#just noticed that the top seven are all solids

[slugghee]

FELT ASSHOLE RANKING!!

who's the assholiest of them all!!

Itchy - Itchiest asshole on the planet

Die - Definition of disproportionate retribution. Would vivisect you for what could creatively be interpreted as a slight against him… if he had the fucking balls (Unrelated but he would scream if he saw this ranking. He does not believe him and Itchy are anywhere near the same level)

Clover - Gets away with wayyy too much shit and he knows it. The master of backhanded compliments. Has a lil' nasty habit of treating his peers like toys. Loves to employ plausible deniability with his assholery, and his luck covers his tracks

Snowman - Would surpass Clover if she didn't think the Felt simply weren't worth the effort. Has no problem instilling mortal fear in them for the sin of breathing the same air as her

Trace - Will deny it but he’s by far the biggest shittalker in the Felt. Can get very mean about people he doesn't care about, even if he’s too much of a little bitch to say it to their face. His past trails power also gives him a lot of material…

Fin - Originally wasn't that much of an asshole at all, but has become more and more assholey after joining the Felt (*cough* no thanks to Trace…)

Crowbar - Assholery is mostly limited to workplace frustrations. Unfortunately, he has never had a fucking hour off

Matchsticks - don't be fooled by his firefighter schtick… he starts fires on PURPOSE! all to experience the rush of PUTTING THEM OUT! Assholery is mostly but not entirely limited to disingenuous arson tactics

Stitch - His power gives him plenty of opportunities to commit assholery. However, he's much more responsible about it than most other felt members would be. Doesn't stop him tho

Quarters - Just because he's a standoffish loner doesn't mean he's an asshole. Well unless you try to talk to him for more than 15 seconds

Biscuits - More aware of the consequences of him and Eggs's antics than Eggs is, but goes along with it anyways because they're buddies :) (and also he generally cares less about others’ feelings than Eggs does) 

Doze - Can get extremely passive aggressive if you make him angry. Usually it's justified though… usually…

Sawbuck - By far the most well-adjusted Felt member. Sawbuck only acts like an asshole when it's hot or justified. Even then he tries not to start conflicts, not because he's a pushover but because he has self-respect and robust self-restraint. (and also bc his power sucks)

Cans - He's just here to help!! Has trouble reading the room and gets riled up quickly, but will apologize for misunderstandings. Still not above teasing everyone for being fucking TINY!!

Eggs - Really… not an asshole. It would be hard for him to act assholeish if he tried. Not above pranking folks with Biscuits but that's like bare bones leprechaun behavior

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-three

861 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two

Eddie was so casual when he suggested his house for their meeting today. Yet, Steve isn’t even the one bringing him to his place, and he’s definitely freaked out - a not insignificant amount.

He follows closely behind Eddie’s van, and soon enough, they pull into Forest Hills Trailer Park. Steve has never been here before. He watches as Eddie climbs out of his van and bounds up the steps. Eddie unlocks the door and holds it open, waiting for Steve. The jock grabs his backpack and meets Eddie at the top of the stairs.

Eddie dips forward into some semblance of a bow, holding his arm out in welcome. Steve shakes his head in amusement and walks past him through the front door, which leads straight into the living room. 

Steve tries his best to subtly ogle in the space. What catches his attention immediately are the rows and rows of novelty mugs and baseball caps lining the walls. Behind him, Eddie shuts and locks the door before flopping onto the loveseat.

Eddie also looks around the space. If he’s anything like Steve, he’s trying to see his home with fresh eyes. Eddie meets Steve’s gaze. “Sorry about the mess. The maid took the week off,” he says, deadpan.

Steve cracks a smile and Eddie grins. With the tension broken, Steve feels comfortable enough to make his way to the loveseat as well, sitting on the opposite side. He unzips his bag and takes out his portrait, and Eddie opens his own bag to do the same. 

Steve bites his lip to tamp down his smile when he notices Eddie holding the pencil and eraser Steve gave him a week ago. 

They discard their bags onto the floor.

Steve pauses just as he’s about to unveil his art, side-eyeing Eddie enough to catch that the boy’s gaze is absolutely trained on what Steve’s doing. He turns his head to Eddie, and the boy looks away innocently. Steve doesn’t trust him one bit. 

He considers moving to the recliner in the corner, but that’s too far from Eddie (Steve doesn’t even bother attempting to convince himself he only wants to be close to him for practical, project-related reasons - he’s all too aware how smitten he is for this idiot). Instead, he turns sideways on the couch and sits criss-crossed, facing Eddie. The other teen freezes minutely before following Steve’s lead.

Soon enough, they get lost in their work. Steve tries his best to ignore the way their knees are pressed together, but the solid pressure is as distracting as it is comforting. 

He had thought that maybe now, with them alone and not in public, Eddie might finally want to acknowledge the notes, but this is okay too. It’s better, actually - Eddie is more comfortable now that he’s in his own space. As much as Steve adores Eddie’s usual persona, he loves to see him like this - with loose limbs and soft smiles. He has to admit, this is the easiest it’s ever been to capture Eddie’s likeness on paper.

An hour into their meeting, Eddie stands with a groan and stretches until his back pops. “Do you want something to drink? Coke? Water? Juice?” he asks expectantly as he makes his way to the small kitchen.

“Juice sounds good,” Steve calls and Eddie hums in confirmation. He comes back a minute later with two mugs. 

“Cider, your highness,” Eddie presents the drink, thankfully not dipping into another bow.

“Thanks, man.” Steve accepts the mug and holds it up to his face to get a good look at the art on it. It’s a rooster. The inside and top of the mug are a pretty yellow color. Steve kind of likes it. 

Eddie’s, on the other hand, is horrendous.

Eddie sees Steve looking at the mug and brings it to his mouth, making sure the face is on display and pointing at Steve. He keeps eye contact, his huge eyes peering over the orange ceramic ears looking silly. Still, the attention makes Steve break eye contact with warm cheeks.

Eddie takes one last pull from his mug before setting it on the coffee table. “Alright, break’s over. Back to work,” he declares.

Eddie i don’t know if you remember when i told you that i don’t read books outside of class, but i might’ve stretched the truth just a little bit  when I first noticed you, you always had your nose buried and a book i went to the library and found one that had made a couple appearances and knew and must be one you really liked because your name was on the log card like five times  and i gotta say, after reading it for myself, i don’t understand how you can read that shit all the time i’m pretty sure at least 50% was just made up words honestly, i don’t think i even know what it was about hey, maybe that’s why you read it so many times; you still don’t get it either ;)  p.s. maybe you have the right idea - i’ll have to give it another try  p.s.s. you looked real nice yesterday -H

twenty-four

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair

@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine

@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-wagggie

[roesworks]

my marauder's sex headcannons

james, sirius, and remus x female reader

WORD COUNT : 723

i wanna feed you guys (after literally a year) so enjoy my personal headcannons

james potter -

he is a certified switch. he leans more on the dominant side, but sometimes he just has a need to be told what to do.

when you're on top, without a doubt he is calling you mommy. not to mention, he will whine. he's always whining.

plus he will NEVER SHUT UP.

HE WILL ALWAYS PRAISE YOU.

"you're doing so good f'me, my love."

and he will never hit you or degrade you. he thinks that's just plain mean.

sex should be fun. he does it often so that he can skip out of doing cardio. killing two birds with one stone.

on the aspect of cardio, though, james can last a long time. he could go the entire night if he really wanted to.

"please just one more. one more, i promise."

he's a big guy, so you already KNOW that dick is at LEAST nine inches.

"it won't fit-" "-i'll make it fit."

HE LOVES THE STOMACH BULGE

fucking under the cloak.

while he doesn't like to hit you, he is most definitely leaving accidental bruises from gripping you so hard.

he'd rather grip your arm than the mattress. he loves feeling you.

he's probably the loudest moaner in the entire wizarding world.

he enjoys moaning your name so much that if you didn't cast a silencing charm then everyone in hogwarts would hear him.

he loves your boobs. whether they're big or small, he is most definitely sucking them and leaving them polka dotted by the end of the night.

and literally every night he's with you. sex or not. he's latching his lips onto your nipples and sucking the life out of them like they're lollipops.

he is without a doubt an experimentalist.

like whenever he finds a new position or just a new kinky idea, he's going to bring it up to you.

most of the time, you enjoy it. other times, it's just a one time thing.

he tells you he loves you all the time. it's all part of his 'never-shuts-up' persona.

sirius black -

dom. without a doubt.

"who's pussy is this?" "yours."

he likes making you cry. tears of pleasure are his favorite.

degradation is never out of the question.

and "my little slut."

while that is the case, he will, 'talk you through it' if you will.

"finish for me, baby."

100% getting off to you screaming his name.

he's definitely an ass guy. he likes groping it and hitting it whenever he gets the chance.

he's a little on the smaller side, but he definitely makes up for it in width.

he is very. VERY. loud.

he can last a SOLID three or four rounds.

ngl, he looooves bondage.

lets be real, he keeps a black rope in his nightstand.

he will most DEFINITELY tease you with his wand.

or he'll LITERALLY stick it up there.

honestly, he just likes to tease you in general.

pussy checks in public ALLLL THE TIME.

sometimes if you're wet enough, he will just do it with you on the spot.

"wet already, baby?"

he wants everyone to know that you're his, so he takes measures by leaving hickeys all over you, especially in noticeable places.

LOVES seeing you ride him.

he is 100% stealing james' cloak and doing it with you under it.

remus lupin -

a switch, but much more on the submissive side. so basically a sub.

he will literally get off on getting told what to do. and frankly he prefers being a pillow princess.

he definitely starts off quiet, like a whimper here and there,

and then as he gets more and more comfortable with you, (like around your third time) his whimpers become louder and louder.

he is a SOLID seven inches.

he will do some pretty kinky stuff with you.

like experimenting with candle wax. because he was curious, obviously.

and this guy has a huge thing for period sex. not that you mind it, it helps you forget about your cramps.

the rare times that he's on top, he is the sweetest ever.

"you feel so good."

you've done it in the library a few several times... in the restricted section. nobody has to know that, though.

he loves how you taste and will always tell you that.

your boobs are one of his most favorite things about you.

bite bite bite

and he loves touching you.

anywhere he can get his hands on you he will caress you.

he doesn't really last more than three rounds, but,

there were definitely days where he was so into it that he just couldn't stop.

he loves receiving pleasure and praise soso much.

he's just a sweet boy.

[engeorged]

Dear Alex

Dear Alex,

I can’t really remember how many times I’ve started writing this letter and how many times I’ve thrown it in the bin. It’s a really shitty way of doing this but I just don’t think I can tell you any of this to your face. I’m too embarrassed. It all started as a prank, a way to level the tables with the both of us. I meant to tell you sooner but I guess it got out of hand and here we are. I’m gonna have to start at the beginning I think. You’ll know all of this, just not my side of it I guess.

After university when we moved in together I wasn’t sure we’d last as room mates for more than a few months but it was so easy hanging out with you and we were both the same level of untidy so we didn’t piss each other off. We did have those tricky few weeks a few years back when we dated the same guy without realising but he turned into the biggest ballsack on the planet so it wasn’t hard to get over that!

I’m only mentioning that because that’s not the reason I got you fat. It wasn’t revenge for anything. I don’t fully remember the original reason to be completely honest, it wasn’t really a thought through thing, it just sort of happened. And yeah I know I just threw that it there. I got you fat. I mean you definitely played your part in it but I really messed with you man and I’m sorry.

It was innocent at first, I noticed when you started your new job and you were tired all the time, you started going to the gym less. I think it was when we were decorating the kitchen one weekend and you were painting the ceiling, I saw your rounded little pot belly when you were reaching up. All those late night take aways and evenings sat in front of the tv watching the football were taking their toll. Your flat muscled six pack was disappearing. It instantly filled me with hope. You had a flaw I could exploit!

It pains me to say this but of the two of us, you’d always been the hot one. Don’t get me wrong, on my own, I’m not bad looking. In fact if someone asked me I’d probably say I was a nine, it’s just that next to you, I’m a seven at best. Your blonde hair and permanently tanned skin made you the hottest guy in most rooms. All 6’5 of you was built like a cartoon of a rugby player which made it even worse! You’re a solid ten man and you always have been. I don’t think I realised how jealous I was until I saw you had a flaw. That solid curved furry belly I glimpsed gave me the seed of an idea. If you were fatter, it might even the playing field. I’m not proud of this, I just think you’d reserve the truth.

It started gently at first, I’d make twice the amount of food I’d normally make when it was my turn to cook. I’d pack the fridge with snacks and unhealthy things for you to pick at. I’d hand you beers when we were watching the game. You were so zoned into the match you never noticed me topping up your snacks or replacing the bud lights with full fat beers. Over a few months I watched as your little curve turned into a more substantial beer belly. And fuck you if it wasn’t the most perfect beer belly I’d ever seen. I was hoping it would make you less hot but turned out it made you hotter. Instead of a flabby pimply gut covered in stretch marks, you developed a firm round belly with perfect skin and even kept your Adonis belt. That’s when it got serious.

The first thing was gainer shakes. I started sprinkling gainer powder in everything, adding it to every meal or sauce I could dissolve it into. Everything I cooked for you was loaded with butter and ghee to double the calorie count. I found larger versions of our plates so that I could increase your portion sizes without you realising. I even started buying your clothes a size up and replacing the labels so you wouldn't realise. I was literally feeding you up like a fattened calf. And boy did you balloon. The first phase was months long and you gained 20/30lbs but this second phase was like you were being filled with an air pump. I can’t really believe I could do this to someone, especially someone who I would call my best friend.

It all came to a head yesterday when I crossed the line big time. That’s why I’m writing this letter now and actually sending it. I can hear you now snoring from your bedroom. Sleeping off the mammoth meal I stuffed into you across the evening. I’ve been awake all night and I keep going in to check on you to make sure you’re still breathing. I can’t believe you ate as much as you did and I can’t believe I pushed you into doing it.

I was only planning on slipping you a few of the tablets I found online. They were definitely safe and I want you to know I checked them and double checked them to make sure they were ok for human consumption. I guess that gives away the fact that they were actually for animals. I think they are used by wagyu beef farmers to get cows fattened up before they are butchered. They are supposed to increase appetite and metabolism. I popped two in your beer before the game and started my usual sneaky increase in your snacks. It wasn’t hard as you always put a lot away when our team is winning and they were three goals up by half time. I think at that point you’d eaten two bowls of Doritos and dip, a plate of sliders and a whole pan of chilli which I think would have served 8 comfortably. That was on top of the best of a crate of twelve beers. Your belly was swollen up to it’s usual bulging mass and you were already rubbing the sides to alleviate some pressure. I should have stopped there but I couldn’t help myself. I slipped you another few of the tablets. I guess in hindsight, the first two hadn’t properly kicked in at that point which meant that by the time the second half had started they were in full force. I couldn’t keep up with the snacks and you’d pretty much polished off the lot by the time the match had ended.

For the record it was your idea to order pizza. Your belly at that point was totally rounded out and your T-shirt was stretched over it’s taut surface. I guess you were pretty buzzed because you ordered four xl meat feasts. I didn’t really have any choice but to let it happen. And you might not remember any of this but you basically inhaled the first two. By that point you were fully maxed out. Your belly was tight and even the xxxl T-shirt you were wearing (that you thought was an xl) was beginning to show a few inches of your swollen belly. You could hardly move and I felt awful. Well that’s not totally true. I was actually pretty pleased at the state of you. My plan after all was to make you gain a few pounds so I’d be hotter than you and you’d basically blimped.

Anyway, what happened next I am truly ashamed about. You were laying there on the sofa clutching at your belly. The tablets clearly convincing your brain you were still starving, even thought your belly was basically an exercise ball now. And you were just moaning with the two pizzas next to you. And that’s when I snapped. I jumped up and shoved a whole slice into your mouth. You gaged but then after a few chews swallowed it right down. Slice by slice I pushed the remaining two huge pizzas down your throat. I could literally see your belly blowing up in front of me. When eventually I reached into the box for the next piece and found nothing, I realised what I’d done. I stepped back and looked at you. Spread eagle on the sofa, your belly sticking way up and round. Covered in sweat and grease. It’s as if I stepped out of my own body and realised what I had done to you. You were fucking huge man.

I left the room and went to my own to consider what to do next. I was half appalled and half in awe at the size of you man. When I came in half an hour later you were fast asleep and snoring like a pig, your gut still very much occupying its space. Guiltily, I managed to get you into your bed and laid you on your back so your belly could reach its full swell. I pulled your belt off so your stomach wasn’t under any pressure. I didn’t want you to pop or anything.

As I said I know our friendship is probably over but I want you to know I’m truly sorry. I took this way too far and I regret it. I’m happy for you to do what you need to do, and if that’s punch me in the face then so be it. I hope that in a few weeks you’ll be able to forgive me but if not then I understand and I will move out if that’s what you want.

In the spirit of fully disclosure, I want you to know that even though you’re maybe 100lbs fatter than you were, I still think you’re a ten. In fact if I’m really honest, I think you might even be hotter than that. Your belly last night was horrifying but also strangely attractive. The firm roundness of it and knowing how much food I’d crammed in there was actually quite erotic. Sorry if that’s tmi but I think I wanted you to have the whole truth. I have a small suspicion that you’ve actually enjoyed getting bigger and if that’s wrong then I’m sorry for presuming. But I actually wonder how big we could get that thing.

Let me know what I can do to make it up to you, or if I’m right and you wanna continue.

Yours apologetically (and hopefully)

Nate

Continued at Dear Nate

For the rest of my stories click here

[dotster001]

im not certain if you're taking requests or if you even write crowley so if you don't, please ignore this and have a lovely day :)

reader who has a crush on crowley and shows this by stealing his coat and top hat at any oppertunity, because thievery is my love language and also his coat looks really nice and comfy.

Crow(ley) Brain

A/N: I really liked how this came out. Hope it was what you were looking for 😁

3k followers masterlist

CW:It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

Present Day

Dire was getting ready for his work as headmaster, but he couldn't find his mask. He'd taken it off the night before so that he could turn your cuddle session into a full on makeout session. He could have sworn it was on the side table, but it was just…gone. 

"You haven't seen my mask, have you?" He asked as he started lifting up blankets and pillows and his various shiny things he kept on the floor.

"No," you said simply.

He turned back around, and you were fully dressed in his hat, mask, and coat, the coat hanging haphazardly off your shoulders.

"You're certain you haven't seen my mask?" he said with a smirk.

"Nope."

He walked up to you, lifting the mask slightly off your face so that he could kiss the tip of your nose.

"Well, you know, if I don't have my stuff, I can't go to work, and you can't go to class, cause I'll be lonely."

You gave the fakest gasp he's ever heard. "Oh no!"

He sighed.

"I can be generous with my lover. Five more minutes together, then you'll give me back my stuff."

You pouted. "25 minutes."

"Deal."

He really should not even bother looking anymore. Long before you'd started dating, you'd shown your hand. He just could forget all about it when you smiled at him so innocently.

6 months prior…

"Listen, prefect, the rest of the boys and I are starting to get suspicious," Ace whispered as you cycled through your keys. You'd bought a lot off of Sam, so you couldn't be sure which one was the one you were looking for.

"About what?"

"Well, you said that we were doing this to prank Crowley, but we aren't sure if that's true."

"Huh?"

"Look, the rest will never say it to your face, but you spend far too much time hanging out with the headmage for it to be a normal thing."

"I'm not following your logic."

Ace exhaled heavily. "Well, some of the guys think, not necessarily me, but some of them, think that-"

"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH THE HEADMAGE, HENCHHUMAN!" a gray blob shouted as it rammed into you, making you drop all the keys and lose your place.

"Sevens! Grim! You're supposed to keep watching at the end of the hall!"

"You don't need six people guarding a set of stairs and a hallway that doesn't spawn more than 40 feet," Grim folded his arms with a harrumph.

By sheer luck, you found the key you needed on the first try, and opened the headmage's office.

"What makes you think I'm in love with the headmage?" you asked with a scowl. "Nevermind, just watch the door. We'll discuss your idiocy later."

You stomped into the room, Grim right behind you.

"Grim! I said-"

"Ace can watch the door just fine! You can't avoid this conversation! Even Jack and Deuce are suspicious, and they don't notice anything!"

You glared, before digging through Crowley's desk, looking for something, anything, to take.

"That doesn't make any sense. If I loved Crowley, why would I rob him?"

"Perhaps to get his attention," the devil in question boomed directly behind you. Both you and Grim froze, and you stared at the open door.

"Ace!" You whined.

He peeked in, saw Crowley, and grimaced, before giving a half hearted,

"Um, caw caw…."

"Too late, Ace!" You snapped.

"He didn't come through the door!" He snapped back.

"Correct. In my geniusness, I laid a trap for you!"

You pouted. Sam must have sold you out. Your crew was stupid, but they were rock solid.

You turned to Crowley, putting your most innocent grin on.

"What can I do for you, headmage?"

"I'd like my things back, my darling crow," he hummed.

"Things?" Sweet, innocent, give him nothing to work with.

"You got sloppy, darling," he smirked, hooking a clawed finger under the chain you were wearing, revealing your gold pendant.

Or, more accurately, his gold pendant.

"I'll admit, you had me fooled for a while, but even the dimmest will notice if you literally flaunt your stolen trinkets. Although," he paused, tilting his head to the side, "it does suit you." He hummed for a moment, then, "Keep it."

"Huh?"

"I want you to keep it." He seemed to remember Ace and Grim were there, and he gave a cough.

"You two. I have the mastermind. Get out of here before I change my mind."

Ace and Grim sprinted away without a glance back. Cowards.

You pouted, until you felt the claw from earlier tilting your chin up.

"What am I going to do with you, prefect?" He muttered, and in a way that you felt like you weren't actually meant to hear.

"I suppose all I can do is give you the attention you seem to crave." His smile would light up your world anyway.

4 months prior….

But it wasn't about attention. Which is why, even though you were Crowley's partner of two months, you still stole his stuff.

But today? Today was your masterpiece! You'd somehow managed to steal his cloak. You felt bad as hell.

And, since you two were dating, you were going to get away with it! Everyone assumes it was a sweet gesture, intended to keep a cold partner warm, or a possessive gesture, intended to show everyone who you belonged to. Either way? No one questioned you.

No one but the man himself, who had snuck up behind you in the courtyard and placed both his hands on your shoulders.

"Morning, my radiant prefect," he hummed, clearly grinning at how stiff you'd gotten. "I thought we had fixed our little thieving issue. Have you felt I've been neglecting you?" He nuzzled into your neck, pressing a ticklish kiss there.

"Nope. Just wanted to take it," you answered. You decided that honesty was what would make this relationship work.

"Oh? Any reason?" He asked, gently attempting to take it off your shoulders, while you sidestepped. To an outsider, it would look like two lovers doing a dance, not a headmage trying to steal his coat back.

"If I told you, it would spoil the fun of the mystery for you!" You sang as you expertly freed yourself and skipped away.

2 months prior…

"You're dating the man. Literally, you want his hat, ask for it!" Sebek growled. 

Ace was no longer your lookout when robbing your boyfriend. And Jack's new job was distracting Grim. You'd learned your lesson.

And you were thinking you were learning a new one. Sebek was too loud to be a lookout. You'd have to promote Epel or Deuce next round.

"It's not as exciting like that!" You growled, using the key you'd stolen to unlock his room.

"I don't understand! It seems foolish!"

"I agree." Crowley was always a step ahead of you these days. It was infuriating.

"I am more than happy to just give you my hat," he said, plopping his hat on your head. "In fact, I love taking every opportunity to show your admirers that you are mine!"

Sebek raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

You pouted. "It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" He gave a booming laugh, pushing his hat over your eyes.

"How do I phrase this," you muttered, giggling as you pulled the hat back up. "You know how when you see something shiny, you can't resist the urge to take it?"

"And you feel like that about my stuff?"

"Sort of," you groaned in frustration, then perked back up, an idea in your head. "Okay, you know how when you see something cute, you just are filled with such joy that you want to squeeze it until it pops? Well, I see you, and I'm filled with so many emotions, and so much joy, that I just want to take your stuff and giggle!"

"That," Crowley breathed heavily, "is the sweetest thing I've ever heard!" He started sobbing, scooping you into his arms and holding you there, his hat falling to the ground.

"I shall, uh, take my leave," Sebek said with a cough as your boyfriend clung to you.

Present day…

"Twenty five minutes up," Crowley groaned. "Now be good, and give me my stuff back."

You pouted, but slowly removed the hat, mask, and cloak, handing them back with a growl.

He laughed lightly. "I know, dearest, but I need them for work. You'll have a chance to take them again tomorrow."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, then your nose, then a long kiss to your lips.

"I hope I get to see you today."

"Me too," you whispered. Crowley left with a grin.

When you were certain he was gone, you put on your new ring. Or more accurately.

His old ring.

[trashogram]

Kinktober! First time I’ve requested one but..I saw a post where you said Smarty/Smartass would have a knife kink so when you have time can you maybe make a short story with it! Thank you!! >v< ❤️

Kinktober Day Seven — Knifeplay

Warning: f!reader, masochism, cutting, blood, brief pronebone sex with a cartoon weasel

His pupils dilated, literal and wide until they’d expanded to almost cover his eyeballs. It was such a dramatic reaction that you were mesmerized, hardly noticing the next nick to your bare thigh.

It was unintentional this time, though the toon’s eyes lowered to watch blood rise through your skin.

You knew he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Smarty was just as fascinated by your human body as you were of him.

It’s what had led you both here — you, sat back against the thinnest pillows in existence on the most uncomfortable bed ever in a seedy motel and him, grazing your skin with a switchblade of real, bonafide steel.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, heartbeat erratic and breath staggered. You felt a rush of adrenaline from your head to your toes, akin to the first time, when you’d felt like you might float away if Smartass wasn’t dragging you by the wrist into a motel room.

It felt like a lifetime ago, an impression of a memory that was mostly feelings and still images. You’d been ‘innocent’ then, a perfectly average human doing perfectly average human things like dating men of flesh and blood and promising your dowdy mother that you’d settle down soon and give her some grandchildren. When the most scandalous thing you’d ever done was swim in a neighbor’s pool while they were gone and walk into a hole-in-the-wall bar that allowed humans and toon patrons.

Before some creep had made a pass at you, just to have his block knocked off by a sneering toon weasel.

The weasel snickered. “Ya like dat, huh doll?”

You grumbled weakly, squirming when he patted your leg condescendingly. Trying to pull away did nothing as his claws dug into your knee and practically immobilized you. It made you wonder, not for the first time, if all toons had such phenomenal strength or if this was specific to your toon.

“You’re such a …” You huffed, eyes rolling. “A…”

“Don’t waste time thinkin’ too hard dere.” Smartass continued to tease. “Wouldn’t want ya ta ‘computz’ on me.”

He let you go, only to slide his hand up your thigh to where his knife had cut you. You froze, sucking in a breath at the sting of his fingers rubbing the little wound. It was so small, barely a quarter of an inch, but it was one of a litter of little slashes along your thighs.

Looking at them as Smartass inspected another stoked the little fire that had been burning in your belly. You felt a flutter of your core at the contrast of your skin and the toon’s hand, sliding higher.

You stopped breathing when his nails gently tapped at the soft mound above all his little love lacerations.

“Flip over.”

The sudden command drew a feeble sigh from you, though you instantly obeyed. You winced at the friction between the over-starched sheets and your wounded thighs, but opened your legs wider when Smarty bade you to wordlessly.

A shriek flew out of your mouth, muffled by the pillows, at the sudden swat to your ass. And a nasal guffaw followed, accompanied by the flat of his switchblade smoothed over where the toon had struck.

“Relax, Cookie.” He snarked. “M’just havin’ a lil fun wit’ ya.”

You turned your head. “I thought we were ‘on the clock’. Or is that suddenly not the case any-MOOO-RE—ohhh…”

Your muscles clenched, body tight and coiled as you were entered from behind unexpectedly. Your inner walls offered little to no resistance, instead welcoming the solid, warm, very much alive and throbbing cock inside. You wailed into the bed as you were shoved into the mattress by the small of your back. Smartass snarled on top of you, drool already dripping down from his maw to slide down your spine.

[sluttyten]

UNHOLY - Chapter Seven

full masterlist || UNHOLY chapter index

genre: supernatural au

characters: fem reader, yuta, ten, winwin, mark, others mentioned

tags: polyamory, smut, knotting, mentions of breeding, threesome, double penetration, angst

length: 18,094

<-previous || next–>

There aren’t truly seasons here in this place, you realize as time goes on. Days flicker by like nothing; time doesn’t truly pass here. The immutable twilight hour hangs forever over this city. But you do begin to notice the way the weather changes, shifting to a minor degree, growing cooler as you dive into the time that would be the true start of winter if you were at home. 

Both Yuta and Ten are more than happy to spend those cool days in bed with you or wandering the city and treating you to warm drinks and hot meals. 

The noticeable shift in the weather does make you long for late autumn and early winter at home. Those early mornings when the world would be covered in frost, each blade of grass shimmering in the rising sunlight, your breath clouding in front of your face as you walked to work. You miss the first good, solid freeze of the year when the ponds would freeze completely and packs of kids would gather around the ponds to skate on their smooth surfaces. 

You find yourself missing Christmas music and decorations, the excitement of the season, the snowfall and celebration of it all. 

Yuta wrinkles his nose a little when you mention it to him one day. 

You’re sitting out on your small balcony together. You’re drinking a hot tea, cupping the mug in your hands and using just a little bit of your flame to keep it from cooling down in the sharp, bitter wind that licks against your balcony. Yuta sits behind you, limbs wrapped around you, his chin tucked over your shoulder. 

“What is there to celebrate about winter?” He asks. “It’s cold, dark, everything dies. Why would humans want to celebrate?”

“It’s a religion thing, mostly.” You sigh, the steam coming off the top of your mug blows out towards the city. Beneath you, it doesn’t look like winter, and you sink into memories of proper winter. “It’s so lovely this time of year back at home. All the snow and the Christmas lights, the smell of pine trees and peppermint. All the stores are packed this time of year, and toy stores go a little overboard, to an almost fantastic degree. I remember when I was a kid, there was one year the big toy store in town had a gorgeous dollhouse on display that I wanted more than anything else, and any time I misbehaved even slightly my dad would threaten to tell Santa.”

“Santa?” Yuta asks, lowering his mouth to your shoulder, skin so warm where his cheek touches your neck. “Who is that?”

“A magical myth. He watches all the children of the world,” you explain, “And he brings presents to the good kids and punishes the bad.” 

Yuta makes a strange noise, lifting his head again. “So parents tell kids that there are men watching over you? Policing your behavior?”

“Just the one man. Well, Santa has his little elf helpers as well as mall Santas and parents to spy on kids. But it’s all fake. He’s not real, and he’s probably an allegory for God or something. Parents, family, kind-hearted neighbors are really the ones the presents come from.” 

Still, when you twist away from Yuta to look at him over your shoulder, his eyebrows are furrowed a little. 

“What?” You laugh, lifting a hand to smooth the lines between his eyebrows. Yuta just shakes his head and takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “Are you trying to figure out if you’d be on the naughty or nice list?”

At that, Yuta cracks a smile. “Well that depends, my love. Which list would land me with you as my gift?”

You shriek with laughter as Yuta leans in to attack your throat with kisses, wrapping his arms around your waist to draw your back against his chest again. 

Your hand drops to the side, your mug of warm tea falling and cracking, spilling across the balcony floor, completely forgotten as Yuta peels the edges of your fluffy robe away, unwrapping you like his present. He takes his time in kissing your shoulders and your back as every new inch of skin is exposed. The robe slips from your shoulders and down your arms, the chill of the breezy day is irrelevant when all you can feel is Yuta’s lips and his hands as he spreads your legs to brush his fingers between your thighs, all gentle and teasing. 

A shiver runs down your spine that has nothing to do with the chill but rather with the way that Yuta’s tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear, the way his teeth graze your ear lobe. And then there’s his voice as he sinks his touch into your heated core. “I think you’ve landed on the naughty list, if we’re being honest,” Yuta says, his voice low, and he continues, “For numerous reasons. Letting me do this right now. For being here in this city. Mostly for the relationship you have with Ten and I, letting your base urges overwhelm you with lust.”

You can’t argue with that. All you can do is melt into his touch, moaning softly as he thumbs at your clit and slowly strokes two of his fingers inside you.

The robe pools around your waist and Yuta’s lap, leaving your chest fully bared to the hazy orange glow of Hell City. 

Never, in your old life, would you have done something like this. Out in the open where anyone in a building across from you could look up or down or directly over and see you like this. But Yuta and Ten have both brought out the side of you that never would have seen the light of day in your old life.

Because never once, when you were still a good Church-going girl, had you ever sat on a balcony getting fingered to orgasm by your partner. Never had you felt the cool lick of wind on your skin while feeling the hot press of a mouth to your throat, fingers sticky with your cum sliding over your belly and up to your tits. Never had you slid off your partner’s lap and knelt naked on the floor of a balcony between his spread legs while he looked down at you in a way that could be described as nothing less than devilishly handsome.

Yuta’s fingers, still damp with your wetness, nudge beneath your chin. His thumb drags at your bottom lip. “Gonna suck me off, pretty girl?”

You don’t nod or answer in any way other than to reach for the zip of Yuta’s pants. He only smiles, eyes burning with satisfaction as you pull his cock out into the daylight. Yuta relaxes back into the chair, watching you as you start working your hand over his length. You know he’s watching, but you’re not looking at his face; you’re too busy focusing on how quickly his cock is filling out in your hand, how the pink tip is already weeping a shiny droplet. And when you can’t take it any longer, you finally lean in and place a kiss to the tip, swiping your tongue along the slit of his cock.

Yuta hums, pleased, his fingers knotting through your hair as you part your lips and take him in. 

Losing yourself in the taste of Yuta is always easy. The way that he curls his hands in your hair, the sounds he makes low in his throat, the eager way that Yuta can’t quite keep still and succumbs to the urge to buck his hips off the seat to drive deeper into your throat.  You like the way his hips twitch when you kiss down the length of his cock and suck a mark on his inner thigh, or when his hands tug a little too hard at your hair because you’ve just swallowed his cock all the way to the base. 

“Oh, my love,” Yuta groans. He traces a thumb around your lips where they’re stretched around his cock. “You’re so pretty like this, just a sweet girl sucking me off. Gonna make me cum too soon, if you’re not careful, and then what satisfaction will you get from all this, hmm?”

You don’t want that. Not right now. Where’s the fun in just letting Yuta cum? You want to feel him inside you, out here in the open on the balcony. 

As you pull yourself up and clamber into his lap, Yuta snickers, his nose crinkling up and he wraps his arms around you. 

“Needy baby,” he teases.

“You’re needy,” you retort, but your hands are already stroking his cock, you’re already adjusting yourself into his lap to make it easier for you to just sit right on his cock. You slowly sink down, and Yuta’s head rolls back, a lazy grin spreading on his lips as he feels you wet and soft around him. His hands settle on your hips, urging you to move. You press your fingertips against his chest. “See? Needy. Needy for my pussy, Yuta?”

He laughs. “Always.”

Yuta lets you be on top a lot of the time when you’re with him. You think he must just like seeing you at this angle, or maybe it’s that he likes how blissed out you get on taking it at your own pace. Or it could very well be that he just likes how your tits move or feel pressed against his chest when you ride him. Either way, he drags your mouth to his now, content to let you ride him at your own pace.

You’re desperate enough for it that you're moving pretty quickly, bouncing in his lap with your nails clawing at Yuta’s shoulders. His hands slide from your hips up your sides, one rests against your belly, applying a little pressure, and his thumb extends down to leave light, teasing circles on your clit. 

“Fuck,” Yuta moans against your lips. “You’re lucky that demon seed takes hold so rarely, with how much Ten and I fuck you, your belly should be swollen by now.” His hand presses a little more intently on your belly. 

An unintentional whimper falls from your lips at the thought. It’s like the night you first met WinWin, and Yuta had mentioned werewolves almost always knocking up their partners. In the moment, you’d found that a turn on even though pregnancy was absolutely not something you were necessarily planning on experiencing any time soon. And again, now, as Yuta mentions you with a swollen belly, carrying a demon brood in your womb, you find your pulse quickening, and a new wave of arousal takes over. 

“You like that?” Yuta pulls back, and his hand that isn’t against your belly drifts to your chest just long enough to tweak a nipple before his hand is curling at the base of your throat. Loosely at first, but when you slowly open your eyes to meet his gaze, Yuta’s grip squeezes slightly. Another curl of lust in the ever-tightening knot of your arousal. Your heart pounds. 

This shouldn’t be something you like this much. But you can’t deny that as Yuta begins to lightly choke you and rub circles on your clit while he talks to you about how fucking pretty you’d look with your belly swollen from he and Ten, you start to fuck yourself on his cock a little more desperately. Just the idea of it is so incredibly hot to you for some inexplicable reason. 

His hand curls a little tighter and you lean into it, your hips moving in circles and rocking forward against the sweet friction of Yuta’s thumb on your clit. 

“You’re definitely on the naughty list,” Yuta says, pulling your face closer to his by his grip on your neck. His lips meet your ear, voice jaunty as he says, “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cum for me and maybe I’ll just lean you back against that railing there, lift you up so I can clean you up. Or maybe I should let you ride my face,” Yuta says, his hand leaving your throat to snap against your ass. “Bet you’d fucking love that wouldn’t you? Getting to ride my face while I eat you out, licking up all that cum I put in you?” 

You moan, your eyes rolling back as you feel your orgasm so close, nearly within reach. 

“Next time I share you with Ten,” Yuta says, “I’m gonna sit you on my face and not let you up until you’ve made Ten cum across your perfect lips while you ride my tongue, how’s that sound?”

All you can do is moan and fight the urge to immediately burst into flame.

You’re so fucking close. Your belly is tight, your hips slipping out of rhythm. Your orgasm is just there, right there with your flames itching just barely contained beneath your skin. 

“Hello?” A voice suddenly breaks through the pleasure, the sound carrying out through the open doorway of the balcony. 

“Shit!” You moan, immediately trying to push yourself free of Yuta’s lap, but he’s holding tight. 

You’re only capable of bending down and dragging your robe up from the ground, only just able to pull it back up over you. You manage to cover yourself up just in time to hear footsteps approaching the balcony door.

 Yuta laughs, pressing his lips to your shoulder, but still not letting you up. 

WinWin appears, peering out the open balcony door, looking first out at the view, and then he spots you sitting to the left of the door. You thank… someone out there (God, maybe?) that the curtains were still mostly drawn over the window, so WinWin hadn’t been able to see the two of you until just now. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, offering up a loose, easy grin.

You’re brutally aware of Yuta’s cock inside you. The way you’re sitting isn’t exactly super obvious as to say you’re doing, and especially with the robe covering you up, there’s no way that WinWin can tell. But when you notice his nostrils flare and his gaze narrows slightly, you almost wonder if he somehow does know. 

Your pussy pulses anew with that thought. 

You drop your head forward against Yuta’s shoulder on the side away from WinWin. The werewolf can’t see the way that you bite down on Yuta's shoulder. As you pray that if he notices the way that you rock your hips, he doesn’t think too much of it. 

“Uh, didn’t we have plans today?” WinWin asks. 

Shit, that’s right. You forgot you and WinWin were going to a shop a witchy friend of his had mentioned when you were introduced. 

You sit up, biting your lip now as you look over at WinWin. “I forgot,” you gasp, and you wonder if you look at all feverish, if the heat in your belly is showing outwardly. The struggle to not openly rock yourself on Yuta’s cock is serious right then. You don’t care that WinWin is looking right at you. You don’t care, not really, but at the same time the thought turns you on more than ever. 

WinWin blinks at you, glancing briefly at Yuta. “If you forgot, we can reschedule. Or I could, uh, come back later.”

“No, don’t go!” You involuntarily (to some degree) slip up and roll your hips. Yuta, unhelpfully, still has his thumb on your clit, like a little happy button that makes your insides go a little too fuzzy and your mind all melty.

Yuta’s eyes flash curiously, watching you closely. As if he expects to see you cum for him right then, but you manage to get yourself under control again. Without looking away from you, Yuta addresses the werewolf in the room, “Yeah, stay, WinWin. We’ll be there in a second.”

You know that you’ve got a careful hold on your flames, but still, you feel like you’re burning up right now. As soon as WinWin walks back inside, closing the balcony door hard enough that the whole wall of windows rattles, you move to quickly climb off of Yuta’s lap, but his hands on your hips beneath the robe hold a little tighter, keeping you right where you are, still seated on his cock.

Yuta cocks his head to the side a little. There’s something animalistic in his gaze. “Was it being caught that you liked?” He pinches your clit between his fingers. “Or the one that caught us?”

Not that you have the ability to answer in that second. 

Your world explodes in a fantastic burst of colors. A supernova of feelings and fire that flickers around you and off your skin. Your orgasm sears through you, and Yuta urges it on with that finger on your clit and his arm suddenly tight around your waist that he uses to keep you moving on his cock. 

You’re still mid-orgasm when Yuta follows. He drags your mouth to his, kissing you passionately through the intense throes of ecstasy. 

You long to bask in the afterglow — almost literally, your flames take a little bit to die down — but you know WinWin is waiting. Still. You allow yourself a moment, getting your flames back under control, and you tuck your face into the warm curve between Yuta’s neck and shoulder. 

“So,” Yuta says quietly. “It was the fact that WinWin caught us, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumble, refusing to lift your face from the crook of his neck. 

“I think we definitely should.” Yuta combs his fingers through your hair. “After what just happened, and after how into that roleplay we did—“

You lift your head to glare at him. “We don’t talk about that.”

“No, but maybe we should.” 

He could be right. But right now? When the man in question is waiting for you inside the apartment, only a few feet away. 

“Later,” Yuta says, and he dips in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not right now, my love, but later.”

You nod. Later you can talk about it, but for now you have to do a miniature walk of shame through your apartment to the bathroom.

Days later find you gathered in the apartment with your two demons and the other two members of your group. The orange haze of Hell City’s sky has taken on a gray, somewhat faded quality today in addition to the growing chill in the air. But inside the apartment, you’ve manifested a warm, festive atmosphere.

Christmas in Hell City.

Yuta begrudgingly helps you hang Christmas lights around the apartment. Ten delights in helping you hang ornaments on a Christmas tree. Both of them had been surprised when you climbed out of bed earlier and began manifesting a whole variety of Christmas items, declaring that Mark and WinWin were coming over this evening and you were celebrating Christmas all together like a little family. You do your best to recreate the Christmassy festive atmosphere that you remember from childhood, complete with unmelting snow that you manifest to cover your balcony. 

“Snow?” Ten asks when he sees it appearing in fluffy white mounds outside the windows. “You’re manifesting snow right now?”

Yuta folds his arms across his chest, stepping down from the ladder he’d been on to hang the lights around the room. He steps up beside Ten to look out at the snow too. You wonder if this city ever sees weather like this. If there’s ever rain or snow or sleet or ice, incredibly windy days, or hot days of summer when the heat just sits as thick and humid. Judging by the way both of them are looking out at the snow, you think they probably don’t get to see much of the weather.

“For me, Christmas needs snow.” You go back to hanging ornaments on the tree. “And besides, when I was talking to Mark about Christmas, he told me he wants to build a snowman. We have to have snow for that.”

Mark had seemed excited to celebrate Christmas when you first brought it up to him the previous day. 

Recently, you’d been spending more time with him, trying to avoid both of the demons and the conversation that they clearly wanted to have that you absolutely did not want to have right now. At some point after WinWin walked out onto the balcony while you and Yuta were having sex, Yuta had talked to Ten, telling him about the way you’d reacted. You hadn’t taken part in that conversation, but it was very obvious to you that it had happened. You didn’t want to know how it had gone. 

You’d decided that even though WinWin had admitted his feelings to you, you were happy with your present situation. Two partners was already enough for you. On top of that, Ten was incredibly jealous, and Yuta was also known to display jealousies from time to time. So no matter how that conversation between them went, you didn’t care what the result was. Yes, you still found WinWin attractive, and, yes, there were still snippets of dreams featuring him. But you weren’t going to act on it, so it didn’t matter what they thought. Still, you didn’t want to have that talk. 

Mark had been plenty happy to accept your company. Hanging out with him meant that you were there for boring coven meetings, but also for more interesting things like hanging out with the other vampires in his coven or when you’d gone up to the brunch spot that Mark ran – Heaven’s Nest – and gotten drunk together. That’s when the invitation to Christmas had come spilling out, the idea born up there among the hazy clouds of Hell City between Bloody Sunrises and unbloody mimosas. 

“Maybe he should be here helping set up,” Yuta says, turning away from the snow. “Or he can clean up. When is he going to be here?” He eyes all the lights and other decorations you’ve put up over the last few hours. 

“And when is WinWin coming over?” Ten asks, his voice suddenly stilted, not looking at you. 

You hang the last ornament on the tree, and with a meager amount of concentration, you manifest fully wrapped presents beneath the tree for each of them. “Soon. They should both be here soon. I promised dinner, so we should probably start working on that too.” 

You’ve done your best to keep both of them preoccupied, too busy to even attempt to broach the subject of your obvious physical reaction to WinWin catching you with Yuta. But as you attempt to walk by Yuta to reach the kitchen, his hand shoots out, taking your arm. His touch is gentle, but still you stop and turn to look at him.

“Dinner can just be manifested. You don’t have to actually cook.” His gaze drops briefly to your lips, and you watch the way that Yuta’s throat bobs. “Then we can talk before they show up. All three of us need to talk.”

You pull away from Yuta. “I don’t think we really do need to talk.”

Ten sighs from somewhere behind you. “Don’t be difficult, darling.”

“Can’t you tell that I really don’t want to talk about whatever.” You hurry over to the kitchen, but both of the demons possess a speed that you don’t, and they both somehow beat you there. Ten wraps you in the cage of his arms, a cheeky smile appearing when you hiss a curse at him, but he only holds you tighter. “Let me go.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Ten’s fingers curl around your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back. “See, when I’ve got you like this, you’re not going anywhere. You have to listen to us talk.” Yuta stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Ten, and you hate the presented front of solidarity and determination to have this conversation.

Fate, it seems, is on your side.

There’s a knock on the door of the apartment, and a moment later, it opens to allow in Mark and WinWin together. Both the vampire and the werewolf stare unblinking at the position you’re in. Yuta steps away, but Ten doesn’t let go, he doesn’t look away from you. 

He holds your gaze, and in a low voice that borders on sexy and threatening, he says, “Either you can vow that we’ll talk later after they’re gone, or we can have this conversation right now with both of them listening. And I don’t think you want that, do you?”

You squirm. There’s no way out of this. “I promise we’ll talk later after they leave.”

Ten smiles and says, “Perfect.”

As soon as he loosens his arms from around you, Ten gently brings your arms around front, and he lifts your wrists to his lips. “Look, I’m sorry about that.” His lips are warm and tender on your wrists that still feel his fingers like shackles around them. “But I think it’s important, and you avoiding it isn’t going to make the need to talk go away.”

“I know.” Because, as much as you don’t want to talk, you know that it’s important. You need to make it clear to both of them that you don’t have any intention of allowing anything to happen with WinWin. You need to give them the chance to communicate to you what they think about it. 

You lean in, looping your arms over Ten’s shoulders, pecking him quickly on the lips. “Let’s get to Christmas.”

Mark and WinWin ignore the odd mood they walked into. 

Mark brought presents, and he adds those to the ones you’ve got beneath the tree already. WinWin didn’t realize presents were a thing to be brought to Christmas, which begins a conversation about how neither he nor the demons have any experience with Christmas. But you and Mark, who lived human lives in the human world before coming here, had that experience. 

You all sit around the table first, enjoying the quickly manifested dinner. After that is you and Mark getting everyone out onto the small balcony to make snowmen, which just turns into a snowball fight when Ten lobs a densely packed snowball right at WinWin’s face. 

For a brief moment you think you’re about to witness WinWin transform for the first time, based on the pure look of annoyance he sends Ten, but Ten is shooting daggers right back at him. 

Unfortunately for WinWin, he doesn’t know why Ten is glaring at him so harshly. You hope he doesn’t notice that throughout the rest of the Christmas celebration, Ten and Yuta both watch him closely, particularly any time that he’s looking at or talking with you. 

You think both Ten and Yuta are about to burst out of their skins or explode into flame when WinWin pulls you in for a hug after he opens the gift from you. But WinWin probably notices because he holds onto you a little bit longer than actually necessary, and after you pull away, he does wink at you and tell you he’ll give you a present another time. 

Mark is potentially oblivious to all of that going on, just happy to be celebrating and spending time with all four of you. He’s excited to have you all open presents from him, which he proudly declares, “I bought them myself. They’re not just, like, manifested. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! But open them!”

You play games together, you eat some more. Mark bursts out into Christmas carols after a while. You turn on Christmas movies to play in the background, and all five of you just sit around and talk for a long time until Mark suddenly remembers his obligation to get to one of his coven’s ventures underground. WinWin makes an excuse to leave too, though you suspect it's just that he doesn’t want to be alone with you, Yuta, and Ten.

But once he’s gone, now it’s your turn to face them.

You still really don’t want to talk about it.

For a little while at least, the subject remains avoided.

The three of you clean up the mess of dinner and of unwrapping presents and the last remnants of the unmelting snow that had been tracked inside. Then the curtains are drawn over the balcony to make it darker inside the room, left illuminated at this point only by the TV which is stuck playing the menu screen of an old Christmas movie DVD. Ten sits down on one end of the sofa, Yuta takes the other end, and after a moment of dithering, you settle down in between them.

Ten fidgets with the remote for a moment. Switching through the different options on the DVD menu, changing the language of the movie’s audio. He skips through the different scenes, finally settling on one a quarter of the way into the movie, selecting it to start playing from there. The only thing is that the volume is so quiet, you can barely hear it and he put it in a language that you don’t know.

Yuta clears his throat.

“So are we going to talk about it now?” 

Ten straightens up in his seat and turns sideways, drawing his feet onto the cushion and his knees up to his chest. “Yes. Let’s talk about how you want WinWin to fuck you.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, dropping your face into your hands. “I would like to point out that I haven’t said that.”

“But you haven’t not said it,” Ten argues back. 

“Do I have to tell you every person that I don’t want to fuck Ten?” You fold your arms across your chest to stare at him. “Because we’ll be here for a very, very long time if that’s the case.”

Ten rolls his eyes, and you look over at Yuta who just sighs. “Ten, you said you were going to be mature and open-minded about this conversation. Remember?” After a moment with no response, Yuta prods again, “Remember?”

“Yeah.” Ten grunts. “I remember.”

“My love,” Yuta says as he takes your hand. “How do you feel?”

You squirm, uncomfortable. Emotions aren’t really all that big of a subject of conversation between the three of you. Especially not with both of them only focusing on you and your answer. Yuta continues to hold your hand, and Ten stretches one of his feet over the few inches between you and him to just have the small point of contact where his toes curl against the side of your leg. 

“I’m not a cheater,” are the first words you manage after a few quiet moments. “I’m, like, attracted to him, but the same is true with Mark, if we’re being honest. WinWin, Mark, Hansol from back home.” Ten all but growls, and when you look at him his eyes are narrowed yellow cat eyes. You continue regardless, “There are a lot of people I think are attractive in this place; you’ve all got this supernatural beauty that makes you very attractive. But I don’t feel the same about any of them as I do with you two. So I don’t get why you’re so jealous about it, Ten, or why you think we need to talk about it so much, Yuta. I’m only doing this with you two, which already is a stretch from normal for me. But being with you two together has been this way from the start, sharing everything between you two. I’m not just going to bring someone else into this, especially not someone that you clearly don’t like, Ten.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” Trn quickly clarifies. “WinWin is nice. He’s good. But he’s been trying to fuck you since you first met him, and he’s a werewolf.”

“And you’re a demon! Get over your prejudices, dumb ass.” You push off the sofa, standing and turning to look at the two of them. Yuta watches you calmly, curious. Ten’s eyes are hot, his jaw clenched. “I don’t care that he’s a werewolf. I don’t care that you two are demons or that Mark’s a vampire or that anyone I’ve met here in Hell City is something that a few short months ago I never would have believed existed. I got over all of my deeply ingrained prejudices, so when will you?

“And, about how he’s wanted to fuck me from the start? I will admit to you that I’ve thought about him many times since the night I first met him. When I was back in my hometown, all I did was dream about the two of you, him, and even Mark.” You’ll admit that now, in the sake of full honesty. “I dreamed of having sex with all of you, and even when I was fucking Hansol —“ Now both of them bare their teeth in disgusted anger. “—Even then I thought of the four of you. I can’t help who I’m attracted to. I can’t help it that when he walked out there and caught me and Yuta together, I found it hot. But I’m not just going to go fuck WinWin behind your back, so stop being a jealous dick about it!” 

“Where are you going?” Ten calls from the sofa. 

“Out!” Shoes manifest right onto your feet, a jacket onto your shoulders. The apartment door slams shut behind you   

You’re at the lift, jamming your finger against the button when you hear the door open and close behind you. And then Yuta’s soft, careful voice. “Can I come with you?”

“No. I want to be alone.” You jab your finger against the button and hold it there, as if that’s going to make the rickety lift rise any faster. You can hear its rattles echoing up through the floors beneath you now. “Just let me be alone, Yuta. Please.”

“You know I don’t mind, right?” He says to fill the silence while he waits with you. “About WinWin? Like, the roleplay, which, I know, we don’t talk about, but let’s just pretend for a moment that we do talk about it.” You glance sidelong at him, and he cracks a grin. “I’m open to anything. I’ve shared you with Ten, I’ve fucked you while wearing the look of a different man. Pretty girl, you’re the best thing that’s happened to Ten and I in a long time. I’m not going to let something little like this mess that up. But Ten, he’s scared, not that he’ll let you see it. Scared that you’ll disappear, so he holds on tighter, scared to let you go for fear that you won’t come back.” 

As the lift finally comes rattling and shaking to a stop in front of you, you look over at Yuta. “Well, he can’t hold on too tightly. I’ll suffocate.”

Yuta nods. “I know.”

“Talk to him.” You say as you step inside and reach for the sliding gate. “I feel like he’ll listen to you if you just explain to him that I’m here for both of you. I came here with you and because of you, I stayed for you when WinWin made me want to leave, and the intensity of my feelings for just you and him are what scared me away. But I came back for him, for you. I only wanted you two, and I made him promise when we were waiting for you to come back and save the day that he wouldn’t leave me alone. Does he think I’ve said anything like that to WinWin or anyone else? I’m here for you two. I love you two.”

The words feel electric on your tongue. Your heart beats double time. You’ve never said that before. Those three words. Not to Ten, not to Yuta. And you can see from the slowly growing smile and the light in his eyes, that Yuta is surprised and excited to hear them from you. 

Before anything more can be said, the lift is moving, dropping you a lot faster than it had risen. But when you look up, you can see through the ceiling of this contraption Yuta leaning out into the shaft, watching you go. 

You love them. 

Both of them. 

Once you’re out in the street you’re not entirely sure where to go. You don’t want to go to the underground. You’re not feeling particularly social at the moment. You just needed to be away from all that going on up there. 

If you look up at your building, if you squint and look really hard, you think you can see which balcony is yours. You can see the fake snow piled on it, and even a few large icicles dripping over the edge of it. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or delusion, but you might even see Ten up there leaning against the railing to look down. 

You walk away. Not toward the city center, and not toward the entrance to the underground city. You wander wherever your feet take you. 

You haven’t wandered the streets of Hell City alone very often. Only on a few rare occasions, usually when you were meeting either of the demons or Mark or WinWin somewhere else. But right now, there’s no destination, there’s no one waiting for you anywhere except right back there in the apartment. 

You sigh. 

You love Ten. So much that it makes your heart ache. But he can be so… annoying, for lack of a better word. His jealousy when all you’ve done is shown him and Yuta affection and love. When you’ve opened yourself up with him and drawn a bond between you that you’ve never had with anyone else, not even Yuta, if you’re being honest. How can he not see it?

You hope Yuta’s talking to him, trying to help him see the light of reason. 

As you walk down the streets, passing storefronts and restaurants, passing clusters of supernatural creatures who choose to spend their time above ground rather than below, you just think. You barely register your surroundings, which leads to you nearly trampling over a young Nagi that slithers across your path. 

After a little while though you finally come to a quiet square in the northern part of the city. It reminds you of the section of your hometown that’s been around since the 1800s with narrow cobbled streets and gas lamps. The fog that has settled over this part of the city helps give it a timeless kind of vibe, muting even the usual orange out of the sky. A fountain sits in the middle of the square, crowned by a statue swathed in the dense fog. 

You wander toward the fountain, looking around at this quiet little pocket of the city. The buildings lining the square look old too, and light glows through their square windows. One door opens and shuts, letting out a beam of light that gets muddled through the fog. You sit on the edge of the fountain, and you just breathe, feeling a knot loosen in your chest. 

The fountain trickles and tinkles behind you, small ripples moving across the dark surface of the pool at its base. You trail your fingers across the surface, catching a glimpse of coins sparkling on the bottom. A wishing fountain. 

“I wish that we could all just get along,” you murmur. But you don’t have a coin on you to drop in, and you’ve never believed in wishing fountains anyway. Even now they don’t seem plausible. 

Footsteps echo across the foggy square, and you lift your head to look around. Someone carrying a lantern passes at the far end of the square, slipping back through the door someone had exited through earlier. 

You feel a sudden chill. 

This square is very quiet. The fog gives it an ominous feeling. And the fountain water, you suddenly realize, is bitterly cold and strange, freezing your fingertips and almost sucking at them, magnetically drawing you to sink the rest of your hand in. 

You stand, shaking your hand and then attempting to dry it on your coat. 

You no longer want to be by yourself. 

Pacing back through the streets, you hope you can find your way home. You’ve never been on these streets this far north by yourself before, and they’re winding and narrow, getting you all turned around, and the fog doesn’t help. It blocks the view of the tall buildings closer to downtown, making it even more difficult to navigate. 

And maybe it’s the fog, maybe it’s the way that you’ve never seen Hell City in such a dim, blurry way, but there’s a lurch of panic in your belly. A sense of urgency to get back home to your apartment. The oddest feeling like you’re being watched. 

The logical, unpanicked side of you tells you that it’s probably Yuta. He probably disregarded your request to leave you alone, and he’s probably been following you to keep an eye on you. Or you could just be imagining the feeling of eyes on you, the sense that there’s someone prowling through the fog behind you. 

You’re not running, but your heart is racing and you’re walking more quickly than normal. 

The winding streets finally spit you out onto a main street, wide and open, populated. There is still a gray fog hovering over the street, but you disregard it as you hurry along the sidewalk, brushing by a variety of Hell City’s citizens. There’s still the lingering feeling of being watched, and it grows more intense to the point where your breath is coming fast and your spine feels stiff, panic knotting your muscles and making your mind swirl as you look for the offshoring street that will lead you back to your apartment. 

In your semi-blind panic, you run headlong into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, turning quickly to look behind you. 

There are plenty of people milling along the sidewalk. None look particularly like they’re watching or following you. No one looks suspicious at all really. 

“Are you okay?” 

There’s a hand on your shoulder, a familiar voice ringing in your ears. 

WinWin. 

You twist around to face him. 

“Where were you running to?” WinWin asks, glancing behind you too. “Or what were you running away from? Are you hurt?”

There’s a damp spot on the front of his shirt, and when WinWin lifts his hand from your shoulder to your cheek, you realize you’ve been crying. 

You take a step back, wiping at your cheeks. 

“Where are Ten and Yuta?” WinWin asks, and he reaches again for you, but he draws his hand back when you lean away. “Did something happen?”

“We argued a little bit after you and Mark left. I wanted to get out of the apartment, so I was wandering around. I just… got a little lost and freaked myself out a bit.” You suck in a deep breath, trying to steady the shaky beating of your heart. “Thought someone was following me.”

WinWin’s eyes narrow, nostrils flaring, and he lifts his gaze from your face to scan the city street behind you. “I can walk you home. Would that be okay?” 

You want to say yes and you want to say no. Yes, it would make you feel better. No, because imagine if after fighting with Ten about WinWin, you show back up at the apartment accompanied or at least smelling like WinWin. That will solve nothing. Plus, a slightly paranoid voice in the back of your mind whispers how strange it is that you bumped into WinWin like this, that he appeared right as you felt the intensity of being watched was at its highest. Maybe it’s nothing. Probably it’s nothing, just a coincidence, but you shouldn’t be around him right now anyway. 

“No.” You shake your head, taking a wide step around WinWin. “I know the way from here.”

He sighs, a little defeated, then says, “Plus, Ten would be jealous, right?” 

You freeze. 

“I’m not blind. I know he’s jealous. I saw the way he was with me all day. Yuta’s only slightly better. Did you tell them how I feel about you?” He asks, and he keeps that distance of a couple feet between you, which you’re grateful for. “Is that why I suddenly feel like I’m getting the cold shoulder? I’m not, like, gonna make a move on you, if that’s what you or they are worried about. I respect them. I respect you. I’m not just a fucking dog.” He runs a hand down the side of his face, then looks around the street. “I know you’re with them, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your relationship or your happiness with them.”

“I’ll make sure they know that,” you say softly. “I’ll see you around, WinWin. But I’d better get home.”

“Be safe.”

Five minutes later, you’re riding the lift up through your building. The lingering feeling of being watched had continued up until you reached your building, and you settle on the idea that it’s a combination of paranoia brought on by the fog and of WinWin probably kindly trailing you to make sure you made it home safely. 

Yuta and Ten are still sitting on the sofa, facing each other and speaking in low voices when you step inside. They break off as you walk over, and Ten makes a small sound of surprise when you just clamber into his lap, and wrap your arms around him. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, tucking your face against his shoulder. 

Ten holds you just as tightly, pressing his nose into your hair. “I’m sorry, darling. I am a jealous ass, and I’m going to do my best to let it go. I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust, but, Yuta and I have talked about a lot while you were gone. I’m working on it.”

You can accept that. 

“Aw,” Yuta coos, getting up on his knees to come closer and wrap both of you in a hug, his chin resting atop Ten’s head as he says, “Look at all of us getting along.”

The cool bite beginning to take up residence in the air outside grows over the next week or so. It feels more like the memory of cold than the actual feeling of it, but it’s undeniable. Like winter is truly setting in. 

The thaw between Ten and WinWin has however begun to take effect. 

More and more over the last week, your little family has been spending time together in your apartment. This has given Ten and WinWin plenty of time to warm up to each other, and although it’s only been a few days, you would definitely say that they appear more friendly now than they have in weeks. It could be the semi-forced proximity, but you choose to think that it’s actual progress. 

The unnatural cold of Hell City has driven many of the citizens underground, increasing Mark’s profits for his various businesses, including a hot spring where he’d met up with you, Yuta, and Ten yesterday. But today he’s shirking his responsibilities as coven leader and mogul of Hell City, and he (along with WinWin) are here in your apartment to relax. 

“I’m cold.” You complain as you wrap yourself in a blanket and settle onto your sofa. “It’s a good thing, you guys run so warm.”

Ten opens his arms for you to snuggle into, letting you sink in and make yourself comfortable against his chest. Ten, in turn, wraps himself around you, blanketing you in his heat. He waits until you’re settled, and then says, “Maybe if you were wearing more clothes, you wouldn’t be so cold.”

You’re dressed comfortably. Maybe it’s not entirely appropriate wear for when you have guests over, but an oversized shirt and your panties and some fuzzy socks are just what you’d put on when you emerged from a nice, steamy shower earlier. It’s not your fault that guests showed up afterwards. 

Ten’s hand dips beneath your blanket to run his hand up your bare thigh. 

Mark watches from the other end of the sofa, his gaze torn away from the game he, Yuta, and WinWin had been playing. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, and before you can get a good read on it (or make an attempt to read his thoughts, because as it turns out, that is a demon trick you’ve been receiving lessons on for the week), Mark clears his throat. 

“I wish I ran warm.” His gaze darts over the points of contact Ten has with you. “Being undead really fucking sucks sometimes.”

WinWin makes a sound of disagreement from where he’s stretched out on his belly on the floor, his chin resting on his hands. “I run way too hot sometimes. Like, right now, I’m burning up.” 

He is. You can see from here the way his hairline has dampened to his skin. He’s sweating. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, sitting up a little bit, though Ten keeps his arms locked around your hips. “Not sick, right?”

“Wolves don’t get sick,” Yuta explains, studying the game in front of him. 

WinWin shakes his head. “I’m fine. I, just, uh, think my rut is coming up.” His face colors slightly, and he looks down at the floor, refusing to look up when the others start teasing him. 

You retreat to your spot leaning against Ten’s chest. 

His rut? You read about it in the supernatural encyclopedia. Much like actual wolves and other wildlife, werewolves experience heats and ruts—the overwhelming urge to breed or be bred. For WinWin, as a male, his will be the urge to breed, endlessly horny for anywhere from hours to days, needing to cum as many times as possible. 

You don’t even realize how deep into your thoughts about it you’ve sunk until Ten brushes a finger over your cheek. 

“Well, you’re certainly warm now, darling.” Ten teases, “What are you thinking about?”

You can’t tell him you’re thinking about WinWin, picturing him looking the same as Yuta-as-WinWin had looked when he orgasmed during your shape-shifting roleplay. As far as you’re aware, Ten still doesn’t know about that. Yuta has kept it just a secret between you and him. You can’t admit aloud to the room that that was a roleplay you and Yuta engaged in, and especially you won’t tell them that you’re growing aroused right now just thinking of it. 

It’s like the night you met WinWin, the night Yuta claimed wolves only want to breed and knock up women with a whole litter of wolf pups. It had turned you on a little back then, it had turned you on the other day when Yuta mentioned it while you were riding him, but now the thought of it is working you up even more. Your imagination is moving into hyperdrive, steering you right into the depths of a fantasy involving WinWin fucking you six ways from Sunday, in every possible position and configuration until you’re both exhausted and his rut has ended.

But you definitely don’t say any of that. 

“Nothing.” You brush Ten’s hand away, and you sit up. “I’m just getting warm, that's all.”

You move away from Ten, kicking off your blanket, and avoiding looking down at WinWin. But as the blanket falls to the floor beside WinWin’s head, as you drop your feet to the floor as well, WinWin’s head shoots up from where he’s been resting. 

He looks right at you. He cocks his head to the side. 

Everyone notices at once that WinWin’s eyes are changing fast from his human-brown to the wolf-yellow. 

“Fuck,” WinWin growls, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head back to his hands. You watch as he bites at the back of his hand for a moment before he’s pushing up to his knees, struggling to his feet. “I need to leave.”

When he gets to his feet, when you see the prominent bulge of his erection in the front of his pants, you feel another surge of arousal. 

“What? Now?” Ten teases. “Dude, I thought you just said your rut was soon, not like right now. How’re you gonna come over here knowing that you’re about to need to lock yourself away, horny doggy?”

WinWin growls, the sound a genuinely animalistic sound. “It triggered early. It’s not my fault.”

“Triggered early?” Ten continues to tease. “How does that happen?”

WinWin prowls forward until he’s standing right in front of you and Ten. “It happens because your girlfriend is turned on right now, and I can smell her like she’s the wettest, most breedable bitch in a ten mile radius.”

You squeeze your legs together and try not to whimper. This. This is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid. 

On the floor, Yuta leans back on his hands, looking up at the drama, an amused look on his face. 

“Horny, baby girl?” Yuta calls. “Thinking about WinWin? About how good he could knot you and breed you? I know you’re into that.”

Your face feels hot, being called out like that. You glance at Ten to see him watching you, looking curious. You bite your lip, unable to deny Yuta’s accusatory question because you’re actually dripping wet right now. It’s come over you so quickly, getting worse the longer WinWin stands here right in front of you. 

“Ten?” Your voice is a whimper, and you can’t help it. 

“Yes, darling?”

You search his face for any of those tell-tale signs of his jealousy. You’re relieved to find, miraculously, none. 

And then WinWin touches his fingers beneath your chin, tipping your head so he can see your face. 

“Are you actually into that? Being knotted and bred?” WinWin teases you. 

Mark scrambles from his spot on the end of the sofa. “I’m gonna go ahead and leave, whatever’s happening here.”

“What, you don’t want to stay and watch? His wolf rut pheromones are gonna put all of us in the mood!” Ten jokes as Mark all but flies from the apartment, calling out his goodbyes over his shoulder. As the apartment door slams shut behind Mark’s fleeing back, Ten laughs. “He really needs to get laid; it’s not good to keep it all pent up like this.” 

WinWin’s still holding your chin, his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip. “I’m sorry. If I’d known it was going to trigger, I wouldn’t have come over. Ten’s right. My pheromones are what’s probably hitting you so hard right now.” 

Is it? You had aroused yourself with the fantasies that came to mind as soon as his rut was mentioned. But you have to admit that the way your body is reacting right now, how hot and wet you suddenly feel, that is out of the ordinary. Could it be that WinWin is putting off some wolfy rut scent that is affecting you? 

“I can still leave. I’ll hurry home and just get myself off until my rut ends.” But all you hear is the unspoken question: “Do you want me?” 

You can’t see either Ten or Yuta right now. All of your focus is on WinWin, the intoxicating heat of his skin against yours, the slick feeling growing between your legs. But Ten reaches over, touching your hand. 

“Do you want to help WinWin through his rut?” Ten asks, and he’s taking a softer tone with you, no longer joking about this whole situation.  

Is he actually asking, like offering it as an actual option to you? Because there’s no question in your mind right now that it’s what you want. Helping WinWin through his rut seems like the only thing you can possibly do right now in this sudden lust-drunk state you’re sinking into. 

You nod. “I really, really do. Please don’t be angry, Ten.” 

You feel guilty even saying it aloud. After all the progress of the last week, after the fight just before that, all of you and Yuta’s reassurances. And this is happening so quickly too. Just minutes ago everything was perfectly normal. Now the careful walls of restraint you’ve built are crumbling. 

You search Ten’s eyes again for any sign of anger. 

“He’s not angry, my love,” Yuta speaks up from his spot on the floor. “We discussed it. He’s just not used to sharing, but we can get used to it. Play nice with our friends and you. If he can share you with me, he can share you with WinWin, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want it,” you all but moan. 

You feel Ten pull himself off the sofa. “We’ll leave you to it, darling.”

“Are you sure about this?” WinWin asks. You’re not sure if he’s asking you or Ten. He flicks his gaze quickly towards Ten, back towards Yuta, and then he’s looking right at you again. 

He’s still got you by the chin, and you’re enchanted by the light in his eyes, prisoner to the hunger he’s awakened in you. “I want it, WinWin.” 

He nods and swallows, and you can see the way he’s controlling himself, holding back. His nose flares as he breathes you in again, tipping his face down towards you, losing his control bit by bit as more of your scent invades his senses. 

You can feel Yuta and Ten watching, but the hunger inside you reaches out for WinWin, pushing away all thoughts of anything but consuming him. 

At the same moment as you lurch forward, WinWin makes his final move. 

WinWin’s kiss is absolutely intoxicating, overwhelming, all-encompassing. The heat of his skin against yours, the unidentifiable scent radiating from him that just makes you want to pull him in closer and closer. 

So that’s what you do. 

The moment that his tongue touches yours, you feel a new heat pouring through you, and you need him now.

It’s all-consuming, deeper than just hunger or lust. This is an innate need that pulls you into WinWin, that draws his hands down to your bare thighs, pressing up beneath your shirt to your panties. It’s like he simply shreds them away; fingers catch at the sides of your panties and then the fabric falls away, exposing your pussy to the cool air. 

“Uh, yeah, we’re leaving,” Ten says. “If you need anything, just shout!”

The part of you that isn’t totally drowning in wolf rut (or this strange heat that’s come over you even though you’re not a werewolf), wants to ask Ten to stay. Yo I want to cling to him and let him feel involved in this so he doesn’t return to his all-consuming jealousy knowing that you’re doing exactly what you’d just told him you wouldn’t last week. 

But you can’t help it. Right now, the hunger you feel for WinWin is unchecked, running rampant through you as you cling to him and kiss him deeper. 

“We’ll check in on you later, my love,” Yuta sounds intensely amused as you and WinWin draw each other closer, as he climbs over you on the sofa and hikes your legs around his hips. “You need to stay hydrated, don’t forget that!”

They keep talking, you think, but you’re not even listening because at that moment, WinWin reaches down and unfastens the front of his pants. You feel the heat and the presence of his cock as soon as he releases it from his pants. You haven’t broken away from kissing WinWin yet, so you can’t see his cock, but you have a feeling that the version of it that Yuta wore when you roleplayed with him wasn’t quite a life-size representation.

WinWin feels big. Girthy, heavy, long. And when he pulls back from you, you finally get a glimpse of his dick.

“Oh my God,” you giggle. Hands over your mouth, full-on let out a little giggle. 

WinWin growls a little, his hands on your legs, pushing them up, folding your body in half until your knees are up at your shoulders. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head. “Not funny. Your dick is just really big.”

The kind of big that makes you feel like it should be impossible for your body to take it, but not quite as impossible as Yuta’s version. But your body also feels ready for him. Wet enough, loose enough, like just the pheromones he’s putting off have done enough to prepare you for him. You don’t know how to explain the feeling going on inside you right now, like something’s been triggered in you in response to him.

Another giggle forces its way out. 

To put it mildly, WinWin’s cock looks to be the width of your forearm. Wide enough around that your thumb and middle finger would only just barely miss touching each other if you tried to circle your hand around him. Long enough that you’re halfway expecting him to be hitting your cervix with each thrust. But he’s wet at the tip, a few prominent veins pulse along his length, and despite the rational part of your brain telling you that his cock is too fucking big, you want him inside you this moment.

There’s no holding back. 

You don’t want him to hold back, the way that your body craves right now nothing more than WinWin fucking you as fast and deep and hard as possible, cumming inside you like you’re his own personal cumdump. 

And you can tell that the last vestiges of WinWin’s control are slipping away, the animalistic urges taking over. His fingernails bite at your thighs, and he moves back over you, sinking his thick cock smoothly into your ready pussy.

There’s no intimacy or passion to this. It’s nothing more than hungry fucking, taking cock and feeling like he’s fucking the very breath from your lungs. You can’t catch your breath to moan. You can feel him in your belly. It’s all just a blur of lust and hungrily getting fucked, sucking in the pleasure as WinWin fucks you to cum.

He fucks you there on your back on the sofa, cumming inside you while you’re still folded up like a pretzel beneath him. He doesn’t pull out, but immediately picks up fucking you again, pulling you on top of him as he leans back. This time he pulls an orgasm from you, and he cums again before turning you around, bending you against the back of the sofa, fucking you so intensely still that you’re sweating–your bodies still together with the sweat and the stickiness of his semen leaking down your thighs. 

When you begin to slide over the back of the sofa from the force of his thrusts, WinWin holds tightly to your hips, repositioning you facedown on the sofa, holding your hips up at the perfect angle for him to thrust into. Again, he cums, stuffing you so full, and still you crave more from him.

WinWin pants and moans against your shoulder, shallowly thrusting, rivulets of his cum leak down your thighs onto the sofa. 

“Fuck,” WinWin groans, his teeth grazing your shoulder. He’s still pressing into you, still hard and feeding into your own endless lust. “I’m sorry, I’m still….”

You roll your hips back, silently hoping he’ll stay inside you, that he’ll plant himself so deep inside you that you won’t feel empty for a week. And you know what he needs too, what he’s not asking you for, what he keeps denying himself. 

“Just knot me,” you cry out, “You’re just letting it all leak out, WinWin.”

He pauses then, as if caught off guard by your request. He actually pulls back out of you, and you cry, trying to lift your hips and clench your pussy tight enough to hold his cum inside you. As WinWin sits back, his cock still heavy and standing tall, he stares at you. “I can’t knot you.”

But as you look back at him, you can see that he absolutely can knot you. He just doesn’t want to. 

You can see his knot swelling toward the base of his cock. This was what you’d read about in that book, learning about knotting right there alongside learning about werewolf ruts and heats. There’d been a diagram. And now you see it in front of your eyes: the swelling shape toward the base of his cock that would plug you up nicely and keep his cum inside you. 

WinWin shakes his head. “I can’t do it. You’re human, you’re not a werewolf. You’re not made to take knots, princess.”

“But I’m not just human either!” You whine, again shifting around trying to keep your hips elevated to keep his multiple loads of cum from leaking out of you, which leads to you looking back at him from under your arm. A very odd angle. 

“You’re basically human,” WinWin argues, his hand drifting down to massage his knot. “Yuta and Ten would probably actually kill me if I hurt you in any way, and I’m afraid that knotting you would just split you open.”

That’s a violent image, but you quickly brush it away. “I burst into flames when I have sex with them, I don’t think that’s something humans do. I can take it, WinWin. I know I can. I want it. You’ve got me all horny and feeling breedable, so I need you to knot me and stop wasting all this cum. Isn’t the whole point of your rut to cum in me, to breed me and knot me as many times as possible? I’m pretty sure I read that if you don’t knot a partner, your rut can—“

“Alright, shit, if I knot you will you stop talking?” WinWin moves quickly, suddenly fitting his cock back inside you. “God, dammit, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. I promise.” 

You’ve been practicing your shapeshifting with Yuta. You’ve altered your appearance some, but as it turns out, the whole thing about perfectly mimicking others isn’t something that’s within your wheelhouse. But you’ve successfully made small adjustments to your appearance. Just a day or two ago you were messing around with shape-shifting while Ten and Yuta briefly had to go take care of some demon business, and when they returned they discovered you’d turned your nose into a miniature version of an elephant trunk, and you couldn’t turn it back without their help. 

You have an idea that maybe if your body can’t really take WinWin’s knot you can just alter your shape enough to make it a little more comfortable, making it so you don’t cause any damage to your person. 

“Take me to the bed,” you moan as WinWin pushes in deeper, his hands firmly at your hips.you feel the swell of his knot against you, and your belly leaps at the thought of him forcing it into you. “If you’re gonna knot me, do it there at least.”

“You’re bossy,” he teases, but he pulls away again, lifting you into his arms, and you happily let him manhandle you. WinWin tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and he breathes in, inhaling your scent. “Smell so good, sweet.” 

His cock rubs against you with each step he takes, and no sooner has he dropped you onto the bed than he’s stuffing his cock back inside your waiting pussy. All his previous cum as well as your body’s overwhelming reaction to his rut makes it more than easy for WinWin to enter you again. 

Again, he folds your knees up to your shoulders, his body pressing you in two, but it allows him to sink deeper, and your body accommodates. Although, even with you making your slight shape-shifting alterations to yourself, WinWin’s big cock is a tight fit. 

His hands drift to your tits, cupping them, palming them, pinching at your nipples. 

“God, your boobs would look so amazing if you were carrying my babies,” WinWin moans, “Heavy with milk, your nipples so sensitive.”

You barely even have to think about it; the part of your mind that’s grown used to accessing your shapeshifting abilities moves to make WinWin’s fantasy a reality. Your tits swell in his hands, growing heavier, the nipples gently swollen. There’s nothing you can do to lactate, but this seems to be enough for him. 

His knot slaps against your pussy with each of WinWin’s deep thrusts, and you want to reach down, slip your fingers inside yourself along with his cock to show him that you can take his knot. How badly you need it, how it’s more than just a want now. 

“Give it to me,” you beg. “Please, I need to feel you, WinWin.”

He swears under his breath, his eyes flashing a dangerous shade of amber gold. 

You brace yourself for how it’s going to feel, doing your best to relax to let him in as WinWin thrusts in deep and then grinds forward even more, pressing in and circling his hips, trying to work the bulge of his knot through your entrance. 

There’s a stretch, a burn, a breathless feeling that speaks to the fire inside you. You have to suppress the urge to call your flames to the surface, shoving it down even as you feel your orgasm racing forward as WinWin’s knot slowly sinks inside you, stretching you beyond belief, making you feel so fucking full. 

Your eyes roll and WinWin curses in delight at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, closing tight around the base of his knot as he fully buries himself inside you, plugging you up. 

“Fucking hot,” he groans, and it takes you a moment to realize he doesn’t just mean that you successfully taking his knot is hot. You’re physically hot—sweat steaming off the surface of your skin as you barely contain the flames. 

He starts moving, rocking in deeper, and you close your eyes, nothing more than gurgling moans leaving you as he hits so deep that it almost hurts. Another wave of pleasure rises to meet the last, your body spending itself in squeezing around the girth of WinWin.

And at last, the pressure of your cunt massaging around his knot sets WinWin off. 

His knot swells even more, fully plugging your pussy as his cock twitches and a steady flow of hot cum spills into you. 

You only have time to push at his shoulders, to force WinWin to at least kneel up so he’s not fully covering you as you at last lose your hold on your flames. 

They burst from you, as hot as his cum filling you. The flames explode from your head and shoulders, arms and hands, flashing down the rest of your body for just long enough to lick heat against WinWin’a skin before they immediately die out again, all of your strength gone out of you with that last orgasm. 

But WinWin’s still cumming, huge gushes of it settling in your belly. You can feel your belly expanding to take it all. Your bodies are locked together with nowhere for all this cum to go but into your womb, and you feel blissed out, the sex-driven hunger gone for the first time since he first mentioned his rut. It feels like hours or minutes; you’re truly not sure how long it’s been. 

He pets your hair when at last his orgasm ends or he runs out of cum. You notice that the amber color of his eyes has softened back towards brown, and there’s no intense animalistic lustful energy in the air anymore. 

“That was intense, I’m sorry. It’s been, uh, a long time since I knotted inside someone,” WinWin apologizes and brushes a kiss to your brow.

“What do you normally do?” You ask, trying to not show just how exhausted you are now. “Don’t you have to knot to get through your rut?”

WinWin nods. “Yeah, but like, it doesn’t have to be inside someone. Usually I just use my hand or like fleshlight, the fleshlight kinda can trick my body into thinking I’m knotting someone. My rut lasts longer when I’m not with someone, usually it’s worse for me. But if I am with someone but I don’t knot inside them, it still sucks, but fucking someone warm at least takes the edge off a lot better than using my hand or a toy.”

“How long does it last?” You squirm. It feels peculiar, the stretch and full, heavy feeling of him and all of his cum inside you. 

“My rut? Uh, it’s between two and three days.” He looks away from you, “So, like, if you get tired, you don’t have to let me keep fucking you. I promise, I can just get myself off. Just tell me to fuck off.” 

“I meant your knot,” you squirm again. “Like, it goes down, right? How long does that take? And how long before you need to do it again?”

His cheeks color slightly. “An hour or two is how long it lasts, longer probably if you keep squeezing around me.” 

You realize that you have been unintentionally clenching and unclenching around him. “Sorry,” you smile. 

“And as for how long until I need to knot again, I’m not really sure. A couple hours, it really changes all the time. I’ll be fine until I’m just… not. It comes in waves, so I never really know. I usually just get sleep and eat and drink water when I can.”

You didn’t plan ahead at all. You should’ve put water within reach of the bed. Your kitchen is too many steps away to reach easily when you’re connected like this. 

“You should get some sleep, princess,” WinWin pets your hair again, leaving another kiss on your brow. “I’ll wake you if I need to.”

Carefully, WinWin rearranges the pair of you. He gently helps you lower your legs to a good position (though your muscles ache and scream in protest at moving), and he rolls over onto his back, settling you on top of him with his knot still snug inside you. He draws the blankets up over your bodies, and then he wraps his arms around you, tucking his face again into the crook of your shoulder to breathe in the smell of you. 

“You really do smell good,” he murmurs. 

“What do I smell like?” You’re curious. Ten and Yuta have both told you that you smell delicious. Mark has mentioned it in an offhand way several times, usually when he’s hungry, and the words are always paired with a bloodthirsty red glint in his eyes. 

WinWin is quiet for a moment. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, and a second heartbeat throbs dully deep inside you, like you’re feeling his pulse through his cock and his knot. He just breathes and you do too, letting it relax you. 

You’re tipping on the brink of sleep when WinWin finally answers. 

“Caramel. A little spice. Maybe cloves or cinnamon.” He answers softly, his breath tickling lightly over your skin. “Like a candy, maybe, or a warm drink, something that hits right in your belly and you can just feel it warming you from the inside out when the weather’s cold.” His arms hold you a little tighter. “Reminds me of home.”

You doze off. 

Vaguely, you dream (possibly) of Yuta. His hands light on your face, his hushed voice and WinWin’s in reply. You think you dream that WinWin carefully sits up with his arms holding you to his chest, his deflating knot still seated inside you as Yuta tips a glass of water to your lips, and you swallow down every drop, far more thirsty than you’d thought. 

You dream of Ten, his voice careful yet affectionate as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you from WinWin’s softening cock. 

It feels slightly less dreamlike and more real as he carries you to the bathroom, presses another glass of water into your hands to drink, and he helps you shower. You possibly cry actual tears when he helps wash away the cum that’s leaked and dried on your thighs, as Ten scoops WinWin’s cum out of you with his fingers—gently and cautiously as you’re sensitive to any contact at the moment. 

You hate to see it all go, and that inspires a few more lighthearted teasing words from Ten, and scattered kisses paired with promises that WinWin is sure to have more cum for you. 

“Do you hate me?” You cry even as he’s kissing every freckle on your cheeks. “You probably hate me. I broke a promise.”

“No, you didn’t,” Ten reassures you. He plants his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. “I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite actually. I told you I’m working on my jealousy. I’m being open-minded. This…. This has just been a test for me, and I think I’m doing quite well.” He leans in to kiss your forehead, and then he stays there, lips against your damp skin while the water rushes over both of you. After a few moments he murmurs, “It’s all quite complicated, but I’ve known that since the night we met you. You’re too lovely to not make everyone you meet fall in love with you. And I think, if it’s only us, just these few of us that are so closely knotted — no pun intended — then I can be happy with that. No one’s going to steal you away. I won’t let it happen.”

“I wouldn’t go anyway,” you promise. 

Ten makes sure you’re clean, hydrated, and even fed before he deposits you back into bed with a kiss. WinWin is passed out on the other side of the bed, holding a long pillow that you don’t recognize. 

“Sleep, darling. Yuta and I are here to take care of you. And WinWin, that dog.” He throws a look over at the werewolf in your bed. “Like I said earlier, shout if you need anything. Water. A break. Anything.”

“Got it,” you mumble, already sleepily turning over. 

And the next time you wake, there’s no sign of Ten or Yuta. Only you and WinWin, both of you undressed in the bed, a glass of water on the bedside table for each of you. 

You’re not really sure what woke you, not until you hear it again. A low panting sound, a short whine, the repetitive sound of something moving. 

You look at WinWin. 

He looks like he’s still sleeping; his eyes are closed though his eyebrows scrunch together. But his body is moving. His hips flex forward, grinding against the long pillow he’s still hugging. 

You can feel it again, the heat pouring off of his skin, the answering tug in your belly to his call of need. 

But you don’t touch him, you just watch. 

You watch him hump the pillow, his bare cock sliding against the slick precum that’s already dripping from his tip. You watch his mouth fall open, a slight glimpse at his teeth elongating into fangs as he bites at the corner of the pillow, his hips moving faster. You witness his orgasm, cum spurting from his angry red cock. 

And he doesn’t stop there. WinWin keeps moving, chasing the eternal need to cum, to breed, to knot someone. 

You can’t look away or bring yourself to reach out and wake him so you can spread your legs and let him use you as his little fucktoy instead of the pillow. You just watch as WinWin shifts, still dreaming as he mounts the pillow, pressing his body over top of it, rolling his hips to smoothly thrust against the softness of the pillow, but you can tell by the frustrated growl he lets out that it’s not enough. The pillow can’t give him the sweet, tight, warm friction that his rut requires. 

He moves, shifting in frustration, repositioning atop the pillow multiple times as he continues trying to fuck it, growing harder and more irritated as the pillow fails to please him. 

So finally you reach over. 

The moment that your hand makes contact with his feverishly hot skin, WinWin rolls toward you, abandoning his pillow. He spoons up behind you, his cock slotting against your ass. He sighs in relief at the warm feeling of you. 

His arms twist around you, hugging you to him like he’d been hugging that pillow. His nose buried in your hair against your shoulder, breathing in. 

Something about the way you smell drives him on harder. WinWin twists his hips against you, pinning your hips down beneath his against the bed, and you suppress a moan as he moves uncontrollably, rutting against your ass, his legs nudging yours apart slowly until at last his cock slips down between your thighs, moving on a mission like he can scent out your pussy, and his cock dives right in. 

You finally moan his name aloud as he sinks your sensitive pussy around his big dick again. 

“Wuh—?” A rut-drunk half asleep WinWin stirs, fucking you on his cock before he’s even fully aware of his surroundings. He doesn’t slow down, even once he realizes, most probably because you moan “keep going” and “don’t stop, WinWin! Fuck, right there!” because at this angle, he’s aimed perfectly against your G spot, and your first orgasm of today hits with very little warning. 

WinWin buries himself against you, his knot slipping inside you, every inch of you is touching him, your face pressed into the pillow as WinWin fully plows you. You can feel his knot swelling, his breath panting against your neck, and you’re just vibrating with pleasure.

This time when he knots you, you know what to expect. There’s the hot swell of his knot followed immediately by the equally hot burst of his cum, your body answering with your own orgasm. 

You can’t help yourself, twisting your head to the side, reaching back to tangle your fingers in WinWin’s hair, dragging his face from your neck to bring his lips to yours. 

It’s a messy, sideways kiss, but it’s what you need. You need to feel entirely encapsulated by WinWin, his body over yours and inside you and beneath you as his hands slide between your body and the mattress. 

You’re still in the middle of kissing him when you hear something that draws you out of the heated bubble of pleasure you’re knotted in with WinWin. And then when you feel the mattress shift, you actually pull away from WinWin. 

Yuta is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on where WinWin has lowered his head back to your throat, just inhaling your sweet scent while he slowly flexes his hips forward. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, just looking at Yuta. 

He shakes his head, smoothing his hand over a series of wrinkles in the bedsheets. “Just checking on you. Looks like you’re doing just fine.”

When Yuta reaches over to just touch you, WinWin growls. You watch Yuta make a face and then he detours to tug lightly at WinWin’s hair, chastising him with, “Hey, don’t be that way. I’m not stealing her away, puppy. And besides that, we share.”

“Couldn’t go anywhere, even if I wanted to,” you mumble. 

Yuta brushes a finger tenderly along your cheek. “I know, my love. He’s got you knotted good on his cock. You won’t forget about Ten and I, will you?”

You lean into his touch. “You can both join in, if WinWin will let you.”

“Ten had to go away on business,” Yuta says, “but I wouldn’t mind joining.” 

WinWin makes a slightly possessive growling sound again, but that ends when he lifts his head from your neck and looks up at Yuta. 

Specifically, it ends the moment WinWin notices that Yuta has shapeshifted to possess the amber-gold eyes of a wolf, and his teeth are bared in his own demonic version of a growl, saying, “I’m the alpha here, WinWin.”

WinWin’s knot is still swollen inside you, unlikely to come loose any time soon. He’s still doing his best to fuck you, to breed you until your belly is round with his cum again. His skin sticks to yours with sweat, and the heat only grows when Yuta suddenly vanishes all of his clothes and moves closer. 

Basking in the radiant heat of a werewolf in his rut and a demon feeling excited has you swimming in sweat, yet deeply aroused. 

“We can make this work. It’ll be a little different than with Ten and I,” Yuta says, “Since you’re quite literally joined to Win right now.” 

You don’t mind it being a little different. 

WinWin does his best to sit up, pulling you up with him, his cock and his knot still snuggly plugging you full of his cum. Yuta slides up in front of you, and you tip your head towards him, eagerly searching for a kiss from him. 

“So needy, my love.” He nuzzles against the side of your head for a moment before acquiescing to your nonverbal request for a kiss. Yuta is tender with you in this moment, like he’s fully aware of what your body has been through since they left you alone with WinWin yesterday. You’re not feeling the aches yet, but you know that once all of this dick fever brought on by WinWin’s rut ends, you’re going to be feeling it. 

Yuta slides a hand along the front of your body, taking a moment to touch your tits, to caress your sides, trailing his fingertips over your belly, his fingers lastly dipping down to your clit, which has been almost entirely neglected with WinWin. Yuta circles his finger against your clit, his mouth against yours as the heat builds higher and higher. WinWin is casually thrusting into you from behind, pushing out broken pants and moans from your lips. 

Yuta bites at your bottom lip as he pulls away, his teeth sharp enough to draw blood. You hiss in pain as Yuta sinks back on his heels, his finger still circling at your clit, and he licks his lips. 

“You taste sweet, baby girl. But you smell like our WinWin, if I’m being honest.” Yuta’s eyes flick over your shoulder to WinWin who begins to thrust into you with renewed vigor. “Ten and I are going to have to dip you in holy water or something to get rid of that smell. We already have been hunting down an herb for you to take after WinWin’s rut, to make sure nothing comes of it.”

“Guess I’ll just have to try harder, won’t I?” WinWin moans, and you feel his knot pulse inside you. “She wants it, Yuta. Who am I to deny your pretty girlfriend?”

Your eyes roll in ecstasy as the two of them bicker over you, WinWin dicking you down a little harder, Yuta distractedly massaging your clit at the exact rhythm to complement WinWin’s thrusts. 

Your orgasm is a slow, syrupy spread through you, beginning at your toes and then it’s just everywhere all at once. Your body threatens to collapse forward or sway back and rest against WinWin as your pussy milks around his knot. 

WinWin bites down at your shoulder, teeth digging against your skin, his body crushed against yours from behind, and you feel fit to burst with how full he makes you feel then, especially as you clench tight around him. 

Yuta’s hands move to your belly, pressing a hand low over your abdomen. 

“You’re swollen, baby girl. Happy?” Yuta strokes his fingers in a line from your navel down to just above your clit. 

“Happier if I had you too,” you manage to say. 

WinWin shakes his head behind you. “There’s no room for him.” 

“But there will be,” Yuta says. “Once your knot goes down some, just pop that knot out, that’ll free up some room. Your cock is big, Win, but it’s not so big that she can’t take us both at the same time.”

Oh, you feel like it might be. Your pussy’s being stretched to the limit, and it feels great right now, but that little worried voice in the back of your head won’t let you forget about how you’re going to feel after this is over. 

“It’ll be alright.” Yuta notices the worried look on your face. He touches your hair, kisses your forehead. “If you don’t want it, let us know. You can be honest.”

Your pussy keeps fluttering around WinWin, wanting more, but wanting a break as well, but also needing to have Yuta inside you as well. There’s nothing you can do about it until WinWin’s knot goes down. 

“I want it, want to have both.” You lean into Yuta’s touch. 

WinWin whines softly behind you, his needy rut making it difficult for him to even attempt giving you a little break now. But he tries his best to not try fucking you at the moment, like maybe if he doesn’t move his knot will go down quicker. 

Yuta curls his hand against your neck, and he brings your mouth to his kissing you gently and distractingly, helping you forget at least momentarily about how full and stretched you feel around WinWin. As Yuta sinks down into his back on the bed you follow, supporting yourself in your hands and knees to keep kissing him. His hands run smoothly over your back and down to your hips; the other hand touches your tits and your belly. 

It seems to be simultaneous when Yuta begins touching your clit and also dips his fingers over your unused asshole. Your core throbs, and WinWin unintentionally jolts forward. 

Yuta’s fingers deep further, brushing against where you and WinWin are joined. He gathers your wetness on his fingers, bringing them back up to swirl and prod against your ass. 

At the moment, you marvel at how far you’ve come over the last few months. You went from being a faithful girl, a young woman certain about her faith and the difference between good and evil, and also you were truly rather vanilla in terms of the sex you’d had with partners. But look at you now. Being knotted by a werewolf while one of the two demons you’re regularly having sex with plays with your ass, presumably to get you ready for anal. 

“If you keep that up,” WinWin groans, “I’m not going to be able to pull out.”

You’re reacting well to Yuta’s touches. The arousal always tucked just there beneath the surface readily rising to his call. 

He slips a finger through the tight ring of your ass, and you drop your head forward against his chest, pressing back on his finger and WinWin’s cock. WinWin rocks forward, Yuta massages your clit. 

“Shit,” you gasp. 

“Good girl,” Yuta coos. “Relax for us.”

You automatically obey, taking a deep breath to help relax yourself. Just press your lips to Yuta’s chest as he begins to finger you slowly while WinWin keeps moving in equally as slow motions, keeping you constantly stimulated. That’s even without factoring in the way Yuta continues teasing your clit. 

You succumb to a haze of lust, just laying there and receiving pleasure from the two of them. You don’t even let out moans, not really. You just zone out, your cheek pressed to Yuta’s shoulder, hums of quiet pleasure vibrating in your chest as WinWin’s rut haze takes over completely, pushed into effect by the gentle heat of your pussy around him also being stimulated via your ass.

WinWin cums and keeps going, groaning out an, “I’m sorry, I know you’ve got to be sensitive, but I need it,” as he pumps you full to the point of a weak cry spilling from your lips. He folds over you, humping into you like a dog with his favorite toy, and you possibly black out for a second, overwhelmed by a sudden confusing mix of pain, pleasure, and sensitivity. 

When you come back to, your face is sticking to Yuta’s chest with your tears, and you realize what caused your black out. 

WinWin’s readjusting. He pulled out of you,  knot and all, to position himself to fuck your newly opened ass. 

“You okay?” He asks when you look back over your shoulder at him. He’s stroking his cock, and you see his knot again for the first time since last night, swollen and darker colored than the rest of his cock. 

“Good,” you mumble. 

Yuta’s fingers are stretching your asshole open, and that too makes you want to roll your eyes into the back of your head. Everything feels so good right now, pleasure with an edge of pain, so high on pheromones and your body loose right now.

“You sure, baby?” Yuta kisses the top of your head. “You can tell him no. Tell us no.”

“Want it,” you roll your head on his chest until the point of your chin digs against his skin. “Yuta, I want both of you.”

His face is right there in front of yours, so close that his features are blurry and unfocused. “He can’t knot you again. I won’t allow that. You need some rest. Proper rest, my love. One orgasm for each of us, and I’m putting you in a timeout.”

You smile a little goofy at that comment, but WinWin makes his agreement behind you, so you nod as well. 

It’s so familiar by this point, the way that Yuta touches you, his hands running smoothly over your belly and your hips, reaching your thighs as he pulls you forward into his lap. You know that you’re leaking WinWin’s cum to a disgusting degree, but it doesn’t seem to bother Yuta. He pulls you into his lap, watching you with that deep fiery hunger in his eyes as they blossom with darkness, and he guides you to sink down around his erection. 

It’s such a difference from WinWin stretching you open with his giant knot. Yuta’s a perfect size, even though you can tell that he’s altered himself to more closely resemble the cock he’d worn when he fucked you as WinWin. 

Yuta softens you up with his kiss, with his hands on your hips, his cock rocking slowly up into you. And then you feel WinWin, his fingers slicking up through the leaked cum, pressing them inside your back entrance to stretch you just a little more even after Yuta’s ministrations. 

“Good girl,” Yuta keeps praising you. “You’re so good for WinWin, my love. Doing so well.” He kisses your cheeks, licking away the overwhelmed tears that drip from your eyes, and he lowers his kisses until he lands at your lips. “My perfect girl. You can handle this?”

You nod, full of desire to take them both at once even as the uncertainty of it floods through your veins. WinWin’s cock alone is a lot to take, add taking Yuta’s altered cock in at the same time, and you’re just nervous about it. 

With your final confirmation and consent to this, you feel WinWin push his fat tip against your entrance, moving slow even though you can feel the tension tight in his muscles, the want to just bury himself inside your heat radiating from him. But he eases slowly, getting the tip in while Yuta holds you still in his arms, kissing your cries away in an attempt to soothe you. 

WinWin pushes in a little more and a little more, rocking his hips forward shallowly, not trying to stuff you too full of his cock when you’ve got Yuta in there as well. And he keeps his swollen knot away from the tight pucker of your ass. He gives you the chance to adjust, and Yuta does as well, both of them kissing you, touching you, and then beginning to move again. 

It’s a very intense feeling to have two men penetrating you at once. To have both of them moving in alternating but complementary ways, big cocks touching everywhere inside you, nearly touching through the thin wall between your ass and vagina. 

Yuta’s hands run repeatedly over your arms and back and shoulders, pulling you down closer, kissing you desperately, his hands flickering with heat like invisible flames. 

WinWin’s touch doesn’t stray from your hips, determinedly fucking into you, and when you get the spare moment to look back at him, he’s just watching his cock disappear inside your ass, or maybe watching Yuta’s be consumed by your pussy. 

You do your best to move, too. Bouncing back on their cocks, feeling yourself stuffed so full if they time it just right to both be fully inside of you at the same moment. That’s just a feeling beyond your wildest dreams, indescribably good. Something so absolutely explicit about having both of your holes stretched to the max, feeling WinWin’s knot right there—swollen and pressing against your asshole, but he doesn’t push it in, though there’s a part of you that wishes he would, and that Yuta would alter his cock to have a knot too, for them both push all the way in, double-knotting you. 

You cum with that thought consuming your mind, being double-knotted by your werewolf and your demon pretending to be a wolf, pumped full with their cum. 

“Filthy,” Yuta moans, as your body tries to pull them both in deeper and to hold them inside you. His fingers are on your face, against your temple, gentle down your cheek. “What you’re thinking about my love, it’s pure filth.”

In your demon lessons, he and Ten have been teaching you to block others out of your thoughts, and for the most part you’re excellent at it. But right now, you have no strength to hold those walls up. They’ve come tumbling down, and Yuta’s slipped himself right through the gaps, reading your thoughts as plainly as if you were speaking them aloud. 

“You want us both to knot you, pretty girl?” Yuta voices aloud, probably for WinWin’s benefit. “What a dirty knotslut.” 

WinWin moans behind you, his hands holding tighter to your hips, his thrusts more powerful, rocking you on Yuta’s cock as well. 

Yuta smirks. “You want it, baby? I’ll make an exception to my rules. We can each knot you one last time before your timeout.” 

Your eyes feel wet, body aching with need, teetering on the edge of another orgasm as WinWin loses control of himself and begins to just take what he needs, using you as a fucktoy, his knot squeezing up against your entrance. 

“Please!” You beg, and your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “Please, please, knot me again. Both of you. I need it. I need—“

Yuta leans up, silencing you with a kiss, his hand curled against the back of your head. 

You feel Yuta’s cock swelling inside you, the change subtle but noticeable after a moment as he begins to let his control slip. You feel a bulge at the base of his cock, feel the way he thrusts in right before the bulge inflates. Your orgasm is instantaneous. 

And then WinWin’s fingers press against your asshole, slipping in gently, stretching you open just a little bit more, and it feels so good. You feel like your body is leaking arousal, everywhere down there so slick from your wetness and their precum and cum, that WinWin easily gets a couple more fingers in alongside his cock, making room for his knot to fit in. 

He thrusts in, sliding his knot past the tight grip of your hole, and you genuinely think you black out. 

It’s too much. So much. This feeling. 

You experience it through a fog, hazy recollections later.

They cum inside you at the same time.

Both of them pressed in fully, all the way inside you, knots swelling to close you off, to keep their cum in as it pulses in hot waves inside you. 

Your limbs give out completely, all of your weight resting on Yuta beneath you, but you don’t think anyone cares in that moment. All floating away, lost in the bliss of being wrapped tight in your heat, their cocks being milked by your body for all they’ve got. 

You don’t know how long it is that you’re in that state of semi-consciousness, but eventually you’re back. One moment everything’s a haze, and the next you’re blinking your eyes open, feeling Yuta tenderly playing with your hair. 

“You’re definitely being forced into a timeout now,” Yuta whispers. “That was more than we should’ve given you.”

WinWin murmurs in agreement. 

Slowly you realize that their knots must have gone down. You’re empty, gaping and leaking. You’re on your side in between Yuta and WinWin, and when you shift your legs to attempt to get more comfortable you find that’s an impossibility because everything aches. Your body feels sticky all over, not just between your legs, but your belly and shoulders and face, everything damp from sweat and tears and coming in contact with the sheets that are likely ruined (again).

You feel like you should rest. They’re right about that. Your body, much as that little fire that’s still burning in your belly at the feel of WinWin behind you and Yuta’s bare body laid out in front of your hungry eyes, you know it can’t take much (if any) more.

But you’re not tired is the only problem. Yes, physically you feel like your body needs to just take some time to recover, but you don’t feel like sleeping. Sleeping, recently here in this city, has become less of a requirement than it did when you believed yourself to just be a human living in the mortal world. 

“I think I need a shower.” You sigh, lifting your thighs apart from each other, feeling the sticky pull of your skin. “And some water.”

Yuta snaps his fingers, manifesting three glasses of water instantly, passing one off to WinWin, to you. The three of you drink them down in silence, following the first up with a second, and as you dribble some down your chin and WinWin teases you about it, wiping at your chin with his fingers, you’re reminded suddenly of the night before. Of Ten cleaning you up and helping you rehydrate. 

“Where’s Ten at?” You ask, looking to Yuta for an answer. 

“Demon business, my love.” Yuta takes the empty water glasses and sits them aside. 

“Ten’s going to be jealous,” WinWin says delightedly, moving up closer behind you, his lips against your shoulder, nose buried in the crook of your neck. “When he comes home and finds you smelling like me and Yuta.”

Yuta laughs. “Ten’s a possessive little cat. He’s probably going to be pissed at me for joining in, then he’s gonna rub all over you, my love. Gonna mark you with his scent all over again, beg you for love and cuddles.”

And you’re going to give it all to him. You can hardly ever deny him anything, except when you’re angry with him. When he gets home, as long as all he wants are cuddles, you’ll give it to him. As for him restating his claim on you through sex, that’s going to have to wait. 

“I feel disgusting.” You turn over onto your belly, wrinkling your nose as you feel the slow leak between your legs. “I don’t know what I expected when I agreed to help you through your rut, WinWin, but it wasn’t this.”

It’s obscene. You can’t even attempt to look; you don’t even want to think about the amount of sticky cum your body has held over the past twenty-four hours. 

He laughs quietly, another press of his lips to your skin in apology. “I’ll make it up to you with a million thank yous,” WinWin promises. “Give you everything, whatever you want, princess.”

 - - -

WinWin’s rut lasts another two days. Yuta stays there through most of it, drawing the line when he can see you reaching your limit. WinWin knots you a few more times, Yuta joins in on that at least once more. Ten makes an appearance briefly in between rounds, returning to check in, but then he’s gone again by the time that WinWin’s lust rises again. 

By the end of it all, you were exhausted, sleeping for what must have been an entire day. 

And when you woke, you weren’t in the bed any longer, but on the sofa. Sitting up in Ten’s arms, leaning back against his chest. 

“Missed you,” he mumbles when you twist a little in his arms, trying to readjust to look at his face. His arms are tight around you, holding you against his chest, his head resting against the top of yours. Ten is so wrapped around you, with a blanket of his snug around you as well, that you can tell he’s doing exactly what Yuta and WinWin had said he’d be doing—making you smell less like WinWin. 

“Ten,” you hum happily. “Where were you? I wanted you to be there too.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and in that you think you get your answer a little bit. 

Ten couldn’t be there. He’s possessive, like you’re all aware of. Though he gave you up to WinWin’s rut, he didn’t want to linger here and watch. He accepted it, but he didn’t want to play witness to you getting fucked a dozen plus times.

“I’m here now.” He moves his head, leaving a kiss against your hair. “You’ve been asleep for a while, darling, so I moved you over here while they fixed the bed.”

Oh, right. You forgot that other than just ruining the sheets, during the midst of all of that, towards the end of the second day or perhaps it was the beginning of the third, you’d broken the bed. You’d left it, as the bed wasn’t broken enough to really disturb all the sex you had going on, but the break did get worse, falling apart more with each round. 

“We cleaned you up, too,” Ten says. “And he did a number on you. Your hips and bottom are bruised.”

“Worth it, honestly.” You shift around to get a little more comfortable. “I know you might not want to hear that, but it really was, Ten.” 

He nods. “Yuta told me all about it. Also, you drank some of the tea we made for you while you were sleeping. So, you don’t have to worry about, like, actually getting knocked up with a litter of werewolf cubs.”

There’s a bloom of relief inside you. While all of that idea about being bred was hot in the moment, you don’t actually want that. Werewolf cubs might be a little too much to wrap your mind around. 

You and Ten lapse into comfortable silence, just wrapped up in each other for a little while. The curtains are drawn over the big windows, making the apartment quite dim, but as you lie there in Ten’s arms, you begin to want a little light. So, you manifest it. Slowly. 

You tip your head back on Ten’s shoulder, and slowly, you see the lights begin to appear, popping into existence on the ceiling. 

First one star. Then another. A constellation, the pale arm of the Milky Way. A bigger sparkle that could be Venus or Saturn in the imitation of the night sky on your ceiling. 

Ten kisses the top of your head again when the moon appears, a narrow crescent in the corner of the room. “You’re incredible,” Ten’s voice is soft with awe and wonder.

You lie there and stargaze at the universe you created, relaxing with Ten until Yuta appears. He slides right onto the sofa with you, slotting himself between your legs and leaning back against your chest. 

“It’s beautiful. I told you that you could do it.” His hand covers your knee, a comforting heat. “You’re like a god all on your own now, my love. Painting the universe, able to shapeshift and summon fire.” 

You’re not a god. Gods are holy and above everything and everyone else. You’re a part-demon thing of unholiness in love with two demons. 

But you don’t feel like speaking, your body still exhausted to your core from the marathon of rigors it's been through over the past few days. So you just lie there in the quiet with your lovers, and enjoy the sight of the stars.

<-previous || next–>

a/n: *big sigh of relief* that was a long one, like in the document, that whole WinWin rut was like 30 pages long 😂😂 I hope you enjoyed this! There was a tiny bit of plot development in here, and I’m hoping going forward in the next few chapters you’ll actually be able to see the plot instead of just the smut because we’re reaching the point where when I was writing this I decided to make it more than just smut

As always! Thank you so much for reading! Comments, reblogs, likes, all of that stuff is forever and always appreciated!

(ps, if at any point you notice any inconsistencies please let me know! Because half of this story was written like a month and a half ago, and half of it I’m writing on the days in between posting, so there might be some things that I accidentally mess up and don’t catch when I do an edit)

[stillness-in-green]

On Heteromorphs and Heteromorphobia (Arc XVI - XVIII, Endeavor Agency to Villain Hunt)

My thanks to @codenamesazanka for providing me a few crops this week for less fuzzy looks at background characters than I could manage working just off the Viz online catalogue. I'm hoping this posts okay, because it's about a thousand words longer than any of these have been so far, but has a lot less sub-sub-sub bullets than last week's breakdown of the CRC volume extra. Fingers crossed, and dive in, all!

The Endeavor Agency Arc (Chapters 241-252)

Chapter 245:

Another installment of Bakugou using animal terms, as he calls Hawks a spoonbill (in the Japanese, heradori, loosely meaning carefree bird).  Deku asks, with some sweatdrops, if he means Hawks; Endeavor’s sidekicks just tell him he’s got moxie.  One of Endeavor’s four consistently illustrated sidekicks is a big horse-like guy, though he’s by far the one who gets the least attention from the narrative; he is notably not in the panel of Endeavor sidekicks praising Bakugou’s go-getter attitude.   

The Paranormal Liberation War Arc (Chapters 253-306)

Chapter 256: 

Shouji is noted as having done his work study with Gang Orca.  I would kill to know if they ever had a conversation about their wildly different approaches to managing their scary heteromorph image, but Horikoshi has not deigned to show us anything to that effect.   

Chapter 258: 

This chapter gives us the full spread of the PLF regiment advisors.  While only a few of them will (as of this writing) get much to do, it’s notable that the percentage of obvious heteromorphs considerably increases at this level.  The MLA leadership was, barring cosmetic things like Curious’s skin or Re-Destro’s pointed ears,[1] all quite baseline, but every single regiment has at least one obvious heteromorph in their chains of command.  Indeed, a solid third of them are blatant heteromorphs,[2] which is a better percentile than, for example, the Shie Hassaikai or the U.A. staff can claim. It makes sense, given the obvious problems with restricting unlicensed quirk use to the home, that the MLA would attract a disproportionate number of heteromorphs, but the full extent of this will not be apparent for some time yet.

[1] His nose I read as more an exaggeration than a trait that’s specifically intended to be non-human-looking, but if it is supposed to be non-baseline, it’s considerably more obvious than his ears.

[2] That is, the really obvious, extreme heteromorphs, who number seven of the twenty-one advisors.  I didn’t count the R2D2 lookalike, the guy with the question mark mask, or Hose Face, who might be heteromorphs or might just be in costume, nor did I count Dabi’s #1, the spiky guy in the cabbie hat, whose concrete divergence of a pronged chin is a lot less noticeable than his being, like, eight feet tall and as broad in the chest as a particularly top-heavy wardrobe.  Any of those that are heteromorphs obviously increase the ratio even more.   

Chapter 259:

Our only shot to date of the gal who’s probably Natsuo’s girlfriend, who’s a heteromorph in the “mostly human but with some tertiary animal features glued on” mode; in her case, she has mouse ears and, judging by her body language, a fairly mousy demeanor.  Notable for being one of the most prominent heteromorph/non-heteromorph romantic relationships in the series, which is setting the bar about a quarter-inch off the ground.  Even more notable when you consider Dabi and Shouto’s willingness to sling around dehumanizing microaggressions!    I will remind everyone again that Natsuo evaded the topic of his having met someone at school when Fuyumi brought it up in front of their mother back in Chapter 187; while it played at the time as just a young man being embarrassed, this chapter’s splash page makes it apparent that he had a reason to be embarrassed, and was not just that awkward about the very concept of himself in a romantic relationship.     Knowing, then, that he had met someone at school, the question for the attentive reader becomes, “So why didn’t he want to tell Fuyumi and Rei about it back then, when Fuyumi gave him such a perfect opening?”  At this stage, the most the reader has grounds to assume[3] is that he’s just shy, or he wasn’t quite yet at a point in his relationship with this gal that he wanted to do the whole “introduce her to my family” song and dance, especially given what someone finding out more about his family would entail!  Later reveals about Rei’s side of the family will suggest a different, less benign possibility, however.   

[3] I’ll go ahead and rule out the idea that Natsuo is an asshole who’s not serious about her as being obviously not in the spirit of what we know about him.      

Chapter 267+268: 

Mirko has the thought, “Quick as a rabbit!” when focusing on catching up to Ujiko.  Later, in the midst of vigorously dehumanizing Shigaraki, she makes mention of her “rabbit survival instincts.”  We saw those animal references with Hawks as well, whereas it’s not something we see as much, if ever, from people like Tsuyu or Spinner.  As I suggested before, it’s easy to imagine people who have a hard time because of their appearance are more sensitive about said appearances than people who look like drop-dead gorgeous baseline humans but with a few animal features—but only as long as they’re cute or charismatic animals!—pasted on as an “exotic” touch.

Chapter 271: 

Dabi addresses Hawks and Tokoyami as yakitori—grilled chicken skewers, localized as “roasted chickens.”  This is less eyebrow-raising than him calling Spinner a lizard and then accusing him of being oversensitive for protesting—Hawks and Tokoyami are Dabi’s enemies, after all, and this is hot off of Hawks murdering Twice.  However, it certainly doesn’t support a read I’ve periodically seen offered that Dabi Learned From His Mistake With Spinner and Resolved Not To Do It Again.   

Geten calls the assembled heroes “dogs of the state.”  He’s not addressing any heteromorphs specifically, and of course using “dog” as an insult against someone viewed as overly obedient to a corrupt authority has plenty of history in many languages.  Still, I wonder if it’s the kind of usage that is frowned on as insensitive in some circles, similar to using e.g. “blind” to describe willful ignorance.   

Chapter 278: 

First spoken line delivered by Spinner’s #2, who will go on to be a key figure at the hospital attack.  Even the handful of lines he gets here is extremely effective at establishing his personality—grandiose, dedicated to the cause of revolution, and a vocal rallying figure for those he leads.    A few pages later, another panel will reveal him as being unusually short, likely taller than e.g. Mineta, but shorter than any of the story’s other teenagers, even the girls.  This small stature, combined with the insectile legs protruding from behind his shoulders, give an early hint that we’re looking at a heteromorph, while his mask sets up the possibility that he’s concealing something about his face.    Regarding the mask, it's possible that he just wears it for The Aesthetic, save that the MLA—unlike, say, the Shie Hassaikai—don't have an organizational culture towards masks, as the MLA are very geared towards hiding in plain sight, just looking like normal, average members of society.  Only three out of the twenty-one advisors (give or take whatever’s going on with the R2D2 look-alike) fully cover their faces; Spinner's #2 is one of those three.  It begs the question of why—a question the hospital scene will at least suggest an answer to.   

Chapter 281: 

Shigaraki lays out, over the course of four pages, his mini-manifesto on why he’s going to destroy Hero Society, in which he talks about how heroes have disregarded, even actively concealed, the suffering of those they couldn’t save.  While his mind seems to be mainly on his own experience, we also know that he’s aware of how others like him have suffered.  He’s spent months with victims of Hero Society’s repressiveness, one of whom made very clear, by means of shouting it in Shigaraki’s face, the discrimination he’d faced with no one ever coming to help him.  Shigaraki knows about heteromorph discrimination the same way he knows about villain quirk discrimination and the dehumanization of criminals.  His declaiming here about generations of heroic failure serves to stand in for all of that.    Notably, it continues to be the case that the crowd scenes consist mainly of relatively baseline, mostly human-looking folks.  Those are the ones who most enjoy protection and safety in the current system; all of two people in thirty across three crowd shots in Shigaraki’s manifesto have heteromorphic features/builds more extreme than some extraneous pointy bits pasted on, and both of those two are dressed as heroes, not civilians.

I count the big energy guy in the cape in the top panel, and the Muppet-looking guy with four arms in the bottom.  Everyone in the panel I didn’t include—the one of Tenko walking through the crowd of silhouettes—is baseline-give-or-take-some-pointy-bits.    We hardly ever see someone like the Sludge Villain or Shouji, or hell, even Tokoyami, in these crowd scenes as everyday civilians, and the conclusion is, inescapably, that it’s because the present-day society doesn’t accept people like that as everyday civilians.

Note, here, how Endeavor responds to the accusation that heroes ignore the pain of those they can’t save—he takes a breather while Shigaraki rambles and then immediately resumes his attack, not seeming to register for even a second that this could be an opening to talk, to de-escalate, even if only as a stalling tactic to let Aizawa get a blink in, to buy the evacuation more time, to give his compatriots that little bit more time to recover.  He’s clearly written off Shigaraki’s words the moment Shigaraki started talking, and no one with him seems to have done any different, not even Midoriya Izuku.    This kind of thing is distressingly common in the series: the heroes have absolutely nothing to say about societal inequality, right up until a victim of it turns up acting criminal, at which point the dialogue goes from the stone silence of complicity to the moral scolding of, “This is going too far.”

Chapter 297: 

The Tartarus jailbreak chapter brings us Shishikura’s father scoffing at the idea that Gigantomachia could be called human, referring to him instead as, “A disaster on legs, or a wild beast.  Just like the rest of the animals we’ve got locked up here.”  He goes on to say that “disgusting beings” like the Tartarus prisoners only managed to blend in with society for as long as they did because, “Quirks have warped our standards for humanity.”    This is clearly mostly a villain bias issue—with the exception of Kurogiri, all of the villains shown on the page of this dialogue are relatively baseline, with transformation or emitter-style quirks.  All the same, it’s worth noting that he repeatedly associates villains with wild animals, dehumanizing them in ugly, startlingly explicit terms.  It begs the question: What are Shishikura’s father’s standards of humanity?  What is he suggesting his society tolerates that pre-Advent society would not have?  I would guess that his beef is with those he views as lacking the self-control or moral standards to refrain from villainy,[4] but rather than just say that, he instead goes to turns of phrase invoking the bestial.  I suspect that deterministic rhetoric like his is not uncommon as justification for both anti-heteromorph discrimination and the bias against villains.   

[4] This guess is based on his wording, what we know about his son’s personality, and the worldbuilding lore that the crime rates shot up with the advent of quirks and never went back down to pre-Advent norms.  The crime rate issue in particular would be highly visible in a society that prided itself on being as peaceful as Japan does in the real-world modern day.   

I will note that, of the six people we see making breakouts who we weren’t already acquainted with—five nameless figures and one Lady Nagant, at the time a new face—four of them are visibly, obviously heteromorphic.

The three in the foreground are quite distinct, and the one at the far back looks like he fits the bill as well.  Only the one to Moonfish’s immediate left looks baseline, likely an emitter.

The guards, of course, are baseline to a man, with the only exceptions being Gyges and Briareos, who, judging by their costumes, are hero-licensed, not normal wardens.   

Chapter 298: 

The Central Hospital staff start getting introduced.  In much the same way as the police force has a relatively high rate of animal-type heteromorphs in speaking roles,[5] Central Hospital is full of Super Mario Bros. joke characters.  This is mostly a silly in-joke at the time, but Dr. Yoshi here will be back to serve as a deeply exasperating, bad faith gotcha during the hospital attack.   

[5] The rando guys with riot shields are always hella baseline, but there are, by my count, six recurring roles in the police cast: Tsukauchi, Tsuragamae, Sansa, Gori, and two unnamed men I suspect to be with the National Police Agency (the one who tries to get Nedzu to call off the Cultural Festival and the one with the HPSC President in the scene where she’s giving Hawks his League infiltration assignment). Half of these are heteromorphs.   

Chapter 299: 

Hawks's dad, whose little elbow winglets prefigure his son's full wings, has a lament about how he could have been, “free as a bird!” There's no animal reference in the Japanese text.   

I brought up a panel back in the Kamino arc to demonstrate that there was a higher incidence than usual of heteromorphs in an area that was meant to come off, visually, as somewhat seedy.  While there’s always some element of randomness to that sort of thing—I assume the background extras are usually drawn by Horikoshi’s assistants, not the man himself—we see the same thing in the subway station Tomie takes baby Hawks to after they leave home.

Note how run-down the place looks, with cracked floor tiles, dingy walls, and equipment piled up in the open, then note how at least three, maybe four, of the five people in the foreground have heteromorphic features.   

Chapter 300: 

Dr. Toad at Central Hospital, who will show up in a flashback in the hospital raid that is barely less obnoxious than Dr. Yoshi’s appearance.

Chapter 301: 

While not immediately connected to heteromorphobia, this chapter establishes that Rei’s family, the Himura, were once prestigious and much-storied, but had fallen on hard times by the time they were approached by Endeavor about a quirk marriage.  The easy assumption for why Rei’s parents are so okay with the arrangement is that they were just that desperate for money, but in retrospect, a quirk marriage was far more sane and normal than what their family had been doing for generations!   

Chapter 303: 

Hawks mentions Spinner in his accounting of the problems facing Team Hero.  This makes him rather unusual—All Might, for example, will later repeatedly fail to mention Spinner in similar situations, though it’s unclear whether that’s because All Might genuinely doesn’t believe Spinner to be a threat or whether All Might is trying to avoid bringing up the brewing race riot enormous mob consisting of members of a long-oppressed minority group, in hopes of keeping his students away from it.   

Chapter 306:

I’ve avoided bringing him up until this point because his hero costume makes it very hard to tell if his neck is just a mildly caricatured feature like Re-Destro’s or if it really is covering up a non-baseline feature, but Best Jeanist’s outfit at the press conference is the place to start if you want to make an argument for him having a heteromorphic feature.

If he is a heteromorph, Jeanist covers it up extremely well, to the point that I’ve never seen anyone outside my chat group even raise the possibility that he might be!  But that is part of his whole modus operandi, isn’t it?  To keep up the appearance of things, to present an unassailable image of heroes, even when they’re running themselves ragged, because that’s what he believes the public needs?  Here we see Shouji’s decision about masking himself taken to its logical extreme—being so invested in a harmonious appearance that doesn’t disturb anyone that he doesn’t even register as non-baseline to begin with.    I’m very fond of Jeanist, mind you, and I love his awareness of surface and veneer—he feels like someone who has made a conscious, considered, moral decision to uphold the system, a decision he’s given far more thought to than fellow heroes who never get past, “How do I want to present myself to the public?” to the question of, “Why do I believe this presentation is the correct moral choice?”  But that veneer is, as the endgame has gone to some efforts to explore, not sustainable for anyone.  (Would that Shouji were taking notes.)   

The Villain Hunt Arc (Chapters 307-328)

Chapter 310: 

This chapter brings us the attack on the giant woman.[6]  While the three men—all baseline, all using support goods rather than whatever their own quirks are—attacking her seem to be doing so out of fears that she’s a villain, not explicit hatred for heteromorphs, this is very clear heteromorphobia nonetheless.  There’s absolutely nothing about the Ordinary Woman that suggests that she’s remotely villainous—not her attitude, not her dress, not even something like a punky haircut!  The only reason to distrust this woman’s intentions is suspicion of her height, her claws, her vulpine face—in other words, her status as a heteromorph.  The only other thing remotely dubious about her is that she was out after dark—but of course, so were the men hunting her!    Note here the woman’s strong implication that she was attacked before she ever reached a shelter.  She says she thought to take shelter at a hero school and, somewhat haphazardly, left her home in the night.  She doesn’t finish the sentence, trailing off before apologizing, but it’s plainly nighttime when Deku rescues her, and, by her own words, she’s still in her own town.  The story isn’t finished with her yet, and what happens to her next is tied to her experience at the shelter she was trying to reach.   

[6] As yet unnamed due to some misguided idea Horikoshi has about keeping her an everywoman; even in her character profile, she’s just the Ordinary Woman.   

Deku unthinkingly commits what reads to me as a fairly egregious microaggression here,[7] suggesting that the men who attacked the Ordinary Woman were probably just as afraid as she was of the recent chaos.  They were just understandably afraid, so, you know, it’s not really their fault that they viciously attacked you, an obviously terrified innocent woman!  You just look so scary!   

[7] Though I don’t get the impression Horikoshi registered it.   

The two discuss wanting things to “go back to normal.”  Normal, in Ordinary Woman’s experience, means not getting attacked right out in the streets of her own town, but it’s worth thinking about how little it took to prompt that attack, and thus to ask how abnormal such violence truly is.  As we will find, there are parts of the country that didn’t at all need a slide into lawlessness for an attack like this to be horrifically, appallingly “normal.”  

Banjo compares the current circumstances to those around the time of the Advent—darker days in which people lived holding their breaths, trying not to stand out.  This phrasing is not exclusive to heteromorphs; even something as simple as being on your own can make you “stand out” as a target, and we know plenty of quirkless people were victimized exactly like that.[8]  All the same, it’s self-evidently the case that people who don’t look like everyone else will inherently stand out, and no amount of traveling in groups or refraining from the use of their powers will change that.  Lines like this don’t explicitly reference the heteromorph mass slaughters we will later be shown, but they do lay the contextual groundwork that makes those slaughters both believable and predictable.    Folding that all together, the Ordinary Woman demonstrates very clearly how difficult it is, especially in times of chaos, to be a heteromorph and just be normal.  And when being "normal" is so difficult, what do you do? Try to be normal, gambling that heroes will be there to save you when you’re victimized?  Try to protect yourself by becoming the kind of paragon your society admires, knowing it will cost you your voice? Turn against the society that repeatedly fails to protect you, resigning yourself to a life on the run?  There's no outcome that doesn't demand carrying the burden of a decision that other, “normal” people are not required to make.   

[8] We know this because it’s explicitly explained as what happened to the quirkless man in the One For All dream flashback in Chapter 193.      

Chapter 314: 

Lady Nagant drops the ugly secret of the HPSC for Deku,[9] telling a heroic character an only very slightly more extreme version of what the reader already knew from Hawks’ duties and backstory.  This is not specifically about heteromorphs (though the face we most visibly see her murdering is one), but it does point to the possible difficulties in organizing serious movements to agitate for changes to the current system.  The HPSC is so firmly convinced that the Hero System is society’s best and only defense against chaos, and thus any threats to that system can, justly, be disposed via extrajudicial assassination.  What chance, then, would an activist leader have as soon as they started being disruptive enough for the HPSC to notice them?   

[9] Who will do absolutely jack shit with it, and, indeed, come away from their encounter blaming her fall on AFO, somehow.      

Chapter 318: 

*meme voice Good For Him*

Introduces the Spinner fanboys, a pair of octopus-type heteromorphs in quite good Spinner cosplay, who will crop back up later at the hospital attack.  They’re foreshadowing for the Spinner-as-representative plot, though said plot will not make 100% clear whether or not these two were inspired by Spinner on his own merits, back when he was just another member of the League of Villains, as opposed to after the PLF started pushing his image forward specifically.    They’re with a small group of other heteromorphs attacking a trio of baseline folks.  Deku defends the baseline group from the attack but apparently does not follow through on chasing down the heteromorphs; he just breaks it up and lets the attackers run off, perhaps feeling like panicky civilians (to whatever extent people literally wearing a wanted villain’s colors are “civilians”) are not threats he needs to facilitate the arrest of, or perhaps just conserving his energy for his big fights with AFO’s people.

Later in the chapter, we see a more abbreviated version of a similar sequence of events, save that this time, there are heteromorphs on both sides, demonstrating that the violence has not entirely broken down along baseline vs heteromorph lines.  You saw this in an earlier chapter as well, with one of the people in the group confronting Endeavor being a lady with a dog head, but this is the first place you see it in an actual conflict.

I dig this kappa dude with the Shounen Main Character Guy haircut.  And good on his more baseline friends for sticking with him.

This chapter also introduces Dictator, one of the Tartarus escapees singled out as sent by All For One.  Dictator drives me crazy because like, okay, yes, he’s a cartoonish and ridiculous caricature of a Villain, down to his quirk name being given as Despot.[10]  But I would ask the reader to look at this guy and really, really think about what life must have been like for him when he was, say, Kouta or Eri’s age.

   I mean, really.   

[10] Remember my thought experiment from early on about who decides what quirks are named, parents or a government official?  Yeah.  Who’s responsible for giving that quirk name to a four-year-old?   

One thing that’s always felt telling to me about Deku’s brief exchange with Dictator here is that Dictator, in amidst a flurry of dramatic supervillain talk, says, “Taking you in will bring me security,” and Deku, Mr. Wants To Understand Villains & Save Absolutely Everyone himself, doesn’t ask, doesn’t even think, about what Dictator could possibly mean by that sentence.    I know Dictator’s in the middle of controlling a bunch of people and is working for AFO and Deku’s exhausted and all—the story makes it clear that he took a turn for the more gritty and driven after Nagant quite literally blew up in his face.  Still, when you compare the attempts he makes to ask questions and interact with Muscular, Overhaul and Lady Nagant—all relatively baseline when their quirks aren’t in use, and significantly more baseline than Dictator even when they are—his total incuriosity about Dictator does stand out pretty badly.   

Chapter 320:

Ojirou mentions being touched by how angry at Shinsou Deku got on his behalf back at the Sports Festival.  Recall that Shinsou called Ojirou a monkey back then.  Is he not used to other people getting mad for his sake about that sort of thing?   

Chapter 323: 

Some really fascinating stuff both from and about Nedzu in this chapter.  Firstly, Endeavor says that Nedzu’s contributions to “quirk morality education” have made him internationally renowned, yet I can’t help but observe that at least the first year students have not learned anything of the sort.  Their classes and exercises are focused primarily on combat, with a secondary focus on teamwork in that most of their exercises see them separated into pairs or small groups.  There are also special lessons that boil down to being about how to create their own distinct hero “brand.”    What I cannot call to mind are any lessons on the morality of quirk use.[11]  That’s not to say there’s none of that in the series at all, but the stuff that I think of is not encountered in class.  The focus on dealing appropriately with injured and frightened victims, for example, comes courtesy of the license exam, while the lecture about heroes following the rules and behaving appropriately comes from Tsuragamae after the Stain incident.  The remedial course with Gang Orca probably comes closest, and is technically a course, rather than an exam, but Nedzu has nothing to do with it, so it clearly can’t count.    Once again, I am left to wonder when exactly Hero schools start teaching these alleged lessons in quirk-based ethics.  Offscreen, or only in higher grades?  It’s not a real great look, I think, that the priority is on all the cool flashy stuff and not the ethical ramifications of using your power to enact violence on people.  And sure, it’s a shounen comic, so you’ve got to keep things flashy enough not to lose the readers, but it wouldn’t take more than a few dedicated pages now and again where Aizawa or Nedzu talk to students about the weight of what they’re doing.  We don’t get those pages, so the discussion of quirk “morality” is largely under-explored.[12]    This is, of course, not directly about heteromorphobia, but discussion of the morality of quirks would have to include the beliefs people have about quirks, which in turn affect everything about how the world deals with them: quirk discrimination, quirk counseling, the laws surrounding quirk use, the punishment for breaking those laws, and so forth.  All things with significant impacts on heteromorphs!   

[11] Indeed, if there were any effort from U.A. to provide morals education, you’d think Mineta would have seen some consequences for his egregious behavior ages ago.

[12] Honestly, I think the person who’s ventured the clearest moral stance on quirk use is Yoichi in his flashback, and he’s ludicrously absolutist about it, saying that quirks must only be used to help others, never for personal gain.   

My Press X to Doubt response to Nedzu’s contributions to quirk morality education aside, I’m fascinated by his mini-speech that follows:

It’s a great observation of humanity from one who sits just that little bit removed from humanity, and begs a whole series’ worth of questions about Nedzu’s position and his feelings about the species his intelligence has both enabled and required him to grapple with.  While he doesn’t specify exactly what sort of intolerance he has in mind, and the flow of the plot ties his words to the anti-hero sentiment amongst the civilians, we’re well past Chapter 220’s introduction of the CRC here, and have more to see yet on the treatment those with “villain” quirks are subjected to.

As one who was, himself, mistreated in a way that fundamentally would not have happened were it not for his (heteromorphic) quirk, yet whose quirk gives him a degree of insight about that very mistreatment, Nedzu is in an amazing position to opine on discrimination.  I frankly wish he got way more room to do it in.   

Chapter 325: 

The Ordinary Woman giantess gal returns to tell us that she was turned away from several shelters because they didn’t allow heteromorphs.  It’s hard to overstate how incredibly bad this is—the blatant discrimination of turning away an entire demographic during a national emergency.  And not just a national emergency, but one where the actual support personnel—heroes—are going to be concentrating around the shelters, consciously electing to leave minimal aid for people remaining behind in evacuated zones.  So like, when this is how bad it is, can it possibly be any kind of surprise that there’s a riot brewing, especially when there are villains stirring the pot behind the scenes?   

One thing that really, really gets me is the bit where Ordinary Woman says several shelters turned her down until she made it to U.A.  Remember how I mentioned that the strong implication of her original scene is that she’s still in her own city, only left her home that very night, and was attacked before she could reach a shelter?  If that’s so, then what in hell happened after Deku left her with All Might?    I’m so serious about this.  Did All Might just take her to the nearest shelter, drop her off at the door, and then drive off, so concerned about getting back to Deku that he left before he could ensure her safety?  That would reflect incredibly poorly on him, and put her right back in danger.  Though it would not be the first time he prioritized his mentorship of Deku over his other responsibilities, it would still make him look so bad that I’m doubtful that was Hori’s intended sequence of events.    The other possibility I see is that All Might did stay with her, driving her to a few different shelters before getting fed up and bringing her back to U.A., where he could be sure she’d be accepted.  This option looks almost as bad for a totally different reason: that even in the face of a refugee delivered to them by All Might himself, with everything the country owes him and the nigh universal love and acclaim he commands amongst the populace, people would still take one look at Josei-san and turn her away.    Of course, it’s also possible that I’ve just misinterpreted her initial scene, and she already had been to the several shelters, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Deku why.  Her silence on the topic would be its own brand of Relevant For This Essay, particularly given Deku’s baseline state—perhaps she doubted that he would believe her, or thought he might get defensive, if she told him.  That’s certainly the least awful of the options.    Still, I’d maintain that the way her story is framed—the way she was traveling on foot, the time she says she left vs. the time it was when Deku found her, how unlikely I think it is that there are multiple hero school shelters in timely walking distance,[13] the fact that she’s perfectly willing to tell him about her rejections when they meet again at U.A., etc.—suggests she hadn’t made it to a shelter yet when Deku turned up, and thus either All Might got unforgivably sloppy or there were multiple government officials overseeing shelters who were willing to be gargantuan bigots right to his face.   

[13] That’s if hero schools are the only shelters in use at the moment.  On the one hand, that feels improbable and unnecessary to me, given that HeroAca!Japan presumably has all the same emergency shelters IRL!Japan has now, and Jeanist’s phrasing in 306 suggests that hero schools are being added to the list of designated shelters, not that they are being designated the only shelters.  On the other hand, he does also say the heroes are looking to decrease the amount of area they, with their diminished numbers, have to cover, and specifically calls out hero schools' defensive capabilities and large campuses, while not independently mentioning shelters of the normal sort like I might expect if both were going to be in use.  For example, he could say something like, “We are asking people to report to their local emergency shelters, and will be opening hero schools as shelters to help with the increased burden.”  I invite readers to come to their own considerations on what’s more likely, but will say that if it is only hero schools being used as shelters, that obviously makes the whole “turning away heteromorphs at the door” scenario even more scandalous.   

The baseline dude who’s generally been the spokesperson for the anti-let-the-kid-back-into-school crowd asks Deku if everyone can go back to their old lives after this, if they let him in to rest up.  Deku, who has just been told that a woman he rescued was turned away from multiple shelters, reiterates that he and the rest of the heroes will “bring it all back.”  No matter when he promises this, he will never exhibit the slightest hint of awareness about what exactly he’s proposing to return.   

Chapter 327: 

Bakugou makes a conscious effort to call Deku by his given name instead of the derisive nickname of their childhood.  It remains to be seen whether he will follow through on that for the derisive nicknames he uses for everyone else, but for what it's worth, I have made it all the way from here up through the point at which he goes down to ShigAFO and have not had cause to jot down anything about him for the purposes of this essay yet. We'll see if he can keep it up through the epilogue!   

With Deku safely passed the fuck out, Jirou—a heteromorph, albeit not a hugely visible one—is the one to say that they and the rest of the heroes can’t just bring things back the way they were; they have to make things better.  Desperately wish Deku would pick up what Jirou’s throwing down here.   

Chapter 328:

328 gives us some cameos of international heroes, cameos from the third movie, World Heroes Mission. The one relevant to this topic is Big Red Dot, the Singaporean hero who the wiki claims is his country's #1,[14] and who appears to be a merlion heteromorph. And like, there is so much I could say about Big Red Dot and his status as top hero and heteromorph! So much!    I could talk about the merlion as a national symbol for Singapore, and how heteromorphs who just so happen to resemble local sacred/divine/fortunate animals in their regions might be treated differently compared to heteromorphs like Spinner or Shouji.    I could talk about the merlion's status as tourist attraction and subject of nationalistic poetry, and how that imagological history impacts Singaporeans' feelings about the merlion as cultural icon.    I could talk about the way the merlion's brand image is maintained under trademark by the country's national tourism board, and how that might relate to or impact Big Red Dot's image as a hero, particularly given that we have no idea what sort of metrics Singapore's HPSC equivalent uses to rank their heroes!    I'd love to talk about that, but I'm reluctant to do more than sketch out the above outline for two reasons, both profoundly Doylist.   

[14] The fandom wiki does not see fit to cite a source for this. I assume it's mentioned in the movie? Anyway, if he isn't Singapore's #1, the stuff I said is still relevant, just somewhat less pronounced.   

Firstly, I read Marvel comics growing up, and I am keenly aware that a tremendously common approach taken by superhero stories dealing with heroes from outside the author's country of origin is to just theme those international heroes after famous (e.g. stereotyped) aspects of their home countries. I highly doubt that whoever came up with Big Red Dot was thinking any deeper than "Singapore = merlion, ergo Singaporean Hero = merlion hero guy".   

Secondly, Big Red Dot is, first and foremost, an original character created for the anime, and the anime transparently, desperately Does Not Want To Talk About Heteromorphobia, so I highly doubt they're thinking about ways it might impact their movie OCs. Now, I know Horikoshi comes up with many of the designs of prominent characters in the movies, but I don't know how much he's involved in conceptualizing those characters. That is to say, did Studio Bones ask him for "a design for a top hero from a country of your choice, Horikoshi-sensei," "a design for the top hero of Singapore," or "a design for Big Red Dot, the merlion-themed top hero of Singapore"?

Suffice to say that if I were going to include BRD in a fanfic, I'd be full of things to say about him. For the purposes of this essay, though, I'll just raise some possibilities and then leave the reader to turn him around in their heads some and think about how he fits into the broader tapestry of the heteromorphic experience around the world.

---------

Come back in (probably) two weeks for what will hopefully bring this essay up through the hospital attack! We'll see after that if I want to continue on into Vigilantes or what-have-you.

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 13 - Right My Wrongs

Summary: Joel's trust issues are in full force as his typically stoic self-control begins to crack.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.9k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), slow burn, Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix it fic

“So this was just outta the goodness of your heart then?” It wasn’t so much a question from Joel, but a hurled insinuation that something sinister was at work.

Chapter 12 || Series Masterlist

“Joel?”

Glass shattered. The old grandfather clock in the corner chimed as the longer hand ticked into place at the top of the hour, the seven bells clanging out for what felt like an eternity. Your hair was tied tightly back into a long ponytail, a sweater that certainly didn’t belong to you hanging off your shoulder in the way that you liked, and pink speckled cheeks glowed in the orange light of the roaring fire on the hearth. Two wide green eyes were fixated on him, the lips he’d tried to memorize the feeling of slightly parted in shock, and when he began to drag his feet to close the distance between you, he stopped halfway. 

Maybe you’d stayed here for a reason. 

This was your way of letting him off easy. Or letting yourself walk the path of least resistance. He’d been down that road once before. He was easy to leave, he knew that already. Maybe he was destined for it. His final landing place. Alone. 

He hadn’t noticed the way his hand was slightly raised in your direction, reaching out for you in sheer unconscious desperation. The thudding of his heart against his ribs was almost nauseating, a rock forming in his throat as he averted his gaze to his boots, noting how filthy and water damaged they were as the dampness of his socks grew colder. He should have looked for a new pair at the swap shop, these had been past the point of no return for weeks. 

The final bang rang out as you collided against his chest, your arms wrapping around his middle as you pulled yourself into him, face buried in the blue fabric of the scarf that used to be yours. He’d never given it back. The gasping intake of breath before you let a shrill wail terrified him, your body collapsing as he secured you in his hold. 

“Wait…” he exhaled, noticing the room was now empty as his focus finally diverted off of you, your soaked eyes staring at him as you reluctantly pulled away. 

Your expression turned from confusion and rejection to comfort as he quickly ripped off his jacket and scarf, pulling you back in tighter now without the barrier of his winter gear. He could feel your heat now, the worn flannel of his shirt quickly dampened by the uncontrolled sobs you were still letting free, your body wracking and shaking in his refuge. You’d never cried like this. In fact, he’d barely ever seen you cry at all save a rogue tear rolling down a stoic face.

“I gotcha,” he cooed, face pressed into your hair, the strands catching on his beard as you nuzzled into his neck even closer. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, it was so quiet and meek it made his face burn as he pushed back his own flood of emotions.

Soft, fiery strands threaded between his fingers as he cradled your head, relief flooding through him from his fingertips as the knot in his chest finally released. The way you gripped him should have choked the life out of him, but it had the opposite effect. Feeling returned to his limbs, the constant ache he’d felt for months eased, and his forehead relaxed the tension it’d been holding onto in an attempt to stay grounded. It was like finding land after floating in the sea for weeks, and Tommy’s words rang out once again in his head, “Tell me the ground doesn’t feel more solid beneath those boots when she’s around.” It did. And he could feel it now more than ever. 

“I missed you,” you cried into his throat, and that finally had his face twisting and throat constricting. 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. Not ever. He cursed under his breath as one escaped tear rolled down his cheek and landed in your hair, his arms somehow pulling you closer. 

“Yeah, me too,” he murmured in response, his lungs able to expand past the point they’d been constricted to, “And Ellie.”

“Is she okay?” 

Soaked, swollen eyes stared up at him as you pulled away just enough to read his face. A dismissive ‘yeah’ lingered on the tip of his tongue at the sight of your distress, the red blotches on your cheeks and the tears caught in your lashes enough to send him to his knees. 

“I think it’s best we get you home,” he confessed, and although it wasn’t a straight answer, it was one you deciphered immediately, collapsing back against his chest.

His thoughts had constantly traveled to Ellie when they weren’t focused on you, there had been no reprieve even when his mind wandered. Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, especially knowing with you gone he was all she had left, but at least now he’d return with the outcome he never saw coming. She’d have you both back.

“C‘mere,” he pleaded in a gravely exhale, his hands cupping your jaw and gently lifting your head to see your face again, “I thought you were dead.”

The words tumbled out awkwardly, desperately, his forehead pressing to yours close enough that whatever air he was taking in came from you. He felt your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt at his sides and when you leaned up to nuzzle the tip of your nose to his, his eyes finally pinched shut. Your breath was fanning out against his lips chapped from weeks in the winter cold, your hair tickling against his forehead, and he took in every sensation begging his tired mind to memorize it this time. 

“Then why are you here?” you whispered, readjusting your grip and grazing along his waist.

“To bring you home.”

“Dead?”

All he could was nod. He’d needed closure. There was no way rest could have ever been found with you discarded out in the wilderness as if there wasn’t someone out there that needed you, that found solace in your presence in a room and nothing more, someone whose life you’d breathed new purpose into. He couldn’t have that. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” he sighed, a smile sneaking onto your face as he used your own words against you now, “Run off.”

“No more running.”

When you slid back into his arms and buried your face in the patches of his beard that crept down onto his throat overgrown from weeks of neglect, he knew it meant more than running in search of a fight. You were crying again, softer this time, your tears still hot as they rolled down the collar of his shirt. It was the aftershocks, the soft summer rain after a blustering thunderstorm, and when your lips softly pressed to skin long untouched, he knew you were his to protect now. 

“You need to eat,” you said after a final sniffle, pulling away and wiping your tears with the back of your hand before stroking along his jaw, “You lost weight.”

As your thumb brushed over the dip in his cheek reminiscent of your time on the road, he leaned instinctually into your touch, seeking it out as you slowly let your hand fall away. You didn’t leave him lingering for long, grabbing his hand in yours with a small smile and pulling him into the kitchen full of waiting eyes, Tommy the first to give a knowing grin. 

“Just in time,” Lee exclaimed, ladling soup into five bowls that were handed out before she was shooing everyone to the kitchen table.

“So,” Joel began as every spoon but his own began to clink against ceramic, “I appreciate all this, but…”

Despite confirmation of your well-being, he couldn’t let the questions stay unanswered. 

“Why is she still here?” he pressed, Tommy sitting up straighter as he recognized the drop in Joel’s tone as a warning. 

“We don’t have a map, Joel,” you answered quickly, just as honed into his anger’s cues as Tommy, “And it’s winter.”

“I found her not far from where I found you,” Corbin began to explain calmly, “Thought she was dead, but when I got closer I could hear wheezing. So, I brought her back here. Burning up with a fever, lungs filled with water and fluid. It was a bad case. I had some penicillin left from a few years back. Treated her and she somehow pulled through. Must’ve had something to fight for.”

“We lost our son to pneumonia a few years ago,” Lee tacked on, covering her husband’s hand with her own on the table, “It was nice to be able to help.”

“So this was just outta the goodness of your heart then?” It wasn’t so much a question from Joel, but a hurled insinuation that something sinister was at work. 

“You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Tommy interjected, “He’s had a rough go.”

“It’s okay,” Corbin assured, his tone just as even and soft, “Can’t be too careful in this world. Especially with something you care about. Isn’t that right?”

Wood scraping against wood had both yours and Tommy’s eyes knowingly closing, Joel’s heavy steps stalking out before you heard the door close behind him. His sour mood was surprising; while you understand his need for answers, his response to the truth wasn’t what you’d expected. 

“I’m sorry about him,” Tommy sighed, his chin dropping to his chest in shame, “He’s…”

“Oh it’s no trouble,” Corbin continued, “He’s overwhelmed, shocked. I understand.”

“He should be thankful, relieved—“

“Well, relief is sometimes overwhelming, isn’t it?”

Tommy and Corbin continued their conversation as you exited, slipping your boots on and finding Joel standing in the dark, the white snow around him reflecting and setting him aglow in the moonlight. You’d dreamed of him for months, just like this, washed in light trickling down from the heavens in the early hours of the morning when the world was quiet, when it was yours. He’d been happy there, swaddled more by your body than the blankets, his mouth swollen and kiss drunk, his face that always held so much tension finally relaxed. But those were only dreams, and the pain of reality had once again returned. 

“Joel,” you called as you approached, his head immediately turning to the sound of your voice, “Come back in—“

When his lips crashed down onto yours, bruising and cold, you could feel the words he couldn’t say. The months of panic, the way he’d questioned his will, his reasons, and how he feared the last hour had been entirely in his head, it was all mirrored in the way you desperately matched his motions. Your hands cupped the sides of his jaw, his beard softer than you remembered on your palms, your tongues dancing as whines and groans broke through the winter night’s silence. You begged for a sign it was safe to open your eyes, some guarantee that this was real. For now, it wasn’t worth the risk.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’,” he finally spoke, keeping his nose pressed hard enough against your cheek it bent at the tip.

“Me neither,” you sighed, “Is that Bill?”

The horse’s familiar face flashed through the barn window, Joel finally allowing the corner of his mouth to lift into a small smile as you peered up at him with wide eyes. All he did was nod as you took off in a run up the shoveled path and ripped the doors wide open, your fingers tangling into his mane as you pressed your nose to his. You hadn’t even been sure he’d made it back, though you knew at least Eugene would give it his best shot. 

“Hey buddy,” you whispered, a snort of his nose in response enough to have you in tears again.

Joel’s hand was rubbing along your back seconds later, his other patting Bill’s thick neck affectionately, “He’s a good boy. Pulled me outta a few bad places.”

“Hey, you two!” Tommy called from the front door, “Need to talk to you!”

In his agitated state, all Joel could muster in response was a low growl kept trapped deep in his chest. He looked utterly exhausted, his shoulders slumped and eyes sunken in. The dark circles you hadn’t seen since the road had returned, his cheeks just as hollow and his lips pale and dry. He looked every bit the haggard that you knew he felt. There was no way his body didn’t ache, tension contracting tired muscles even in his sleep and his head was throbbing, you could tell by the way his brow knit together in the center and his eyes squinted ever so slightly. He needed to eat and sleep after washing off weeks of panicked travel. 

“C’mon,” you urged, “we’ll see what he wants and then go lay down. I have a couch…”

Another tight squeeze was in your future reminiscent of the night in the patrol lodge, but even if you had the space you didn’t think you’d need it. Not tonight. 

“Look,” Tommy began when you and Joel stopped in front of him, “I know you two got other things you’re worried about. But we need to bring these people to Jackson. They helped us, we help them. They ain’t gonna make it much longer out here, Corbin’s hands shake so bad he can barely lift a damn spoon.”

“I already offered and they said no,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to stay warm, “Well, theoretically.”

“Well, it ain’t theoretical anymore. Talk ‘em into it. My conscience can’t take the thought of them dyin’ out here alone.”

“We are leaving tomorrow,” Joel tacked on in a firm and menacing tone, “No exceptions.”

“Millie, will you talk to ‘em? Please?”

“Tommy—”

“Yes,” you cut Joel off before he could fire off whatever resistance was brewing, “I’ll talk to them.”

While you understood the younger Miller’s sentiment and urgency, you felt Joel’s agitation more. All you wanted was refuge. The memory of sleeping pressed to his chest and wrapped in his unwavering hold has been the only way you’d found enough peace to rest throughout the last two months, the guilt and remorse of wasting the final days you’d had with him always heavy in your stomach. Your plan had always been to leave when the final frost had hit and you had a sense of where to head, but making it back to Jackson had never been the outcome you expected. It was the die-trying part that had given you some sort of solace. But here he was, weary from weeks of travel for a mission he’d considered doomed from the start and you were being pulled away.

You found your hosts in their kitchen cleaning up as they did every single evening. Lee was humming as she passed the clean dishes to Corbin who set them in their places, and as you went to speak you realized exactly what you were about to ask of them. This was their home. This is where they’d lived their lives well before the outbreak turned everything to ruin. They still had this, with a few modifications. Was there anything worth losing that? You wouldn’t know. 

“I know Tommy talked to you,” you began, your fingers wringing against your stomach, “but it is safer in Jackson. There’s food and electricity. You could bake again…and live. No patrols or infected, there’s dances and bingo. I don’t know what it’s like to have a home to leave behind obviously, but we’d take care of you.”

When only sympathetic gazes responded, you nodded, heading back outside to find Joel and Tommy in a heated argument. Every nerve in your body was frayed, you were hanging on by a thread, the thought of getting between the two of them with Joel as keyed up as he was just wasn’t in your cards. Defeated, you pulled yourself up the stairs to the room you’d called yours, a small pile of clothes folded neatly in the corner and a couch with a blanket the same as it was this morning. The clothes belonged to Corbin and Lee’s daughter, the room being used as storage after both of their kids’ departures in the years leading up to the outbreak. 

The old springs of the couch creaked as you collapsed, your head falling into your hands. The spaces between your fingers were soaked within minutes, your body shaking again as you tried to keep quiet to avoid breaking down completely again, the only thing you could hear was your labored breathing whooshing against your palms. 

“Hey,” a gruff voice heavy with concern broke through as rough, calloused palms gripped your wrists and hands, “Hey, look at me.”

You shook your head, he’d seen this blubbering mess enough for the day. At this point it was embarrassing. 

“Honey…” he sighed, pulling you into his arms and you were entirely unable to fight it. 

His neck was still cool from being outside with no coat, the chill a relief to your anger-heated cheeks. The weight of his head resting on yours kept you locked in place beneath his chin, your fingers curling into the flannel covering his chest as you finally let that trapped sob escape. 

“Why’re you cryin’?” he cooed into your hair, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back making you feel both ease and more despair. 

“Because I haven’t fucking cried in twenty years!” you snapped into his throat, voice hoarse, your lips grazing over his skin.

The floodgates had been opened. Before this—before him—they’d been steel-reinforced, impenetrable, but here as the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest helped calm you, the river ran freely. It was effortless the way he gripped the backs of your thighs and lifted you as he stood, taking your spot on the couch as he settled you into his lap, your body able to fully relax against him. Tension you’d been holding melted away, you were limp in his arms, and you knew he could feel it—the difference and all the weight it carried. The little ball you were curled into used to be saved for the toughest nights beneath whatever sham of a blanket you could find—alone—a safe space within yourself. There was no room for vulnerability, not anywhere in this world. Except for here. 

“I need you,” you mumbled, the truth setting something free inside of you.

His fingertips pressed harder into the skin of your side and you could hear his shuddering exhale and the way his throat caught in response.

“I’m here,” he assured, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“I need you tomorrow, too.”

With that admission you lifted your head, honeyed hazel staring at you filled with wonder and fear alike. It held an understanding that he knew what those words meant; it wasn’t only tomorrow, but the next day, and the next, and the one after that. 

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he whispered, his fingers brushing the soaked strands of hair glued to your face, your face grimacing as if you were gearing up to protest, “Now, you shot me and I’m here anyway. So, either I mean it or I’m just plain stupid.”

“Joel…” you groaned, not needing the reminder of what you’d done.

“You’re gonna have to laugh about that at some point, darlin’. It’s the only time my aim’s been better than yours. And I’m holdin’ it over your head.”

A small chuckle broke free much to your dismay, the smile on your face pressing against his lips as you grabbed the sides of his chin between your thumb and fingers. 

“There ya go,” he laughed as you pulled away, the kiss quick and easy, the urgency that it may be the last washing away, “I need to clean up before that fire goes out. How do you keep warm up here?”

“Little wood stove,” you said, gesturing to the corner of the room he hadn't had a chance to inspect yet, “I’ll get it going.”

Creaking stairs gave him away to Tommy settling in on the couch, “Left you some water in the pot. It’s probably still warm enough to use.”

“Appreciate it,” Joel replied, catching the thin, ratty towel his brother tossed his way, stripping down and wiping weeks of sweat and dirt off his skin in the small bathroom before swapping his clothes to the last clean set in his pack.

Tommy’s light snores were echoing through the living room by the time Joel emerged, and he took off his boots in an attempt to make his ascent back to you quiet enough to let his brother rest. When he reached the top of the stairs his heart skipped a beat as a shrouded figure caught his peripheral.

“Sorry about the scare,” Corbin apologized, his voice distant as he stared at something on the hallway wall in front of him, “She’s already fast asleep. I threw some logs on the fire.”

“I…I can’t ever thank you properly—” Joel began, the sentiment fumbling on his cynical tongue.

“You don’t have to. How old are you? 50?”

“Uh… 53.”

“So you remember the world before all this.”

“Yeah.”

“You had a life.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“How hard was it to walk from?”

He didn’t walk away from it. It was ripped away in cold blood. The image so permanently seared behind his eyes flashed; the blood, her purple shirt, those blue eyes he’d watched flutter closed as he rocked her to sleep for so many years going dull…

“Why do you ask?” he deflected, his eyes flicking towards the door you were hidden behind.

“I’ve lived here for forty years…” Corbin began, “My kids grew up here. That one there,” he pointed to a photo in an old frame right in front of his eyes, “That’s Pete. Pneumonia got him, his lungs were always a mess, couldn’t save him in time. And then Annie,” he slid his gnarled finger over to a young girl no older than Sarah was, “We dropped her off at college in San Francisco in August 2013. Never saw her again. These are the only walls they ever knew. And I wonder if they’re the only walls I ever want to see.”

“I understand.”

“I thought you might,” Corbin chuckled, giving Joel a knowing glance, “Tell me, Joel, is there a copy of The Song of Music in Jackson?”

“Yes sir, I think there is.”

“Well, I’d very much like to see that again.”

You were fast asleep when he crept back into the room, your face barely lit in the dim glow creeping through the window of the stove. The dusting of freckles on your face, the scar he’d watched heal from a bloody gash jagged and pink across your cheeks and nose, a stray section of warm, red hair tinged with white and gray laying across your lashes and brow, your choice of his coat to cover your body with instead of the blanket inches away, it all made him smile. His fingers brushed your eyes clear, tucking the rogue strands behind your ear before leaning down to press his lips to your temple before dragging the old blanket over the top of you.

As much as he wanted to curl up beneath you, beside you, anywhere he could feel your heat, he didn’t want to disturb you. Your day had been long enough, so the floor would do for what he hoped would be one last time. 

Chapter 14

Art by @natendo-art 🩵🩵🩵

[grumpy-gurgles]

I did a drabble with a fandom I'm in, that being Twisted Wonderland. I have never written for this fandom before, I'm scared shitless that someone might recognize my OC's name and call my ass out, and I'm slightly less terrified of this being horrendously out of character.

You can ask more about my OC but like. I probably won't be fully name dropping him for the sake of exposure, and I'll keep this out of the main tags as much as possible. Safety precautions. If my legitimate main gets exposed outside of this tummy stuff, I will end it all /hj

Drabble under the cut

OC x Az.ul As.hengrotto, made this in like a half hour so it's bad fyi I just Had A Thought it's 1am I already regret this-

Valentin is notorious for overworking. Whether it be his schoolwork, his alchemy work, inventing things.. he's always difficult to get settled down. He only seems to legitimately take a break at the times he has to, which is when he's sleeping, or when he's in too much pain to do so.

This, however, doesn't apply with hunger whatsoever.

His stomach doesn't have a clock anymore. He eats when he thinks it's a good time to, which doesn't end up often. And it's usually quick things that he can get through the next assignment or gadget for, and then leave his belly grumbling for more. And due to the quiet, almost shadow-esque nature he has among peers, nobody would really notice. Even if his stomach was loud, it'd probably be ignored or put onto someone else.

However, there's an exception to this. Usually one exception, sometimes three. Valentin's fellow dorm members in Octavinelle, specifically(on most occasions,) Azul.

Azul seemed to have a similar issue with overworking. That's how the two ended up bonding, though initially begrudgingly on Valentin's end of things. And Azul had very quickly caught onto the fact that Valentin doesn't have the healthiest habits with eating, because of how often his stomach kept betraying him whenever there was food around.

As a food sensitive person himself, Azul found himself having an issue with that. He initially thought of some contract that would rope Valentin into a proper eating schedule, instead of forcing him to work at the Monstro Lounge on top of everything else. But that wouldn't happen; Valentin wouldn't touch a contract, barely even the Lounge or the VIP room, with a 10 foot pole. He was smart enough to keep his grades up, and he was guarded enough to where Valentin seemingly had no problems! He definitely had problems, but exploiting those for the sake of getting the guy to have a solid meal in his belly also sounded bad. Because that wasn't a good move at all, especially since Valentin would probably try and punch him if he did that. Sevens, he's hard to handle. No wonder he's like a shadow in comparison to many other students. Dealing with this was a difficult task.

But then Azul had his lightbulb moment; ask him out to a little cafe thing! Not on a date or anything, just something to take his mind off it all. Maybe a contract would come later, if Valentin had more trust. He just had to ease the boy into it!

Azul had to drag Valentin to the first time they did this. Shockingly, Valentin let him, instead he chose to keep insulting him. But nothing that was really a sore spot for Azul, like his weaknesses, insecurities, or weight.

"You're an asshole," was one of the frequent phrases that Valentin muttered as his stomach snarled at him from the smell of various food places. But that day was the first day that Azul had heard Valentin's stomach being content and full, instead of upset and practically starved. Valentin was quite embarrassed about how loud his belly was as it digested the coffee and pastry he put in there, but only let that show when they were away from people.

It was the first time, that Azul was aware of, that Valentin had let someone in his brain for a bit. And it felt good, knowing that it was him.

This continued for a few more times, before the Leech twins were intrigued by their boss suddenly putting a solid chunk of attention into this guy. They joined in a couple of times, but usually they left it all alone.

So whenever Valentin starts with his horrendous schedule again, of only eating to get by with a grumbly stomach on too many occasions, Azul is there. It was initially going to be some manipulation tactic, maybe. But maybe it was more of a flirtation tactic the longer it continued for the both of them.

[punks-never-die205]

Unseen

afab!reader x Killer

CW: canon-typical violence, smooches, sexy times, second go at life try again style story, 18+ only

Summary: A Killer x Reader fan fic set in the One Piece universe, may still diverge from canon events. Starts prior to the time skip.

I don't have much to say, I wanted to write a story where the reader smooches Killer, so I did. It kind of ran away from me after that but I'm having fun with it =D

Available on Ao3 and Wattpad

Chapter 0: Life's a Beach

You tried to muffle the sound of your own breathing. The slim turn of moon in the sky was the only real light, since you'd left town some hours ago. You had been trying to shake Jabra, a terribly persistent member of CP9, with limited results. He wasn't as bad as Lucci, but that terror had been on a long-term undercover mission as far as you were aware. You hadn't seen him or Kaku for a few years now.

Being an orphan with a knack for fighting, you had spent some years being trained and raised by the World Government to eventually become a part of CP9. While most everyone else had leaned into it, there was something about the whole thing that never sat well with you. You gave the bloody nightmare the slip when you were 16, and you'd survived well enough in the years since. You had honestly lasted on your own for seven years longer than you had expected.

You couldn't hear anything around you aside from the sounds of nature, and crept along slowly in the dark of the night. You were picking your way through the underbrush for an hour before you heard the ocean. You let out a small sigh of relief; Jabra were a devil fruit user, and you could lose him completely in the water.

What you saw when you got to the shoreline wasn't empty ocean, but a big mean looking ship that had been anchored into the cove. You didn't need to see much to know it was a pirate ship. There wasn't any other reason to dock at the cove when the island's busiest pier was just a little ways further by boat.

Given that the front sail had a massive flaming skull on it, you figured the pirates associated with the ship were of some renown. You don't go showing off your jolly roger like that without having the balls to back it up.

You pondered your options quickly; you could stow aboard a pirate ship you knew nothing about, steal a rowboat from the same pirate ship, swim around it, or move on to a safer stretch of beach and risk being caught by Jabra.

There was a noise in the woods behind you, and you caught the not-as-distant-as-you-wanted voice of Jabra swearing. Your options were limited, and if you hit the water now, Jabra was going to hear you. Fortunately, you were good enough at geppo to get from the shore to the ship. You couldn't sustain it over long distances, but you just needed to clear a few dozen yards and that was easy enough.

You landed on the deck of the ship and peeked back toward the shore from behind the cover of the solid railing that bordered most of the deck. You focused everything you had into watching the beach, but even after several long minutes had come and gone, you hadn't heard or seen anything further from Jabra.

You put your back to the railing and looked around the ship. It was quiet, a few crew members seemed to be sleeping further away from you, and if anyone had noticed you there hadn't yet been a commotion. You tucked your long hair into the cap you were wearing and spent a moment to make sure you weren't going to bump into any surprises.

You could go high to the crow's nest, but that seemed like a great spot to run into someone. There were several levels up from the deck, and if you could slip to the side of the ship that was the not-shore-side, then you could geppo your way up to the top of those cabin levels and hopefully stay out of the way. You considered going below deck, but if you were seen you wanted to be able to beat a hasty retreat.

Pirates were preferred over CP9 agents, but you weren't so naïve as to think pirates were all reasonable people either. You crept low, continuing to use the railing as cover, and made your way to the stern of the ship, and shifted your way to the ocean-side things. With a full ship between you and the shore you felt a lot safer. If you were seen you could just throw yourself into the ocean, and the pirates would create all the noisy cover you'd need to give Jabra the slip.

Kicking off the air again you geppo'd your way up to the "roof" of this part of the ship and knelt low. Your senses were on high alert, half expecting the lookout from the crow's nest to have noticed you by now. If he missed you slipping onto the deck though, you might be home free. If you don't see anyone get on your ship, you're not going to pay attention to movement on your ship. It was a logical, but in this case, foolish way of thinking.

There wasn't a lot of moonlight either. Visibility for the best of people was limited in these conditions. After you had gotten comfortable in your new spot, you saw light spill onto the deck as someone with a lantern started walking around. Whether he was doing a security check or a bed check wasn't your concern. You kept the light in your peripherals and looked back to the shoreline.

You nearly hissed at the silhouette of Jabra darting around the tree line. He'd almost be mistaken for a wolf, if you didn't know that such beasts didn't exist on this island. You flattened yourself in your spot and resigned yourself to stowing away aboard a pirate ship. If you could stay out of sight for the voyage to a new island, then that would be best.

And if you got caught – well, you'd have to worry about that problem later.

You'd been dodging Jabra for four days. You'd barely had enough to eat and drink and your sleep was lacking. You tried to keep your eyes open, but sleep overtook you as you realized you weren't going to be arrested by CP9 tonight. The relief settled too deeply into your bones, and you should've known better.

[definitelynotaminion]

After four solid years of working on this series, here we are! Finally at the finish line! All that's left is Day 31: wildcard, so I'm super stoked and wanting to include my friends in this since they've supported me along this cracky, cracky journey...

I had to write sporadically since even I, prince of porn, must be in a certain headspace to write smut in general, much less kinky, filthy smut.

I started this series on October 02, 2020. On Ao3, the "Kinktober is 20/20" series, where I've been grouping these fics, is 82,269 words. I created a new pseud for this series, so that readers could differentiate my more serious works from the shameless hentai. I tested myself, wrote to the fullest extent of the kink, tested the boundaries of what's hot and what's not, and decided to be utterly shameless. Some pieces I love. Some, I can't believe I wrote, let alone published.

It's been a great, wonderful time.

From what was meant to be a series of unrelated one-shots exploring depravity, a number of actual series emerged.

A crumb or more - Where I joke that someone holding Sasuke down and fucking some sense to him might have prevented him from leaving the village, and then write Time travel!Sakura to do just that-- only it turns out surprisingly wholesome, with ot3 team seven time skip as a sequel. Astonishingly one of my favorite verses

King of the World (if I wanna be)- A series where Izuku gets a sex quirk. Stunningly, this is not a unique phenomenon for kinktober. I wrote more than one universe where Deku gets a DIFFERENT sex quirk. Amazing. In this series, he has a subtle mind control/hypnosis quirk that's like a "notice-me-not" spell, projecting an aura of "nothing to see/be concerned about" that lets him get into all sorts of mischief. It also serves to explain why Kacchan is Like That™-- literal years of being exposed to an uncontrolled "don't worry about it" quirk that prevents him from worrying about the consequences of his actions. It has six fics and is 23,447 words.

Love on top (baby it's you)- A two-part series where Sasuke is actually trans and not just Magically Given a Pussy for my own enjoyment (and yours).

Puppy Plays- Probably one of the most depraved series to come out of this experiment. MIND THE TAGS if you go here. When I wrote the first fic, I had to be cajoled for days to actually post it. When I wrote the sequel the day before yesterday, I posted it without any editing so I could hurry up and do my college homework, utterly unashamed. It's puppy play and it's noncon, Bakudeku (Dark Izuku).

And most recently, Konoha "Omega Verse" (Team Hole), which is not actually alpha/beta/omegaverse. It's just a free use/sex AU where one member of each team is designated as free use/fuck whenever and explores the social reality and worldbuilding of such a dynamic. Naturally, I chose Sasuke. For spice, the team omega uses a jutsu to give them a vagina, and any non-vagina-owners on the team use the reverse to get a dick. This keeps things nice and simple for the "use a member of your team like a flesh light for stress relief" agenda.

Describing these is wild. It's kinktober, though. Kinktober's gonna kink!

Aside from the series that developed, there are a number of one shots that were actually good. My personal favorite is probably the Shikamaru fic where everything actually is safe, sane and consensual-- all the way through a gangbang where he gets to be a pillow princess.

Honorable mentions: the Sakura/Hinata fic where Hinata is jealous of ot3 team seven and Sakura shows her a good time; my first foray into actual omegaverse, with Kiribaku (cute); these two hot wing (dabi/hawks) fics that actually have really nice writing and icarus vibes; an actually wholesome bakudeku fic where they're pro heroes and pass OFA back and forth with bloody kisses after a fight; and some post-canon wholesome team seven ot3 where they'd rather make out then go to a dinner party.

-

Now: the wildcard space. I've considered continuing one of the favorite series. I've considered finding a different kinktober prompt-list and finding one that wasn't represented in my original list. I've considered making a poll of entirely friend/tumblr submissions of ideas.

I want it to be fun! But also a big finale to wrap up this series I've spent four years of my life on. I feel like it has to be so kinky, so ridiculous, and so much fun that it neatly showcases what kinktober's all about-- or at least, what it has been all about, for me.

In light of that, and me still decided, feel free to send in ideas-- ship ideas, opinions, random thoughts, kinks you'd like to see, a kink I already used that you'd like to see more of--- the sky's the limit. I just want to do this with the input of the people who have read and enjoyed the series, and the input of my friends who have supported me along the way. And thrown things at me. And squealed. And blushed. You know who you are.

[liyawritesss]

Hey luv, I was wondering if you took requests and if you do I'd kindly like to request something. I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a K/DA Akali x female reader where they were childhood friends but lost contact over the years and when they reunited at a party, they did some catching up and Akali discovered that the reader is a songwriter and in a way maybe a singer but just doesn't have the courage the put the songs out into the public yet. Throughout catching up they grew feelings for each other and didn't want to admit it to themselves or each other but the other members of K/DA were noticing it and well they planned a little something to help them confess and then they got together.

If you can't do it that's ok. 😊

Have a good rest of your day/night luv💕🫂

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

Pairing: K/DA!Akali J. Tethi x Black!NoLabel!Reader

Genre: Fic

Synopsis: In which Akali realizes the love she expressed in that snowy playground all those years ago has never faded.

Warnings: minor cursing, a bit of interpersonal homophobia, lyrics are from the song "This Town" by Niall Horan, I do not own any part of the song or lyrics they're just in use to creative purposes!!

A/N: I mayyyy have strayed away from the original plot at but at the end 😬 it was starting to get too long and I didn't wanna keep letting it sit in the drafts. I hope you stoll enjoy!!

Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, went each end of the pen as it connects to the solid wood of the studio desk. On said desk, a half written song with only a base guitar melody and a few lines of a verse lie forgotten, and it’s writer sat on the studio couch, gazing into the snow-ridden park below the agency building. It’s winter, and if not for the imagery outside, one could distinguish the season by the volume and vibrations from the boiler room’s furnace that rung throughout the walls. Despite the warmth that flooded the building, the wild haired girl still had on a fleece hoodie and jogging pants set, with thick socks to keep her feet warm, and the hoodie sleeves long enough to cover her freezing fingers.

Akali had been in K/DA’s shared studio since the early hours of the morning, and had barely gotten her song done. The song was important, as it would be her solo for the upcoming album, and with only two days left to submit the final rendition, the pressure was high. She’s already gotten worried looks from Ahri and Kai’Sa, and most recently, a scolding from Evelyn about ‘this is not who we are’. Management, though they’ve always had faith in the firecracker, were also showing signs of doubt, as they’ve never encountered Akali in this state of mind before. And if she knew how to combat this form of seasonal depression, Akali would have told her bandmates and the company to not worry.

Everyone was a bit on edge.

Akali is entranced by the snowflakes that fall from the sky. They remind her of her youth, when she would play in the neighborhood playground after martial arts lessons, unphased by the cold, as winter was her favorite season. Her gaze was fixated on the playground in the park below, and from her imagination, the young rapper reminisced on the simpler times, when her childhood was pure, and her love was innocent.

“‘Kali, stop it, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” a young voice echoed from Akali’s brain as her mind made a turn down memory lane. A young Akali, no older than six or seven, stood high and mighty on top of the jungle gym, ready to show off her newest trick to her best friend, who stood worried on the snow covered ground. She should be used to Akali’s recklessness by now, but Akali never ceases to amaze the other young girl.

“If I make this flip, you have to promise me something, [Y/N]!” Said Akali, ignoring the worry her friend displayed beforehand.

“What is it?” replies [Y/N], curiously.

“You have to promise to marry me!” Akali replies in a confident tone, preparing herself for the flip of her life, while [Y/N] deadpans into her hand. “Just don’t hurt yourself, stupid!”

Of course, Akali lands her flip expertly - and [Y/N} lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding - and as she stands up straight, the wild haired girl holds out her hand, pinky-finger pointed out and ready to seal the promise.

“Pinky promise you’ll marry me, [Y/N]?”

“Girls don’t marry each other, ‘Kali, they marry boys.” [Y/N] says matter of factly, causing Akali’s lips to form a point at her best friend. “Says who?”

[Y/N] paused, thinking for a moment. “My mom and dad. Don’t yours?”

A bored ‘booooooo’ left Akali’s lips, chapped by the cold. “Okay, fine - if we don’t get boyfriends when we’re older, then we’ll marry each other. How does that sound?”

[Y/N] paused once again, taking a longer moment to think about her answer. After a minute or two, she shrugged, and interlocked her gloved pinky with Akali’s bare one. “Okay! I’ll marry you then!”

A knock on the studio door brought Akali’s trip through memory lane to a pause. With haste, she got up from her seat on the couch and opened the door. Standing in the doorway was her bandmate, Kai’Sa, and the sight of the main dancer made Akali’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You’ve been in here for a while, yknow,” Kai’Sa began, “anything yet?”

Akali shook her head in defeat. “I haven’t had writer's block in a minute. This shit is killing me.” She said, rubbing her eyes that burned with exhaustion.

“Well, I have an idea….”

Normally, Kai’Sa’s ideas are very good and beneficial, but it was something about the way that the dancer said that sentence that sparked a sense of mischief in her gut. “And what is this idea?”

“Let’s say that a new club opened up in Hongdae,” Kai’Sa started, and though Akali knew where this was going, she found herself leaning against the doorframe to entertain her bandmate’s ‘hypothetical’ question, “aaaannnd let’s say that I got us some free access tickets into the VIP show tonight, that’s displaying a new singer-songwriter-producer with a new single performance….would you be interested?”

It’s always an adventure when Kai’Sa finds things to do in the cities that K/DA visits. She’ll ask so innocently, dragging the other girls into her random, exciting rendezvous, which always tend to spark new inspiration for music, dance and entertainment for the group. Kai’Sa didn’t have a mischievous bone in her body, but in certain situations, her adventures would end in an intense night of clubbing, drinks, and not-so-appropriate dancing.

“You’re trying to get me inspiration to write?”

“Maybe. But you’ve also had yourself holed up in here for a week, and I think you could let loose a little. We can’t have our hidden gem down in the dumps-”

“-so close to a comeback?”

“-in general, ‘Kali.”

Akali took in Kai’Sa’s words. Normally, that’s how her writer’s blocks would be cured - a quick trip to an underground event would have the rapper in good spirits in no time at all. However, a club is different than an underground event - theres more people that know people, with less etiquette and more entitlement - which is why Akali normally strayed away from those kinds of scenes.

However, it was two days before her shit was due, and she was becoming desperate to get something on the page.

“I can be ready in an hour.”

The heavy base blasting through the walls of the club has Akali rethinking her decision of taking on Kai’Sa’s offer. There were many more bodies than she anticipated, many more flashing lights and floating drinks. She thinks she’s underdressed - her simple pair of ripped jeans, combat boots, white tee and black cap making her stand out like a sore thumb. Paired with the various rings on her fingers, wrist watch and silver chains and her signature dogtags, the rapper felt as though she was going to meet up with a friend, not enjoy herself at a club. A hand went to adjust her cap a little over her eyes to avoid unwanted eye contact with anyone who wasn’t Kai’Sa.

“Relax, girl,” said the main dancer, as Kai’Sa placed a hand on Akali’s back, “I can feel the tension radiating off of you.”

“It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a setting like this,” Akali responds, “It’s…a lot more people than I thought.”

“Don’t worry, just follow my lead.”

“Follow your lead where, exactly?”

“To the DJ Booth.”

Of course, it was like Kai’Sa to get in good with the DJ’s so that she could request a hefty amount of songs without an additional charge. She was skillful like that - and almost never dropped her band’s name for the benefit of her own.

Through the mass of bodies already tipsy from colourful shots and club music, Akali and Kai’Sa made their way to the back of the club, where the DJ booth was located, as well as the VIP section. All Kai’Sa had to do was flash her phone at the overly-buff bouncer for the two to be let in. Akali didn’t question it - she was too busy trying to get a feel for the club. She barely noticed when her hand was let go of, as Kai’Sa went to hug the DJ who had invited her to this event.

“‘Kali, this is the guy I was telling you about,” said the main dancer over the blasting music, to which Akali shook his hand out of respect. Small talk was made, until the DJ leaned into Kai’Sa’s ear, pointing in another direction while saying something. At that point, Akali had been babysitting a small fruity drink, having grown a bit comfortable into this new setting.

The dancer had leaned over to Akali next to relay the message: “This is the new rising artist I was telling you about earlier! They’re about to perform!”

Akali shifted her gaze from her bandmate to the stage, and suddenly, the music that was so deafening became a muffled memory, as the rapper took in the presence that was on the blue and purple accented stage. A face she had not seen in years, now appeared before her with a new sense of maturity and age.

It was [Y/N] up there, and what’s more, she was singing.

The next four minutes or so was a blur to Akali, and she was only able to refocus when Kai’Sa had given her a gentle shake on the shoulder, warning her about the new arrival to the VIP section. The arrival being [Y/N], who’s first move was to hug the DJ, who she could only assume had some relation to her. She shook Kai’Sa’s hand, and when it was Akali’s turn to be greeted, the rapper was still dumbstruck by the beauty in front of her.

Akali and [Y/N] made eye contact, and for a moment, it seemed like the world paused. The club and it’s loud, pulsating music became muffled, and the only thing Akali was focused on was the woman before her. It felt like a dream, really, the way everything died down around her and how her focus zoomed in onto the singer who was approaching her for a hug-

Shit, [Y/N] was coming in for a hug. She was coming in for a hug and Akali was standing still like an idiot. It wasn’t until the rapper felt the warmth from the other spread throughout her body that she was able to react.

“Holy shit, it’s been ages!” (Y/N) says into Akali’s ear, thankful of the close proximity so that she didn’t have to yell. “You’re a big shot now! How’ve you been?”

The rest of the night consisted of the two catching up on their lives prior to this (with subtle pop-ins from Kai’Sa, who’d taken to entertaining herself on the dance floor with whoever was willing to dance with her). There exchange of phone numbers and socials, and when the club finally became unbearable for Akali (and Kai’Sa having downed one too many shots), the two separated with a promise to meet up again.

Akali lays on her bed, lost in the thought of you. Emotions that had been unknown to her for some time had begun to swirl up again - emotions she believed she had pushed down long ago when circumstances caused her and (Y/N) to separate in their youth; but she was back.

She was back, and she was gorgeous, and Akali was falling in love all over again.

The next thing she knows, Akali is up again at the crack of dawn, where the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon, and with her sudden alertness come the adrenaline she had been missing for her songwriting. Off went the blankets that covered her thin frame as she frantically stumbled over to her desk, littered with various papers of songs past, music sheets, and other instruments of music creation. The rapper managed to get a pencil steady in her hands and a clean sheet of paper, and began to write feverishly. She wanted to get it down before the inspiration was lost again. She did not look up from the paper until she deemed the song done, and when she finally did, the sunrise had taken it’s place upon the horizon. Akali found comfort in the vibrant oranges, soft yellows, and lazy purples that painted the morning sky, the blanket of night being stripped away for a brand new day.

A new dawn, a new day. Akali felt at peace in this moment.

Akali nods her head at Ahri’s question, anxiety shaking her bones like the cold from the winter that blanketed the city.

“-and you said you wrote this, this morning?”

This song was all or nothing.

“It’s different from you, ‘Kali,” said the blonde woman as she examined the piece of paper with various scribbles of words into stanzas, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, “but I think it’s beautiful. Did you have a composition?”

“Uh, well- yeah, but not recorded,” replies the rapper as she gestures over to the guitar that laid against the wall of the studio, “I can play the chorus?”

Ahri looks back to Yasuo, the bands producer, who simply shrugs, “I don’t see why not. We can worry about recording it later for submission.”

Akali, in an attempt to shake off her anxiety, grabs the guitar, positions it on her lap, and fiddles with the tuning keys to get the instrument in the right tune to play. There’s a moment of hesitance, in which she glances to Yasuo and Ahri, who patiently wait for Akali to play.

“Take you’re time,” Yasuo encourages, “you can’t rush art, after all.”

Akali nods, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath to ground herself. The image of (Y/N) appears in her mind, and before the rapper knows it, she begins to play:

And if the whole world was watchin’

I’d still dance with you

Drive highways and byways

To be there with you

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

You still make me nervous

When you walk in the room

Them butterflies, the come alive

When i'm next to you

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

Akali could hear the pumping from her heart furiously in her ears. She slowly peels her eyes open to see her bandmate and producer giving applause to her demonstration of the on-the-fly composition she just did.

“That was marvelous, ‘Kali!” announces Ahri, “That has to be at the top of the track list- Yasuo, it just has to be!”

She’s tugging at the older man’s green cardigan in excitement, which makes both Akali and Yasuo chuckle at her child-like behavior. “I agree, it’s definitely a good song,” He adds on, taking a sip from the coffee he had been nursing in his hand for a while, “‘Lover Girl’ Akali J. Tethi has a ring to it.”

“Please, stop, I’m not a lover girl,” the rapper whines, overwhelmed by the swell of compliments from the two as she lowers the bottom of the guitar onto the floor, taking to resting her chin on the top of the handle with her hands adding cushion to the wooden instrument, “and- I mean, I guess it’s good. I mean- I know it’s good, but…”

“We need the inspiration details!” Ahri asserts, dying to know what caused her bandmate to create such a beautiful piece. “Is it about something? About someone…?”

“Uuuhhmmm…” it was a futile attempt to stall, but the smile that painted Akali’s face gave her away completely. Ahri’s squeal and insistent tapping on the arm of her chair urged Akali to continue.

“Okay, so- there’s this girl…” The rapper began, her head tilting slightly to the side as she tried to find the best way to tell this story. “We’ve been friends since we were little…and I loved her. But we ended up separating- she moved away right before we were about to start middle school. But, last night- when Kai took me to that club, I saw her. I saw her, after so long. And I got to hug her- to hold her again, and- and everything came back to me. She’s one of the reasons why I started music; and when I hugged her, I just- I just fell in love all over again. Nothing had changed and- fuck, this is so embarrassing to say…”

There was a moment of silence. Ahri and Yasuo looked at each other, then back to the obviously love-struck rapper. “Akali, you’re in love.”

“Yeah, I got that part down - how do I deal with it?”

“You go after her?” Yasuo suggested, sarcastically albeit.

“I can’t just do that!” Akali retorted.

Yasuo shook his, mumbling something about how ‘young people are so dense, before speaking up again, “Look- the foundation is there. You have history. You just wrote a song about her. Besides anxiety, what’s really stopping you from finding this young woman and telling her you love her?”

“Uh, my pride if she rejects me,” Akali answers matter of factly, “and do you even have experience in order to give love advice?”

“That’s besides the point,” Ahri interrupts, holding out her hands to cease the two’s back and forth.

The blonde vocalist directs her gaze onto the young rapper, who she’s seen grow up so much in the past few years since their debut. There’s a moment of thought before she speaks. “Akali, lets think of it this way; do you want to be the girl who just writes the love songs, or the girl who acts on them?”

There’s a beat that passes. Then, Akali’s phone rings. She checks the caller ID, and it’s none other than (Y/N). She looks back at Ahri and Yasuo, who give her looks of approval.

“I think we can finish up the submission paperwork for you,” Ahri reasons, “you should probably take that.”

Akali rises from her seat, hurriedly propping the guitar against the wall, much more sloppily compared to its original position, and rushes out the door to answer her phone.

[billthedrake]

THE BULL (PART SEVEN)

Kevin really enjoyed the weekend get togethers with Mike. The trooper even came over a second time, in the middle of the week, when he'd traded his shift with another trooper. The sex was scorching hot, as Mike explored giving Kevin extended rim jobs, or Kevin worked on edging Mike orally. They'd have marathon sessions that allowed Paul to cum two or three times. Or they'd have a quickie fuck that was every bit as hot, and Mike would instruct Paul to felch out the freshly deposited load from Kevin's hole.

Paul felt like he was on cloud nine. He'd had fantasies about this, but this threeway situation with Mike the Bull was surpassing his dreams. The more he got into this cucking.... the more all three men explored the dynamic, the more his fantasies went wild. He'd thought watching his husband get fucked by another dude would take the edge off his desires, but it just seemed to feed them instead.

But he noticed that he and Kevin were having sex less on their own, during the week.

Kevin had noticed, too. "Babe," Kevin started one night as they sat watching TV, "What do you think of taking a break from Mike for a while?"

Paul looked over, both relieved and concerned. "OK. Anything wrong?"

Kevin nodded thoughtfully. "I love the scene, and I know it turns you on like crazy.... It's just... I don't want us to lose sight of us, you know?"

"Yeah, Kev, I do." Paul scooted closer to his husband and put his arm around his shoulder. They met in a soft kiss. Then another. Soon they were making out hot and heavy on the couch, feeding off each other's libido. Shirts came off, then pants.

"I want you to fuck me, Kevin," Paul gasped. It had been a long time since he'd bottomed for his man, and he was in the mood to turn the tables.

Kevin nodded. Topping didn't excite him as much as bottoming but he loved when Paul got in a horny mood like this and was happy to oblige. They made their way to the bedroom and got onto the bed, where they writhed against one another naked and excited, until Kevin slicked up his dick and Paul straddled his waist. Without ceremony, Kevin pushed up into his husband's eager hole.

"Oh fuck," Paul growled, "That's it, Kev. Fuck me, man."

Kevin grinned and pushed up all the way in. And again. Paul rode him like that for a while, then they rolled over so Kevin could get on top. The fuck got faster and harder till Paul's nuts seized and cum shot out all over his hairy chest, just before Kevin unloaded inside him.

The two kissed, still feeding off the excitement of the sex.

"Love you babe," Kevin said.

"Love you too, Kevin. So much."

***

Kevin was the one to break the news to Mike. No, they weren't calling things off, but they just needed a little time as a couple. Mike said he understood, and he did. The worst thing that could happen in a cucking set up was for the couple to have any doubts. He wanted Kevin and Paul solid, at least in their relationship. If he had to step away for a bit, so be it. There was a chance he wouldn't hear from these guys again, he thought, but he hoped things would pick up again.

Surprisingly, the state trooper relished his newfound free time on the weekends. He put forth the extra energy in working out, including running, which wasn't his favorite exercise. He reconnected with a couple of buddies he'd had to blow off for plans before.

The main downside was his horny state. Without a reason to hold off on release during the week, he found himself jacking off twice a day, at least. Imagining Kevin Connors' ass or Paul Stanson's salt-and pepper hair as he out a thick cop load from his husband's hole. He played in his head the kind of degrading things Greg and Joe got off on. Paul and Kevin weren't into that, and maybe that was a healthy thing. He wanted these guys to stay together unlike the other two, and maybe their protectiveness, even in the cucking, was what made it work.

It was the third weekend without fucking Kevin and Mike was tempted to find a hookup online. But he'd remembered his promise to Kevin to stay clean and be open about fucking other men. He didn't want to mess up the dynamic he had going on with his fuckee.

It was a message from Kevin that kept him going. Friday as he was getting off shift. "Hope you're doing well, Bull," was all it read.

Mike smiled. He wasn't sure if Kevin was fishing for a meetup, telling him things were back on. But he didn't want to push it, either. He thought of a suitable reply. "All right, Daddy. Doing as well as a horny Bull can be." A hint that things could be going better, if he was back fucking Kevin.

He got a smiley face reply. Then "I'll be in touch, man. Take care."

He thought maybe the tease would frustrate him all weekend. Instead it lifted his spirits.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon and Paul was fucking Kevin missionary on their bed. Not hard, not slow. The two men were taking their time but enjoying the sex.

"You like that, Kev?" Paul growled as he thrust in and elicited a groan from his incredibly handsome husband. "Like your man's dick railing you?"

Kevin nodded. "I do babe. Love you dick. Only... it doesn't go as deep as Mike's does."

A lump formed in Paul's throat. He hadn't expected that. The last month had been about him and Kev reconnecting. No cucking, no sex talk along those lines even. The surprise reintroduction turned Paul on like crazy. "Yeah, Kev, you miss his cock?"

Kevin sighed, excited, from the fuck and from the knowledge that Paul wanted this too. It had been on his mind the last couple of weeks. He'd tried to put it out of his head, but the fantasies kept coming back. He'd even started reading the stories that Paul had sent him, and sought out more.

"I do. Big cop cock. Knows how to satisfy me."

"Oh god," Paul groaned, thrusting hard into Kevin now.

"Keep fucking harder, Babe. You know you can't hit the spot he does, no matter how hard you fuck me."

"Jesus, Kevin," Paul cried in a tone that said he was frustrated, only that this was turning him on.

Kevin kept at it. "You know he's more of a man than you, don't ya?"

Paul nodded. He was THIS close to coming yet somehow orgasm was just out of reach.

"I'm gonna invite him over to fuck me good. Show you how a real stud fucks."

"Please," Paul gasped.

Kevin was taking a chance, but he went further. "He's gonna show you how worthless you are, you and your small dick."

Paul's body seized up and he came hard into Kevin, his face red and muscles tense. His dick was sore he came so hard.

Kevin stroked off to his own finish, just seconds behind.

He thought there'd be lingering guilt as they uncoupled but instead Paul looked on gratefully, a smile washing over his face. "Oh God thank you for that Kevin. That was amazing."

Kevin smirked, feeling strangely powerful over his own husband.

After they'd cleaned up, Kevin found his phone and texted Mike.

***

Mike had other plans that weekend but the following Sunday afternoon he showed up with his duffel bag and dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, with a baseball cap. He'd not jerked off in six days and his prick was crowbar hard in his crotch.

Paul answered the door. "Hi man. Long time, no see," he greeted, pulling the muscular trooper into a quick hug then ushering him inside.

"I know man," Mike said, sauntering in. He was so horny and being back at the Stanson-Connors residence had him keyed up in anticipating sex. "Hope you guys have been good."

"Oh, yeah, we have. Glad to have you back, though."

"Fuck, I'm glad to be back."

Paul smiled. He knew how much he was into this threeway scenario, and how much Kevin had been getting into it. But seeing this bull himself excited was a nice part of it. It was a strange kind of vulnerability on Mike's part.

Kevin's eyes widened as he saw Mike enter the living room. It had been so long, over a month, and the young cop looked hotter than ever. Like he'd put on some more muscle or at least toned up his existing bulk. He looked both big and trim. Even the way he sauntered into the room was hot to watch.

"Hey Daddy," Mike winked and greeted the 48 year old DILF, who was freshly showered and dressed casually in T-shirts and shorts.

"Hi Bull," Kevin smirked, feeling his heart pound. He looked over at Paul, a little embarrassed by how visibly excited he was to have Mike McCullough back in their home. Fucking him, doing whatever he had planned for Kevin that weekend. They'd invited Mike to stay over two nights, if he wanted.

Only Paul looked on with a smile, looking between his husband and the bull. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I see."

"And the dick harder," Mike said, his gaze not wavering from looking Kevin Connors in the eye. He spoke more softly, as if he were addressing Kevin alone, though Paul could hear just as well. "How you been Daddy? Your husband been taking care of ya?"

Kevin nodded, excitement forming a lump in his throat. "Yeah, Bull. Not as good as you, though."

Mike lips curled into a sneer of a smile. "He doesn't have what I got, Daddy. You know that."

Paul looked on, feeling trapped and excited at the same time. He and Kevin had played with some humiliation talk the last week, but he knew his husband was hesitant to go there with Mike. But he and Kev had talked about going there for real this weekend. He wondered how far they'd venture this time.

"I knew the first time you pushed that cock of yours in me, Bull. I knew I had a superior man in charge."

Paul gulped. Each sting of the words turned him on. But he held off touching his crotch.

Mike was pleasantly surprised at the turn of events. That Kevin had embraced the humiliation talk and was running with it, full on. The trooper unzipped, slowly, making a show of it. He reached in and pulled out his erection. Long, fat, throbbing. It was fully engorged and dripping sap from the head. Mission accomplished, he looked back up at Kevin. "This what you missed, Daddy?"

"Yes sir," Kevin nodded his head. He wasn't sure whether to go further. But he did. "Only it's more than your cock. It's you. All of you." The older man was turned on like crazy as he stood there, erect in his shorts but standing in a deferential pose. "You're younger, got more muscle, got more confidence. You know how to fuck better than Paul, too." He blushed as he said the last part particularly.

Paul moaned. He tried to stay silent and let this scene play out but he couldn't help himself. He felt dizzy from horniness.

Mike grinned and cocked his head toward Paul, still looking at Kevin. "The cuck likes it."

"My husband likes being reminded how worthless he is." Kevin smiled now, happy to be taken into this deeper level of cuckoldry with Mike. "I can't believe I waited over a month for this," he breathed.

"You missed me, Daddy?"

"Fuck yeah." Kevin finally stepped up, slowly, till he was close to Mike. Then reached out, touching not that large phallus but the man's strong chest. "Big strapping young cop... you know how to take care of another man's needs, too."

Mike smirked. "What do you need, Daddy?"

"I need a real man, Bull."

Their mouths met for their first kiss of the day. Heavy, tongue-forward.

"Mmm... Daddy's hungry," Mike growled. His hands possessively gripped Kevin's DILF ass, needing it.

"So hungry, Bull," Kevin said in a deep low voice. "I need you to fuck me good."

Paul swallowed, feeling the lump of excitement forming in his throat. He wasn't sure if it was the month absence but the intensity of the two men in front of him seemed deeper than befre.

"I'll fuck you right here on the living room floor, Daddy. Fuck you while your worthless husband looks on." Mike was rapidly crossing the line in to taking on the humiliation talk, but Kevin didn't balk in the least.

"Please. You stole me out from under his nose, you get my ass wherever you want."

"Fuck," Mike growled, uncharacteristically feeling out of control in his lust. He turned to Paul. "Go get the lube, cuck," he ordered. Already he was undoing Kevin's shorts and reaching in to feel the bare buns. Damn, he'd missed this perfect daddy ass all right.

Paul wasted no time fetching the lube out of the bedroom. He wondered if he and Kevin would have to stock a tube in each room of their place, to satisfy Mike's desire to fuck Kevin. The idea excited him.

When he got back to the living room, Kevin was already nude and on all fours on the floor. Mike crouched behind and was munching his butt excitedly.

"That's it Bull, get that tongue in there. Please. So good." Kevin looked up and saw Paul standing there, lubricant in hand. Clearly horny, looking down at the couple. Kevin got a smirk on his face. "You know this is why he took your place right?"

Paul felt a rush of excitement. Each wave seemed to be worse than the other, and he felt his prick drip in his shorts.

Kevin continued. "He knows how to treat my ass. He knows how to take care of me, babe. You never could."

It was sex talk but it stung Paul. Stung and turned him the fuck on. "Jesus, Kevin."

Kevin was getting into the zone now, feeling the feedback loop between the sensations of Mike's expert rim job, the emotional dynamic between him and Paul, and the cuckold fantasies, the stories he'd been reading and sharing with Paul. It's what pushed him to go further.

"You get off being cucked, Paul. Hell, you'd be happy if I cut you off. I got a Bull to satisfy me now, so I don't need your dick any more."

Mike pulled back. He almost didn't want to pull his attention from this perfect ass in front of him, Kevin's crack all soaked in his spit so the soft hairs matted down, almost in a pattern around the man's pucker.

But this turn of dynamic between the married couple surprised him. Surprised and excited him. He leaned back looked up at Paul, who was meekly standing, erect in his shorts, nodding.

"Yes," he said to Kevin softly, then looked at Mike, almost embarrassed and shell shocked.

Mike felt a surge of confidence rush through him. He undid the buttons in his shirt, revealing his large, built chest and an abdomen tauter than a month ago. "Cuck," he spat out derisively. "Come here and lube my cock up. It's about all you're good for."

The trooper's large prick was already jutting out, heavy, firm and dripping like crazy. Mike undid his jeans and pushed them down mid thigh as he watched Paul carefully dribble the lubricant on his stalk.

Paul had a close view now as Mike pressed that massive dick down and wedged it right into Kevin's pucker.

"Aw yeah!" Kevin growled, his voice deep and sexual. "Get in there. Get that cock in me Bull."

Mike pushed further in, slow and steady, relishing the tightness but surprised how easily Kevin's hole was submitting. He knew the bottom daddy was worked up like crazy. This was going to be an intense fuck, all right.

Kevin braced his upper body with his strong arms and hiked his ass back on the final inch of the top's dick. "Missed that ass, officer?"

Mike gripped Kevin's hips and held still, breathing to keep his orgasm from coming too quickly. "Hell yeah, Daddy. I did."

Kevin was feeling good. Real good. Not on the edge of cumming like Mike but he was keyed up for a weekend of hot sex. He just hoped he could keep up with this young buck's stamina. He felt the first real thrust, hard and deep, into his guts. Mike McCullough was definitely turned on, maybe like never before.

"Fuck me, Bull. Get back into your property." A couple of more thrusts came, faster, more instent.

Paul looked on, wide-eyed, as his prick leaked into his shorts, soaking a wet hole in the fabric. He'd never seen Mike lose control, but here the 25 year old stud was fucking like a teen losing his virginity. Humping wildly, Covering over Kevin's back as he rutted faster and faster.

For a minute Paul was concerned about Kevin, whether he could take the assault from such a large dick. But his husband was braced for the fuck, stoic almost.

"This fuck's all about you, Bull," he urged. "Get that nut in me. A month's too long."

It had been too long and Mike's self-denial was erasing any control or lasting power he might have. He felt his balls give up heavy spurts, in succession, inside Kevin Connors. Inside his perfect Daddy. It was one of the best orgasms of the young trooper's life, and he rode it out, holding on to Kevin's body as he orgasmed.

"Fuck," he hissed after the final aftershocks, kissing Kevin's neck softly, then raising up and easing out of that snug hole.

He looked at Paul. "Clean me up, cuck," he instructed and Paul swooped down, licking and sucking his still firm cock. Mike looked down in satisfaction at the sight. The well-groomed businessman sucking his dick of every drop of cum while he jerked off to completion.

Assertively he pushed Paul off his dick. "Enough of that, cuck. Time for me to fuck your husband again."

Kevin was kneeling now and met Mike in a hot kiss. He was horny, not having gotten off, and hoped Mike had another round in him right now.

He needn't have worried. "Time to take care of Daddy's needs," the cop said, both lusty and affectionately.

"Please," Kevin said feeling Mike's firm body press against his.

"Stand up," Mike asked and as he got up, he removed his jeans and shirt.

Horny, Kevin reached back and felt in his crack. It was slick with Mike's cum and he wondered just how much the bull had shot in him. And how much more was left today and this weekend.

"To the bedroom, Daddy," Mike smiled. "The cuck can stay out here and listen to us fuck."

Paul nodded, unbelievably turned on, as he sat down and removed his shorts, already stroking his bone for round two....

It was an hour later when Mike the Cop and Kevin opened the master bedroom door and walked out. Both nude, neither man had showered and were covered with sex and lube and cum from their coupling. Both had big relaxed smiles on their faces.

Paul was spent, throughly spent, from jerking off. It seemed to be his new state around his husband the bull.

"Hey Babe," Kevin said casually as he walked up and kissed Paul, more than a gingerly peck, a real loving husband's kiss. "You enjoy that?"

Paul nodded. He did, a lot. Though now he wondered if Kevin was enjoying this even more.

[soft-bellied-tannies]

Snack Conditioning

Posted in the SBT Little Bites Collection!

It started out simple. Jin knew that Namjoon liked his plump size, the only person who may have liked it more was Jin himself. So why not give his boyfriend a little push?

Watching a movie? Grab some snacks.

Trying a new game? Have a snack.

Reading his book? Eat a little snack.

Jin didn’t even mean to do it intentionally, but after he caught on to his developing habit, it quickly became a mission. It took a few weeks for it to work and now Jin had a solid plan.

Namjoon had been adamant that he preferred to plan a big meal to eat, to stuff himself and feel the fullness of his stomach. Jin certainly wasn't objected to that, he wanted to add a little more on top.

Snacking had never been his thing. Namjoon claimed he didn’t multitask well so he would get distracted by what he was doing and stop eating. The show on the TV was too engrossing or his focus on his latest chapter kept his hands away from the food in front of him.

In the beginning, sure, that was true. Namjoon really did get lost in what he was doing and his snacks went untouched. That is until he had a helping hand.

Jin sat beside him and offered his “support”. Holding up little chocolates or his favorite chips to his mouth, encouraging Namjoon to eat.

Slowly, Jin started to notice that anytime he was sitting on the couch in front of the TV - snacks were devoured. Namjoon now associated that time with snacking whether he realized it or not.

Jin kept the snack supply well stocked and offered different options when he was ready to watch something or laze around.

The highly anticipated weekend came when Jin could really test out the new habit. They both had a long weekend and Taehyung had recommended a new series to watch.

Three days off, a full supply of snacks, and seven seasons of a new show to binge. Jin hadn’t been this excited in a while.

Namjoon thought Jin was looking forward to the break and matched his excitement to watch the new show together.

Jin got everything set up. Comfy blankets and pillows were arranged on the couch with easy access to the coffee table that would hold the snacks.

A few bowls of chips and popcorn with his favorite candies and soda were out on the table and Namjoon even commented that he didn’t know if they could finish it all.

Jin almost laughed. It wouldn’t be the two of them finishing it all, Jin knew very well that it was going to be Namjoon all by himself.

With the first episode starting and the pair cuddled up together, Jin pulled the bowl of popcorn onto his lap and offered it to Namjon. He nodded and took a little handful.

The bowl was empty by the start of the third episode with no help from Jin. Namjoon hadn’t even realized that Jin had swapped the bowl for another that was on the table.

His hand seemed to move without him even noticing. Reflexively coming back to the popcorn as soon as his hand was empty.

A few more episodes in and the popcorn was empty. Jin offered a drink from the selection and told Namjoon he was going to the bathroom. A quick stop in the kitchen for some refills may have also happened, but that as for Jin alone to know.

Walking back into the living room, Jin saw Namjoon's hand in the bowl of chocolate which was now on his lap instead of on the table. He wasn't even looking down, just mindlessly bringing the candy to his mouth.

The chocolate came and went so Jin offered the popcorn refill. He shook his head to signal he was good, but his hand snuck over into the bowl minutes later.

By the end of the third season, the coffee table was a wasteland of empty bowls, wrappers, and cups. Popcorn, chips, candy, and soda throughout the entire day had disappeared.

Jin could see the impressive swell of his boyfriend's belly where he had packed away a family's worth of movie snacks throughout the day without even noticing.

As if on queue, Jin's stomach rumbled from hunger. He barely contained himself watching Namjoon snack endlessly all day and the thought of grabbing one of the snacks for himself hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Oh, look at the time. We should probably have dinner, huh?” Jin asked, pausing the next episode from starting.

Namjoon seemed to snap back to his senses at Jin's question. His hand instinctively went to his stomach which was putting up a good fight against his shirt.

“Oh, um…I’m pretty full. I guess it was a snacking day for me,” Namjoon replied, laughing exasperatedly. He seemed confused by how full he felt.

Jin gently ran his hand across Namjoon's belly feeling how tight his stomach was, now feeling a little proud of himself for being the one who caused it. “Well, I would have to agree. I mean, look at the state of this table.”

Namjoon's eyes widened when he saw the remnants of his snack stuffing in front of him.

Jin pressed a little more on his belly causing Namjoon to lean his head back against the couch with a groan.

“So much for not snacking. Look at you, ate and ate all day long until you had nothing left to eat," Jin teased, earning a whine from his stuffed boyfriend. 

Another moan came as Jin lifted the shirt and adjusted his pants below his taut belly. Namjoon was well and truly stuffed, rounded out and tight with his full day of eating.

“So full, can’t eat anymore," Namjoon groaned, pushing his stomach further into Jin's gentle hand asking for a belly rub. 

“Okay, baby, that’s fine. You did such a good job.”

Namjoon blushed at hearing Jin praise him the same way after a big stuffing. “Didn’t plan on it.”

“I know, you just couldn’t stop yourself. All those snacks just for you, my big guy gets so hungry these days.”

Jin smirked at Namjoon's embarrassed whimper at the continued teasing. He continued his massage of Namjoon's belly and thighs as his breathing got quicker, little moans following the movements.

“You know baby, there are four more seasons and the pantry is fully stocked. I kind of figured you may indulge over our long weekend." 

“O-Oh, r-really?” Namjoon stuttered out at the thought of doing it all over again.

“Mhmm, sounds like a nice plan for tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

“Yes…please.”

“Anything for you, babe." 

Jin was proud of his little experiment. Looks like the snack training was successful and he had two more days to continue his efforts. He was very much anticipating the end result of their hefty weekend plans.

[hqmillioncorn]

To see you smile again

Babycorn looked out the window, though the weather was cloudy she could tell that the sun was finally out again. She let out a long yawn. "It's about time." In her opinion nighttime could take its sweet time. Having the sun out was much funner anyway. Babycorn grabbed her backpack and swung it around her back. She had no idea what time it was or if anyone other than her was awake but she could probably wait around the docks until someone called her over. Whatever came next it couldn't be any worse than what already happened.

Lalapril 4/10 Silence

Babycorn can't sleep so she stays up all night yipppeeee

Babycorn took out another book from the bookcase and flipped through it. Just like the one before it was full of words and phrases she didn’t understand. She huffed, “They should put more pictures in these things.” Surely at least one Old Sharlayan scholar had gotten a headache from staring at words for too long.

A nice picture in the middle of all this text would be a nice change of pace.

There was nothing more Babycorn could do but put the book where it had been. She was very quickly running out of things to do. There was always the option of grabbing books on the top shelf but they were proving to be impossible to grab, even after dragging a chair over to help. 

Babycorn walked over to look at the chalkboard in the room. Several pieces of chalk were strewn all over the ground. As expected, most of the chalk had a chunk of them bitten off.

If Babycorn had to rate the taste it would be a solid seven out of ten. It was a little too plain for her tastes.

The chalkboard was covered with doodles from Babycorn, Cherrypit and Tilika. Babycorn had drawn whatever cool things popped into her mind like croissants, scrunchies and carrots. There were also a bunch of nonsense shapes that she had used to fill up empty space.

Cherrypit had drawn a bunch of hearts and stick figures of their friends. There was a sun with a cheerily happy face in the corner. Tilika had drawn a doodle of all three of them higher up on the chalkboard. 

After she had shown them the drawing of the three of them, both Babycorn and Cherrypit had asked Tilika to show them how to draw just like her. Of course Tilika agreed immediately. She looked so excited about it too.

Something about that must have made Cherrypit that much more interested in drawing. Babycorn hadn't noticed at the time but now she noted that ever since they first arrived in Old Sharlayan up to their stay in Garlemald, Cherrypit always had a drawing to show her during their downtime. 

A stack of them were placed on the table in the center of the room. Babycorn didn’t dare lay a finger on them. She couldn't.

With a sigh Babycorn moved over to the large lounge chair on the other side of the room. The bed was occupied so this is what she had decided she would sleep on in the meantime.

Tilika had begged her to not sleep on the floor. Doing that would be bad for her back in the long run! Apparently. That’s what Tilika had told her and Babycorn trusted her. 

Sometimes Babycorn trusted her friends more than she did herself. 

Oh well, she could deal with that when she wanted to. Right now all she was thinking about was how quiet it was and how much she didn’t like it. 

Normally she would fall asleep to the sounds of Cherrypit crawling on the ceiling or the sounds of his toys walking around the room. There were some nights that Cherrypit wouldn’t sleep and all and he would just sit next to Babycorn and talk to her. 

‘Bebe? Bebe! How’s Bebe?’

He would poke her face and grab onto her braids. 

‘Bebe sleepy! Sleepy! Goodniiiyy’!’

Some nights he would just play with his toys besides her. As long as Babycorn could hear his voice she knew he was okay. He was safe and everything was okay and fine. Everything was okay. 

Babycorn looked over to the bed. Cherrypit was lying down on it, unmoving and pretty much lifeless. Her mind was still hazy as to who had told her exactly that Cherrypit wasn’t dead, not all the way. Babycorn just figured that whoever it was just wanted to make her feel a little better

It hadn't really helped.

Babycorn sat back and lied down on the lounge chair, she held her arm out and looked at her hand. Sometimes it still didn’t feel real. Her life had been returned to her, she was truly and fully alive. No more slow heartbeat and no more occasionally bleeding scar. 

As far as she knew she was normal now. Or what she considered normal. 

Babycorn closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat. Maybe that would help? She thought. It happened to do the complete opposite, the sound was so wrong to her, it felt wrong. Babycorn wanted to scream. All she wanted to do was to sleep and wake up from this whole nightmare. 

“I should have never come here.” She whispered to herself. 

Though it wasn’t like she had a choice. The entire world and even all of existence as they knew it was depending on him. Most of the consequences flew over her head, even now so many years later.

Babycorn was sure that she would do anything in her power to keep the world that Cherrypit would grow up in safe.

But now what was even the point?

Babycorn set her arm down and blinked, there was a slight glow in the corner of the room. It couldn’t be the sun, it wasn’t bright enough to be that. That’s when Babycorn remembered the strange flower that Krile-Hydaelyn had given them.

Something about it made Babycorn’s stomach turn, even back then, but Cherrypit had been absolutely enamored by it. That was the only reason that Babycorn had kept it around. 

The flower was glowing a dark blue color. It reminded Babycorn of the color of Cherrypit’s eyes. Back when they were both younger. It was almost like it was taunting her. 

Babycorn let out a loud groan and quickly covered her mouth when she was louder than expected. It was late and people that weren’t her were probably still sleeping. “Sorry…” she apologized to no one in particular. 

Despite her best efforts of closing her eyes and counting cactuars Babycorn was nowhere closer to falling asleep than she was five hours ago. It was actually making her mad now. It was either being mad or sad at this point and she didn't know which one she liked LESS.

Babycorn tried to concentrate on any sound around her. Any sound, but there was nothing. On occasion she could hear footsteps outside in the hall and the breeze of the wind but besides that there was nothing.

Sure it was the middle of the night, almost four in the morning but still!!!

It was way too quiet! 

Babycorn started tapping the side of the lounge chair. The noise was unbearably loud in the silence of the room. This was a loud sound but it wasn’t the right sound. 

There was a fleeting thought in her head to walk out of her room and knock on someone’s door to check if they were still awake too. The least she wanted was to have someone else in the room with her. Right now there was no one in this room with her.

Airy had taken off somewhere without telling Babycorn. And Cherrypit was…

That’s probably why it was so quiet.

There was something about all the silence around her. It was just, so much. Too much. 

Babycorn thought about the rest of her friends. All of them were probably asleep by now. It was pretty late at night. Babycorn would feel bad if she woke them up just so she could sleep on their carpet or something. She had already caused enough trouble for everyone already. 

“Hmm…” Babycorn sat up and kicked her legs back and forth. 

Tilika slept early so she was out of the question. She had told Tilika very clearly that she would be able to handle staying alone in her room just fine. If she backed out of it that easily she would look like a fool. Not only that but she didn’t want Tilika to worry about her any more than she already was. 

And if she didn’t want to bother Tilika, then she for sure wasn’t going to consider asking anyone else for anything. 

“It’s fine.” Babycorn brought her legs closer to her and rested her head on her knee. “I’m fine.” All she needed to do was close her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep. It was that easy. There was nothing to it. 

‘Bebe? Okay?’

Babycorn grit her teeth together. “I said I’m fine!”

‘Gonna be okay? Bebe be careful!’

“I am being careful! Shut up!”

‘Bebe!’

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

In her anger, Babycorn grabbed a plate off the table and threw it as hard as she could at anything in her way. That happened to be the wall in front of her.

It shattered into pieces with the force of the impact. A loud noise echoed inside the room for a few terrifying seconds. Babycorn covered her mouth on instinct. "Sorry...Sorry..." She whispered as quietly as she could.

The noise of the plate breaking rang in her ears for a few seconds until silence surrounded her again. 

Babycorn kept quiet. Listening for the sound of footsteps outside her door. Would someone come in here and tell her to keep quiet?

She held her breath and looked at the door to her room.

Babycorn spent the night alone.