growled, the slight tint of green in his eyes seemingly flaring up.

"No, dumbass. I have friends and family who are Alphas, and I did some research on the internet," Y/N answered, not liking the tone the Alpha was using.

"Why were you doing research, huh?" Jason hummed, his grip on the Omega's waist loosening, his hands moving to grab the Omega's ass, his fingers kneading the cheeks, a moan escaping the Omega's mouth, "Did you find something you liked, baby?"

"Jason, for the love of God, focus damnit! Answer my question," Y/N almost snapped, which was very unlike him.

"Oh, my fucking god. I don't know, okay! They don't work for me anymore," Jason yelled, his voice rising.

"What do you mean they don't work for you anymore? What did you take?"

"Feromine-X. And, I mean, they've just stopped working. After I was resurrected, I guess, my ruts have just gotten stronger, and the suppressants don't do shit for me," Jason explained, his voice becoming more agitated.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you go to Bruce for help? Or Dick, or Alfred, or anyone?"

"Because I don't want their damn pity, okay. It's bad enough I'm the 'dead Robin', but now I can't even handle my ruts like a normal Alpha and have to depend on everyone else for help. I don't want others having to take care of me, and I especially don't need it," Jason growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his nails digging into the skin, his teeth clenching as his anger rose.

"But, I like taking care of you," Y/N murmured.

Jason's gaze immediately softened, his eyes staring at the Omega's, his lips falling open.

"What?"

"I like taking care of you. Whenever you'd come to me, needing stitches or painkillers, or when you'd just show up and we'd hang out, I didn't mind. I always wanted to help. I like spending time with you, and I wanted to make sure you're okay and safe. You could've come to me for help if this was really affecting you so badly," Y/N answered.

"Y/N, I can't ask you to do that. This isn't your responsibility," Jason said, his grip on the Omega's wrists and his thighs loosening.

"Um, considering the way you kind of barged in here, basically abducted me to my room and how I'm sitting here tied up by the tattered remains of my own shirt, I'd kinda say you basically almost made it my responsibility so...I mean, I'm just saying," Y/N said.

Jason stared at him for a moment before chuckling, his shoulders shaking.

"Why do you always have to go and make me feel like an idiot?" Jason laughed, his hands gently rubbing the Omega's thighs.

"Because it's what I do best," Y/N teased, a small smile coming to his lips.

"God, I missed you," Jason said, his arms wrapping around the Omega and his face burying itself in the crook of his neck.

"Missed you too, pasty," Y/N cooed, his hands rubbing the Alpha's back.

"Why you gotta bring my skin color into this again," Jason grumbled, his fingers pinching at the Omega's side in retaliation.

"Hey, don't take it out on my melanin, white boy," Y/N giggled, squirming underneath him.

"You're such a brat," Jason growled, his teeth nipping at the Omega's throat.

"And you're a big jerk."

"I'll give you a big jerk," Jason muttered, his hips grinding against the Omega's, his cock pressing against the Omega's clothed and wet privates, "So, you still willing to help me through my rut?"

"Hmm, well, you're not exactly my type of white boy," Y/N joked, pretending to scan the Alpha up and down.

Jason gave him a warning growl, his teeth giving a harsh bite to the Omega's shoulder.

"Fuck, okay, yes, I'll help," Y/N whimpered, feeling his slick still wetting his underwear and now his sheets under him.

"That's what I thought," Jason smirked, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and bringing him into his grasp, his face diving back into the crook of his neck.

"Ah! On one condition, though," Y/N conceded.

Jason paused with an agitated huff, his aggressiveness returning slowly as he felt himself finally getting closer to getting what his body was craving, "Name it."

"You tell me when you're in trouble, and you don't keep things from me. You keep me in the loop and let me take care of you when needed," Y/N told him, his eyes serious.

"Fine. But, that goes both ways. You're not allowed to hide things from me, and you can't keep shit from me. Understand, brat?" Jason negotiated.

"Yes, massa," Y/N teased, leaning up and nuzzling the Alpha's cheek, a purr rumbling in his throat.

"Smartass. Now, can we please fuck?" Jason asked, his patience growing thin.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Just remember, be gentle, okay," Y/N chuckled.

"Hah, after calling me white boy and massa? No, no. You deserve whatever you're gonna get," Jason grinned, his hands slipping between the Omega's thighs, spreading them, and rubbing the soaked spot of his underwear.

"Ah fuck. Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N moaned, his head falling back onto the bed, his legs twitching.

"Nah, I kind of like having you helpless and unable to fight back," Jason smirked, his teeth biting the hem of the Omega's underwear and ripping it off him, leaving him bare.

"Asshole."

"But, you still love me," Jason cooed, his hand caressing the Omega's body.

"Maybe a little," Y/N admitted, his heart rate speeding up.

"Good. Now, shut up and don't move," Jason ordered.

Jason pressed his face between the Omega's legs, getting a full whiff of the natural scent that came off him, a deep, sweet but light musky scent. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe along the folds of the Omega's opening, the taste of his slick on his tongue making him groan.

Y/N moaned and tensed up, his hands moving up to grip the pillow behind him. He'd had sex plenty of times, but this was different. The number of times Y/N had woken up from a wet dream that detailed this kind of moment between him and the vigilante was countless, and the fact that it was now becoming a reality was adding to the euphoric feelings starting to overwhelm his mind and body

Jason's tongue circled around the Omega's entrance, teasing him. He felt a wave of possessiveness come over him as his hands grabbed beneath the bend of the smaller man's knees to push his legs up, further exposing his shiny. slick-covered hole to him.

Pressing his nose against the entrance again, he took a small whiff before attaching his lips to the wet organ and pushing his tongue inside. Both men released filthy noises as Jason all but devoured the smaller man in front of him, inside and out.

"Jason, fuck!" Y/N cursed, his hands flying down and his fingers tangling in the Alpha's hair.

Jason growled, his hand reaching up and grabbing the smaller man's wrists from his hair, pinning them down against his stomach. He pulled away to look at the Omega through the gap between his spread thighs.

"I told you to stay still," Jason growled.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be good, promise," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving.

"You better," Jason warned, his grip tightening around the Omega's wrist before releasing and returning to his task, "Keep these here."

Jason's tongue plunged back into the Omega's core, his mouth sucking and slurping at the slick and its addictive taste. He continued eating out the sensitive and twitching hole, his tongue grazing across the hot walls and his pleasure crux.

He moved his hand up to where he was lapping at the hole, slick dripping from his chin as he prodded a finger around the entrance before slowly pushing the digit inside. Y/N squirmed at the tickling sensation while doing his best to remain still, even though another side of him desperately wanted to misbehave and poke at the Alpha's patience.

Jason pushed his finger inside, the wet muscle coating his finger and making it easy for him to press his middle finger inside. His tongue licked around his finger as he roughly pumped it in and out, barely giving any time for him to adjust before adding a second finger.

"Jason, oh, shit. Wait, wait, slow down," Y/N panted, his head tossing and turning, his fingers pulling at his own hair.

Jason ignored his pleas, his fingers stretching and curling inside the Omega, scissoring and opening him up. Y/N's whimpers and cries were going straight to his dick, the sound music to his ears.

"Shit, ah fuck! Jason, you're going too fast."

Y/N cried out as he felt a third finger enter him, the stretch burning slightly. Jason continued his movements, moving his mouth away completely as he opted to watch the Omega squirm on his fingers with a prideful look.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N whined, his face blushing red as he unconsciously tried to close his legs which did not go unnoticed by the vigilante. He didn't take kindly to the Omega giving him orders, curling his fingers inside and delivering some harsh movements that managed to hit his pleasure spot, causing him to cry out.

"I'll look at you any way I want to," Jason said, his eyes roaming the Omega's body before he suddenly paused his movements.

Y/N looked up in confusion before gasping at the suddenly empty feeling, Jason removing his fingers before grabbing at his still-tied wrists. He looked up to the Alpha who was staring down at him with an intense look that had him nervously fidgeting on the bed.

"Wanna keep acting like a brat, fine. I'll treat you like one then," Jason declared.

The vigilante untied the tattered shirts from around Y/N's arms, giving him only a split second of freedom before he flipped him over roughly, placing a harsh slap on his bottom that had him crying out. He grabbed the smaller male's arms again, this time folding them behind his back and tying the shirt around them in a tight hold while the Omega softly whimpered against the sheets from the rough manhandling.

He could feel his hole still dripping as he listened to the sounds of zippers and clothes rustling, his anticipation and anxiety rising.

"Jason, what are you–"

"Quiet," Jason ordered, his voice low.

"But-"

"I said, quiet dammit," Jason repeated, his hand landing another slap on his ass, the sting shooting straight through his spine.

Y/N gasped at the sting, doing his best to hold back the tears starting to pool in his eyes before he felt the Alpha grabbing him and pulling him off the bed, placing him on his knees on the floor in front of him.

Jason stood before him in his full naked glory, the sight causing his mouth to water. He wasn't a stranger to seeing the Alpha's body, considering he'd spent a considerable amount of time patching up his various wounds multiple nights in a row. But, this was the first time he'd been able to see his whole body. And, was it a sight to behold.

Jason was a big man, and his dick was no exception.

The enlarged organ definitely looked like it could do some damage, with a considerable length and a girth that had his insides fluttering in anticipation or fear. Possibly both. Actually, very likely it was both.

It was a wonder how the Alpha was able to hide that thing, especially underneath his skin-tight vigilante suit, or how anyone could handle having him inside. He knew Alphas' cocks tended to grow in size during ruts, but this was something else.

"Oh fuck–" Y/N muttered, his arousal spiking which the rutting Alpha picked up on if the jump in his throbbing dick was any indication.

"Open your mouth," Jason ordered, his hands running through the Omega's hair.

"Fuck, Jason. I don't think–"

"Did I ask what you think or did I tell you to open your mouth?" Jason gripped the Omega's hair that was now uncovered from the durag slipping off while Jason fingered him.

He pulled the Omega's head back, before grabbing his penis with his other hand, tapping it against the Omega's mouth, smearing the leaking pre-cum over his lips.

"I said, open up," Jason said, the tone in his voice signaling this was the Omega's last chance before the Alpha did it for him.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, looking up at the Alpha. He prayed that his past few experiences would be able to match up to this, but he didn't have much time to prepare himself before Jason took it upon himself to force the Omega's mouth open, giving the cockhead the opening it needed to enter the wet cavern.

"Fucking little brat, clearly we need to work on your ability to listen to orders," Jason grunted, his hips jerking forward and his dick pushing deeper into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N let out a muffled cry, his hands twitching and his fingers gripping his forearm, trying his hardest to ignore the tears that were now freely streaming down his face. Jason gave a few experimental thrusts while his hands held the Omega's head still, the tip of his penis already pressing against the back of his throat.

The Omega could feel how much his lips were stretched from just the little few inches he had inside. It was almost a wonder how his jaw wasn't aching. But, that wasn't a luxury he had as the Alpha started to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts pushing more of his cock down the Omega's throat.

Y/N's eyes widened, his vision blurring from the tears, and his eyes rolling back into his skull, his mind focusing only on the thick cock currently fucking his throat and the lack of air entering his lungs. He could feel the pressure and pain in his jaw increasing, his mouth being used like a fleshlight for the Alpha's pleasure.

Jason's animalistic grunts along with Y/N's choking and gagging noise filled up the room as the vigilante had his way with the smaller man. Y/N's instincts were to try and push back against the muscular hips thrusting into his mouth, but, once again the Alpha was a few steps ahead of him as his arms struggled in their binds behind his back, leaving him no other choice but to sit there and receive the aggressive and brutal treatment.

Jason was losing himself in the pleasure, the Omega's tight and wet mouth and throat feeling heavenly around his cock. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, and he wasn't going to hold back.

After a week of hell alone in his room with his hand and cheap fleshlights, he was finally getting the relief he needed. Now, all that was left was for him to get his knot inside the Omega and truly relieve his pain.

The Alpha looked over into the large mirror the Omega kept in his room, watching the bound smaller man sitting on his knees for his body, helpless against the Alpha's stronghold and cock. His Alpha pride was skyrocketing through the roof.

After just a few more minutes, he removed his dick from the Omega's mouth, the puffy, swollen red state of his lips leaving a satisfied and smug smirk on the Alpha. He leaned down and grabbed the Omega under his shoulder before throwing and slamming him down on the bed, forcing his legs apart again.

Y/N let out a choked gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. His face was a mess, with tear tracks running down his face, his jaw aching from the rough mouth-fucking he just received.

He heard the Alpha rummaging through the bedside table, his hands blindly searching the contents before finding the packet he was looking for, before suddenly giving an accusing look.

"Why do you have a knot condom?" Jason asked, his voice gruff.

Y/N recognized the possessive and slightly angry look that was common in all Alphas, cursing on the inside of his head. He'd forgotten that was in his nightstand.

"Um...that's, uh, a funny story," Y/N chuckled nervously, his heart rate speeding up.

"You fucked another Alpha during his rut?" Jason growled.

"Yes, but it was with one of my past flings," Y/N admitted with a nervous tone, "We were never serious, but he asked me to help and I agreed."

It was silent for a moment as the vigilante stared him down, his gaze dark and dangerous, his eyes narrowed on the Omega. Y/N's mind raced, hoping the Alpha wouldn't get too angry, knowing how much their ruts could drive up their territorial attitudes.

"How many times?"

"Huh?" Y/N replied, confused.

"How many times did you let him knot you," Jason repeated his grip on the condom's package tightening.

"I don't know. It was a rut! How am I supposed to remember how many times we did it," Y/N responded, his own irritation starting to grow.

"Were they his condoms or did you buy them?" Jason questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"His. I made him buy extra in case we ran out."

Jason was silent for another moment, taking another look at the open drawer before turning back to Y/N with a daunting expression.

"This is the only one left, so it looks like you went at it a few times. Guess that means I've got a lot of work cut out for me," Jason tore the package open and slipped the latex rubber over his penis, "And since it's the last one and only one you have, well, I hope you're suppressants have the added birth control," He said before getting on the bed and pulling the Omega towards him by his legs.

"Jason, you better be fucking joking. You didn't bring any extra condoms?" Y/N demanded, his eyes widening.

"Most don't fit me anymore since my dick grew a little more, let's hope this one is up for the job," Jason smirked while positioning himself at the Omega's entrance.

"Jason Peter Todd, I fucking swear if you knock me up–"

"Ah, quit your whining," Jason interrupted, pushing the head of his dick against the Omega's fluttering hole, the slick already coating the covered organ, "It's not like we don't have other options. Accidents happen all the time."

"Screw you, asshole," Y/N groaned, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm gonna do so much more than that," Jason grinned, his hands gripping the Omega's waist and his hips shoving forward.

Y/N cried out, his arms straining and his legs tensing as his body flailed underneath the Alpha's massive frame from the intense stretching he felt as his hole and walls tried to adjust and push out the intruding cock. His body arched into Jason's chest as the Alpha's dark head of hair nudged its way into the Omega's neck, his lips kissing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Jason wasn't that quiet or still either, his body shaking and his breath stuttering from the euphoric feeling of the Omega's hot, tight walls wrapped around his cock. Even through the rubber, the wet heat around him had him desperately wanting to rip the condom off so he could feel the full flesh surrounding him.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight. Gonna ruin you for anyone else," Jason growled, his hips slowly pushing more into the Omega's while biting and sucking the sensitive skin.

"Ah, ah, J-Jason, wait," Y/N gasped, his head tossed back, his chest heaving, his body squirming from the uncomfortable and painful stretch.

"Fuck, just shut up," Jason grumbled, his hands wrapping around the Omega's neck and gripping his hair while moving to press his lips against Y/N's in a rough kiss.

He pushed himself more into the Omega, the latex-covered tip of his cock grazing past the Y/N's prostate as he whimpered and cried into the kiss, his feet pressing into the bed as the intense feeling of his body stretching around the Alpha started to overwhelm him.

Whoever once tried to say the big and massive guys had small penises clearly had not met Jason before, or just didn't understand body proportions and anatomy. Either way, the throbbing and large organ currently trying to park itself inside the Omega was a strong testament to how wrong they were.

There was no possible way Y/N was going to be able to walk properly on his own legs after this. Jason was going to have to carry him for the next few days, which judging by earlier, he probably wouldn't have any issues with it.

"Oh god, fuck. You're so big, I can't," Y/N whined, his back arching as his arms and hands struggled against the binds.

"So I've been told," Jason whispered, his lips kissing the side of the Omega's head, "Am I bigger than him? Better?"

"Fuck yes," Y/N moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.

Jason held a cocky grin at this, feeling himself getting closer to bottoming out inside the Omega, "Good, 'cause you're not letting him or anyone else near you again. This belongs to me," He growled, flexing his dick inside the Omega pulling another whine from the smaller male.

"Ah, ah, no. Please, please," Y/N pleaded, his toes curling.

"Say it," Jason growled in his ear, jerking the hold he still had around his neck and in his hair.

"Belongs to you. No one else's, only you." Y/N babbled, his body twitching.

"Good boy," Jason cooed, his lips attaching themselves to the Omega's neck and sucking a hickey.

When Jason fully bottomed out, he paused his movements, his forehead resting against the Omega's shoulder. He took a deep breath, the scent of the Omega's sweat and natural pheromones overwhelming him.

Both had a light sheen of sweat over their bodies, Jason's from his spiking body temperatures and Y/N from the Alpha's body over him and the slight physical exertion he was going through. The Alpha's breathing was harsh, and his grip on the Omega tightened as he tried to keep himself in control.

Before long, Jason was pulling himself out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back in, earning a cry from the Omega beneath him.

"No, stop! Just, ah, give me a second," Y/N begged, his eyes shut tightly, his nails scratching and digging into the palms of his hands.

"Shut up," Jason growled, his nose nuzzling the crook of the Omega's neck.

The Alpha continued his movements, only increasing his pace and intensity, his hands squeezing around the Omega's neck as his hips snapped into him. Jason's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries filled the room, along with the sound of skin slapping against each other and the rattling of Y/N's bed frame.

Jason stared into Y/N's eyes with an intense focus as he pounded into him, the sight of the Omega's tear-stained face and pouty red lips increasing his drive even more. They hadn't been fucking more than five minutes, yet Y/N looked like his soul was ready to depart his body.

Jason knew his size and stamina could be a lot to take in, and the fact that Y/N was already a mess had him feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. His eyes broke their hold with Y/N's raking down the rest of the Omega's body.

The Omega's smaller pecs were moving up and down with his body as Jason pressed more into him. He could tell the Omega was getting antsy by not being able to move his arms while being fucked within an inch of his life, adding even more to the Alpha's dominant ego.

A few minutes passed as Jason continuously rutted into the Omega, his fingers pressing into the Omega's neck more, slowly taking away his breath, which put the Alpha on a power high. After another few seconds, he paused his movements, taking a moment to catch his breath and release his hold so that the Omega could also have the chance to breathe in new air while pulling himself out.

"Turn your ass over," Jason instructed with a pat to the Omega's thigh.

"Geez, can you give me a sec," Y/N wheezed, his head tossing from side to side.

"Nope." Jason grabbed him by his waist and flipped him onto his stomach, forcing him on his hands and knees to present himself before the Alpha.

"Asswipe," Y/N mumbled into the sheets.

The Omega yelped when he received another slap on his sore ass, loud and sharp, the sting and burn shooting through his entire body.

"What was that?" Jason asked.

"Nothing," Y/N muttered, his voice low.

"That's what I thought," Jason said, his finger brushing down the curve of the Omega's spine, before positioning himself at the Omega's hole and showing himself back inside.

Y/N's face fell onto the bed with a scream at the force, the strength leaving his body as he moaned sheets as Jason pounded him from behind. His hole was spasming around the Alpha's cock, preparing itself for the inevitable knot that was going to enter into him soon.

Jason grabbed his ass cheeks, spreading them so he could better see his cock entering in and out of the Omega's wet and stretched hole. The sight of it gives him another ego boost, slapping the Omega's ass to signal his satisfaction while continuing to plow his insides.

Y/N continued crying and moaning into the bed, which Jason didn't quite appreciate. His mind was suddenly filled with the image of another random Alpha making his Omega scream and cry on their dick and knot in this very room for the neighbors and anyone else nearby to listen.

With that thought in mind, he leaned down to grab the Omega's hair, pulling him off the bed and against his body while keeping his thrusting in a steady rhythm. His other hands rubbed down the Omega's sweaty body before reaching down to stimulate him from the front, adding to his pleasure and increased cries.

"No hiding those sweet sounds from me, baby. In fact, you better scream louder so the whole damn neighborhood knows who you belong to," Jason growled, his hand tightening its hold on the Omega's hair.

Damn Alphas and their possessive ass attitudes. Y/N didn't even want to imagine the looks he was going to get from his neighbors if any of them could hear the two. The walls weren't that thick.

"You're gonna be my good little cum dump, aren't you," Jason grunted, his hand rubbing against the Omega's front while his hips slammed against his ass, "Gonna take my knot and everything else I got."

"Yes, Jason... oh fuck," Y/N gasped, his head thrown back.

They'd fucked like rabbits in that position for some time, Jason's stamina being no joke. But, as his knot started to grow, he was forced to flip the Omega back over onto his back, his thrusts becoming shorter and sharper.

Y/N had begun to squirm once again under the large Alpha, feeling the dick inside him start to swell even more. He could only hope it wouldn't actually tear him in half as so many other people liked to play around and say.

Careful what you wish for folks.

"Jason, oh fuck, for the love of– please, slow down," Y/N begged, his head tossing and turning, his bound arms straining.

"Can't, too close," Jason groaned, his thrusts picking up speed.

"I can't, fuck, please!" Y/N cried.

"Quiet," Jason's hand smacked against the Omega's mouth, muffling his voice, "Stop squirming. Stay the fuck still," He growled.

Y/N whined underneath the Alpha's palm, his body still twisting and struggling. Jason's body was covered in sweat as he pistoned in and out of the Omega rapidly, slowly losing his rhythm as he could feel his knot forming.

"You're gonna be all mine from now on, brat. Hope you were really serious about earlier, 'cause you're only gonna be taking care of me from now on," Jason declared, his teeth biting and nipping at the Omega's earlobe.

The harder Jason's thrusts became, the closer both he and the Omega began to near their release. The Alpha's hand once again found its way around the Omega's neck as he continued to muffle his noises while now taking his breath away.

"Take it, dammit," Jason grunted, his hand pushing the Omega's body further down into the bed.

Y/N's body shook and trembled, his legs shaking and his toes curled. A few seconds later, he was letting out a muffled scream as his body shook with release, slick mixed with his cum squirting from his body and around the Alpha's cock that was now just rutting into him as his knot was about to pop.

"Yeah, there you go," Jason groaned, his own hips stuttering as the Omega's orgasm brought him over the edge, "Shit, here it comes, baby. Take it, fuck, take it all," He growled, his hips slamming all the way in him.

Jason's body stilled, his knot fully expanded and his dick released a massive load of cum, filling the condom inside the Omega's body. His arms wrapped around the smaller male's waist, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm.

Y/N whimpered, his body shaking and twitching from the sensation of the knot filling him, his body feeling utterly exhausted but also saturated from the hard fuck he'd just received.

Jason held him still, his chest heaving and his forehead resting on the Omega's shoulder. Their bodies were a mess, their skin glistening in sweat, their limbs tangled, and their heavy breathing the only sounds heard in the room.

The vigilante felt slight exhaustion, but also an overwhelming amount of relief. The pain of his rut subsided after finally getting to knot an Omega.

Not just any Omega though, the Omega of his dreams.

It was crazy that after one crazy and rough fuck, your feelings could become so obvious. Jason was in love with Y/N and had been for a while. Just needed a little push to realize that.

Of course, this could also be the high amount of endorphins running through his body but let's go with the first one since it's more romantic.

The Alpha rolled the two of them onto their sides, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, their bodies still tied together.

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, his tone much softer and calmer compared to his previous demeanor.

"Sore," Y/N said, his voice hoarse.

"Sorry, guess I got a little carried away," Jason smiled sheepishly, his hand rubbing the Omega's cheek.

"Maybe just a tad bit," Y/N teased

"Shut up. Don't act like you didn't like it," Jason chuckled.

"Mmm, I never said I didn't like it," Y/N smirked, his eyes looking down to the swollen knot still firmly plugged inside him.

"Brat," Jason scoffed, his hand swiping at the Omega's side.

"Asshole," Y/N replied.

The two sat in silence, taking the moment to breathe and collect their thoughts, Jason's hands the smaller male's body.

"Jason," Y/N called, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Hmm?" The Alpha hummed.

"I think the condom broke," Y/N informed, his eyes glancing toward the Alpha.

Jason's eyes widened, his hand moving down to the base of his penis where the knot was starting to shrink. The latex did not seem to have held up against the pressure of his knot, as he could see some unsettling stretches and tears at the base of the rubber around his dick.

"Fuck," Jason cursed.

"Yeah...welp, no better time to test the effectiveness of Omega birth control than now," Y/N commented.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I should've–"

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. We're not exactly virgins here. I've had a few flings and I'm sure you have too. Accidents happen," Y/N reassured, paraphrasing Jason's words from earlier

"I guess," Jason muttered, still feeling slightly guilty.

"Jay, stop worrying. Like you said, there are other options. And besides, we've got more pressing things to be worried about," Y/N stated.

Jason gave the Omega a curious look, "Like what?"

"Like me having to draft a formal response to the black collective of how I let myself be colonized by a white man," Y/N deadpanned.

"Fuck off," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Are you, a white man, trying to silence a black voice? During Black History Month? I thought black lives mattered."

Jason gave the Omega an unimpressed look, "Y/N, it's April."

"Oh, so black history is only contained to one month?"

"You know, I really can't stand you sometimes," Jason said.

"But, you still love me," Y/N responded, once again mocking the Alpha's words.

Jason felt a smile coming over his face, leaning down to place a kiss against the smaller male's lips, "That I do."

Y/N smiled, not realizing the implication of Jason's words before both of their attentions were pulled to the jerking feeling down below. The Alpha's knot had released, but Jaon's dick was once again standing at attention, clearly ready for another round.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Y/N groaned.

Jason smiled sheepishly at him, "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm in a rut, and I've got some makeup to do for lost time if I want to get it back to normal. Hope you didn't have any plans for tonight...or tomorrow."

"Fucking hell," Y/N huffed, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Well, can you at least untie me?" Y/N asked, gesturing to his still-bound arms.

"Hmm, nope," Jason denied.

"Fuck you," Y/N scowled.

"That's the plan."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[hyukascampfire]

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms. Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face, though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could he ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things���putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten around him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[yeri-luvr]

PIGTAILS

pair: gp ! karina x 5thmember ! femreader

wc: 1.9k

includes: smut, slight mommy kink, degradation, dom karina sub reader, oral (karina receiving), they almost get caught lol lmk if i missed any

She eyed you, especially your hairstyle while she thought about what she would do to you once the concert ends. Your hair was styled in cute pigtails, curled at the end with a hello kitty clip laying nearby your temple making the hairstyle look ten times prettier.

You could tell Karina wanted you 30 minutes before the encore was over. Her eyes looking up and down at you was all you needed to confirm your suspicions on whether or not her hands would be on you tonight. Deciding to give fan service while teasing her at the same time, you walk over to her with the sweetest smile, putting on an innocent act.

You whisper, “I can see you eye fucking me already; just think about when you’ll be able to see all of me,” and with that, you leave her with just a kiss to her cheek.

It was hard to miss the loud screams from clueless MY’s as you walk away from the scene. It was quite funny to you how they didn’t have a single clue of how worked up Rina was. You already knew a little dirty talk goes a long way for her, so you knew she would not be able to hold on longer soon before the concert ended.

Fortunately for Jimin, the concert came to an end and she let out a sigh as soon as she stepped foot backstage. Once the adrenaline from putting on the performance of her life ran out, she finally sees you in her peripheral vision. You stand there, chatting it up with Ningning as if you didn’t give her blue balls mid stage.

It didn’t take long before you felt her hard gaze, and once you made eye contact with her you knew you were in some deep shit. As soon as Rina noticed Ningning getting distracted by the snacks left for the girls, she swiftly grabbed you by your wrist and forced you to the second green room backstage. Grateful that the room was empty, Jimin locks to the door behind you and backs you up against it until your chests are pushed upon each other.

“You thought it was gonna be cute once you stepped off that stage after pulling that stunt?” This certainly wasn’t the worst thing you pulled on jimin, it was just that fact that you knew she was horny before you proceeded to rile her up suddenly. Playing it cool you respond, “I’m sorry baby, I just wanted to let you know I loved the staring.”

This seemed to piss her off more, you acting nonchalant all the while she feels like she can’t keep her dick in her pants any longer. “Quit playing innocent with me knowing damn well I could remind you how much of a slut you are for me.” Depending on how bratty you are feeling, you would agree and admit to how many things she could make you do without giving any complaints.

You let out a whine while resisting the urge to squeeze your legs, willing to do about anything to satiate the heat you feel down there. She lets out a sarcastic pout, “My poor baby, you’re so close to humping my leg. Aren’t you desperate..”. Unable to get any words out, you shake your head no but you already know she sees right through you.

She continued to persuade you, “Just quit the act and i’ll do whatever you need me to, my love”. You began to think how does she even have the patience right now to tease you back, and you conclude that karma decided to bite you in the ass.

“I need you jimin, it hurts so much.” Looking up at her, you realize that wasn’t enough. “come on- I need mommy’s help. it aches so much and I need mommy to help.” As much as it hurt to put your pride aside as you thought you were in control here, The sly smile Karina gave while looking down on you compensated for your defeat.

“You know i’m always happy to help my baby, you just need to behave to get what you want.”. As she’s feeling up on you, you finally noticed the feeling of something hard nudging you just above your cunt. You chased it with your hips, trying to feel it more towards where you needed it most.

“Please jimin, I need it.” Keeping your hips still, Karina looks at you confused, “Need what, baby? Can’t use that foul mouth of yours now?”.

You realized how humiliating the situation was and how it completely turned back on you. Believing you could finally break Karina down as much as she does to you, you failed to remember just how down bad you were for the girl.

At this point you’ve given up the goal of having her in any position you wanted, and instead basked in the idea of being her source of pleasure, being the one name she yells while she reaches her peak.

“I want you in my mouth. Please mommy, can I help you feel good?” Karina noticed your voice getting whinier by the second, your legs unashamedly squeezing around hers while dragging your cunt up and down her flexed thigh. “Hm, do you think you deserve to have my cock?” It didn’t even take a second for you to whip out a response, “Only if you think I deserve it.”.

Pleased with your response, she lifts you up and walks towards the leather couch not too far from where you two stand at the door. Without much remorse, she drops you onto the couch as if you were a rag doll and was quick to start unbuckling her belt. Tossing it somewhere to find later in the room, her pants were off quicker than you could get your shirt and bra off. She finishes the job for you, unclasping the pink bra and going straight to work with your tits.

If you loved karinas boobs, she loved yours a thousand times more. She never failed to pay attention to your nipples during foreplay, and it always had you moaning as if she was dicking you down right that second.

“Baby you’re gonna have to keep quiet for me, we barely even started,” You heard her rush out amidst a particular loud cry. Suddenly remembering the task at hand, you lightly push her head off your saliva-covered chest until she’s propped up on the couch. Fortunately for you, all that was left to cover her was her boxers so you were able to quickly get to work. Once she was exposed, you groaned at the sight of her tip slapping her abdomen, focusing on the precum and the string it makes when you lift her dick off her stomach.

Your prized possession felt heavy in your hand, you stared at it enamored by the length as if it was your first time with her all over again. Karina isn’t shy at hiding her impatience, tapping your head before guiding you closer to her cock, “Make me wait any longer or you’re only getting my fingers tonight”. This made you look up at her before proceeding to lick just the tip, just enough to leave her mouth hanging while waiting for your next move. With no warning, your next move was taking her whole but slowly, not forgetting to keep eye contact and track her reactions.

unable to keep eye contact, Rina throws her head back while relishing on the feeling she’s been waiting for. Keeping an eye on her came easy for you, you took pride in being the only one who gets to see her like this.

Starting to bob your head up and down, you made small noises whenever her tip came in contact with the back of your throat. Karina was grateful that you were quick to be submissive, but was still displeased at the pace you were presenting her. With one hand she managed to grab both of your pigtails and set the pace for the rest of the time being. The small noises coming from you turned into full on gags, and tears streamed from your eyes along with the “waterproof” mascara your makeup artist used.

Karina considered it a blessing to see you like this. Your image to the public being a woman that looks like an angel and even acts like one quickly crumbles once you happen to be with her behind closed doors. unfortunately anything you do with each other behind said doors would make an angel frown or would not be considered a blessing by others.

You on the other hand already lost track of time. You didn’t notice when you gave up on looking at karina, and you most definitely didn’t notice when someone came knocking at the door.

“Hello?” Two knocks and a muffled voice, “Aeri, I swore my headphones were in here”

This got you to look up, not at the door but at Karina who has yet to stop thrusting in your abused throat.

“I’m in here Minjeong! I’m changing, almost done.” Through your haze you acknowledge her talent at keeping a stable voice while receiving head.

With no other response from Min, her focus returns to you and she smiles fondly. She couldn’t help but think you looked so cute while getting your mouth fucked simultaneously. All she could hear were your usual whimpers and the sloppiness of your spit coating her dick. Her grip on your hair tightens as she gets closer and you shut your eyes waiting for a twitch or a bead of precum that’ll let you know her climax will come soon.

She grunts, “Where do you want me?”. This is probably your favorite question, but you know the answer doesn’t really matter since she’ll most likely get hard again at the sight of her load anywhere on you.

You lift your head off her, puffing out a breath through your mouth after managing to breath only through your nose for so long. You don’t leave her unattended, quick enough to massage her cock before she even noticed you mouth was off of her.

“You can cum in my mouth, remind me of how good you taste,” And with that, she licks her lips and wraps her hand around your hand that jerks her off. She squeezes her hand around you, making her wince at the tightness around her very hard member. both of your hands glided along her cock easily thanks to your spit, and you were practically grinding your cunt down on your heel. You take pleasure in feeling the fabric of your panties rub between your lips and right against your clit.

Karina feeling herself getting close, she thrusts her hips upwards towards your hands. You knew she was reaching her climax by the way her unoccupied hand grabbed at the couch, so you prepared yourself by positioning your mouth right above her tip, sticking your tongue out ready to lick up anything she gives you.

When Karina breaks down is when you finally get what you’ve been waiting for. Not only were you waiting for her to cum in your mouth, but you were mainly excited for the moans she lets out when she’s spent. They aren’t like the usual groans or the huffs she lets out, but they are whines that rarely come out from her. You continue to lick at her sensitive slit just to hear a little more, and all you can do is stare as she throws her head back and lets out more whimpers.

Soon after she catches her breath, she notices your hips moving back and forth while on your knees and she begins to anticipate just how much slick you had from getting her off.

Pulling you up by under your arms she mumbles, “Cmon, my baby still needs help.”

a/n: tysm for reading! i barely proof read this so sorry for the mistake that might b in here💕 also accepting requests

[toranesu]

Case 7 0 7 : just for you .

⌗ sub bottom afab. sukuna x dom top m. reader

cw. punishment-goes-too-far, threat of free use, degrading, pussy slapping, ooc, talk about breeding.

the room smelled filthy of sex and fluids, disheveled clothes everywhere on the floor, and long discarded. "you think that was funny, huh? pulling shit like that," you growled, pressing your fingers up against sukuna's sweet spot.

"nhhhaah...! f-fuck!" there laid the great king of curses, legs spread wide open to give you access to his wet folds. "f-fuck you! i can do whatever the fuck i want!" he spat out, managing to give you a dirty glare as if to show that he was in control.

alas, he wasn't. "ah-hah!" sukuna wailed, his toes curling as he felt your palm landing on his clit.

"still acting like a brat, aren't you?" you frowned, plunging your fingers back and forth into his entrance. "you would think that by now, you know who's in control here, 'kuna," he cries when he feels your thumb rub over his clitoris. so sensitive when you've barely done anything to him.

he bites his lip, struggling to bite back at you. "y-you— you're just a lowly human," he spits, nails clawing into the bedsheets when he feels you bury your fingers knuckle-deep inside him.

"am i, ryo?" the usage of his first name makes his insides clench around you, keeping you buried deep inside him. "maybe i am," you lean down, pressing your lips below his ear, "but to you, i'm not."

sukuna whines, bucking his hips up at your words. it's true, after all. only you got to see him like this. only you could make him like this. only you could ever treat him like some lowly being, and he'd let you get away with it.

"so i don't appreciate you getting all touchy feely with people who aren't me," you nibble at his earlobe, the gesture leaving sukuna wet and wanting. without him realizing it, sukuna's arms reach to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer.

your free hand glides across sukuna's thigh, getting comfortable on his hip as he exhales, his warm insides clenching and unclenching around you. "you know you're mine as much as i am yours, don't you?" sukuna's legs tighten around your waist as your fingers start to move inside him once more.

sukuna moans, bucking his hips up to your touch. "i'm not—" he starts. oh, how sweet you are to him.. how sweet and rough you can be to him at the same time. it makes him weak. his pride simply cannot allow that.

"you're my property, you're my dog," he digs his nails into your back, "not the other way around." you sigh, pulling your fingers out of his hole without a word. sukuna whines, pulling away from you and shooting you a dirty glare.

in a swift move, you're forcing yourself inside him. your hands on his hips as you plunge yourself deep inside him. "aahngh–! " sukuna moans in surprise, his head throwing back as he claws the bedsheets, almost enough to rip them.

"you don't ever fucking learn, do you, sukuna?" you bite, pulling his hips closer to you and nuzzling against that spot that feels so, so good. sukuna's chest heaves, an arm covering half of his face, yet showing enough of his eyes to know he's once again glaring at you.

he snarls, "hah, what the fuck do i need to learn from a mutt like you?" your gaze goes cold, and you pull out enough for just the tip to be in. when your nails dig into his skin, and you snap your hips against his, sukuna lets the most obnoxious moan you've heard all night.

you look down, and you notice the light bulge on his stomach that always grows whenever you're in the deepest parts of him. "say what you want. but you're mine, and you know it," you say with a light growl, your hand pressing on his stomach to feel the bulge.

sukuna looks down to his stomach, feeling you, your touch, your dick, oh, it's too much. he whimpers, clamping down on you while his hand reaches to lay on top of yours.

"but alright, if that's what you want," you pull your hand away from his, staring down on him from above. "maybe i'll just let everyone see how the great king of the curses really is," he squirms at your words, lightly pressing his hips down on yours.

he glares at you, yet not finding the words to spit back at you. your rough hand glides across his thigh, fiddling with his cunt as he spasms and groans. "or i'll let them use you. since i don't seem to be enough for you anyway," he clenches up at that, his hand reaching to wrap around your wrist.

"f-fuck you–" sukuna spites, and you slap his cunt once more, earning a cry from sukuna as his hips buck up. "what? i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you stare at him coldly, lightly grinding your hips against his as he bites back his moans.

"i'd spread your legs open for those curses to use as they please. or maybe the humans too. maybe gojo, maybe uraume," you bring up onto the topic of what he'd done earlier today, purposely riling you up and getting way too close to that servant of his.

sukuna visibly flinches at your words. the utter emptiness in your voice frightened him. he wondered if you'd actually do that. "i'd just leave you there, probably. it'd be too disgusting for me to look at," you spit, spreading his folds open with your fingers.

"y-you—" sukuna starts, red eyes glaring at you from below. your words make his heart clench. even he, felt disgusted at your words. he felt his soul crash down, he felt uncomfortable, he felt guilty. "what? you started this," you sigh, not even giving him the courtesy of a kiss, and just mindlessly slamming your hips against his.

sukuna groaned, his hands scrambling, not knowing what to do with them. it felt good. sex always felt good with you, but after what you said? it's different now.

"and since you're not mine, there's no reason for me to be yours, either," you continue, lazily pulling your dick out until just the tip was in, and pounding into him only half in. sukuna's hands reach to grab yours, squeezing so tightly that it hurts. "i am your king," he growled, slamming his hips down on yours to get you all the way in. what the hell were you saying? what the hell are you doing?

"like hell you are," you grab his hands with one of yours, pinning his wrists above his head. sukuna could easily knock you out. sukuna could easily push you away if he wanted to. hell, he could kill you if he wanted to. but he doesn't. he simply moans and thrusts his hips back up to yours.

he's weak. too weak to even find the words to spite you. the sex doesn't feel as good as it usually is. his pussy is clenching tightly around you, your words ringing through his head. "you can do whatever you want, and so will i," you look down on him, pressing the tip of your dick onto his sweet spot.

sukuna throws his head back, his pussy spasming around you. he feels like he's close, but he can't come. he just can't. "you can get your slutty hole used by whoever you want, sukuna," you say, rolling your hips against his. "i'll fuck someone else. i mean, anyone would be glad to get knocked up by me, y'know?" your words stung like a knife into his heart.

"plus, by then, your cunt would be too lose, anyway," and just like that, he breaks. sukuna's legs drop down, his nails digging into his palms as his lips tremble. "fuck you," he snarls, his whole body going limp as he feels tears threatening to spill out of the corner of his eyes.

for a split second, you felt guilty. surely you didn't go too far, right? wrong.

sukuna couldn't even find the words to bite back at you, trying to keep himself intact after you said all those words to him. he doesn't want that. he doesn't want to be shared. he doesn't want you to be shared.

"you gonna start crying, slut?" you snap your hips against his, shoving your feelings aside. "you started this, so see it to the fucking end, will you?" sukuna's heart shatters, the sex really didn't feel good now.

your hands are still restricting his, so he couldn't push you away. he's strong. he's the strongest. so why can't he fight you back now? his nails are starting to draw blood out from his palm, everything was starting to hurt. with a light sob, he calls out your name.

" 'm sorry," sukuna cries. he didn't want this. he was just looking for some fun. he just wanted to rile you up for some punishment, for some good sex. "y-you fucking asshole," tears were starting to pour out of his eyes.

the great sukuna did cry during sex, but not like this. your hands immediately release his wrists, wrapping your arms around him as if on instinct. "ryo, i'm sorry, i–" you try to apologize, only to be responded by sukuna wrapping his arms and legs around you tightly, his nails digging onto your back, as if he was petrified of you leaving him.

"i didn't mean that," you tell him, trying to get ahold of yourself as he buries his face into your shoulder. he felt embarrassed, then too. the great sukuna doesn't cry. especially not due to things like this. "..please," sukuna whimpers, his whole body trembling.

he sobs onto your shoulder, clinging onto your body as if you were to die, once again. "don't do that to me," he begs of you. and at that moment, he couldn't even register how pathetic he sounded. how could he, the king of curses, crumble under mere words of threat? how could he become this weak?

your heart drops down to your chest when you realize what you've done. perhaps, the monster was you. "i'm sorry," you whisper out, holding him closer. "i wouldn't do that, ryo. you know i wouldn't," sukuna exhales shakily, the embarrassment creeping alongside the hurt.

"i hate you," he whimpers, but he knows you wouldn't. he knows you love him. you've loved him for years, and never once have you said things like that towards him. he can't help feeling hurt.

all this hurt his pride. to think mere words from a mere human could hurt him this much? to think something so silly had him weak, unable to move an inch, unable to pull or push away. this is the vulnerable side only you would ever see.

you pull away from the hug, getting a good look at sukuna's face. his cheeks were wet from tears, his face red and lips slightly bloody from biting himself. "i'd rather kill myself than hand you or myself over to anyone else," sukuna's lips tremble when he feels you wipe his tears, reminding him of the gentle ways you usually use on him.

"don't fucking say shit like that again," he growls, yet it being covered by an involuntary whimper, "i'll kill you if you do."

you chuckle lightly, pressing your forehead onto his. "i'm sorry," you apologize, just barely above a whisper. sukuna pouts slightly before pulling you into a kiss, grinding his hips onto yours to remind you that you were still inside him.

"just impregnate me or something so we both don't have to worry about shit like that," he smirks, barely joking as he pulls you close.

you couldn't help but chuckle, "as if you'd ever be ready for that."

© toranesu