#or grab and they koala bear me while I climbed down

[stubz]

"So path it is?" asked Pollix looking up at the steep forest hill.

"That'll take so long though..." whined Zyz.

"Why don't we just climb it?" buzzed Xw.

"Because...not everyone can make it." hinted Pollix.

"Yeah, and we don't want to-"

"What do you guys mean? It's easy! Even Marl could make that and their tiny-"

"Xw!" "They're right there!" the two hissed frantically pointing to Anthony and Malaika who stand to the side looking at some plants.

"...aw I forgot about them. Do we have to bring them?"

"Teacher Kim said that we need to stay in a group."

"And we can't just leave them, they don't have any claws or extra limbs or anything to protect themselves with!"

"Or to climb with..." Xw muttered.

The younglings stood there silent for a moment trying to figure out how they could help their friends up the very steep hill...if you could call it that. It was almost vertical at some parts and even though Xw said it was easy it would still be a bit tricky for the younglings.

"...We could carry them?" Pollix offered.

"Malaika maybe but Anthony is too big! He's bigger than you."

"What if we tossed done some roots from the top? Like rope!"

"That could work-"

"Hey guys! Hurry up!" called Anthony, he and Malaika almost half way up the steep hill.

"...race ya!" hollers Xw before they scuttle up the hill.

"Hey!"

"No fair!"

All three of them easily passed their human friends. Xw's 4 legs making it easy to climb the near vertical parts. Zyz and Pollix run on all fours, their claws dig into the dirt allowing them to run easily.

Every now and then they would glance down to adjust their pace so as to not leave Anthony and Malaika behind. It was strange to see them climb the hill, they had no claws yet managed just fine by using roots as handles and rope, it was like seeing larger versions of Marl climb. Save for the lack of tail and fur.

"Looks like I win!" grins Pollix just a few feet away from the top.

"Not for long!" cackle Zyz and Xw grabbing a hold of his tail and clothes. The younglings wrestle and fight and all topple onto each other on the top of the hill. They chuff and chirp and snort whit wide smiles on their faces.

...chuff, chirp, snort...where's the laugh?

"Anthony help!"

"I'm trying! J-just stay there!"

"I'm slipping!!"

Peering over the edge they look and look until they see their friends down the hill, about 10 feet down 5 feet to the left...right at the most steepest part of the hill. It seems Malaika had took a different path and was now stuck clinging for dear life on a tiny root that was slowing being pulled out. Anthony was going as fast as he could to her to try and pull her to the safer parts but he too was soon stuck.

Quickly Xw scuttled down to Malaika and grabbed her, frantically pulling her up but alas they were too small to carry her higher.

Pollix and Zyz skidded down and slowly yet surely guided Anthony to the safer parts where he could safely grab on to some roots to climb.

With Anthony now safe they went to Malaika to try and help Xw carry her up or to the side.

.

"You good Xw?"

"Yeah...I hope Zyz comes back with Teacher Kim though." they huffed.

After many terrifying attempts of trying to bring Malaika to somewhere safer on the hill they realized three things. One, the area Malaika was standing was too steep for her to climb onto Pollix or Zyz's back. Two, both boys needed both hands when climbing there so they couldn't grab her hand and pull her higher up to safety. Three, Anthony still couldn't make it to the top and as the biggest couldn't be carried or pulled to the top. In short, both humans were stuck.

"I got Teacher Kim!" Zyz yelled scrambling up the hill.

"...where is she?"

"...still at the bottom of the hill..."

"Zyz! She'll probably need help like-"

"Coming through! Can't stop the momentum!" yells Kim running up the hill on all fours. She goes until she reaches Malaika, grabs her, sits down and slides down the hill.

"..." "..." "..." "...Miss Kim what about m-?!"

The teacher climbs back up, this time slower, taking time to find roots to grab and dig her fingers into the dirt for better grip when she could find none. Malaika clings onto her back, much like Marl would do with his mom.

When she reaches Anthony she first boosts Malaika up to the roots they can't reach and has Pollix help her up to the top. Anthony goes next with some help with from Zyz and Xw until finally she herself goes.

"So what did we learn today?"

"...don't go off the path." the children mumbled.

"Because...?"

"Not everyone can do what other's can do."

"Good. Now let's go, I look like I crawled through the wilderness for miles." she chuckled looking at the dirt caked hands and clothes.

"...so in a few years you'll be able to do that?" Xw asks Anthony.

"I guess."

"My daddy can do that too! He climbs mountains without rope!" Malaika proudly declares.

"...should have brought your dad here then."

[tumblerlove]

Some cockwarming with Si...I'm in love, ok

Simon hates having to bring home any type of paperwork back to the house. He doesn't want to take any attention off of you. But if he doesn't bring it home, he knows it won't get done in time for his deadline

When he came home tonight, he had told you he needed to get work done still. What he really wanted to do was just stay with you and cuddle on the couch. But no, he most do important military things... even though his entire body is telling him you're just out that door waiting for him.... fuck these next few hours were gonna suck

Simon was in his office for over 3 hours now. You were seriously getting antsy for him...he was in the same house as you yes...but he was busy, and you knew that and didn't want to disturb him but...

It doesn't mean you couldn't go and check in on him for a second. Maybe even bring him something to drink. Just to see how he's doing, you know...

*knock knock* "Simon, can I come in?" You say softly. "Of course, love," his voice calls back. You walk in holding him a cup of water wearing only a shirt of his, panties and some fuzzy socks

"You've been in here for a while figured you needed something." You hand the glass to him and smile

Simon pulls you closer towards him after he's done drinking. "Thanks, love." He says, resting his head against your stomach while you play with his hair. "I'm not sure how much longer I'll have left, to do... you should just head on to bed." Simon's looking at all the papers he has strewn across his desk that he needs to still do. "I.. I don't mind staying up for you, Si...I just wanted to see your face for a second" he moves you to stand in between his legs so his hands can play with your ass while looking at you

"Thank you, love. I just want to see yours, too, believe me," Simon's says before he has an idea pulling you even closer to him

"I have an idea," he says with a smile while still rubbing your ass "Why don't you come sit in my lap while I finish this up?" "Really?" You ask him already wanting to climb into his big lap

"Yeah, why wouldn't I...come ere love" Simon pulls you right into his lap, having you straddle him. He feels already better having you on top of him. This paperwork feels like it's never-ending. Maybe with you, it'll go by faster or at least be more enjoyable

"Now that's better," he grunts out as he starts working on his papers again with you wrapped around him like a koala bear. After only a few minutes Simon can feel your cunt dragging over his clothed cock trying to adjust yourself. "Mmm" he's groaning out not expecting how nice it feels. "You ok, Si?" Asking not having any idea what you just did to him. "Yeah... yeah, I'm good. " he tries returning back to his paperwork

About 10 minutes later, he can't take it anymore. He can feel the heat from your cunt on his clothed dick and he needs more. He knows your not doing it on purpose and your just trying to get comfortable...but he can't think with you doing that. He can't stop moving now trying to get closer to your cunt. "Si-uh..what are you doing" you try getting the words out as he's rocking you back and forth against his clothed lap

"I can't deal with this paperwork without more of you" he's saying as he starts messing with your panties rubbing circles over your clothed clit making you gasp out a little. He's pushing your panties aside and starts teasing your entrance

"Mmm...I want more too" you moan and start grabbing Simon's pants pulling them down...thank fuck you don't have to wait any longer for him

Simon's sliding his fingers throughout your pussy spreading your slick all over and getting you ready for his cock. "I just need a little bit until I'm done...just something" he says when you get his boxers down finally. He's teasing the head of his dick up and down your slit making your hips buck. "Si...please fill me up" you bury your face into his neck crying for him to just do something

Simons grunting out "Fuckkkk here we go," as he slides himself into you. "Mmm God Si" he's filling you up completely now. Your ass is flat against his big thighs. Both of you as close together as possible sitting in the chair

"Shit...ok just stay like that...don't move...while I finish up." Simon can barely get the words to come out he feels your pussy pulsing around him. "Mmm, Si, hurry up..." You're moaning out while rocking gently back and forth, trying to get any friction... you both are not going to make it for long

"Fuck this" Simon grunts out as he tosses the paper out his hands to instead wrap around your waist to fuck you up and down his cock

"Oh, Simon...I couldn't wait anymore," you're crying out to him. Your holding on to his neck as he keeps pistoning his cock in and out of you. "I couldn't either - fuck - its ok." his papers are long forgotten as he's grabbing onto every inch of you he can

"You feel so good couldn't even think straight lovie," Simon says before smacking your ass as he moves you up and down. "Ohh shit" your cunt clenches on his dick from the slap. "You liked that huh?...I think you did. " Simon teases you as he sends another smack to your ass

"I'm gonna cum Si" your holding on to him for dear life as he keeps fucking up into you. Simon's hand comes down to clit and starts rubbing small circles helping you get closer to cumming

"Come on... let me have it, " Simon's groaning out as his pace and fingers quicken. "Oh, Simon, oh," you're crying out as you feel your orgasm hit, making your legs shake around Simon's waist as he keeps thrusting. "Shit...shit" Simon's head is tipping back as he cums inside of you feeling your pussy throb around him

"That was so much better then paperwork" Simon's lowly saying in your neck as his cum is dripping out of you down both of your guys thighs. "Mm I don't think I can move" you laugh softly as you can't feel your legs. He huffs out a laugh. "Who says I want you going anywhere...I never said I was done... forgot the paperwork".... shittt

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 9

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You call Jake to come pick you up from a crazy night out with Phoenix and Rooster and you say something you didn’t mean to say out loud.

Contents: drinking, an almost kiss, and FLUFF

Word count: 2k (ish)

A/N: I just wanna note while this is part of a series, you don’t have to go back and read the other chapters. This can be read alone. Okay ENJOY!!

Chapter 9

You had just taken your last shot for the night before Penny rang the bell for last call. You turn to Natasha and Bradley before smiling.

“Should we get one more shot?” You slur.

“I think you should call Bagman,” Nat smiles.

“Yeah, Seresin is gonna wanna pick you up,” Bradley tells you.

You groan but unlock your phone to find Jake’s contact and allow Bradley to give you a piggyback ride out the bar, Natasha hanging on the other side.

“I feel like a koala,” she mutters making you laugh hysterically.

“Hello?” Jake answers.

“Bagman!” You say into the phone as Bradley puts you and Nat down.

“What’s up, Bullseye?” Jake laughs.

“Can you come pick me up?” You ask. “Wait, do you guys need a ride too?”

“Nope,” Bradley smiles. “Baby On Board is coming for us.”

You gasp. “I love Bob!”

“Y/N?” You hear Jake say in your ear.

“Oh shit, I forgot you were here!” You laugh.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, I have to drop someone off,” he tells you.

Your heart sinks at that. You’d been living with him for about five months or so and you’d never seen him on a date. Did he choose now to start dating someone?

“Oh, okay,” you respond, defeat in your voice.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.”

You hang up and glance at Nat and Bradley who are now quiet and waiting for you to tell them what’s up.

“I’m pretty sure he was on a date,” you tell them.

“Does that bother you?” Nat asks. She’s the only one that knows how you feel about Jake, if Bradley found out he’d try to talk you out of the feelings.

“Nah,” you fake smile. “Just upset I might e stopped him from getting laid.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I don’t think you would be much of a cock block.”

A few minutes pass before Jake finally shows up, Bob had picked up Nat and Bradley a few minutes before. They wanted to wait with you, but you shooed them off.

“Heyooooo,” you slur when you climb into Jake’s truck.

“Hey yourself,” he smiles. “Did you have a good time?”

“Mhmm.” You sigh. “How was your night?”

“It was fine,” he tells you, beginning to drive. “I had Coyote over for a beer or two. That’s who I was dropping off, he got a little too plastered.”

Immediate relief fills your chest and you let out a sigh. “Oh.”

“Just in case you were wondering who was over,” he continues. “I wouldn’t bring any girls over by the way.”

“It’s fine if you do,” you tell him. “It’s your house.”

“No, it’s our house now.”

Right, you forgot that Jake insisted that you call his house yours as well. You didn’t expect to stay as long as you had, but after things with your ex, you couldn’t bear living alone.

When he finally parks the car in the driveway, he turns to you and asks, “Do I need to carry you up?”

“Noooope!” You cheerfully answer before hopping out of the car and skipping your way to the front door.

Jake follows close behind, worried you’re going to trip and hit your head on something. He opens the front door and you skip inside toward the kitchen and grab another beer from the door.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Jake laughs.

“I drank with Natasha and Bradley,” you shrug. “Now I drink with you.”

“Okay, but just one.”

* * *

One turned into three and then three turned into five. Before Jake knew it, he was giggling with you as you watched the SpongeBob movie, a huge bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

“I cannot believe you haven’t seen this,” you tease.

“I was like fifteen when this came out.” He laughs.

“So was I and I went to the theater to watch it!”

Jake only smiles at you, this is a side of you he hasn’t seen before and he thinks he likes it. Not the drinking, but the relaxed and playful side of you.

“What’re you thinking?” He asks you.

He watches as your eyes fall on his, mild searching ensues as your eyes triangulate from his to his mouth and back to his eyes.

“I think you have pretty eyes,” you whisper.

“Do you?” He whispers back.

“Right now, they look kinda blue-green.”

“Are they?”

You nod, scooting closer to him and moving the bowl of popcorn to the floor.

“They’re the prettiest blue-green I’ve ever seen,” you whisper to yourself.

“Are they now?” He smiles.

“Shit,” you say, a blush creeping up your ears. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“What else do you think about me?” He urges. He likes hearing what you thought about his eyes, he can’t imagine what else you’d say.

“Like your kindness,” you tell him. “I feel like you only reserve it for me.”

Jake’s face was hurting from how hard he was smiling but he didn’t care. You thought he was kind.

“I do, actually,” he tells you, the alcohol making him courageous enough to tell you the truth. “You deserve all the kindness.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“What else do you like about me?” He asks, scooting even closer.

His thighs were burning by how close his were to you but he wouldn’t dare move them. His lips part when he watches your eyes flick down to them.

He really wanted to kiss you.

“I like how you smell,” you blurt.

Jake laughs and leans in close enough for him to expose his neck to your nose.

“What do I smell like?” He teases.

He feels you breathe on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. You press your nose to his neck and his eyes flutter closed.

He could get used to this.

You.

“You smell like…Jake, mixed with something sweet and clean,” he hears you say.

He pulls away a bit, facing you.

You’re inches away from him and he could easily just grab your head and pull you in. But he won’t. Not unless you asked him to.

And he really wanted you to.

“Can you do something for me?” You whisper.

“Anything,” he whispers back.

He watches as your flutter closed, blinking before you search his eyes. Something glimmers in your eyes and he can’t help but feel the excitement bubble up in his chest.

She’s so beautiful.

“Will you kiss me?” You ask, so quietly, Jake could barely hear it.

Music fills Jake’s ears, just like they do in romantic movies when the two main characters fall in love.

Yes, he watched those.

Delight and excitement courses through his veins, nothing like he’s ever felt before.

This was new and exciting.

Jake smiles down at you before nodding softly. He’s been waiting for this moment for the past few months, he wasn’t gonna fuck it up.

Except, as soon as his hands reach either side of your face, a phone rings.

Jumping, you pull away, almost sobering up and realizing what was about to happen and you turn around to grab your phone.

Jake’s heart was pounding, not in fear but in shock of what he was so close to doing. He had t been this close to a woman in almost two months and the celibacy was kinda killing him. Though if he had to wait longer for you, he would.

“Hello?” You answer.

Jake watches as your shocked and serious demeanor softens and lights up in laughter, making him smile.

“Bradley, if you wanted to come over with Nat you should’ve asked,” you laugh. He watches you pause, as you listen to Bradshaw.

Your eyes are glossy from the alcohol, cheeks slightly flushed. You’re chewing on your lower lip, your thumb guiding the lip back and forth. You feel his eyes on you so you flick to his and smile softly.

“Just tell Bob to drive you guys here. I’m sure Jake wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you later,” you say, winking at Jake.

Jake only smiles, shaking his head in defeat because he knows Bradshaw would do it to piss him off.

“Okay so we’ll see you in a few?” You pause, smiling again. “Okay, okay, love you too.”

Did she just say she loved him?

“So I assume they’re coming over?” Jake asks you. He’s choosing to ignore that last line but his face was doing a bad job at hiding his feelings and he knew it.

“Yeah,” you say, growing a bit. “Hey, are you—”

“I’m great,” Jake says, standing from the couch. “I’ll get some snacks ready for them, I’m sure they’re gonna be hungry, especially Baby On Board.”

* * *

You watch as Jake pads into the kitchen, sighing to himself.

You couldn’t believe you almost kissed him. What were you thinking? If you would’ve kissed him, it would’ve made things weird and then you’d have to leave.

You almost ruined everything.

Though, had it happen you knew you would’ve been glad it did. And it looked like he wanted to.

Damn you Bradley.

Instead, you get up and walk to your room, passing the kitchen on the way. You glance into the kitchen to find Jake staring off into space and smiling before blinking and focusing on you.

A small smile lingered on his lips so you did the next best thing you thought would clear out the air.

You waved at him.

Jake chuckles and waves back causing you to chuckle and blow a kiss in his direction. His eyes widen and cheeks turn red before he turns away with a smile.

You to admit, that was adorable.

In your room, you change into some pajama shorts and the oversized Texas Longhorns t-shirt you forgot to give back to Jake along with some fuzzy socks. As you take your makeup off, you hear the doorbell ring followed by Bradley and Natasha’s voices echoing in the front hallway.

“Where’s my girl?” You hear Nat ask.

“She went to her room a bit ago. You should go check on her,” Jake tells her.

A few second later, Natasha is bounding into your room, a goofy smile on her face.

“Sooo,” she starts but stops when she sees what you’re wearing. “Wait, since when you you like the Longhorns? WAIT! IS THAT—”

You shush her before pulling her into your room and closing the door.

“Yes, it’s Jake’s,” you whisper. “Be quiet I have something to tell you.”

“You like him,” she deadpans. “I already knew that.”

“Not only that,” you drawl. “But we almost kissed.”

Natasha blinks, registering what you’ve just told her before she breaks out into a wide smile.

“Fucking finally,” she whisper yells. “Why didn’t you kiss?”

“Bradley called,” you respond.

“Oh, I know exactly how to get the ball rolling.”

When Natasha gives a devilish grin, you sigh. You knew what was coming.

“Please don’t say—”

“Spin the bottle.”

Next part!!!

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[v4mpch4nni3]

⋆｡‧˚ʚFloatingɞ˚‧｡⋆

(Thinking about Bang Chan's blonde, fluffy hair has me dizzy 🫠😵‍💫)

wc: 421

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

You and Chris were lying in bed when you heard two pairs of little footsteps running towards your room.

The footsteps slowed down and the door creaked open to reveal your firstborn, Oliver, and your secondborn, Lily. Lily pushed past Oliver and called out,

"Mommy? Daddy? Are you guys awake?" Oliver told her to be quiet.

"We’re awake, don’t worry," you reassured them.

You sat up and stretched, which woke up Chris. He sat up and his fluffy hair was an absolute mess.

"Yikes, dad. Your hair's a mess," Oliver made a look at his dad.

"Hm? Is it really?" Chris looked over at the mirror on the wall and laughed at himself.

"Jeez, did you wrestle with a bear last night?" You teased him.

"No, but I wrestled with my wife last night," Chris said, and you punched him in the arm, telling him the kids were here.

Lily climbed onto the bed, crawled towards you, and snuggled into your chest. Oliver got snatched by Chris, who was now tickling him.

You laughed at them while Lily clung to you like a baby koala bear. You looked down and brushed her hair out of her face.

"Alright, let's go get breakfast. Who wants pancakes?" Lily immediately perked up and hurried out of the room

Oliver followed soon after Chris finally let go and rolled out of bed to put on a shirt.

You were already decently dressed so you walked downstairs to get the batter made. Lily was already sitting in front of the TV watching Bluey, courtesy of her brother.

Oliver had the mix sitting on the counter while rummaging through the fridge for some blueberries.

"I can't find the blueberries!" Oliver yelled from the kitchen. Chris walked down and yelled back,

"They're in the fruit drawer, buddy." Oliver found them and thanked his dad.

Chris helped Oliver with the mix while you helped Lily find the whipped cream and sprinkles.

Once you found them, Oliver already has pancakes cooking. Once all of them were done, you all sat down at the dinner table and Lily fully decked out her pancake in whipped cream and sprinkles until Chris grabbed them and told her enough.

Lily took a bite and already had whipped cream all over her face. You pointed to a spot and she tried to lick it off. You grabbed your napkin and wiped her face off.

"These are amazing!" Lily exclaimed

"I’m surprised you’re able to taste the pancake with all that on it," Oliver teased her.

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 7

Alpha!Damiano x Omega!Reader

Time for smut :)

You skip social niceties, kicking off your shoes and going down the hall to find Damiano. He’s sitting on his bed, slowly peeling off his clothes. His movement is abnormal, a side effect of the medication to manage this episode maybe. You’ve seen Dami get undressed. Usually he just wrenches everything off in under a minute, standing upright. 

“Let me help.” Damiano stops moving and allows you to pull his jacket off. The fine motor skills to remove his arms from the sleeves don’t come easy, so you assist with that too. Tripping over his cleats, you notice that Damiano managed to get his shoes and socks off by himself. The laces are pulled taunt in knots. Really, you should both shower, but being the same kind of gross means you’re not bothered by the others' lack of cleanliness. 

Getting the t-shirt off isn’t hard. Shorts however, involve Dami raising his hips or standing up. You take your time working them off, pulling down the waistband a tiny bit at a time.

“Sorry,” he slurs. “I took a benzo so things don’t…lorazepam or klonopazam.” Once the shorts were off, Dami lay back at a snail's pace. He was blinking slower than usual, brain fighting to be cognizant enough to direct his limbs. You strip down to your underwear and climb in bed next to him, arranging covers.

“No, ‘s too hot,” he groaned, so you push all of the bedding to the end of the mattress. Dami had managed to get 100% of his body in the bed which was sort of impressive. Unfortunately, figuring out how to scoot up to the pillow was visibly vexing. His brow was furrowed with focus, as you lay down next to him. 

“It wears off quick, ‘m sorry.” 

“Shh, come here baby.” Simplifying the situation, you grab Damiano under his arms and haul him on top of you. He turns into a very uncoordinated koala bear, making little grunts of frustration in the back of his throat while attempting to orient himself. Your cheek ends up resting on Dami’s forehead whose face is against your scent gland. Your arms are wrapped around his torso and Damiano is attempting to do the same while also focusing on intertwining your legs to his desired specifications. He progressively starts giggling without prompting.

“What are you –”

“Boobies,” he snickers. You may roll your eyes, but internally you far prefer silly Damiano to agonized Damiano.

“Will you just lay down already?” He gives up positioning himself and splays out. One of your legs is slotted between Damiano���s. His arm is flung over your chest, palm facing down, hand relaxed. For at least an hour the room is silent, besides the sound of breathing. You intentionally keep your breaths calm and regular, silently repeating positive affirmations and hoping that energy reaches him. Damiano cuddles against you, so you kiss his moderately disgusting hair, but then he lets out a forlorn whimper.

“Baby? Are you –”

“My head doesn’t hurt anymore.” You sort of know how he’s feeling right now. The release of oxytocin at the skin to skin contact regulates your body's most basic functions: temperature, oxygenation, breathing, heart rate, even digestion. But you’d never experienced the cortisol spike Daminao had today. 

The come down was so intense that when you felt his tears on your skin it didn’t startle you. Damiano took these gasping breaths that made him shudder as he decompressed. He’d tense and shift around, riding the waves of anxiety and getting to the other side in the support of your embrace. Other moments his hands would reach for something to grip and ball up into fists. Dami would literally white knuckle it for a couple seconds until things leveled out. Based on how his reactions evolved, you could feel that Dami’s basic instincts were growing less contradictory to his medicated state. There wasn’t a war inside him anymore.

“Oh my god,” he sniffed. “You have no idea how…I don’t even want to imagine today, without you.” You tug Damiano tighter against you, trying to get another square inch of your skin to touch his. A huge part of compatibility between alphas and omegas was biological. If a mated pair spent enough time together, the bacteria on their skin could become so similar that it was almost indiscernible. It's why loneliness was felt so acutely by alphas and omegas. They'd been biologically engineered to crave and adapt to companionship.

“How crazy is it that the surface of our bodies are gonna have basically the same pH?” you whisper, tracing a heart shape between Damiano’s shoulders.

“It's wild, but I can feel it. Like we’ve become less separate.”

“Yeah?” He nods in confirmation. Wrapping your legs around Damiano, you roll on your sides, hugging, foreheads pressed together.

“A year ago I hated the idea of feeling like a science experiment,” you confessed.

“And now?”

“I don’t feel like a science experiment at all.” You can’t kiss, because Dami’s lip isn’t healed, but the urge is there.

“The only reason I’m not frothing at the mouth is the androgen blockers I took at the amphitheater, just to be clear. And they’re wearing off too.”

“My confidence will survive you not lusting after me within an inch of your sanity, love.” By the time the “L” sound had slipped off your tongue, you were powerless to stop the rest of the word. Damiano didn’t falter. For the first time today, his smile reached his eyes. He didn’t have any smile lines. Damiano’s reputation of being mysterious and brooding contributed to his sex appeal. It was all just part of a carefully curated facade to keep anyone from getting too close, but you were his exception. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry if I contributed.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” he shook his head emphatically. “Before you, all I knew was fear.” This proclamation has you reeling. What does a person say in response? Me too? Luckily, it didn’t seem like he was expecting a response. Damiano kissed just under your jaw and flipped over so you were on top, content with that information being received without rejection. Now you were left to process it, ear to his chest. You could hear his heart thundering away, as you had on Saturday morning. 

“You deserve to know what happened today,” he sighs, burdened.

“So you were in headspace when you broke Julio’s nose?” Dami nods against you. “Do you just see red and lose it?”

“I wouldn’t say lose it.”

“Sorry,” you wince. He pats your shoulder, hushing you affectionately.

“No, no, it's okay love.” Love. That diminutive was not a part of Dami’s vernacular until you’d used it today. It would be cruel to mock you for the slip up and Damiano wasn’t cruel. Later in the evening, after he’d called you love at every opportunity, even in front of his parents, you’d be left with the conclusion that your stumble just gave him permission. 

“If you touch something hot, you yank your hand away before you even feel the pain, right? So information goes from your hand,” Dami brings your palm to his face and kisses it, then traces up your back. “To your spinal cord, then up to your brain. With tissue damage, like a burn, your body reacts as soon as that information reaches your spinal cord and pulls your hand away” He strokes up your arm to your shoulder blade while narrating.

“Those are your reflexes, right?” Remembering a psychology lesson while being gently caressed by Damiano is nothing short of miraculous.

“Exactly, it's an automatic response built in to protect yourself from harm.” He sighs heavily. “In alpha headspace, self-preservation stuff that used to be a conscious choice using fine motor skills,” Damiano pats your head, then moves his hand to rest on your spine. “It almost becomes reflexive, not managed by our intellectual mind. Today I really did not want to hurt Julio, but he attacked me and I just reacted. It's called Alpha Dysregulation Type 2.” You are suddenly aware of how little you knew about alpha biology, growing up in a household without one.

“But…why didn’t Julio just turn too? Alphas are capable of switching into headspace outside of rut. You turn all the time when you’re with me.” Damiano clicks his tongue in thought and falls silent for a couple moments.

“Normal alphas reach headspace outside of rut a couple instances in their lifetime: marking, fighting, y’know. But it's a conscious choice. I’m just out of control.” You scoff in disbelief and sit up to meet Damiano’s eyes. 

“Bullshit!” As an omega, you’d been surrounded by whispered tales of violent and careless alphas before you even reached puberty. Some of them were horror stories about omegan injury due to their mate’s recklessness. Sometimes it was just outright abuse or gaslighting about the implications of biology. You’d seen Dami in headspace a dozen times and he was so gentle each instance, so careful not to so much as pull your hair accidentally. Damiano knew the advantage his physicality gave him and displayed constant awareness in every tender touch.

“Look, I know that you’re probably in headspace more often than is normal. I’m not stupid, I just never looked into it.” Damiano’s brow furrows in surprise. Apparently he hadn’t taken into account that you spoke to your friends or that your friends had older siblings.

“Because it doesn’t matter to me! Nothing is wrong. I don’t need normal. You just shift according to whatever energy is in the room and you’ve never gotten stuck. You are not out of control!” When you finally take a breath after ranting, Damiano is smiling. The corners of his mouth are quivering like that smile could easily turn into tears.

“You’re right, I’m not. I’ve worked really hard to make my dysregulation invisible and to control it. Unfortunately, it's more complicated than going from zero to 100 when I should cap out at 15.” Damiano pulls you down to lay on his chest and feel you angst abate.

“Too much alpha hormones means you go Vampiriano way more often than you should and if you’re threatened during everything goes to shit?” He chuckles and this minutely moves your hand where it rests on his toned stomach.

“Stimuli perceived as threatening between Alpha Sapiens prompts irregular, excess production of adrenaline and testosterone. If the subject enters into an acute stress response a violent episode may subsequently occur.” He recites these words mechanically. “Geneticists really narrowed the margin of error with hormone production. The amygdala can’t take being drowned in alpha levels of stress hormones.”

“So you can’t regulate like in rut?” 

“Mm mm,” he shakes his head. You readjust and Dami strokes your back. You kiss his sternum and taste salt, then leave a couple affectionate nips.

“If your body is forcing you into a state of hypervigilance, isn’t that a panic attack?”

“Yeah. It’s really similar, and the only way to calm down is to deescalate out of alpha headspace.”

“But how are you supposed to do that with no distress tolerance?”

“Oh, it's basically impossible,” he chuckles without humor. Every slightly hysterical syllable drips with bitterness.

“Hence, all the medications that force my nervous system to chill out.” Trying to find the right words, you kiss Dami’s chest. The pink spots from nipping him look like petals. They’re so beautiful that you leave a couple more marks a few inches up. It feels good to work his skin between your teeth.

“That is unless something shows up, manually replenishes my oxytocin, and jumpstarts my dopamine production.” You wrack your brain for what Dami could be referencing to, but after a couple seconds you still come up blank.

“Like what?”

“Like you, silly!” Damiano flips both of you over, so he’s pushing you into the mattress with his bodyweight.

“Oh!” He nuzzles your head and playfully snaps his teeth in your ear.

“Yeah, ‘oh’!” Also feeling mischievous, you bite Dami’s arm while it's placed near your mouth. He makes a noise that borders on a growl, which is really just asking you to provoke him further. So you do. This time he drops all his body weight on you, pinning you to the mattress. There's absolutely no threat behind his snarl and you wonder what it would sound like if you actually frustrated him a little bit. Arms against your sides, you flip over onto your back. Damiano allows you because he was expecting it. What he didn’t expect was for you to use all your strength to catapult him off the bed and onto the floor.

Immediately, Damiano’s head snaps up, eyes questioning. Because surely you didn’t mean to shove him off the bed, right? To make it very clear this was no accident you smirked, and looked down on him, cocking your head to the side. For a moment you just stare at each other, egging the other on. I fucking dare you to do something. There was a new electricity in your bond that made your hair stand on end. 

Damiano attempts to clamber up onto the bed from the floor and you shove him again. Crouched on the mattress, you let out the sound that was raring at the back of your throat: a snarl of territorialism. This is mine. Of course it wasn’t. This is his bed, in his room, in his territory and you both knew it. The absolute disbelief in Dami’s face is very promising, especially when it turns to determination. 

This time, when he tries to get up on the bed you don’t stop him. It’d be futile because now Damiano is prepared for your resistance, which is nothing compared to alpha strength. Not yet satisfied with the tension created, you climb off the otherside. After a moment of hesitation checking for dustiness, you crawl under the bed frame. Out of sheer luck, you manage to do so before Dami has clambered across the mattress, ready to leap onto the floor after you. He looks over the edge and you can hear him pause in confusion. The bed creaks as he checks the other sides. Another pause. When Damiano gets up you quiet your breathing, even though the excitement is unbearable. The floor creaks when he walks around the bed, perplexed. 

“I know you’re in here, y/n,” he taunts. “I can smell you.” Trying to recede farthing into the shadow, you curl into a ball, breasts pressed to your legs. Damiano’s feet pad over to his closet and he checks both sides, then behind his desk. He’s out of hiding places except the one he hasn’t thought of yet.

“You’re a very clever kitten.” Of course this prompts the realization, because where do nervous kittens hide? Under the bed. Damiano drops to the floor, and his face lights up when he sees you. He shifts right before your eyes, canines coming to rest on his lip. It's absolutely thrilling. A pang of fear turns your blood to ice cold, instincts telling you to fucking run. Instead, you let out an angry hiss when Dami grabs you, which is made difficult by being curled in a ball. Still, Dami gets a grip on your forearm and hauls you out from under the bed, face twisted in determination. You bite him properly, but he doesn’t let go.

You know Dami wants to put you on your back in an act of discipline. So you let him, looking up at him with the sweetest, most submissive eyes. He immediately softens. You whine pathetically then avoid his gaze, pretending you’re overwhelmed with remorse for misbehaving. You don’t move a muscle, staying exactly the way you landed. Damiano yields, sitting back instead of holding himself over you. Meanwhile you make a mental note that you can get away with whatever you want.

The urge to kiss your alpha is so overwhelming that you settle on this to tic him off. Dami is surely not expecting you to lunge towards him, climb on his lap, and kitten lick his lips, living up to you diminutive. First he embraces you back the way he always does, then releases because he realizes you were faking subservience a second ago, then gets an even tighter grip to control the interaction. Damiano forces his tongue into your mouth, displaying dominance, and you taste iron. It’s easily recognizable as blood, but the flavor doesn’t disgust you. The warm, soft muscle of his tongue gesticulates against yours like an impassioned caress, and everything else is forgotten. That is, until the memories of the day catch up with you. 

“Mm, your lip!” you yelp into the kiss. He ignores the protest, instead cradling your face in his hand, pulling you closer. Damiano puts his whole being into the kiss, letting out a hum of contentment. His fingers are curled around the back of your neck, index in your hair, thumb caressing your jaw.

“Dami, you lip!” you insist, mumbled against his mouth.

“Ugh, fine,” he groans in annoyance, pulling away. “Worth it. I haven’t kissed you all day. Even though you’re a pain in the ass.” He smacks your butt for emphasis. Damiano brings that hand up to his lip, but there's no blood when he pulls it away.

“You’re healing, already. Holy shit.” You turn Damiano’s face from side to side. He was visibly less swollen and the discoloration had faded. Sure being with your mate promoted healing, but this was on another level. Dami shifted out of headspace as the subject changed.

“Is it part of your Vampiriano thing? Super healing?” Damiano scoffs, but pauses in a way that indicates a forthcoming answer. 

“One of the pills I took is to help with the recovery.  But…yes. There’s a possibility that I  have a slightly higher healing capability. However, it's not negligible enough to give me an advantage in sports.”

“Oh, well you know that's what I really care about” you reply, sarcastically. Then it hits you that as soon as baby Dami was diagnosed with this, he had to prove to everyone, repeatedly, that his medical condition shouldn’t exclude him from a normal life. It hurts your heart to imagine that now, but when he was a child…you couldn’t bear to think about it.

“It must have fucked with your head as a kid, feeling like a liability? Did you have any room for error? Like normal, human screw ups? None of it is even your fault.” Damiano sighs and you’re close enough that you can feel the warm hair hit your face. He rests his head against yours and goes so long without answering that you start to wonder if he intends to.

“Can I get a raincheck on having my mind read by you, love?” You curl his dirty hair around your fingers and nod, feeling bashful enough to chew on the inside of your lip. It was a beautiful testament to the emotional intimacy you shared. 

You sat there, sexually pent up, gazing at each other hungrily, but also reflecting on the day's events. You kept running into the sensation that you were missing something. If Alpha Dysregulation didn’t affect the omega side of your relationship, then why had it dictated all aspects of your intimacy?

“So, just to clarify –”

“Mhm.”

“This doesn’t inhibit our sex lives?”

“Nope, everything works.” Eyebrows furrowed, you wait for Damiano to elaborate a modicum of reason. He directs a questioning gaze right back at you.

“I don’t get it.” Dami is immediately reassuring.

“It’s a ton of information at once. I don’t think any normal person would understand right away.” He runs his thumb along the back of your hand.

“No Damiano, I don’t get what this has to do with us. So what you shift more often? Did you really think I’d leave over that?” His face falls, not just his smile, but his eyes are downcast. It was a rhetorical question to make Dami see the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Never did you dream that the answer would be yes. 

“Are you going to?” he murmurs.

“No!” You’re appalled. Has his faith in your feelings always been so fragile? The silence that follows is louder than any sound: any scream of anger, any outcry of betrayal. That silence echoes like it's ricocheting off the walls of some endless void. 

“So all of those restrictions were because you weren’t planning on us lasting?” 

“Not planning, just –”

“How long did you anticipate sticking around?” you spat, feeling your entire perception of reality crumble.

“As long as I could!” he shouts, welling up. “I needed to survive losing you and I won’t apologize for that! So…so is this it?”

“What the fuck do you mean is this it!?”

“Because you’re free to go. I made sure that – that you’d…I haven’t marked or mated or even knot – knotted,” Damiano chokes up. It was just as you had suspected: he craved intimacy even more than you.

“I’m not leaving. I don’t want an out,” you say, forcing yourself to be calm.

“That’s what it means to be a protector. It’s not a fairy tale,” Dami recites, visibly trying to convince himself. “It’s about sacrifice, about prioritizing your wellbeing.”

“Fuck your sacrifice! This fragile girl in your head isn’t me, Damiano. I don’t need you to make decisions for me.” He looks at the carpet in shame, pulling on each individual frayed thread with a vengeance. Dami’s words that very first day come rushing back. He’d insisted that there were things you needed to know, things that were the antithesis of romance, but he couldn’t be the one to teach you. It was ironic that the most confident alpha you’d met was secretly the most insecure. Damiano’s bravado was so well-cultivated that no one suspected it to be a facade.

“Why were you convinced I’d abandon you over this? The stress alone must have…” must have made it physically impossible to relax. 

“You can’t be so sure right away,” he argues.

“Do not insult my intelligence by implying I can’t make my own decisions.” Damiano falls silent, then takes your face in his hands. He stares at you, searching for comprehension.

“This is permanent; I am defective. Diseased. Unfixable.” He’s waiting for you to realize the gravity of the situation, recoil from his touch. You attempt patience, knowing you’re battling years of self-loathing.

“You. Are. Not. Broken to me.” His expression grows angry and you realize you’ve gone deep enough to challenge his sense of self. Damano was furious at a body which robbed him of basic control and all in life that comes with that. There was no rationalizing, only balancing the scales. It was time to remember and channel every bit of affection you’d felt for this alpha. Living the past year of your life with a guardian angel that respected your autonomy more than any you’d met. Damiano had spared you of so much fear. Meanwhile he was battling ruthless demons inside his own head.

You climbed back onto Dami’s lap, and stroked his scowling face. He allows these things, hands yearning to hold you.

“Someday I will make you accept that the shiny exterior isn’t the only version of yourself that is lovable. However long that takes, I’m staying.” Dami’s chin trembles and a tear falls as soon as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I don’t understand why you’d stay,” he whispers, voice wavering. At this point you wanted to lobotomize yourself with an icepick. At least, after this mess, you’ll never have to feel insecure about being difficult in the future.

“Why would I leave, love?” There's that “L” word again.

“Because everyone leaves!” he bellows. Damiano’s volume actually startles you, as does the lack of his embrace. He just stares at you: guilty, tortured. You kiss him on the forehead lightly, then on his eyelids which fall closed.

“You are the same person you were yesterday. The label is meaningless. I want you just the same.” Damiano careens forward, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his face to your neck. He takes a heaving breath and so do you, rocking back and forth.

“Getting you to be transparent has been like using a nail file to open a bank safe that's welded shut.” Dami snorts and wipes his nose. You reach up and grab the tissues from his night stand. Damiano blows so hard that you’re surprised his nostril doesn’t resume bleeding. 

“Gentle with yourself,” you murmur.

“I should have told you about this at the beginning, but families don’t let their kids date or befriend alphas with hormonal regulation issues. My parents hate that I hide it, but I’m selfish and when I realized I should stay away I just couldn’t. ‘Til your 16th birthday was mostly to buy time.” Having those last couple pieces of the puzzle that was Damiano David made everything else fit together right. It also began to lift the claustrophobia of a time restraint. 

“Right, so we also need to talk about that.” You stand up from his lap and sit on the edge of the bed. If you tried to do this already wrapped around each other it would be an epic failure. Dami follows, sitting cross legged in the center, extending a hand out to hold yours. He plays with your fingers, clasps your hand in his, then turns it over to trace the lines in your palm.

“I ache for you, Damiano. I feel sick over it. I could barely get myself out of bed on Wednesday.”

“It’s unnatural, all my guidelines.” He begins nervously tapping the side of your wrist. “The physical progression of our relationship is easy and primal, but I got in the way. Plus your birth control and hormone suppressants, your body must just be,” he trails off, shaking his head. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Fuck staying away. You crawl towards Dami so your foreheads are pressed together, both hands laced.

“I can’t wait until my 16th birthday. Even besides the sex it’s – it’s lonely. It feels like my molecules are screaming for you at night when things are totally silent. I want to like – I don’t know, walk to your house, climb in your window, or something crazy.”

“I know. Okay.”

“Nothing helps, Dami. Nothing. I’m on the verge of spraining my wrist and its so fucking frustrating because it doesn’t do anything. But, like, what else am I supposed to do?”

“I understand, love. I agree.”

“I’m literally drowning in my own libido and my instincts are –”

“Y/n, baby?” He gets your attention, looking into your eyes emphatically. “I won’t make you wait.” Your chest swells with butterflies so energized that you can barely contain a victorious shriek. You’d anticipated an hour of back and forth, but Damiano had simply agreed. All these things you’d lusted for, not available for another seven months, were possible. The warmth of his cum on your skin, felt from the inside. For days, traces would remain internally. If you had a semi-regular sex life you’d never truly have to be apart from Damiano again. Plus, you were both so close to nakedness already. The immediateness of your every fantasy was totally overwhelming.

 “Y/n, you should know that your parents will interfere when I tell them. I can’t mark you and then not be allowed to see you. That will fucking kill me, please. Knowing that the mark is fading.” Theres that tortured look again. You hated to see Damiano at odds with himself.

“Well, then I won’t tell them.They barely see you and it took me three months to figure it out.” His face goes blank for a moment. He hadn’t considered the path of least resistance because it wasn't the nobel option. Damiano’s expression becomes concerned, probably dealing with the morality of withholding information.

“Hey, it's my job to tell them, so you’re free of obligation. Easy,” you shrug.

“That seems too simple.” Surely, no one has a tendency to over think like your boyfriend. He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back.

 “I’d be honored to mark you, whenever that feels appropriate to you.” He barely has time to finish speaking before you’re overflowing with enthusiastic consent.

“Mark me, mark me. Baby, mark me. Please mark me. I’m yours, I am.” You get a hand in Damiano’s undercut, soft hair tickling between your fingers, and pull him so close your faces are pressed together. It feels like you might choke on the hope that's blooming in your chest. 

“I promise that I’m yours. I’m yours, so mark me. Mark –”

“I know you’re mine.” Dami pulls you onto his lap sideways. One arm goes under your mid-back and your legs are draped over his thigh. He’s cradling you like a child. It’s not the feral, sexual dominence forcing your into the mattress you’d expected. This is way more intimate, looking up into your alpha’s eyes while he gazed down at you with so much affection. 

“I’ve done this once before and it was rushed, stupid, and not with someone I really care about.” He pauses for so long that you nod in understanding, in case recognition is what Damiano was waiting for. “But I really care about how this feels and I don’t want you to be self-conscious. Let your body do what it wants.” Technically, marking didn’t necessitate the involvement of more than an omega’s external scent gland and an alpha’s teeth. However, omegas naturally found their way to orgasam because marking forcefully stimulated their most sensitive erogenous zones.

“I’ve never been marked or knotted,” you pant. Damiano’s other hand is on your flank, steadying as you begin to tremble in anticipation.

“I know,” he answers, doting.

“No other alpha has seen me naked or kissed me.” Dami’s eyes switch and a primal rumbling emanates from his sternum. This was exactly the reaction you wanted, to spur Damiano into action. He puffed out his chest in territorialism.

“I’ve never even been touched by another alpha,” you whisper, trying to subtly redirect his hand between your legs. “Please ruin me for anyone else.” Emulating virginal sweetness, you shift your hips to bring Damiano’s hand closer to your cunt. Looking determined, he pushes you from his lap and crouches over your body. 

“This is why I couldn’t be around you because you say things and I want to mate with you so fucking bad so no one else gets to touch you ever and I’ll be your only alpha forever you’ll be mine only so I can have you always and you’ll never belong to anyone else because you’re mine,” he snarls. Dami presses his face to your chest, licking between your breasts, up to your collarbones.

“I don’t know what anyone’s told you but this hurts, which is why it’s usually done during heat.” Even in alpha headspace, Dami’s expression is so obviously one of concern, rather than predatory. How could anyone have been terrified of him?

“I know, love.” 

“We’ll start lightly in case it’s too much.”

“I wanna be naked. Both of us.” You don’t need to explain this compulsion to Damiano. Nothing is more satisfying and organic than skin-to-skin without barriers. He takes off his boxers first. Alpha cocks are always intimidating, even half-mast. Your pointer finger finds the ridge at the head of Dami’s dick and traces all the way around. This is the place that would swell to form a knot, temporarily making the two of you one. His member twitches under your curious touch and grows more erect as Dami fiddles with your underwear.

It’s objectively gross, the way your panties are saturated with slick all the way through. The fabric loses its warmth rapidly when not directly in contact with your skin. If you shifted ever so slightly the cold, wet gusset rubbed against your body dreadfully. When Damiano removed your panties and brought the garment to his face to smell, you audibly made a sound of disgust.

“Ick.” He licked his lips and smirked at your reaction, eyes closed as he breathed in deep. He cock pulsed when the moist fabric crumpled in his hand, brought back to his face for one final sniff.

“I’m keeping these.”

“Please do,” you quip.

“Hmm, but I’m never gonna wash ‘em.” He raises his eyebrows provocatively while you gag. “Which do you think is gonna smell better when it dries, your sweat or your slick?”

“I’ve changed my mind, that whole shape thing shifting is weird.” Damiano bursts out laughing while throwing the offending panties off the side of the bed. You’d never made him cackle while in headspace so his canines are on display, as if his smile couldn’t get any more beautiful. 

“On your stomach with a pillow under your chest,” he instructs. You like that he doesn’t ask. Not just because the domineering is sexy as hell, but because it's what you would have chosen anyways. Only three months and your alpha can already read your mind.

“Actually wait.” You pause, sitting on your hip, about to turn over. Damiano begins finger combing your hair, dragging his nails across your scalp. The touch makes you shiver in delight. The point becomes apparent when Dami secures it with a hair tie. Your glands are now totally exposed and this makes it real. Marking isn’t just an act of intimacy, Dami has to pierce your scent gland, his saliva in the open wound changing your pheromonal signature.

Once you get situated, Dami puts his mouth on your skin right away. You freeze completely, only to feel the teasing brush of his canines.

“Relax love, we don’t break the skin until you want to.” You weren’t sure that you’d ever want to have your flesh pierced. It was an unfortunate responsibility. You’d hoped Damiano would give you a brief warning so you didn’t have time to overthink and do the deed of his own volition. Instead, he pushes a hand underneath your body and cups your vulva.

“You’re already so wet for me and so enthusiastic, love.” He rubs his erection against your flank, teasing. “I need you to know that if you ever want to stop –” You choke down the urge to protest, but it comes out as a dry sob when you don’t expect it. With your hips tilted dramatically, you could even rub your clit against Dami’s hand. Instead of moving it away, he provides generous resistance for you to rub against. It's such a gift. You test the boundaries, pinning his hand between your legs humping it gracelessly, using the edge of the pillow case as a gag. Rather than acting like marking and your sexuality were separate, he accepted this confluence. You kick your legs in response to even such minimal stimulation and whine loudly against the bedding.

“I know that feels so good baby, but I need you to submit.” You let out another gasping cry, because the world you had come to know wasn’t one where you could trust freely. You couldn’t help yourself from grinding back against Damiano’s rough palm, greedily. A sexual inertia had taken over your pelvis, seeking the satiation of a knot. Your body preparing to be marked was flooding with hormones that magnified every sensation and emotion. You weren’t unhappy, just so overwhelmed that it overflowed: in a couple small tears and in your movement. 

 “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he whispers in your ear. Now you understand why he kept reassuring you the first time, because this feeling was a possibility. Providing comfort, Damiano scents you just lightly enough that you can still think. 

“I know it's intense, so let me be in charge.” Fists balled, you force every muscle to still. It takes so much attention because your brain is clouding from the weight of Damaino’s body, the warmth of his form, texture of his skin, and most of all his smell. It’s not that earthy aroma of springtime that you associate with his pheromones, detectable in his sheets. Damiano smells of sweat from practice, long ago overpowering any deodorant. He reeks of testosterone and a special musk emanates from his armpits and groin. Somehow, the combination of all these things makes you go limp with arousal.

Even as you can observe Damiano smells genuinely unpleasant, another sect of your sexuality is violently aroused. You want to give him a bath with your tongue, lick him clean. Only then do you realize what makes his scent so enticing: he smells like you.   

“I don’t want to go into headspace yet,” you whimper.

“You don’t have to. Submit.” You take a shuddering breath, trying to find that place inside you that longed to be led, rather than lead.

“I’ll try,” you mewl, in your softest voice. You barely summon the strength not to beg for what you really want: a knot. There's a raging conflict inside you: the part that wants Dami to mark you with his cum and the other that doesn’t want to interfere with progress. What’s so excruciating is there will never be another first time. This moment is finite. You’re externalizing this conflict by squirming around underneath Damiano who can immediately sense your discomfort. Assuming its arousal, he presses a finger inside.

That driving inertia takes over and you’re pushing back against Damiano so hard that his muscles are straining. The meat of his hand is firm against your throbbing clit and it's glorious. You can’t get his finger deep enough to satisfy some demanding hunger you had no name for. All you could communicate was this wasn’t enough anymore by whining like you’re wounded.

“Baby what's happened? Lemme make it better.” Damiano had never seen your discomfort unshrouded. It was heart-wrenching to watch your face twisted in an expression that bordered between pleasure and anguish.

“Y/n, what can I do?” He adds another finger, hoping it's what you need. However, you already know that two digits isn’t substantial enough so you try changing the angle by turning onto your side. It knocks Damiano off of you.

“I’m in charge,” he reminds you. “If you want me to mark you like this, ask with your words.” No, this certainly wasn't the feral interaction you’d fantasized about, but it was exactly what you needed. Damiano’s tone had the patience of a caretaker, always giving you the benefit of the doubt. If he’d barked orders you would have burst into tears. He saw your vulnerability when you’d forgotten about its existence.

“I’m just tryna – I need, I need…” He begins moving his fingers back and forth, assuming that more is the answer you’re struggling to verbalize. While this isn’t the case, the new stimulation does feel amazing and you seek out his hard cock without thinking. When Dami scoots away from your body a couple more tears fall and those tears become a powerful sob. You’re just trying to do what’s most natural and he won’t let you. There's simply no alternative. Damiano is the stronger of you two, so no matter how much you seek him out, he decides. 

You hate this very visceral reaction to fighting for your needs. Unfortunately, trying not to cry only makes the tears more numerous.

“Love, I need you to tell me how to fix it. I can’t watch you cry, lemme fix it, baby.” He runs a finger down your cheek and is riddled with insecurity about his role. There are no precise answers. Following instincts you’ve only just discovered is messy and you always live with such brazen commitment. This experience is equally raw and potent. Although Dami is aware this response is hormonal, your very visible discomfort is hard to stomach. He knows you won’t abandon him regardless of how this goes and that's what makes it scary. How many people in our lives will stay when we fail them completely?

 After managing a few deep breaths, you ease back into position with the help of Dami. He gives you the best reward: a third finger. You relax completely and it goes in with an ease that others would want you to feel shame for.

“Good girl, y/n. You listened so well, being such a good omega.” You want to express gratitude, but what comes out is a tactless gargle of noise. Dami doesn’t laugh at you. The amount of arousal dripping down Damiano’s fingers is making squealing sounds as they thrust in and out of your body. He doesn’t mock this either. 

“Taking three so perfect. Can I stretch you out, love? Is that okay?” You push your hips back. At first Dami just holds steady, but then he helps you integrate all three at once by using some force. When you get them all the way to the last knuckle, he growls in appreciation, scenting you again. It's that woodsy smell you’ve come to know and love with a Pavlovian level of intensity. When you’d gone for a walk with Gia in what used to be a Christmas tree farm, the smell of the pine made you feel euphoric because of the association with Damiano.

That euphoria had nothing on your experience now, being surrounded with the real thing. Slipping into headspace was nearly irresistible even though you desperately wanted to be present for the coming moments. Last time you’d made love, you’d worried about headspace, and Dami had kept you present. Maybe he could fix it.

“I don’t like this.” Gulp. “How do I –” Sniffle. “Make it stop.” Damiano sighs, gently kissing each freckle on your shoulder in consulation. He’s giving you every ounce of his body weight, even resting his legs on yours. A less experienced person would be afraid of crushing you. In reality the deep pressure prompted the release of dopamine. Dami’s cock is so erect that it’s a little painful against your back. You imagine his pre-cum trapped between his body and yours. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel your skin sticking together, like you’d never been separate beings to begin with.  

“Do you know the science behind why this feels so good?” he whispers. “The bacteria on our gut is highly compatible. When our brain senses that about another body it releases hormones which are a huge part of what makes my presence so attractive.” You’re not sure why Damiano is telling you this, but the timbre of his voice makes it easier to breathe. “Smell is the only sense with a straight shot to our primal brain. So everything you’re feeling is normal.”

“But can’t you –”

“I can’t fix something that isn’t broken, baby.” 

“Knot,” you finally break with a sob. “Gimme a knot. Knot me. Knot me, knot me, knot me, knot me. You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about Dami? What's been driving me up a wall?” He repositions and in doing so rests his forearm right above your head while getting his legs under him. You let out a pitiful noise at the loss of contact.

“Tilt your head to the side so you can breathe,” he replies calmly, adjusting the pillow so it’s under your chest. You scoot up, kissing Dami’s hand as a translation to licking his skin. It’s salty and you can feel each flexed tendon with your tongue upon moving down to his wrist.

“Turn your head,” he repeats. Your vocalizations have been so frustratingly ineffective that you resort to something more primal and nip the meat of his hand in retribution for disregarding your request. After begging, Damiano should at least extend the decency or a yes or no. 

He tsks, scooting his arm up, almost out of reach. His quick movement triggers some primal response and you bite him to keep him close. Sure you could use your hands, but for some reason your jaw came to mind first.

“Y/n,” he warns. It feels strange to hear your own name because you don’t feel like y/n right now, you feel like an omega. To communicate this, you nibble gently on the base of his thumb, just scraping your teeth against the skin because that comes more naturally than lips. You switch to the middle of his forearm, which feels muscular and sturdy and allows you to use more force. Nipping turns into creating those petal shaped marks to adorn Damiano’s skin.

To his credit, Dami was expecting this. You’d been using your teeth to convey affection since gameday, probably unaware. Making out always included pulling his lip into your mouth over and over, almost obsessively. As if you were trying to eat him alive. Whenever you kiss his neck, shoulder, jaw, etc. Damiano could feel the hard surface of your teeth just under your lips. He’d tickled you on Sunday after you’d woken up, and you outright bit him over his sweatshirt. He’d been shocked while you giggled against his neck, totally unaware. It was so subconscious that he didn’t know what to do. It wouldn’t be fair to discipline you for urges beyond your control. 

Daminao accidently scooted his arm another millimeter away. You mewled in disagreement and latched on. There was something so compelling about resistance of the muscular tissue. It was a texture thing, but also the warmth of his skin and the taste. Instead of attempting reason, Dami bit you back. It's a warning bite, not nearly as rough. The realization hits you that this is what you’ve been craving intuitively, for days, maybe more. 

For these reasons, you expect it not to hurt, but the pain is searing. At the same time it's the most satiating thing you’ve ever felt. You hump Damiano’s hand manically, squealing into the bedding. You try to ask for another finger, having lost count at his point. The words don’t come out clearly so you wiggle your hips and arch hard. He releases his jaw, moving his lips against your skin. You can’t tune into what he’s saying, but are so sexually frustrated that you kick like you’re having a tantrum. Damiano heeds your unspoken request, working at a snail's pace. But when your physicality definitively reveals that yes, you do want another finger, he gives you a little help integrating it. It feels full enough that you can actually think.

“Kitten?” Dami’s cock jumps at your responsiveness, before concern takes over at your lack of communication. “‘Kitten? Hey, hey, hey. Ok, baby. Y/n?” 

“Don’t call me that,” you whimper, as your eyes focus on the sight in front of you: Damiano’s arm, marked with various tooth shaped bruises. This is sufficient to land you back into reality and you gasp in horror, breathing in the bed sheet as you do. Dami gives up and  physically turns your head to the side himself.

“Hmm, someone got distracted. You went a little feral there for a second, kitten.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Sometimes giving into instincts with Damiano is a little too easy.

“You need to be gentler,” he states, firmly. You’d hurt him. After everything he’d been through today, you’d hurt him.

“I’m really, really so – sorry,” you sniff, trying to hold back tears once again. It was totally counterproductive (again.)

“Shh, everything’s okay. It’s just your instincts wanting to mate, love,” he soothes. “It's okay to mark your territory in the meantime, but gentler.” Damiano referring to himself as “you territory” absolutely did something between your legs. Even though slick production was limited by hormone suppressants, it was still embarrassingly plentiful. Damiano could feel every pulse, every rush, every tense with the hand against your cunt.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers and you want to cry, because you’d spent your entire adolescence terrified of subservience to an alpha and this wasn’t scary at all. This didn’t feel like being forced into anything, it was meditative, safe.

“Why – why won’t you listen?” Your voice is so wobbly it's hard to hear.

“I was listening,” he murmurs, kissing your hair as his own falls in your face.

“No. No, you were –”

“Making sure you could breathe,” he interrupts. “Because your well-being is my purpose.” You feel small, immature. “Now what did you mean –”

“But I need a knot! Because, because I – it feels like…I just need it,” you finish lamely. What you wanted to say is I need a knot because everything inside me echoes with an emptiness that you were made to fill. Because you’re the flood that fertilizes the plain. Because you’re the salve that soothes the ache. Because you’re the seed from which the garden flourishes. Because you’re the warmth that turns shivers into peaceful sleep.

“I feel so empty and you can fix it so why won't you fix it?” Your plea is desperate, spilling out unfiltered. You’d think that getting fingered would satisfy that need to be filled, but it was deeper than that, past what he could reach with any appendage. What you ached for was the warmth of Damiano’s cum. He presses his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I promise you’ll get your knot, kitten.” Surely Dami can’t actually mean…

“Are you fucking with me right now?” you demand. That had come too easy for it to be true.

“No that’d be so cruel, love, I wouldn’t do that.” You burst out into heaving, ugly sobs, crying so hard that your hands come to your face. Your hips stop moving completely and your thighs relax. The relief of his statement feels better than some orgasams. It’s that same rush of happy chemicals so intense it feels like you're choking on the endorphins.  

“Oh my god,” he murmurs in horror at your intense reaction. Dami wraps both arms around you, shifting onto his side. Accidentally, he nudges your glute with his erection. You move towards it, scooting up so the head is pressed between your legs. It's a challenge for Dami to maintain control because no matter how he shifts, there’s slick wetting his cock. Your cunt is so engorged that it pulses against the head and Damiano can already feel the urge to knot in his groin.

“Now, please,” you whisper, undulating your hips along his dick. 

“Not while you’re crying,” he huffs. Despite Damiano’s insistence, his cock twitched as you slid it between your labia. Thighs squeezed tightly together, you bring his shaft right against your body. With just slight adjustments, the head was nudging your clit and you moaned quietly. Why haven't you done this before? Dami’s cock was warm, girthy, skin softer than you’d imagined.

“Baby, please, please, I’m begging you, I need to think.” You halt moving and his chest heaves against your side for a few seconds. You decide to speak up.

“I’m not sad. I know I’ll stop crying if you just –”

“Show me your face. I have to see your face.” You drop your hands and wipe your nose, looking over your shoulder at Damiano. He’s in headspace, you both are.

“Do I look different?”

“You smell different, like a little piece of heaven tailor-made for me.” His chest heaves and nostrils flare as Damiano tries to absorb your essence through each pore. Of course you both know the best way to do that, to fulfill that craving for sameness.

“I’m terrified that what happened before is gonna happen now and this is so important to me that…In my rational brain I know there's no issues but part of me is screaming that I’m about to destroy everything and if that happened I couldn’t live with myself,” he babbles. You bring a hand to his cheek and Dami stares back at you. He’s analyzing every inch of your expression for fear or disgust. His gaze is so intense that you want to shrink back, but instead you allow yourself to be seen.

Why use words to assure him when all he needed was to observe the way you look at him? It was so much more honest than concocting some personalized platitude. Dami already knew his fears were unfounded, but his insecurity still needs proof. After a thorough search, he of course comes up empty handed and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“There aren’t words to describe how bad I want this,” you assure. He unwraps his arms, moving into a functional position that allows him to watch your expressions. You look back, heart thundering when Damiano drops his gaze down to his cock. 

“Our first time was like this, remember?” 

“Of fucking course I remember,” he scoffs, kissing your shoulder. “I’ll always remember.” Damiano positions himself against your entrance, holding his shaft at an angle. When he pushes forward into your pussy, you tilt backward in equal measure. This both expedites the progress and communicates your enthusiastic consent.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you hissed as soon as the head of his dick was inside. Your hymen was a little sore, but it didn’t sting like it had in the past. You’d expected this to be the most painful penetration you’d experienced, but were determined to take every inch, no matter how bad it hurt. This was not the sensation you’d been anticipating with girth like Damiano. You moan again and he freezes.

“Mm, it's good,” you reassure. “Why is it easy? I thought it was gonna be…uh, mhm.” Dami gives you another inch, beginning to tremble.

“You’re really relaxed, because you trust me,” he pants. “And that helps, but we also just…just kinda fit.” You take a deep breath in, and he delivers another push on the out breath, whimpering. 

“We fit,” you repeat, eyes fluttering, but mouth falling open in pleasure. “Yeah we – we ah ah, Damiano,” you squeal. A jolt of pleasure caused you to squeeze down on what could be a knot.

“Is that –”

“Just your g-spot, baby.” He gives you a couple shallow thrusts before pushing deeper in. “Scent glands,” he murmurs, a moment after which your spasm violently. No cock had ever properly stimulated this erogenous zone. The touch had always been so aggravatingly inconsistent and inexperienced that you recoiled. Whereas Daminao left you searching for something to hold on to all while a rush of slick moistened everything, half way down to your knees.

“Oh my fucking god,” Dami mewled, resting his face on your shoulder as you clenched down on his cock. His hips delivered short, rapid thrusts and Damiano threw an arm over to hold himself up. You squeezed down again and Dami made a sound like he was in pain, but his hips twitched just the same. It was then that you realized this movement was involuntary, the same way tensing was involuntary. 

“Is that all of it?” you questioned, since he wasn’t moving deeper.

“Need a sec,” he pants, propping himself up.

“It's okay if you need to cum,” you reassure. Damiano snorts, cheek bone resting on your shoulder.

“My stamina is a little better than that, love.” He starts exploring what angle felt easiest before freezing completely. It’d been so long since he’d produced a knot. It happened sometimes in his sleep like nocturnal ejaculations, but it couldn’t be prompted with typical masturbation. The urge started in his groin, a suffocating pressure, that somehow brought relief and more unbearable intensity as it spread to the base of his cock. 

Although everything felt the same, the sudden change in behavior tipped you off. Damiano pushed in until it was suddenly painful and you startled. His hips ceased forward motion. Instead, Damiano went back to searching for a more stable position, restless in a way that you recognized as mitigating discomfort.

“Just give me a sec and I’ll take all of it.” You focus on relaxing your pelvis, making room for the intrusion.

“That’s your cervix, love.” Anatomically, there was nowhere else to go, but still you yearned to have Damiano’s cock fully seated. This frustration was contained in a whine that became a high pitched growl.

“You took so much more than I thought you could, baby. Four fingers and almost all of my cock? You’re amazing,” he coos.

“Four fingers,” you choke, face burning with shame. What the fuck would Dami think of a someone who could take four fingers their first time? He might as well have fisted you. What did you have left to give?”

“Mhm, and moaned so pretty when I gave it to you,” he compliments. Damiano turns his face away when he grimaces, shifting around in discomfort at the pressure building at the base of his cock.

“Why would you give me four?” Your tone comes out more accusatory when that's not the intent. 

“Because you asked for them, baby. You were enjoying yourself. Don’t feel embarrassed.” You try to let that self-consciousness go, because clearly Damiano had no problem. He propped himself up with one hand and wrapped his other arm around your stomach. Suddenly it took everything in him to hold back. Damiano strained, nose scrunched, eyes squeezed shut. You knew what was happening and your heart pounded in your ears.

“Dami, please –”

“Once I start I won’t have control,” he grunts.

“I’m sure about you.” Damiano recognizes those words, the very same phrase you used that first day. His features relax one at a time until his mouth falls open and a drop of saliva lands on your shoulder. You’d figured it’d be instantaneous, but you don’t feel any change. Damiano obviously does. 

“Ti do il mio cuore,” he whispers. You’re trying to figure out if you’ve misheard him when Damiano’s hips spasam and his grip around you tightens. Dami scents himself, rubbing his cheek against your glands roughly. It’s a masturbatory act that shocks you, but the erotisicm turns you on many times more. Apparently he wanted your pheromones on his skin so badly he couldn’t wait for you to realize this fact. 

Dami’s movement had changed where you felt pressure internally, stimulating your scent glands so directly that you yelped in surprise. His lips found your shoulder, gentle kisses to comfort and you realized his pelvis wasn’t moving at all. This sensation of pressure everywhere was a knot. Your head fell against the mattress, unable to hold its weight and mitigate all your were feeling, but smiling wide. Being released from all the craving and anticipation couldn’t be described as anything but unadulterated joy. 

A stinging pain made you look up at your shoulder and found Damiano viciously working a hickey.. The vein in his forehead was prominent and his canines scraped your shoulder. He could have pierced the skin, but was choosing not to, or perhaps forcing himself not to. His teeth became more demanding and that sensation of widespread arousal behind your belly button turned uncomfortable, then achy. 

You tried to scoot away, but Dami growled and yanked you back, snapping his jaw by your ear in warning. Pulling out during a knot never ends well. For many omegas it wasn’t even anatomically possible. You whine at the discomfort and Damiano begins thrusting in and out, dispersing the pressure. As he did this the knot thickened and you growled in frustration. Things had been going so smoothly before. Now you felt short of breath because of the intrusion. You’d anticipated it being a bit sore, but never that the pain wouldn’t be sexy.

Damiano’s thrusts were frenzied, his knot massaging your g-spot then brushing your scent glands unevenly. He grunted during each pass, until those sounds turned to moans.

“That’s all,” he slurs. All that delicious and excruciating pressure had abated and now Dami could piece together a thought. You try to to relax, try to enjoy it, but you’re so fucking cramped. His cock was already more than you tried to fit before, but this was unattainable. All those omegas who talked about getting a knot whenever possible had been bullshitting. Sure, they hadn’t been lying about the pleasure, but they neglected to describe an ache so intense it negated everything good. How the fuck do people reach orgasam like this?

Noticing your distress, Damiano slowed his thrusts and kept them shallow. When that wasn’t effective, he figured that maybe the knot was more comfortable deeper inside. So Dami shifted to little thrusts, nearly to the hilt then halfway out. Still, your hands were balled into firsts. So he moved even slower which seemed to make this worse. Cumming was the only solution to lose the knot, but he couldn’t even get close to the edge seeing how much you weren’t enjoying this. So Damiano stopped, thinking maybe some cuddles would help you relax. He could manage gentle touch if you needed him to.

“This isn’t working for you.” You whine in displeasure, trying to figure out how knotting was supposed to soothing. It occurred to you that laying on your side probably restricted your pelvis more than any other position. Just trying to open up your hips and create room, you place your top leg on the mattress and naturally extend your arm out for the sake of balance.

Dami follows this time instead of stopping you. Internally he’s kicking himself, because of course you’d want to go on your tummy. It was always the position you naturally took with him. Damiano had been so focused on seeing your face that he’d ignored preferences your body had made blatantly obvious. Helping you along, he grabbed your extended leg under the knee and pulled it just below a 90 degree angle. His cock sank in with far less force. You let out a happy hum and he looked up to see your face relaxing the more you rocked your hips to get comfy. 

“Like this? Not your tummy?” Rather than answering, you encourage Damiano by rocking your hips against him instead. This new position had totally changed the sensation and the angle felt less confined too. The pressure of his knot was still intrusive, but not unwelcome. You time your breathing with Damiano’s thrusts, which are tame and careful. He’s wrangled that out of control, frantic desire. It’s a relief, but you can feel the inertia in his groin, wanting to thrust to the hilt forcefully.

Checking if he’s bored from all the time it’s taking you to acclimate, you focus on Dami. His eyes are fluttering as he tries to watch you, but becomes overwhelmed by sensation. When he realizes you’re staring, Dami smiles drunkenly, breathing hard as he drops his lips down to your shoulder and rests his cheek there. You’ve never seen him more relaxed. He moves into you with his entire being, upper body surging forward with each thrust. It’s instantly better with his skin touching yours. Dami must feel it too, because he rests on top of you. 

Every time your heart hurt like an open wound, craving all of your alpha with no barriers, had led up to this. Damiano’s warm cheek gave way to his bare chest, to his quivering stomach, to his muscular thighs, and you were denied what lay between. Now, you could trace every place you’d ever begged for more down to where he pulses inside you. There is no stopping point. He’s yours entirely. No tiding yourself over with pieces and fantasies that left you with a gnawing sexual frustration.

The only issue is Damiano’s weight pressing you into the bed. You had to keep your muscles actively engaged, so you didn’t end up flat on the mattress. The position felt so good that readjusting your leg constantly was worth it, but it also meant you couldn’t rest. 

When Damiano realized this he grabbed a pillow, stuffing it right under the hinge of your left hip. This of course also positioned it under your cunt and you feel a bout of insecurity. You’d never been knotted, had no idea how much slick should result from it. What if it was too little and Damiano was insulted?

“I’m gonna wreck it,” you squeak.

“We’re gonna wreck it,” he corrects. “Relax.” When you stay frozen he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. “That wasn’t a suggestion,” he snarls, sending a shiver down your spine. You disengage your muscles, and the pillow does its job, holding the position for you. Ever so slowly, Damiano sinks in until his cock is fully sheathed. Just resting his body weight against you is enough, skin against skin everywhere it's possible. Gravity does the rest of the work. When Dami finally gets to laze against you it's euphoric. His cock twitches inside when you moan quietly, shifting your hips some more.

Damiano drags his canines along your shoulder, focusing on marking now that you’re enjoying yourself. All the hair stands on end in anticipation and a healthy dose of fear. You tilt your head to the side, making your left scent gland accessible. He can see that you’re nervous, but still compiling, trusting.

“Starting small so you’re not frightened,” he narrates. He bites down as he had earlier, roughly working a hickey into the base of your neck where it can be covered. You’re shifting around again and he looks down to discover the real issue. Your clit is pressed into the pillow and you’re struggling to hold back because you haven’t been permitted to use it this way.

“Oh, omega wants to rub herself on that huh?” You look down to the pillow guiltily. “Do you think that’d feel good? Go ahead,” he encourages. The case is medium blue and made of thin cotton. If you did this it’d be unusable, but the fabric is so soft and the pillow plump enough for some resistance. 

Thing is, you hadn’t been holding back for Damiano’s sake. You’d devoted your adolescence thus far to not being this omega: ruled by an insatiable sexuality that compelled them to be depraved things like hump pillow cases or the arms of couches. The present issue is that Dami’s knot has rendered every erogenous zone in your groin highly sensitive. So while your clit is throbbing so hard each beat aches, and while your heart flutters at the thought of grinding your pussy against that pillow, initiating the stimulation is intimidating. Sure the sensation will probably be far better than holding back, but you’re not willing to sacrifice this last bit of control to find out.

“Go ahead, love,” Dami repeats, assuming that you hadn’t heard him. You whine, trying to hide your face in shame.

“What if it hurts?” you whimper. 

“It’s not gonna hurt,” he soothes. Damiano kisses the back of your neck, gives you a genius amount of time to comply. 

“I don’t wanna,” you try.

“Do. Not. Lie to me,” he snarls and you cower against the mattress. He delivers another warning bite, except this time it's more like a retribution bite. Damiano means to hurt you a little. Discipline isn’t supposed to be enjoyable. It makes you squeal and your hips quiver against the pillow. You know that the pain has been intentionally administered and that's why you like it so much, because it demands subservience. 

Dami bites you again, but it's loving, a painless nip. He noses around your scent gland as you come out of your shell, finally relinquishing control. He lets out a rumbling hum, and with every molecule of your being you know its praise. So often it felt like you could do nothing right, or to other people’s standards. But just now you’d made a mistake, taken a correction, and your mate was showering you in recognition. Dami licked your neck in all the best places and his hand found your nipple to play with.

“Good omega,” he soothes and tears sprang to your eyes. All you've done is not fuck up further. But Dami was rubbing your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb in a way that made your peripheral vision go fuzzy. He administered a couple more love nips on your upper back and pressed his face against your skin, purring. So really, heeding his request was the most natural thing in the world.

“We’re going to try together,” Damiano orders. He presses you against the pillow and slowly drives forward, dragging you clit across the entire length. You’re trembling beneath him, crying. These aren’t the same tears you’d shed earlier, they were tears of pleasure. Even though Dami just meant to get you started, you stay with him as he repeats the motion over and over, dragging your cunt back and forth. 

“When was the last time you did this?” Self restraint was odd behavior for the situation.

“Never.” Your voice is so low it's barely audible.

“Why not, baby?”

 “I don’t know how,” you plead. The act had always been too intimidating. Even as you say the words, your hips are finding their own speed, one much faster than Damiano’s. He was glad you couldn’t see his face of genuine confusion. You loved friction: his hand, the crotch of his jeans, his thigh. Even when Dami administered touch you’d rub your clit up and down the pad of his finger rather than letting him do the work. Did you even know your own preferences? 

Now that you’ve allowed yourself, the movement is messy and embarrassing because it's desperate. Grinding your pussy against the pillow is intuitive and your alpha is just following to the best of his ability. The grunts and broken moans you’re letting out aren’t pretty or feminine. It was apparent that you desperately needed to orgasam this way, but refused to give yourself permission.

“You’re gonna cum on my knot, omega.” Damiano decides for you. Searching for assurance, you reach out and hold his hand. Dami squeezes back, recognizing the way you’ve begun to tense and tremble. Even when he’s not doing much, you always have the most intense orgasams about your alpha. This one feels like hot coals turned inferno and you desperately want to finish because it's insupportable. 

Climaxing while knotted is easy, but you’re crying in overwhelm, then choking on your own air. Damiano scents you while also squeezing your hand rhythmically, slowing his thrusts even though it’s less pleasurable. He becomes your metronome and your entire body falls in sync. Dami keeps you from crash landing on the other side of your orgasam. Instead, you both intuitively find each other in the middle with an untaught movement neither has to think about. It’s not quite thrusting, but your bodies roll together in a way that falls organic, like the beating of a heart.

“You can bite me harder.” Your orgasam had prompted a wave of courage. Damiano moves his mouth closer to your neck and bites again. The pain is white hot and you’re kicking so hard that you kick him. In any other state of mind, the collision of the top of your foot with his shin would have gritted your teeth in pain. Right now that sensation has nothing on the throbbing bite mark. Yet, when Dami releases his jaw you miss the pressure of his teeth.

“Again,” you request, breathless. Damiano bites down and a very primal part of your mind that’s been awaiting a mark confuses all that adrenaline from pain with pleasure and gives you a powerful rush of oxytocin. With your bond it’s not really necessary though. If Damiano had told you to take it, even though it hurt, getting to appease his request would be enough to offset any discomfort. 

Things start to blend together: fear and arousal, pain and orgasmic pleasure, where Damiano’s knot ends and your vagina begins. Of course you know that you're separate beings, but there's no discernable evidence, just the reassuring ache in your core. Already traces of Dami were collecting inside you, every bit of pre-cum preserved. You hadn’t lost a single drop of Damiano and that fact made you tear the fitted sheet off of the corner of the bed in ardor.

You’d been moaning so loudly and so often and Dami quickly realized you weren’t even conscious of it. He should probably tell you to quiet down, but he’d never consider interrupting whatever you were feeling right now. Your eyes rolling back in your head in response to the biting was equal parts relief and turn-on. You were arching up towards him with every part of your body, trying to get closer and holding his hand in a vice grip. He literally pins you to the bed, which causes things to shift and reveals a long, wet streak on the pillow. 

“Mm, mark me. Ma – mark me,” you stutter. Dami takes a shaky breath and bites your scent gland. There’s pressure, but not the blazing agony you were expecting. He was hesitating, not wanting to injure you. At the same time Damiano’s canines craved burying themselves in the muscle of your neck. He couldn’t help but admire your tender expression: slightly drooling in relaxation, cheeks flushed, sweat, stray hairs stuck to your forehead. 

Damiano had thought that your yearning for this was uninformed, but at every turn you’d welcomed and adapted. Trusting, so fucking trusting after seeing him totally loose it today. He could just as easily pierce your jugular and you’d be dead in 60 seconds. You both knew he held your life in his hand, and could close his fist at will, but you lived in the certainty that he would never harm you. Your unwavering belief that he was fundamentally good made Dami a better person.

“Break the skin,” you whine. “God, please break the skin. Please, please –” Outright begging, Damiano finally gave himself permission, and you do feel the exact moment he pierces your scent gland. Dami has to bite down hard and the sensation of breaking flesh is immediately pleasing, even though the taste of blood is not. Pheromonal excretions flood his taste buds, both sweet and musky. It's the strongest dose he’s ever gonna get and he doesn’t want to let go. Dami is aggressively snapping his hips against yours before he can stop himself, aroused beyond comprehension. 

The force makes you yelp then go pliant, as do Damiano’s vicious growls which have taken the place of moans. Your brain kind of turns to static, like changing the channel to one that has no programming. The TV is still on but the signal isn’t reaching anything. The inertia in your pelvis demands that you rut against the pillow harshly, disregarding Dami’s pace. His teeth do tug at the skin painfully while you move, but you reach orgasam so easily that it's irrelevant. Your climax takes the form of a full body shudder where everything tenses momentarily then relaxes so completely you can’t move. Behind your eyes rays of white hot energy all band together as you peak in the most intense orgasam of your life. This very visceral visual fades into warmth that travels throughout your entire body, fingertips and toes.

Meanwhile, Dami forces himself to release his jaw. The small, narrow crescent shaped hole of your scent gland is inflamed, but not bleeding. One of his front teeth landed directly on the gland, which explains the burst of excretions in Damiano’s mouth. The two puncture wounds left by his canines on either side are a little bloody, though. Damiano’s front teeth have left deep marks as well, but everything else is bruising deep purple.

You’re squirming beneath him, probably in tremendous pain. Your face scrunches in tension, then releases completely.

“Kitten? I need you to use your words right now.” It takes you a second to remember how to speak.

“M’ here,” you reply. Damiano’s stomach rests on our tailbone. The amount of slick on your thighs is absolutely horrendous and the sensation makes you grimace.

“How much pain are you in, love?” Dami scolds himself for not looking up how deep a bite was needed for effective marking. This had to be excessive. 

“M’ not,” you murmur, thumb stroking the back of Damiano’s hand. Even though he knows this to be temporary, Dami is so relieved that he peppers kisses across your face. The sensation makes you smile and wiggle around adorably.

“Wha’ ‘er you doin,’” you giggle. Your legs are basically adhered together by slick and it stings when you move. Your nose wrinkles in displeasure and it makes Damiano worry.

“Why the face?” You groan in annoyance at the necessity of speech.

“Slick.” You shift around some more, trying to find comfort and realizing the position itself wasn’t comfortable. You decide on having both hips propped up so you don't feel so uneven, extending the hand holding Dami’s all the way out and following it with your upper body.

Although he’s surprised to feel you moving so soon after getting marked, Dami heeds your instincts again. Watching the way you slowly shift, stretching every muscle as you move is so sexy. When you release his hand, after one final squeeze, Damiano gets on all fours. He tries to pull the pillow out from under you so you can lay flat like usual, but you growl at him. Daminao instead tries putting it squarely under your hips, earning a hum on contentment. Chest to the mattress with knees bent allowed you to be an active participant. Instead of having this be something done to you by your alpha, each undulation you rock back and forth together.

After getting marked and cumming twice with a knot, Damiano is unsure how your body will respond. He carefully sinks his cock inside, paying attention to if you’re arching back or pulling away. The position allows him to get deeper, a lot deeper, in fact. This was the only orientation so far that had permitted him to really thrust, building momentum. Directly on your side was awkward and tilted was exhausting. 

“Deeper,” you demanded. Experimentally, Damiano gave you every inch of his cock, making sure you could take it. You whine in impatience and he wants to eat you alive. Angeling his dick towards your belly, Dami pulls back fully then thrusts until his pubic hair is tickling your glutes. These long strokes are getting some primal, happy noises, but it's not the drastic reaction he wanted. Damiano focuses on stimulating your scent glands, but there's a place further inside that aches for attention. Maybe it could only be reached by ejaculation, or maybe if you arched hard and thrusted back harder, the tip of Dami’s cock could get there.

So on the next pass you drive back against Dami forcefully. He’s about to scold you for damn near knocking over when he feels your feet pound against the mattress and your cunt clench in pleasure. On the next thrust he holds your hips steady and grinds against you, getting that extra quarter inch you need to squeal his name.

“Dami, Dami! Oh my fucking god,” you mewl.

“You want me to touch your a-spot, sweet girl. Did you even know that’s what this is called?” You shake your head, slamming the palm of your hand against the bed. There was no way to find this with your own fingers, Damiano realized. Yet, your instincts couldn’t have chosen a better position for this particular stimulation. 

“Knew exactly what you needed, didn’t you?” Damiano hits a really steep, invasive angle as he finishes his sentence. You surge backwards, whimpering at the gentle touch that accompanies such a jarring sensation. Damiano runs a calming hand up your back while shortening his thrusts. He pulls halfway out then plunges as deep as possible. 

“That,” you pant. “That, that, that!” At first the sensation was strange.You weren’t sure what compelled you to change position for this. But after a couple thrusts the newness was gone and replaced with complete satiation. It wasn’t the electric stimulation of the g-spot, but made everything feel full and effortless. Only the head of Damiano’s cock could reach which meant that his knot was rubbing against the top of your internal scent glands. The stimulation itself was really, really deep. You hadn’t even known your vaginal canal went back that far, but of course Damiano did.

“Whatever you just…again or…or more, or…fuck something,” you moaned, lost for words at the change in sensation. Dami shorted his thrusts even further, seeing you grab handfuls of the rumpled bed sheets. 

“Ah, uh god! Dami!” you shriek. He smiles at your visceral reaction, happy to get it so right the first time. After tearing into your neck with his teeth he wants you to feel amazing and clearly it's working because you’re dripping onto the bed. He’s not gonna announce that because you’ll get self-conscious. Damiano is also not about to tell you how damn loud you’re being, because you’re enjoying yourself too much and he doesn’t particularly care if it annoys his brother. 

“Turn your head, love,” he gently coaches. 

“M okay,” you answer. Dami shortens his thrusts even further and you bite down on the sheet and mattress cover while squealing. This motion is actually easier for Damiano, and allows him to consider his own orgasam. His bollocks were tight against his body, heavy and aching with his seed. 

“More that,” you murmur, struggling to form words. Damiano switches to just pulsing against your a-spot. He only pulls out a half inch then grinds hard, tilting his hips at a downward angle as much as possible. It barely counts as thrusting, so he’s expecting a correction.

“Oh please! Just please, please, please,” you wail, stilling your pelvis and finally letting him do the work. It's the catharsis of a craving that's been haunting you for weeks, in waking hours and in sleep. 

“This what my omega needs?” You try to answer, but the title just makes everything fuzzy and warm. Damiano filling you up in every way possible exacerbated the instinct to submit. You hoped he didn’t think you were ignoring him as your eyelids grow heavy. Right now your internal scent glands were a headspace button and Dami was rubbing his knot up and down, up and down.

“Kitten? Kitten?” Damiano threads his fingers into your hair, which has mostly fallen out of its updo. It's just another glorious sensation to layer on top and you try to thank him, but it comes out as a hum in the back of your throat. Damiano turns your head to the side, speeding up his pace since the limited motion was so manageable. Your eyes roll back in your head then fall close. Dami reaches to caress your breast, feeling your chest heave. He tries to figure out how close you are to orgasam or if that’s what you’re experiencing right now. 

You look peaceful, and when Dami realizes you’re purring, he knows everything is okay. He keeps up with that thrusting pattern you like, not wanting to stop stimulation you’d collaborated so well to find. However, he was positioned on all fours, and you lay on the bed, which left a distressing distance between your bodies.

“Y/n? Omega?” You could perceive the warmth of Damiano’s voice, but identfying the words was a challenge. It was comforting just the same, since you recognized the vocal tone as belonging to your alpha. His hand was in your hair again, pushing it from your face, massaging with his fingertips. Dami was trying and failing to get your attention, discerning if he could find his own climax. Thinking of your pleasure only for so long had tested even Damiano’s excellent compartmentalization. Behind his wall of focus, Dami’s orgasam had been building and now waited to crest like a great wave, a tsunami. 

A knot wasn’t enough physical intimacy. Damiano flattened himself against you, face nuzzling your untouched scent gland, trying to cover himself in your smell.  On the instroke he was cumming, mouth on your scent gland, trying not to use his teeth this time. It was excruciating to resist the fantasy that any alpha who got close enough to touch you would also be close enough to see you covered in his bite marks. Releasing rope after rope of cum made it impossible to remember that these bites Damiano used to communicate his unspoken love had a physical toll on you. He shook and clung to you in the final moments of his orgasam. Damiano cried out, guttural and passionate, right next to the shell of your ear.

You reached out for Dami in the dark. Hand crawling across the bedspread, you got lucky and found his grasp. The reminder that you were right here with him had Damiano releasing a groan that turned into a growl of desperation, his hips jerking against yours once again. Dami’s second orgasam came quickly and he collapsed on top of you before it had even peaked. His legs were placed on the outside of your own, squeezing down like that could make the tensing of your walls a palatable sensation. Bearing down was the instinctual reaction to feeling Dami’s hot cum coat your walls, splashing on your cervix. You wanted to hold him infinitesimally close somehow.

His second release was more plentiful than the first. Damiano pulled out halfway, hoping that your reaction wouldn’t be so visceral in a shallower spot. However, each rush of jizz landed on your scent glands and that had you bordering on overstimulation. Dami was considering his third orgasam when he noticed you’d stopped purring and were strangling his hand instead.

“I know,” he huffed, out of breath. “Uh, fucking fuck,” Damiano groaned, aftershocks making his cock twitch. When you winced again, he knew integrating all this stimulation had gone from pleasurable to overwhelming. It brought some bodily awareness back and Dami realized he was squeezing you every place he possibly could, trying to pull you closer subconsciously as if this wasn’t intimate enough. He forced himself to begin letting you go. After having you so completely, it was fundamentally counter-intuitive. Dami wanted to wrap you in all four limbs, biting and knotting until he was too dehydrated to produce anymore semen and saliva. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your hair. He strokes it carefully, wanting to get you purring again. That'd been such a beautiful sound.

 “You’re mine. You’re mine. Your mine,” Dami chokes up. He relaxes his head against your shoulder and tries to collect himself. It's hard because he’s spent the last year worried about what might happen when you’re separate from him and right now you’re the same person. You’re safe, tucked against him, flooded with happy chemicals.

“Hey,” you rasp, moving beneath him. As Daminao lost his knot, you surfaced out of headspace. You detangle your hand from his, propping yourself up and taking some deep breaths. Awkwardly, he pulls out, resting beside you. As he shifts Dami realizes that he’d marked you on both sides, accidently. He carefully examines the bite mark on your right side, which thankfully didn’t break the skin. 

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, looking at you differently than he did earlier today. 

“Honestly, it's nice to only have my organs inside of me,” you joke.

Notes: Taglist to be added tomorrow <3 Tell me your favorite part this was a labor of love. Thanks for voting on the cover!

[joy-of-life88]

Inked Temptation [a Damian Priest story] 9 Mischief

Ellie POV

The unpleasant beeping of Damian's alarm rudely jolted me out of sleep. Immediately I felt the bed move before the loud noise died down. With a yawn, I snuggled closer to my boyfriend to prevent him from disappearing out of bed.

"Don't get up..." I murmured softly, burying my face against his chest.

"Morning, baby... I'm afraid I have to" Damian said in a raspy morning voice and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

"You don't have to. I'll write you a note." I replied while wrapping my arms and legs around him like a koala bear.

"It would be nice if that worked, but you have to get up too, sweetheart. Unless you want to be late for your appointment." he chuckled deeply.

I groaned. Unfortunately, he was right. I did have this week off. That's why I had packed everything I needed to get done into this one week. Appointments at the dentist and gynecologist. Then I had to go to the accountant. And then there were a lot of little things I had to do. Especially important was that I wanted to find a great birthday present for him. Because I had firmly intended to make this day something very special.

But one thing was already certain. I would miss Damian very much. In the two months that we were already together, we actually spent all our free time together. Either here at my place or at his place in Florida or even in New York.

"Spoilsport... But I guess you're right. I'll shower first." I said as I broke away from him to go to the bathroom. But not without stealing a long good morning kiss.

"As if... We'll go together." he replied and climbed out of bed.

With quick steps he came towards me and lifted me up. Damian threw me on his shoulder and walked us into the bathroom. I squealed joyfully as I wriggled a little. He gave me a playful pat on the butt before he set about getting the water up to the right temperature.

---------------------

"How was the flight, baby?" I asked when I talked to Damian on the phone a few hours later.

I had done most of my chores for the day and was headed out to the car to head home. I wanted to do a quick load of laundry there and grab some snacks before meeting up with some girlfriends at the mall. They wanted to help me pick out the best gift for the man by my side. Although, I wasn't at all sure if they would be helpful or not.

"Yeah, it was okay. I miss you already though. I don't even know how I'm going to sleep tonight without your cold feet under my covers." he said to tease me.

"Mister, my feet are not that cold. You are just a walking space heater. And it's your duty to keep your girl warm." I replied.

"Hmm... that's true... and I think I have the perfect way to warm you up, don't I?" said Damian then, and I could clearly hear the mischief in his voice.

"Indeed you do, D. Or did you ever hear me complain?" I wanted to know as I arrived at my car and got behind the wheel.

"Oh I certainly hope it stays that way." he laughed.

"Okay, baby... I've got to go now. We'll talk tonight. Oh and in case I forgot to mention it.... I already booked you a ticket to fly to me on Friday. Check your emails." he then added.

"I see someone has planned ahead. See you later, D. Take care of yourself." I replied.

"Always, Ellie-Bell." he said before we said goodbye.

With a big smile on my lips, I drove home. But when I saw what car was parked in the lot in front of my building, my good mood vanished into thin air. I had really not expected this today. Or rather, I had never expected it.

[ophelia-jones]

Daryl saw the Walkers before he saw Etta. They were just a peripheral impression, barely worth wasting brain energy on. Passing walkers while on the motorcycle was like what it had once been to see a deer in a field while driving past on the highway. You'd probably notice but there would be no interaction and no second thoughts about it once they were out of sight. But something in the back of his head told him to look closer - look again.

Etta was halfway up a maple tree, but there were three walkers at the base of the tree, clawing, grabbing at her. Before he could bring the motorcycle to a full stop, he saw her strike one in the temple with her foot and saw the creature's head explode like a ripe melon. But there were two more on her and who knew how many had been drawn by the sound of his engine.

He ditched the bike as he tried to take the turn too fast and it skidded across the pavement. He hit the ground running toward Etta, a knife in each hand by the time he got to her, making quick work of the walkers that still had her trapped. He saw there were two more she had dispatched before he had even noticed her there. She was just out of reach in the tree, clinging to it like a koala bear.

"Hi," Daryl said, waving once as he looked up at her. He'd rarely been so happy to see anyone. Etta laughed out loud at the sight of him; or maybe at his awkward greeting, remembering how It had been all she could think to say after they'd slept together the first time. He remembered, at least. That old awkwardness that always overcame him when it came to emotions was whispering in his ear, trying to make him shut up or shut down.

"Hi," she replied, laughing like a lunatic at the surreal absurdity of the moment.

"You gonna come down? Cause I don't know the words to Romeo and Juliet or whatever princess in the tower shit." Daryl squinted up at Etta and she had to close her eyes for a moment and catch her breath before clambering down the tree. As she did, Daryl could see that she had what he recognized to be arborist's spurs on her legs; a rig one would strap onto each shin and foot which could be used to help gain purchase when climbing a tree. They were used in conjunction with a rope and carabiner usually - or had been designed to.

"You coulda just bullshitted it, I wouldn't have known the difference," she told Daryl as she descended the tree. He could see she had modified the spurs for her purposes of climbing a tree by hand and foot with no time for rigging a rope. In each hand, she held a rock climber's hammer fitted with a leather strap to keep it attached to her wrist even if her fingers had lost their grip.

"I'll remember that," Daryl murmured as he looked her over to see if she was bitten. It looked like the only blood on her was from the walkers.

"You look good," he told her and Etta nearly doubled over with laughter at the supreme awkwardness of the moment.

"I haven't bathed in nearly three months, and yet I believe you meant that," she told him, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. She hadn't done that in three months, either.

"Me neither," Daryl quipped, starting Etta to giggle again. He blushed slightly and looked around for any signs of more danger.

"I noticed," she teased as her laughter subsided, but her joke held no cruelty, no hint of criticism. It was just something to say, something rude to deflect any disturbing emotions which might be trying to get out. She had never been good at showing emotion. Hell, she wasn't even good at feeling emotion. Being alone with her thoughts was the hardest thing she'd had to do these past months. Other than surviving, there hadn't been much to do except think.

"Come back to Alexandria with me," Daryl said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Daryl, I…"

"Naw, I ain't taking no, just come on. Get on the bike." Daryl started toward the motorcycle and picked it up, swinging one massive leg over it and starting the engine which had stalled out after being dropped. Etta smiled at him, following slowly.

"Well, I have been sad I never got to ride on her. Any chance I can drive?" she asked cheekily.

"Just get on back and hold on," Daryl told her as if tired of her, but it was delivered with such good humor she could not mistake it for anything other than friendly banter. So Etta did as he said, straddling the bike behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his back. She wanted to capture this moment and put it in a jar like a firefly. Something to look at when she couldn't find the light anywhere else.

The others were eating and sitting quietly, taking in the surprise of finding an entire village of people living together peacefully. Sharing work and supplies, reaching out to others rather than simply doing for themselves. It was like a dream, and those under 13 had no memory of living like this at all. They'd been too young when the outbreak happened and had been through too much at a young age.

"Etta! You came back!" Olivia declared happily, little Vida rushing to hug her as well.

"Yeah, I decided maybe a shower and a good night's sleep might be worth a few hours lost getting back," she told them, picking both girls up and swinging them back and forth as she hugged them. In most ways, these kids had it harder than she had at their age. But they knew only a gentle kind of love from the women who had raised them; something Etta had never known as a child. And she would do everything she could to keep it that way.

"Good idea," Shondra told her, coming to hug Etta and collect Vida who would not let her favorite auntie go. She'd been gone for weeks and weeks, then showed up to help take them on this adventure to a strange new place. Vida was afraid if she let go, Etta would go missing again.

"I'll see you again soon," Etta assured the kids as she started walking deeper into town, away from where the refugees were resting.

"You know why they're here," Etta commented as Daryl fell into step beside her. He nodded silently.

"You must have so many questions," she said softly. The empathy in her voice caught Daryl off guard, he had expected her to be either apologetic or defensive. Instead, she was concerned about him. This was not a common occurrence in his life.

"Yeah, I heard they - you - are trying to save him. I don't understand why, and I don't want to," he told her honestly.

"Yeah, I don't entirely," she informed him with a nod. "I won't try to explain if you don't want me to. But if there is anything I CAN say? Anything you DO want to know? I'll tell you the truth. I've already lost everything I tried to keep by not just owning up to what I knew once I heard your side. I can't make it any worse than I already did." she told Daryl gently, watching him from the corner of her eye. She was overwhelmed by his presence; she had honestly expected to never be this close to him again.

"Do you love him?" he asked after a moment of contemplation.

"No. No, it was never love. At least not beyond the bond of simply coexisting peacefully as human beings. If you mean did I have sex with him, then, yes. A few times over three months or so. It was not emotional, it was a diversion. It was years of not being touched tenderly. But it wasn't about love." She told him, and when she saw the emotions rage inside of him, she did grow defensive despite having promised herself she could simply state the facts.

"You may be a rock, Daryl, who can go years without needing to be touched - but I needed it and my opportunities were limited. It was a man twenty years older than myself whose past was suspicious or a teenage boy, eleven years younger than me whom I considered to be my brother," she told him with an edge of bitterness in her tone. Daryl hung his head slightly as he considered her words.

"I'm not a rock," he muttered. "I'm scared. I lost too many people, and it doesn't hurt less no matter how many times I have been through it. It's not that I don't feel anything - I feel too damned much."

Etta's heart ached at his words, his honesty. He had trusted her in a way he seldom trusted anyone, and she had violated that.

"I was selfish. I should have been thinking about you but all I could think about was holding on to you. I didn't want it to be over, I wasn't ready to lose you. I just kept thinking if we could make it a little bit longer. One more day, one more kiss! I should have been thinking about how that was making it worse for you. The longer I lied to you, the more it would hurt when you found out."

"It's hard to trust you, now," he told her. She nodded, looking away so he wouldn't see her blink away the tears she was fighting. They walked in silence for a while before Etta turned to him and said,

"I have no idea where I'm going, by the way. I'm just walking around aimlessly. But you're following me, so there's that."

Daryl looked down at her, his silver-blue eyes narrowed, a slight smile on his lips.

"There's something wrong with you," he replied, shaking his head with amusement.

"and yet YOU'RE the one following ME." she nudged his shoulder with her own. He smiled a little more broadly. He had missed this.

"You hungry?" he asked, turning the corner toward the little house he had taken as his own after Rick and Michonne had become a couple. Before that, they had all been staying in the big house which was now the Grimes family home.

"Well, I've been living on moss and squirrel turds for a couple of months so, yeah, I could eat," she replied and Daryl laughed.

"Something wrong with you," he muttered again, but as they fell into a step toward his house, he reached over and clasped her hand lightly with his own.

Having this time to think - and having so many people he respected insist on telling him they thought he had been wrong to assume Etta had been out to hurt him from the beginning - had been good for him. When his emotions were high, it was always anger that took control.

Now? All he wanted to do was hold her, tell her he had missed her - and that he loved her. He was sorry, too, for the way he had left her that day. But emotions like that just got caught in Daryl's throat. So all he could think to do was hold her hand.

When Verity heard the key turn in the door she assumed it was Dwight or one of the other Saviors, though it was at an unusual time. She was half asleep on the sofa, her mind miles away as she dozed in the late afternoon sun like a cat. There were so few luxuries left in life, but there were a few which had existed since time began and which could not be taken away. This was Verity's.

"Well shit, I wanted to see if you were holding up, but you look like you're doing pretty fucking good without me. Guess it shouldn't fucking surprise me," Negan said, standing at the end of the sofa and looking straight down at her.

Verity snapped out of her doze, sitting up in such a rush that it made her vision fade for a minute.

"Hey, you," she greeted him sleepily. She didn't want to be happy to see him. It wasn't healthy, she knew, to love someone so much. She had already ruined Haven and risked the well-being of other people who had counted on her. But she knew she wouldn't have the strength to change it if she went back, she wouldn't trade the time she'd had with him.

Those big brown eyes with the threads of gold and green running through them could be so cold - but once you had them aimed at you with warmth in them? Well, she certainly had never been the same. Negan snorted derisively and shook his head at her familiar greeting. He was still angry, but that wasn't a surprise.

"I don't know what I fucking expected. You might be the coldest bitch I've ever known, and that is saying a fucking lot!" he told her, catching his tongue between his teeth as if he had more he wanted to say but couldn't quite put into words.

"I was a cop, you forget that? Of course, I'm a cold bitch. You have to be if you want to get shit done," she replied, tossing his philosophy back at him.

"Cold to the fuckers trying to help you?" he asked harshly.

"Do you not see the irony of you standing there asking me that?" she replied quietly, unwilling to rise to his challenge for a fight. "I did what I did to try and save you. It is the only chance I had of keeping you alive. Those people need to hear from Stanley, Olivia, and the others about how you have looked after them. They need to see that you are a human being, too, and not just the monster that killed their friends without provocation, in a brutal display, while making them watch."

"Without… Without provocation? Verity they fucking massacred an entire outpost full of men who'd sworn to help fucking protect the people of Sanctuary. In their fucking SLEEP, most of them, and they kidnapped one of their god-damned babies!" Negan argued.

"After you killed how many others? I know about Hilltop. I know about the kingdom and oceanside. How many other people did you kill to get the attention you wanted? There will always be a price, Negan, and life will come to collect eventually." she shook her head sadly.

"What about you? You've told me about people you've killed that you didn't have to fucking kill, people you regret killing. Hell, you and Etta killing Clyde and Small Paul to sneak the others out - those fucking men were trying to fucking protect the very god-damned mother fuckers who murdered them!" Negan was pacing now, agitated. He knew, somewhere, that he was clutching at straws to justify his behavior.

"They were trying to keep your favor because they were afraid of being on their own again or failing you, either of which could mean death. And if they hadn't been willing to kill Etta, she wouldn't have shot them. She had told me to be prepared for the fact that she was only going to kill if it was in self-defense or defense of the other women. I would've probably done away with more of them than she did. Someone I love taught me that the ends justify the means."

"What ends? What could you possibly have intended to get out of this?"

"Your life! I was trying to keep you alive!" she finally snapped, standing and walking toward the kitchenette. She took a long drink of water to cool her dry throat. Negan stood, leaning back slightly and studying her from under heavily lidded eyes. Finally, he clicked his tongue at her, let out a low whistle of disbelief, and marched back out the door without another word.

Verity leaned down against the cupboard with her head in her hands.

His anger was bad, but his distrust was a smothering weight to bear. She hoped and prayed that in the long run, it was worth it.

Etta gratefully accepted the food Daryl offered her - she was almost gaunt from her time making do on her own. Not as much due to incompetence at surviving as to just not trying hard. She had other things on her mind and had simply forgotten to eat frequently. Now, sitting here in his kitchen with Daryl watching her eat, her appetite was raging.

He had a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched her eat fresh vegetables from the garden raw, biting into ripe tomatoes as you might an apple, taking no time for a fork or knife. Green beans eaten like French fries, and applesauce slurped from the jar.

"Better?" he asked when she paused finally, to breathe. Etta covered her mouth with the back of her hand and released an impressive belch from eating too much too quickly. Daryl shook his head slightly but laughed. She was the rawest, purest woman he had ever known. It made him wonder how he had convinced himself her motives had been to hurt him from the first.

He still hated the thought that she had the sort of history with Negan that she did; but if what she had told him was true, she might well have died before he met her if Negan had not been there to help when those fanatics had attacked. Or in the months afterward when there were only four able-bodied women to care for the children and the injured, needing to secure their home once again.

The bastard had taken the lives of good people, but despite Daryl's desire to believe Negan was pure evil - there was evidence sitting in front of him that the monster had done some good as well.

As much as he wanted to think there was such a thing as good and evil, a simple black-and-white version of it - he knew that was not the way the world worked, and at this moment - a moment he hadn't allowed himself to hope for - he found it difficult to maintain his hatred. He was sitting here with the rarest of people - someone he loved and whom he had been certain was lost to him.

He had a second chance.

"Any way I could stretch your hospitality a bit further?" Etta asked once she had finished every scrap of food he had set out for her. She stood and stretched languidly, "I do need a shower!"

Daryl nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, go ahead," he told her. He wanted to say she could have the shower itself, and the house it was in. He respected the fact that she could take care of herself - but he wanted to give her anything in his power. Fuck it, he finally admitted to himself; he was in love with her.

"You wanna wash my back for me?" she called out after disappearing down the hall, and the rush of excitement that flooded him was all-consuming. He'd never wanted anything more.

[sinner-as-saint]

Come Home.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you... 

Themes: fluff, soft smut

WARNING: FLUFF

a/n: just a quick dose of fluff because we all need some, ily! 

Bucky checked his phone the moment he slid into the backseat of his car. Without a word said, his driver knew that he would be going home. 

Bucky smiled at the text you just sent him, attached to which was a picture of you and your son cuddling on your bed with big smiles on both your faces. The text read: ‘Showered, PJs on and we’re ready for cuddles! Come home quick, we love you!’

Just the thought of returning home to his little family which he adored so much made all his fatigue fade away. He couldn’t imagine life without the two of you in it, he would die and kill for you without hesitation. 

Half an hour later he was home. He made sure to have a quick word with his guards outside - as always thanking them for ensuring the safety of his family when he’s not around during the day. He walked inside and locked the door and rushed upstairs, excited to see you and his son, already taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He walked into your bedroom and he immediately melted at the sight on your bed. 

Both you and your son, in matching PJs, fell asleep while waiting on him. You were sprawled carelessly on the soft mattress and your son fell asleep on top of you, holding on to your hip. Bucky let out a soft chuckle as he carefully stepped closer to you two, noticing the bedtime story books amidst the books you were currently reading, as well as the bar of chocolate on the bedside which you and your son probably shared - things your son inherited from you; the love for books and stories, and a sweet tooth. 

Bucky leaned over, kissing you both carefully on the forehead. He always found it adorable how both you and your son slept similarly; lips slightly parted, snoring softly. He decided not to disturb you two any further so he slipped into the bathroom as quietly as possible. 

Once he stepped out of the shower, he had to force himself to disturb your baby boy slightly because he needed to be put in his own bed so he could sleep more comfortably. But also, Bucky desperately needed some time alone with you. 

He placed one knee gently on the bed, bending a little and slipping his hands under the little sleeping frame of your son so as to pick him up as gently as possible. “Come on bud, we gotta put you in your own bed.” He whispered, mainly to himself as he detached the 3-year-old toddler from your hip. “Such a momma’s boy,” Bucky muttered under his breath when he realized that your son was putting up a gentle fight even in his sleep as his father tried to get him off of your leg. 

As soon as he felt the loss of contact from your body heat, your son whimpered quietly in his father’s arms, still asleep as he made an attempt to reach out for you again with his little arms. Bucky smiled. “I know, I know.” He shushed your son as best he could, rocking him gently and praying to God he doesn’t wake up. 

“I’m just as obsessed with your mom as you are. I hate being away from her too.” He whispered to your son as he slowly walked out of your bedroom and crossed the hallway to get to the little man’s room. “But hey, you hang out with her all day. Now it’s my turn.” He whispered, placing your son down on the smaller, equally as comfy bed. 

He positioned the pillows just how he liked it and tucked your baby in bed, kissing his forehead. “Good night little man, daddy loves you.” He turned the soft night light on before leaving the room, closing the door just halfway.  

Bucky was almost giddy as he slid into bed behind you. He pulled the covers over both of you before pulling you closer and spooning you from behind. You stirred gently, recognizing his touch instantly as his bare chest pressed against your back. He wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you into him even more and kissed along your exposed neck. 

You woke up giggling as he nibbled on your skin. You kept your eyes closed and just relished his touch. “Hi handsome.” You whispered. Bucky responded with a soft moan, kissing and licking along your throat. You immediately reached out to feel the spot beside you, where you remember your son had fallen asleep earlier. “Where’s-,”

Bucky replied before you even finished your sentence. “Already put him to bed. I found him holding on to your leg like a little koala bear when I came in.” 

You let out a chuckle. “God, I love him. I love him so much it hurts.” 

Bucky hummed, agreeing before he bit down on your shoulder. “Spare some love for me. I helped make him.” He spoke of his son fondly as always, yet you noticed the ever-present, playful jealousy in his tone. 

You giggled, “Oh of course. You’re part of the reason why he’s here. Thank you for that.” You turned in his arms to face your husband. You reached up and caressed his cheek softly. “Thank you.” You whispered again. 

Bucky smiled, which quickly morphed into a smirk. “I can think of so many ways in which you can thank me.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours before you could say anything. He felt you smile into the kiss as he deepened it, slipping his tongue into your mouth; licking and earning soft moans out of you. 

He wrapped his arms tighter around your warm body as he gently pushed you onto your back and climbed on top of you, not breaking the kiss yet. He hissed in pleasure when you playfully bit his lip, filling his mind with filth. He pulled away gently, looking down at you with his piercing blue eyes. “I’ve missed you all day.” 

You noticed the way he discreetly rolled his hips against you, rubbing his erection against your clothed core. Even through the layers of clothing you could feel his hunger; thick, large, hard. You were certain that by now your stare must be just as filled with lust and love as his was. 

“Show me how much.” You whispered, lips already parted as you awaited his kiss. 

Unable to resist, he leaned down for a brief, deep kiss before pulling away to stare at you again. “Where do you want me, baby?” His voice was deeper, words dripping with desire as his body heat wrapped around you. He was needy, rubbing his erection more and more in between your legs as if pleading you to let him pleasure you. 

You groaned, loving his gentle teasing. “I don’t mind, I just want you.” 

He chuckled, your words stroking his ego. “I love you.” He mumbled, lowering his mouth to yours again; kissing your lips before moving slowly down your body, his lips kissing down your body as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your top. He stopped and stared at your chest shamelessly once your top was off. He straddled you and reached up to cup both your breasts in his large hands and fondled with them before looking up at you. “Did they get bigger? I feel like they did.” 

That earned a loud chuckle out of you. “Perv.” You mumbled while sliding your fingers into his thick, soft hair which he had also passed on to your son. 

Bucky smirked before leaning in to kiss down the valley of your cleavage, still toying with your breasts while occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed. He pulled away after a while, and kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs. 

He gently lowered your shorts down your legs; getting rid of them and kissed your inner thighs once you were completely naked under him. No matter how many times he had seen you naked, your body, your warmth - it always excited him just the same as the first time.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, making you giggle and moan quietly under your breath. 

You opened your eyes to look down at him with nothing but love, and desire in your stare. There was a time in your life when you questioned whether or not one day someone would be capable of loving you with all their heart, despite your flaws and imperfections. You wondered if you’d ever be one of the lucky ones whose partners looked at them with pure love, devotion and affection. That question was answered now because Bucky always looked at you like you hung the moon itself. 

It didn’t have to be said, he knew what you were thinking. He always knew. He placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs, settling in between them like he belonged there and inched his face closer to your already dripping core. 

You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to your wet lips. He held your stare as he peppered kisses around your glistening core. You moaned quietly when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you. 

Your hand immediately flew to his slightly damp hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you. 

He didn’t hold back, he ate you out eagerly; satiating both your hunger. Bucky looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. And he saw the need in yours. So he gave you his all. He had you squirming, moaning - a complete mess under him in no time.

Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of you; your taste, your warmth, the way you moaned, the fact that he knew no one else would ever make you feel this way ever again. It drove him wild. 

With a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone; gushing out all over his tongue as he lapped up whatever you gave him; making you gasp and moan. The wet sounds erupting whenever his mouth sucked on your sensitive clit were downright filthy and it only made you want more of him. 

You felt him kissing his way up your body; leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his deep blue eyes. 

His stare was feral, he was hungry. “I need you.” He was in a bit of a daze as he thought of the last time he had you - yesterday morning - and that felt like ages ago. 

You reached up and touched his cheek gently. “I’m all yours, Buck.” You reminded him. 

That was enough. You were his, and he loved you more and more each day. And he showed you just that. He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin; from your mouth to your neck as he lowered his sweatpants and carefully slid into you. Your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that he was yours. He would always belong to you because no one else would ever make him feel this way. 

You whined in pleasure and your back arched off the bed just as you felt his thick cock filling you up; snug inside you. He felt familiar, yet just as intoxicating each time. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You frowned in pleasure and threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly.

The air around you got warmer again, his movements were gentle, and passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d mumble his name under your breath. 

“You’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath. 

You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were as important as the air he breathed. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him. 

He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, baby...” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly; which sent chills down your body. 

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs; making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. “Come with me…” You moaned, wantonly. 

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you; his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. 

With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone; gushing out all around him. You came around his cock with a loud moan; grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you.

You were both gasping for air; hearts racing and holding onto each other as you came down from your high together. Bucky was careful not to crush you under him and moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind like he had earlier. 

You pulled the covers back up on top of your warm bodies and you closed your eyes, basking in his warmth. 

He leaned over to kiss your cheek again and playfully nipped at your earlobe, you pulled away giggling again. 

“I love you, baby.” He murmured into your ear. He would never get tired of saying it because he meant it, with all his heart and he knew that you knew. 

“I love you more.” You sighed, thankful for him. “Now,” you spoke as you turned around in his arms, facing him yet again, “Tell me about your day…”

[hanmasghost]

Brother!!!!!!!!!!!

It's been so long since I last talked to you

Anyway, I have me officially adopted by Rome, which is amazing

And i want to request something

Small reader that uses his boyfriend status to climb on Ran, because this man is big. Just the reader climbing around this big scary man, like some kind of ape and also clings to him while walking.

Please and thank you <3

🥚

“Magic Koala Man”

Authors Note:

HEY BROTHA! How ya been dawg?! I missed ya! And does that mean I’m your uncle/brother now? Cool! Thanks for the request! I can now live my dreams of climbing/cuddling a tall man now<3

Pronouns: He/Him

Warning(s): none😁✨

“Babe… can you get off now? I’m hungry.” Ran asked softly as he looked down at his boyfriend.

{Reader} had dragged him into ‘their’ bedroom where {Reader} proceeded to push Ran’s taller figure onto his bed and cuddle Ran as if he was a pillow or a stuffed bear.

“No.” {Reader} grumbled as he only snuggled closer into Ran’s chest.

Ran huffed as he squeezed {Reader} a bit, only resulting in {Reader} snuggling even closer, if that was even possible.

As happy as Ran was that you were comfy and feeling loved, he definitely paid a price for you to feel that way. Ran’s left arm was asleep and his feet were numb, he was also pretty sure his back was stiff and would most likely require him to call Rindō to come pop it for him. But he couldn’t get mad at you too much seeing as you were his boyfriend.

Sitting up, still hugging {Reader} and him snuggled up in Ran’s chest, Ran decided he was gonna make a sandwich.

“What are you doinggg?” {Reader} squinted as he tried looking around the brightly lit apartment.

“Making a sandwich, and if you wanna stay on you may want to hold tight, I’m gonna need both hands.” Ran smirked as {Reader} practically clung to Ran’s torso. He wasn’t even doing anything anymore! It was all you.

As Ran made himself, and you, sandwiches, he thought to himself. Just how strong were you? You’re literally hanging off of him and not shaking or anything, and he’s not supporting you so we’re just really strong? Or were you actually magic? Cause he has asked you several times before, but you always replied with “magic~” and left it at that. And sometimes it really made him think you were part Koala or something.

Sure, he probably wasn’t ever gonna get an answer, or stop thinking about it and questioning how you do it, but it’s a fun thought to entertain every once in awhile.

Like he could just come up with theories upon theories, sure it was probably just cause your strong but-

“I sense you questioning me.” Ran’s thoughts of fun stopped as soon as he heard your voice.

“Whaaaaat… never baby. I would never q-“

{Reader} cuts Ran off with a loud slurp and a “liar.”

“Where and when did you get hot cocoa?” Ran questioned as his brain started to come up with fun theories as to where you got the beverage from.

“Magic.” Was the only reply Ran got followed by the sounds of soft sipping.

Grabbing your guys, now finished, sandwiches Ran walks to the living room and sets your guys lunch on the Kaffee table as he slips into the couch cushions.

Ran stared at his boyfriend for a few minutes before he decided to speak.

“So…. Mr. Magic Koala man, you gonna share that hot cocoa?” Ran points to his boyfriends hands that are wrapped around a blue cup that the shorter male is ever so slightly sipping from.

{Reader} pulls his lips away, giving Ran a full view of his chocolate mustache and nods…. Before proceeding to down the hot sugary beverage.

Ran gasped as he stared at his boyfriend in shock.

{Reader} looked down at his now empty cup.

“Oh… sorry babe, it looks like it’s all gone.” Ran continued to look at his boyfriend in shock and betrayal.

“Oh well! Cuddle time.” {Reader} said as he set the empty cup onto the arm of the sofa, wrapping his arms around Ran while cuddling into his neck.

“I- excuse me- you just- what about lunch?!”

“Cuddles.” Was the only reply Ran got before his boyfriend fell asleep on his chest.

[softxsuki]

Hello there! Hope you're having a splendid day! If you feel like it, could you do headcanons or scenario, which ever you feel like, on Bakugou and an clingy s/o. Clingy s/o in the way that they like to aggressively cuddle, back hug and bear hug only. They don't like it when they have an arm around them or have a hand on their thigh (which is what I usually see in bakugou headcanons) because they're a go big or go home type of person. So basically the reader is like "we gotta be this weird tangle of human limbs or we are not touching at all" . Bonus points if the reader likes doing it in public and will not let go until bakugou accepts

Bakugou with an Overly Clingy S/O

Pairing: Bakugou x Gn!Reader

Warnings: like one mild cuss word (?)

Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship AU

Post-Type: Headcanon

Word Count: 700

Summary: In which Bakugou struggles with his s/o who is overly clingy (low-key ain’t mad at it though because he loves you uwu.

[A/N: Hello <3. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to your request. Thank you so much for requesting it though, hopefully I did it justice lol. I chose headcanons because I’m just feeling lazy and horribly sleep deprived, but I hope this came out alright!]

Bakugou:

When I tell you he hates it at first--he absolutely hates it

It takes him a long time to get used to the fact that you’re a human sized koala and that’s just how it’s going to be

You’d show up at his place and instantly lunge at him, but he tries to dodge you, causing you to pout in disappointment

This makes him sigh heavily, he hates seeing you sad, it’s just that he enjoys his personal space sometimes, but he’ll hurriedly grab you into a bear hug

“Just for a few minutes alright?” he mumbles into your hair as his face turns a deep shade of crimson to match his eyes

Other times you’d be hanging out with him in the living room and he’d place his arm around you, trying to keep you in place as you practically try to crawl into his lap

“The movie would be way better if we watch it like this,” you say from his lap as you grab his hands and wrap them around your waist, leaning back into his chest

“Y/N, I can’t see a damn thing with you like this,” he’d grumbles, yet he finds his arms tightening around your waist, adjusting you a bit into a more comfortable position

“See, it’s not too bad right Suki,” you tease, rubbing your hands up and down his arms for comfort

“Shut up and watch the movie or I’ll throw you off my lap,” he grumbles, but you know he’s all talk and he’d never let go of you until you were ready to move away from him

Being out in public with you is probably Bakugou’s worst nightmare

He knows it’s coming--your pleading eyes as you stand behind him begging for a piggy-back ride

He tries to get away with just holding your hand, but you get upset and end up walking a-ways away in front of him with your arms crossed across your chest

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he’d say, trying to catch up to you as you’re now avoiding him like the plague

He grabs your arm to stop you in place and the crowd surrounding you both continues to move past you

“Am I embarrassing or something?” you ask him slowly, looking down at your feet

“You ain’t embarrassing, I’m just not used to being so touchy in public. I love you, and I love holding you, but mostly when it’s just you and me”

“I love you too,” you beam, jumping into his arms, now happy that he said he loves you without being encouraged to say it

He hugs you back briefly before once again trying to peel your arms from around his neck

“Alright, you can let go now”

“Nope, not until you give me that piggy-back ride,” you smile cheekily

This goes on for a while, until he finally gives in

You unwind your arms from around his neck and he turns around and bends slightly with his arms positioned to catch you, so you can climb onto his back.

“Get on already”

You don’t have to be told twice as you jump eagerly onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders

He jumps a bit to position you better and continues to walk in the direction you were both headed in

“Thank you honey,” you whisper into his ear, leaning in to leave a burning kiss onto his cheek

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re just lucky I’m in love with you. You won’t catch me doing this for anyone else,” he huffs, as his ears burn bright red

You smile in delight and cuddle your face into his neck for the rest of the walk

Truth be told, he really doesn’t mind the close contact, in fact he loves feeling the warmth of your skin against his own

He adores your bright smile as you practically weave your limbs through his own, content with your happiness in being as physically close to him as possible

But he has a reputation to uphold, so don’t expect him to ever give in to your touchiness so easily, especially in public

In private, though, he’d soon start initiating your long cuddles and extreme physical contact--he’s learning to love it too ;)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 9/22/2021

[thefanficmonster]

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does. 

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.” 

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid. 

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round. 

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night* 

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change. 

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios  @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

[en-engenes]

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — their love language

「 heeseung 」 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

heeseung finds comfort in having you around

there’s not a moment that goes by where he doesn’t think of you

always calls you on his way back to the dorm, after practice, to see if you’ll come over

“hee, i was literally there yesterday.”

“and this is today. i’ll see you in an hour.”

practically drags into the dorm before you can take your shoes off

has himself wrapped around you like a koala bear

you both sit in silence for a while, just soaking in each other’s company

eventually, he turns into one of those cheesy movies and puts on slow music

grabs your hands and suddenly you’re slow dancing in the middle of the living room

“isn’t this how the main character makes his love interest fall for him?”

little did he know you already were madly in love

「 jay 」 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

it’s known that jay liked to cook and was very good at it

so cooking meals for you when you come over was his favorite thing to do

you’d sit on the countertop and watch him

he’d look over occasionally, smiling when he noticed you were already admiring him

“like what you see?” he’d tease

you jokingly retaliate, “i’d like for you finish cooking because i’m starving.”

cooking wasn’t the only thing he did

when you’re out and about, and feel your feet starting to hurt, he won’t hesitate to give you a piggyback ride

will carry you for a thousand miles if he has to

picks out your outfits the night before so you don’t have to stress about it in the morning

helps with your skincare routine when you’re too exhausted to do it yourself

is wholeheartedly in love with you and willing to do anything you need

「 jake 」 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

jake loved having you around, more than he would admit

got shy very easy when you first became a couple

couldn’t look at you or else he’d get all giggly

but as time went on, he became much more comfortable

sometimes a little too comfortable..

“i just took the fattest number two, my insides are all cleared out now” as he plops down beside you on the couch

loves teasing you and doing silly things to make you laugh

the two of you will be dancing around the dorm with music blaring

when the members walk in, they ignore it completely like it’s a normal thing (because it is)

being with jake was like being with your best friend, x10

teaches you aussie/korean slang

never a dull moment

「 sunghoon」 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐

sunghoon has never been too good with words when it came to you

so it resulted in him buying gifts all the time

“i saw you looking at that ring when we went out last week, so.. here you go.”

as much as you told him that you didn’t like him spending money on you, you knew he wouldn’t listen

special days are even more extravagant

for your birthday, he had an entire surprise party set up at belift: cake, decorations, and even hired one of your favorite artists to come perform

on your one year anniversary, he bought an outfit for you to wear on your date

when you, sneakily, looked at the price tag he’d forgotten to take off, you couldn’t believe him

$4000 on an outfit?!

shook his head smugly when you demand he return it

“not a chance, love. it looks wonderful on you.”

「 sunoo 」 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

this boy would do absolutely anything for you

hungry? he can’t really cook but he’ll order takeout

cold? gives you his jacket and pulls out the blanket he carries for this very reason

there was a time you fell asleep on the couch and instead of waking you up to go to the bed, he just slept there with you

even when his arm fell asleep and became all tingly

or he’ll carry your bag for you so it doesn’t hurt your shoulder(s)

“i can carry my own-”

“-aht!” he’d interrupt. “let me do what i need to do.”

has a mandatory self-care night where he pampers you fully

basically treats you like royalty 24/7

「 jungwon 」 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

the king of making you feel worthy

even on your hardest days, jungwon is there to tell you how proud his is of you

let’s you lay in his bed while he goes to grab snacks at the convenience store

“they didn’t have those one things you like, but these look similar enough, right?”

you can’t help but smile

climbs under the covers beside you and ushers you to talk about what was going on

listens actively so he can give thorough advice

doesn’t miss a single word

“you wanna know what i think?”

you nod

“i think that you are the strongest person there is. i mean, look at you. all of this stuff you’re going through and still keeping that beautiful smile on your face. i’m so proud of you, whether you believe it or not.”

your number one supporter

「 niki 」 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑

he just loves giving you hugs

or leaning his head on your shoulder when sitting together

doesn’t like to be away from you for very long

especially if you’re already in the same room

isn’t typically a fan of pda, but will surely hold your hand if you get uncomfortable or overwhelmed

isn’t overprotective in a sense of the boys hugging or touching you

but if a stranger does, he’s ready to go to prison if he has to

“i don’t know who he thinks he is.” he’d mumble as you drug him away, hands intertwined

will spend the rest of the night clinging to your side

cuddling is a favorite of his as well

he’d have his leg slung over you and arm across your stomach

“niki, i can’t breathe.”

“shh, just embrace it.”

[xexpensivegirlx]

Trust Me ~ JJK

This content is NOT suited for readers under 18.

It’s late and he’s not home yet. He was supposed to come over to my place and spend the night. I know he’s working on his music. I know where he is. Still something in me says he might be lying. I’ve been hurt so many times in previous relationships that I have trust issues. It pains me to see him try his best to calm me down every time. Reassure me that he’s telling me the truth. My lack of trust in him has really taken a toll on our relationship. We have been dating for a while now, but we haven’t even gotten intimate yet.

I gave it up too early in my previous relationship and he ended up just breaking my heart. Jungkook isn't like that. At least he says he isn't. He says he loves me. That he wants to marry me one day. I still have doubts whether his feelings for me are real. Saying something doesn't cut it. I need to see it with my own eyes before I believe him. I need to know if he truly loves me.

*ding dong*

I ran over to the door and looked through the peephole. It's late at night, you never know. I opened the door while giving him a faint smile. I don't want to welcome him this way. I want to be able to run in his arms and kiss him. Yet, I'm here still playing scenarios in my head about the possible things he might have done behind my back.

"Hi, baby." He walked in and gave me a sweet hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. I want to be sure that all of Jeon Jungkook is mine and that nobody else can steal his heart from me before I can give him my heart completely. "I'm sorry that I'm late. We had to record some parts again." I nodded like an obedient puppy and followed him to the couch. He took his jacked off and sat down on the couch. "You look so beautiful."

His words always make me think twice. Does he actually think I'm beautiful or is he just saying it to keep me on his leash? "Thank you. Did you eat? Do you want me to make you something?" He shook his head and grabbed my hand to sit closer to him. He trapped me in his arms while resting his head on my shoulder. One of his hands was rubbing my bare thigh. Slowly inching its way under my short. His hand made a back and forth motion. He didn't go too far up. "I missed you" I slowly mutter under my breath.

A cute bunny smile appeared on his face. "I missed you more, my love." Those little pet names would make any girl feel as if they were in heaven. Especially, when they come from Jeon Jungkook. Whenever he calls me by a pet name, it makes me feel insecure. To how many girls has he said that. Maybe, he talks to other girls like this while he's dating me as well. "Is something wrong baby? It's as if you have seen a ghost."

I looked down at my fingers, not knowing how to bring up the questions that I have been pondering on. I gulped down and looked at him. He smiled sweetly at me. His smile is going to disappear the moment I tell him what's wrong. We've had many nights arguing about this. I've made him feel bad for things he never did. I accused him of things that he didn't do. All because of my trust issues. "Do you really have feelings for me? Are you not faking it?"

He threw his head back in annoyance. He's getting really upset. "Not this shit again. How many times do I have to tell you that I fucking love you? If I didn't, why would I come here? Intimacy was an issue in the beginning and I understood that. I'll wait till the end of time if I have to. But please trust me, I'm done talking about this every single time." He got up and walked towards the front door.

Panic took over my whole body. Tears streaming down my face. I'm the reason he's going to leave. I climbed off the couch and stood in front of him. Blocking his way. "You can't l-leave." I looked like a complete mess. "I'm sorry Kookie. Please, don't leave me." I broke down in front of the door. He slumped down to my level. "Please, I love you."

His big arms wrapped around my waist and picked me up. I hung on to him like a koala bear hugging his neck tightly. He walked like that into the bedroom. He laid on the bed with me on top of him. I cried my heart out on his chest. The fear of him walking out that door and never returning was too painful to take. "I l-love you so much Kookie." I whispered in between my cries.

The warmth of his body and his heartbeat slowly calmed me down as he laid there. Not even touching me with one finger. He must be still angry at me. I lifted my head up slowly. He had covered his face with his arm. Small sniffles could be heard from him. My heart broke. My trust issue caused a whole big mess. What could have been a nice evening is now ruined. "Why can't you trust me?"

I grabbed his arm and pulled it away from his face. I sat up straight and looked down on him. I scooted closer to him and used the hem of my shirt to wipe his tears away. His hands rested on my knees. I took a good look at his beauty.

He looks so handsome. I bet his face was sculpted by angels. Every single feature is mesmerizing from his beautiful deep brown eyes to his sweet pinkish red lips. He has the body of a god. He works out a lot. I have seen him shirtless before. That's something you can't easily forget. He stared up in my eyes, trying to figure out what was going on in my head. While I was enjoying the view of his beautiful form. My hands slipped unknowingly under his shirt to feel his abs.

As I felt around his abs, letting my fingers trace over the sharp lines of his muscles, his breath hitched. I retracted my hands and shimmied down a bit. I sat down on his thighs while staring straight at his crotch. I was feeling hot and needy for him. The whole making him wait was getting harder on me than I thought. Sleeping next to a man that looks as good as Jungkook and is as kind hearted as he is, is really difficult.

He didn't say anything nor did he move. I was in a zone where I only focused on him. I brushed my hand gently over his clothes manhood, making him let out a deep sigh. It felt good to have him underneath me and let me do my thing. He's a very dominant person at times. And he has told me that he gets very aggressive and hungry during sex. I'm just wondering how long it will take for that side to awaken. The anticipation of what might happen got the best of me. I palmed him over his sweats. I put enough pressure on it to make him moan. He was enjoying it a little too much for my liking.

I got up on my feet. He looked up at me as I was standing on the bed. "So, you're pretty dominant, right?" He gave me a confused look before nodding to answer my question. "Doesn't look like that to me. You're a sub." I let my foot massage his manhood. I went from crying about trust issues to calling him a sub. But I'm extremely horny right now and it's not because I have trust issues that I can't be freaky, right?

His eyes rolled back. I was completely feeling my role as the dominate one. He suddenly grabbed my ankle firmly. "You have no idea what you just did." He gritted through his teeth. Suddenly, I found myself laying underneath him. It went so fast that I couldn't follow. "You think that messing with my mind is fun? I've been nothing, but patient with you. I waited until you were ready to take the next step. And now you're out here calling me a sub?"

I was about to defend myself when he smashed his lips on mine. The aggressiveness added on top of my horniness. The thought of having Jungkook pound recklessly in me made me needier and wetter. He stopped the make out and looked me deep in the eyes. "Are you sure baby? I don't want you doing anything you don't want to."

I took my shirt off in response to his question. I pushed him down on the bed and sat on top of him again. His eyes were immediately focused on my pink lace bra. I pulled the cups down and the back up just to give him a little sneak peek. He sighed heavily in annoyance while I laughed my ass off.

Suddenly, his hand came up to my neck. He squeezed it tightly and ripped my bra off my body. Yeah, he's definitely dominant. He pulled me close to his body and whispered sternly in my ear. "You like playing games? I've been waiting almost for a whole year and this is what you do to me? What makes you think I'll have mercy on you?" His words were sending me into overdrive. The tingles were getting too much for me to bear.

The tingles that his finger left along my spine ended right above my ass. A hard smack made my body jolt upwards. His grip around my neck got tighter. Everything was going so fast for me to follow. When I heard him fondle with his sweatpants underneath my ass, excitement washed over me. "You think wearing those skimpy booty shorts every time I stay over don't do me anything?" Another smack landed on my ass, making me moan out loud. He chuckled evilly. "Ah, you like getting your skimpy ass spanked? You dirty slut." His words were overpowering me. I loved every single bit, they added to the sensation. I was dripping wet for him. His finger went in my shorts and found its way inside me.

I gasped for air and lifted my head up. He yanked me back down. "You're so wet for me." He made me sit up straight on top of him. His beautiful. dick was out, right in front of me. I wanted to touch it, but he grabbed my wrist. "Take those fucking skimpy shorts off." I did what I was told meanwhile he took his clothes off.

"What the fuck are you looking at? Those panties can go too." I obeyed and took my panties off. He grabbed my hand and made me get back in my previous position. I sat down on his dick and rubbed it against my clit. Small moans escaped both our mouths.

I forced my eyes to open so I could get a proper look at his body. Those tattoos have always been my biggest turn on. I hadn't noticed that I had stopped moving while admiring him. Luckily, Kookie was there to remind me in a very rough way. He gave me a painful yet arousing smack on my breast. Until I came back from the sudden shock, he had already wrapped his hand around my neck and brought me back to his chest. With one swift move his dick went inside me. "Kookie, that feels so good." I moaned loudly.

He chuckled and started ramming in me at a fast pace. My body got multiple tiny shock waves because of his force. My wetness was dripping down on his abdomen. My hands twisted in the bed sheets. It was going so fast and the pleasure became a little too much. "Kookie, s-slowwww dowwnn please."

His movements stopped completely. "You want slow? I'll give you slow baby." He sounded so cocky and sexy. That I was driven to the edge just by his words. He started thrusting in me again. They were slow, but deep. He hit my spot, making me scream. He continued hitting the same spot. I bit in his shoulder from the overwhelming pleasure. This wasn't what I expected when I asked him to slow down.

I was so close, but he made me feel so good that I had a hard time talking. I tried my best to warn him. "Kookieeee, I....am..."

"Are you close baby?" He grunted in my ear. He was also close as he started twitching inside me. After two more thrust I came all over his dick. He pulled out and flipped me over to his side. I grabbed his dick and pumped him a few times until his cum squirted all over my tummy. "Fuck, that felt good."

We both laid there completely exhausted from our session. We were panting and trying to catch our breaths. "Baby." I turned towards him. "Please, trust me. I love you more than anything in the world. I would never hurt you."

I snuggled into his embrace and whispered, "I love you too."

[namjoonfluff]

Homemade

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, you cook Jungkook his favourite meal and he fucks you to say thank you 

word count: 1,300

note: I’m not great at writing smut but I felt like this needed it aha 

masterlist linked here

Things have been pretty stressful lately! Jungkook was working at the studio more than normal - spending twelve hours most days or maybe even longer practising his performance. He wouldn’t get back to the apartment you shared until one in the morning most days, by which point you were tucked up in bed deep in sleep. Quietly, he would creep around the bedroom and shuffle under the blankets to cuddle you while he could. After all, it wasn’t all Jungkook’s fault. You were also working as a nurse in the local hospital. Maybe two hours after he settled into bed, you were up and out of bed to head off on your 4am shift. Both of your work schedules were horrendous but somehow, you made it work!

You just missed the nights you climbed into bed together; watching TV, eating food, having sex… God it had been a while! You couldn’t quite remember the last time Jungkook had fucked you properly. You know, the kind of sex that has you thinking about it for days and days afterwards. The type which had your body fluttering every time your mind flashed back to those intimate moments! Unfortunately, even when you both made it home in time, the last thing either of you wanted to do was strip off and fuck like you used to. Neither of you had the energy most days to even make dinner, let alone have sex. You instead resigned yourself to takeout food and quick snacks before crashing on the bed. The most you would get is a passionate kiss and potentially a fondle of your breasts before you both hit the hay. 

However, on the odd day off you had, you decided to do something special for Jungkook. He was so stressed out with tour preparations so you wanted to cheer him up. You knew the only way to Jungkook’s heart and that was, of course, food! Therefore, you decided to make him a special dish; one that he had confessed to loving at the beginning of your relationship - Kimchi Jjigae. As a non-native of South Korea, you were worried though. You really didn’t want to screw this up! Therefore, you had studied the recipe from a number of Korean recipe blogs and YouTubers. 

About an hour before Jungkook returned home from practise, you rushed out to the local grocery store to grab everything you needed. There wasn’t much to the simple stew but from what you had read, it was a comforting staple of Korean cuisine. That was exactly what he needed right now - as well as yourself. The two of you worked to the bone with little rest. It was one of the qualities that had brought you together. You loved his dedication to the band and he felt exactly the same way about you and your work. However, you recognised the balance between work and play, knowing how important it was to relax for your mental health. If only he did too! 

With everything in hand, you laid it out on the kitchen counter and grabbed the jar of Kimchi that Jungkook’s mother had prepared weeks ago. All of a sudden, you felt overwhelmed. The sudden self imposed pressure to create an authentic meal bubbled up inside of you. What if he hated it? Wouldn’t that just ruin his day? Despite your fears, you proceeded with a huff. It was going to be okay! Your hands moved quickly to follow the instructional video in front of you. You carefully marinated the pork while the Kimchi cooked in a pot on the stove. A little laugh left your lips when you noticed the pot still had a sticker on it from the store - clearly unused despite living together for a year now. 

It wasn’t long before the whole apartment was filled with the scent of spices. At the strong smell of garlic and chilli, you nodded in approval. A sense of pride filled you seeing the stew bubbling on the oven. It looked good to you, at least. In fact, it wasn’t that dissimilar to the pictures you had found online. You just hoped Jungkook liked it! 

“Baby!” You heard him call as he opened the front door. “Wow! What is that smell?”  Tempted by the smell coming from the kitchen, you heard Jungkook rush into the space - chucking off his shoes and throwing down his bag as he went. He wrapped his arms around your waist and peered over your shoulder. “Is that what I think it is?” He gasped. At the sight of his favourite dish, his eyes lit up. The often tired and almost dull-looking brown orbs now filled with a warm, gooeyness that could only be compared to melted chocolate. 

“Yup!” You said proudly, holding a stew-soaked wooden spoon to show your true chef abilities. “I made it!” In the moment, he had never looked more in love with you. His grip around your waist and the chin on your shoulder felt tighter - as if he never wanted to let you go! You almost felt embarrassed at the way he gazed at your face, beaming with a shared pride. It was like something as simple as cooking his favourite meal was the kindest thing he had ever experienced. And you were so pleased to be a part of that moment. With the sauce blended, you served up the stew into two different bowls. Jungkook still refused to let go of you so he remained a clingy shadow on your back. If this hadn’t been the first time you had felt his embrace properly in weeks, you would have shrugged him off. But it was so relaxing to feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. The scent of his cologne also lingering in the air - almost overtaking the smell of stew. 

“I don’t want to let go!” He giggled into your ear.

“But we need to eat,” You pouted, picking up the bowls of stew. With Jungkook refusing to let go like a koala bear, you ended up dragging him to the dining table. Not only had you put together the Kimchi Jjigae but there was a variety of side dishes available; it was truly a feast! 

After a few minutes of slurping and chewing, you asked: “So, how is it?”

“It could do with a little more seasoning,” He smirked, pointing at the bowl of stew with his chopsticks. 

Despite his joke, you felt a little downhearted by his words. After all, you had tried hard to get the dish as authentic as possible.  “I’m joking,” Jungkook smiled reassuringly. “It’s really good. Are you sure you aren’t Korean?” You let out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure!” “What did I do to deserve you?” He let out a gentle sigh. Shortly after finishing your meal, you both got up to wash the dishes. However, Jungkook had other things on his mind. While you’re running the bowls under water, he pressed his body against yours. A finger clasped onto the loose strand of hair falling onto your chest and moved it back, exposing the skin on the side of your neck. Without saying a word, Jungkook hovered his lips over your skin and began lightly kissing the area. 

“I think the dishes can wait until tomorrow,” You could feel his lips form a smirk as they were still pressed against your neck. “I have something else in mind.” “Oh, you do now,” You raised a brow, not that Jungkook could see it because he was too busy peppering your chest with kisses now. 

“You made me a lovely dinner,” He whispered against your collarbone. “Now, let me show you what I can do for you!” 

Not being able to resist his words, you dropped the bowl into the soapy water and flipped in Jungkook’s arms. He almost looked shocked when your hands wrapped around his neck and lips connected with his immediately. His lips were soft and welcoming like a bed you couldn’t wait to dive into. And in the same way, Jungkook used his large hands to remind himself of each body curve. The moment his fingers connected with your lower stomach a spark was ignited; there was no way to control it. It had been so long since you had experienced such passion that you were moaning against his mouth already. For the first time in a long time, you wanted him to fuck you right there on the kitchen counter. It just goes to show what a good meal can do!

It’s not long before Jungkook’s hands were all over you; tearing off your tank top and pulling at your bra to release it. There you sat atop the kitchen counter with your breasts exposed to your boyfriend who just licked his lips. However, with just your skin exposed, you felt left out. You wanted to see Jungkook - all of him. Quickly your hands plucked the buttons off his shirt and peeled it open to worship his muscular chest and complexion. 

“Fuck!” You moaned, seeing his chest heaving up and down. 

As he watched you eye-fuck him, it turned Jungkook on even more then he already was. That’s why his plump lips were quick to start teasing at your chest, touching and biting your skin while his hand reached the top of your jeans. His hand gently slipped down to start slowly massaging your throbbing vagina. Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing when he rubbed your sensitive clit with his thumb; going round and round in circles to get your breathing heavy. He made sure to take extra care around your clit because that was a sure fire way to make you cum quickly.

“You’re so wet,” Jungkook whispered. “So wet for me, baby!” 

It wasn’t long before the orgasm inside you was released. The legs wrapped around Jungkook’s waist were shaking and toes curled as you moaned through the pleasure. No one could make you cum better than he did. He always did everything just right!

“Fuck, Jungkook!” You breathed heavily. “I want you to fuck me!” 

Feeling the wetness soaking through your underwear, you waited with anticipation as Jungkook took off his pants and exposed his cock. It was glorious, glistening with pre-cum as it rested on his stomach. With one quick and fluid motion, he dragged you closer to him on the counter. Jungkook needed to line you up perfectly with his hard cock so he could fuck you in exactly the right place. He gently slid across your panties and pushed his thick cock into your wet pussy. You were so ready for him, your core immediately coating him with your cum. You moaned as he entered, feeling his length completely stretching you out - as if it was the first time all over again.

“Feels so good!” He moaned, pounding his member in and out of you. “Tell me how much you love it!”

“Love your cock,” You reciprocated a moan. “Love how it stretches my pussy!”

After a few more powerful thrusts, Jungkook released his load inside you. He looks completely exhausted as you both flop together and share a moment of complete and utter silence. All you could hear were the heavy breaths falling from your mouths as you recovered from the pleasure. You wanted to stay in that moment forever. It would be nice to forget about all the responsibilities you both had and just fuck all day. Once you leave the post-sex haze, you feel Jungkook poke the end of your noice and say: “I fucking love you, you know that?” You nodded with a smile. And you couldn’t help but think you needed to make Kimchi Jjigae more!

[quillsareswords]

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

[rebelwrites]

To Bail My Wife Out

Jax Teller x Reader

Lockdown at the club drove you crazy, everyone knew that. You had very little patience at the best of times and you may have busted Ima’s nose for chatting shit about your husband.

And to make things worse the guys were on a run and wouldn’t get back for another week.

“Baby go for a drive, clear your head before we have a body to hide” Gemma said kissing your head.

“But Jax is calling in like 20 and if I’m not here, well you know what he is like mom” you said rolling your eyes.

“You leave Jax to me baby” she smirked passing you your keys as you sparked your a smoke “go I don’t have the energy to dispose of a body today”

“Promise you will cover for me” You smirked inhaling the smoke.

“Yes now go you are starting to annoy me” she winked walking off blowing your a kiss.

“Don’t lie you love my crazy ass” you shouted.

“Just don’t get yourself killed” she said before closing the door behind you.

Strolling to your car unlocking it before tossing your smoke on the floor and climbing into your car. A smile formed on your face as you ran your hands over the steering wheel, disabling the immobiliser you started your beast hearing the engine erupted into life. Plugging your phone in you put your driving playlist on before backing out of your parking spot.

The prospect opened the gate and instantly putting your foot down speeding out of the lot.

The plan was just to drive until you didn’t want to kill Ima, the roads were clear so you sat in first gear until you red lined. That was your plan red line until the thrill of the speed drowned your thoughts out. And the whole time you had a grin on your face.

That was until you saw the flash of blue in your rear view mirror.

“Fuck” you mumbled glancing in the mirror again, it wasn’t Unser so you knew you were fucked. A smirk played on your face as you dropped a gear and left Hale for dust. You knew it was a bad idea but you didn’t care, this was a game to you.

After about 15 minutes you pulled up at the side of the road, turning your music off as Hale caught up with you, tapping on your window, one thing he didn’t look happy.

“Should have know it would be you Mrs Teller” he sighed.

Smirking as you revved the engine.

“Sorry can’t hear you over the exhaust” you shouted.

“Out of the car” he glared as you revved the engine again.

“I wasn’t doing anything” you said innocently as you undid your seatbelt.

“So that wasn’t you that when you saw I was on you, you sped up leaving me for dust” he said raising his eyebrow.

“Nope definitely not me officer” you shrugged killing the engine, grabbing your phone and smokes before climbing out the car. “How fast was I going anyway?”

“135” he sighed.

“Fuck no way” you smirked lighting a smoke “new personal best that”

“Fuck the formalities” Hale spat as he slapped the cuffs on “you are coming with me, and you are not getting out until your husband pays your bail”

That’s when you knew you had fucked up, there was no way you were telling Jax, not when he was out of town. Rolling your eyes at Hale as your smoke hung between your lips.

Resting your hands through the bars of the cell you watched the door.

“Come on lemme out you pricks” you shouted “Unser I know you are there so come on I did nothing wrong, I’m bored and hungry”

The doors opened and Unser walked over to you with Gemma behind him.

“I don’t call doing 135 nothing baby” Gemma laughed passing you a smoke.

“So am I being released or what?” You mumbled as you lit the smoke.

“Yeah about that” Gemma nodded “seems you pissed Hale off”

“And I always piss Hale off” you shrugged

“Which means he has set you bail at 3 and a half grand” Gemma said.

“And you are gonna pay it right?” You said leaning against the wall as she stayed quiet “you are paying it aren’t you mom?”

“Only if you tell Jax” she smirked knowing the answer.

“Nope Jax doesn’t find out about this” you said “you know as soon as he does bye bye car, speaking of my baby best be okay”

“You car is fine and is back at T M” Gemma nodded “but unless you tell Jax I’m not bailing you out, I told you to behave”

“No you told me not to get killed and I dunno I look pretty much alive to me” you huffed.

“Don’t start” she laughed sliding 3 packets of cigarettes through the bars with a lighter “see you in a week baby”

“Bitch” you shouted, rattling the bars making her laugh.

“Hey I just want peace and quiet” she winked, blowing you a kiss before disappearing.

“Well looks like you are stuck with me Wayne” you smirked, making him gulp.

“God help me” he said walking away from the cell “Gem you sure you aren’t bailing her out?”

And then it was all quiet. You knew what she was doing, and you knew you wouldn’t get out until Jax got home. Looking around the cell sighing, this was home for the next week.

Pulling his bike into his spot, a smile formed on his face as he saw your car parked in it’s usual manor. Abandoned and in the way.

He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and just sleep, he found it a bit odd that you weren’t out front like you normally was. Brushing it off, you probably wasn’t feeling too great still.

Walking into the clubhouse with his brother behind him Gemma pulled him into a hug.

“Mom where’s my wifey?” Jax asked as he sparked up.

“Urm she got held up” Gemma nodded trying to figure out how to tell her son that you were in a cell and she didn’t bail you out.

“The bitch is in cell where she belongs after breaking my nose” Ima shouted, making Jax raise his eyebrow at his mom.

“What she do this time?” Jax laughed as he knew you were a rebel.

“Urm speeding, like 135 and passed Hale off a week ago” Gemma said

“Wait she got arrested a week ago and you didn’t bail her out” Jax hissed “the fuck mom”

“I told her I’d pay the 3 and a half g bail if she told you she got arrested but she didn’t want to tell you so” Gemma shrugged.

Jax slammed his beer on the counter pushing his way through the crowd.

“Where you going brother?” Tig asked.

“To bail my rebel wife out” He said rolling his eyes climbing on his bike.

“I like your pants around your feet” you sung at the top of your voice whilst running you lighter along the metal bars “And I like the dirt that's on your knees”

“Please Teller you are giving me a headache” Unser moaned as he laid on the bed in the open cell.

“Let me out and I will” you smirked, sparking a smoke and carried on singing “And I like the way you say please. While you're looking up at me”

You were too preoccupied annoying Wayne to see that Jax had walked in behind a female officer.

“Darlin’ I keep telling you, that lead foot of yours and that mouth would get you in trouble” Jax chuckled as he saw just how relaxed you were in the cell “yet you don’t listen”

Instantly you stopped singing when you heard the gravel of his voice, swinging your legs around you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Hey my gorgeous husband” you said innocently.

“Yeah sweet talking isn’t gonna work this time darlin’” he laughed leaning his arms through the bars.

“Not even if I suck your dick?” You pouted, giving him the puppy dog eyes and fluttering your lashes.

“I can’t leave you for any amount of time before you cause trouble can I?” He smirked.

“Nope” you grinned popping the p “now you gonna bail your wifey out of here or am I gonna have to keep singing?”

Instantly Unser was on his feet.

“Jax please take her she’s killing me here every day it’s a different nickelback song” Unser sighed “she’s given me a constant headache”

“Try being married to her” Jax winked making you pout.

“That’s it not gonna suck your dick now” you huffed.

“Come on Princess we both know that’s a lie” Jax smirked as Unser unlocked the cell.

Jumping into Jax’s arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pointed at the door.

“TO FREEDOM” you shouted.

“Please remind me why I married you?” Jax smirked as he walked out of the cells with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

“Duh because you love me” you giggled.

You wouldn’t let him put you down as he paid your bail, making him smile at how clingy you were being.

“Can I get a print out of my mugshot?” You asked “it’s going on the wall right next to Jax’s”

Ten minutes had passed and the bail had been paid, and your mug shot was safely in Jax’s kutte and you were heading out to his bike still hanging on like a baby koala.

Gently he placed you down on his bike, his hand cupping the side of your face.

“I missed you” you whispered leaning your head into his hand.

“I missed you too baby” he whispered pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you parting until your lungs were burning.

“What’s this about you breaking Ima’s nose aye” he whispered resting his forehead against yours.

“That’s a story for another day” you giggled “right now I just want my husband to take me home, and join me in the shower because I kinda stink”

“Yeah you do stink” Jax laughed lowly.

“You aren’t meant to agree asshole” you huffed.

“Come on my stinky rebel let’s go home”