#safety pins ?? look no further

[saetoru]

one thing about me is that u could survive the apocalypse with my purse that shit got everything u need

[doppelnatur]

Hihi höhö tattoo!!!

[image description: two photos of a leg, wearing light pink pants with holes cut in it and safety pins keeping it together over the knee. Through the holes you can see a black and white tattoo on light skin. The biggest hole at the top shows an eye, hair, a horn and a snake body, while the smaller hole at the bottom shows a split tongue. The smallest hole is photographed separately and a little snake looks out. End]

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 35: Threads

Summary: Pack bonds are made up of delicate threads, small fibers webbing together the dynamics and relationships that make up each individual pack. The omega stands in the middle, holding the pieces together, keeping the pack from crumbling by clinging to those threads like a strongman holds pillars up with chains.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,740 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, descriptions of physical pain, brief description of drowning, medical stuff, panic, crying, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD, very heavy emotions, alcohol and brief mention of alcoholism, language, fighting (not physically), Kyle being the best boy, aftermath of trauma, brief mentions of the events of the previous chapter, guilt and shame, angst, and finally some comfort after the hurt (but not quite what you'd expect)

A/N: So I may have been slightly wrong, the angst isn't over, but it's not quite as intense as it has been. There are little tidbits of comfort in this one, though it's not like "okay it's over, let me wrap you in this blanket and everything is fine and happy now". It's...you'll see. If you're waiting for the fine and happy comfort then...you might want to wait a few chapters still. The comfort will come on slowly, but it has officially started.

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Screaming. 

Someone is screaming. 

It hurts your ears, high-pitched and ringing. Your hands cover them, but even that can’t block out the sound. 

It’s ringing in your own head. 

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle aching and throbbing. They’ve been locked in place too long, frozen in one position, a safe position. Safety. That’s what you’re seeking, that’s what you’re trying to find. That’s why you’re here. 

This isn’t a safe space anymore. 

The walls are crumbling, the darkness is fading. There’s light seeping in, threatening to pull you out, make you face whatever is waiting on the other side. It’s not a comforting light, it’s bright and piercing and threatening. You don’t want to leave the darkness. You don’t want to face the light. You want to stay there, stay frozen, stay safe. 

Your throat burns, raw and painful with every breath. 

It’s you. 

You’re screaming. 

Hands are flying, mouth open in a scream. It’s a horrible sound, grating and feral sounding. Your body twists and turns as they try to hold you down. No restraints. You’ll just hurt yourself more. 

Blood is flying, splattering on the gurney, the floor, the walls. Yours or someone else’s? It’s hard to tell. 

Simon. 

“Simon!” 

He snaps out of his daze, his eyes darting up to look at Dr. Keller across the gurney. Her hand is around his wrist, your elbow knocking against his forearm as you try to fight whatever it is you think you’re seeing. Maybe you’re seeing nothing at all. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft despite the chaos of the moment. Her gaze is firm but comforting. She knows. “I need you to hold her still. She’s going to hurt herself further if she can’t calm down.” 

She’s going to hurt someone else too. 

The monitors are beeping and screaming. They managed to get a blood pressure cuff around your arm before you snapped out of the daze he’d put you in and started fighting. You’re like a wild animal, cornered and fighting for your life again with a renewed vigor. Renewed for now. If you don’t calm down again, something will give out. 

There won’t be any coming back from that. 

“Don’t be afraid if you hurt her.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing his wrist. “Bones can be fixed.” 

He catches your wrists in his hand, pinning them down against your chest. He uses his weight to his advantage, pushing his arm into you as he leans down so you’re face to face. You let out another scream, fighting against him but he has you beat. He’s bigger, stronger, calmer. 

“Look at me.” He says, his alpha rumbling low in his chest. It has even the beta nurses stopping in their tracks to look at him. The only one unaffected is Dr. Keller as she uses this moment to her advantage. 

You stop fighting him, breathing in heavy gasps as you stare right up into his eyes. Wild and untamed, pupils dilated in your aggressive state. Dilated out of aggression or dilated out of fear? Perhaps both. Beads of sweat slide down your face, your body hot under his. It mixes with the blood on your skin, blood from your own injuries and from the Shadows you killed. Your cheek is bruised, discolored from broken blood vessels. Your left eye will swell shut soon. He needs to get you calm before then. 

It’s almost cute, the way you bare your teeth up at him. He might have thought it cute in a different setting, if your life wasn’t dangling over a ledge right now. A low growl rumbles in your chest, a warning that has his own hackles raising. He bares his teeth back, an answering growl, deeper and angrier, rumbles in his own chest. The nurses take a step back. Even Dr. Keller pauses at the sound. 

Yet, despite the threat in his growl, it doesn’t deter you one bit. Your knee drives into his side, making him grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t let up. You’re fighting him again, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. If he pushes any harder, he might break a rib. You’re going to break something if you don’t stop. 

You’re too far gone to recognize anything but fear and danger. You’re only going to fight, only going to attack anything you perceive as a threat. You won’t even recognise him. He has to get you to calm down before you have a heart attack. He considers getting one of the nurses to bring Johnny in, but there’s no guarantee that will work. You’ll just perceive him as another threat, another danger. More people in the room will only make you more aggressive...make your omega more aggressive. 

He’s not dealing with you. He’s dealing with your omega in her raw form, the animal deep underneath forced out of her hiding place. Whoever said omegas are weak never had to face one in this state. 

He stares down at you as you fight and scream, battering his side with your knees but he can hardly feel the pain. His arm is still throbbing where you bit him, but he can hardly see the blood streaked on his skin. 

He has to save you. 

He can’t let all of this go to waste. 

They’ll never recover if they lose you now. 

He moves almost seamlessly, time seeming to slow as he lets you go. He unclips his vest and rips it over his head in one movement, uncaring as it hits the floor with a heavy thud. You lunge up at him but he’s ready, catching you before your lower body can leave the gurney. It’s a risk. A huge risk, but it’s all he can think of doing. It’s hardly the worst place to be if things go wrong, if this fails. If he does fail, at least he’ll know he tried. 

He pushes his mask up to his chin, pressing your face right into his neck. 

Your nose pushes against his scent gland as he cups the back of your head, holding you there. He projects his scent as strong as he can, hoping it can reach some deep part of your mind, some glimmer of you that’s left in there. 

If this goes wrong, you’ll rip out skin and veins with your teeth. He’ll bleed out on the floor before they can even get him on a gurney. 

He wraps his other arm around you, holding you as still as he can. Tears prick his eyes as he holds you, shoving away the beeping machines, the panic still thrumming inside of him. Scruffing you was only round one of this fight. He should have held it longer, should have been brave enough to do it a second time. 

He can still feel it, your neck in his hand, the way you gave in so easily. You had no choice, he gave you none. It was necessary, it was vital that he did it. You wouldn’t have made it this far if he hadn’t. 

He should do it again. It would be easy, just slip his hand down and squeeze and you’ll be gone, lost in your head again and under his control. Maybe then he’d get you to calm down, get you out of this state and free from the danger looming closer and closer. 

Heart attack, stroke, organ failure. 

Why couldn’t Price be the one to go after you? Why couldn’t it be Price standing here making this decision. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers before slipping his hand down, wrapping it around the back of your neck again. 

Pain. 

You’re in pain. 

You try to fade away again, try to push yourself back into the darkness to avoid the pain, but you can’t. 

There’s no escaping it. 

Your body hurts, every joint and muscle throbbing. Fire licks at your very cells, burning hot through your veins, scorching your skin. Safety. You want safety again. You want to retreat back into yourself, back into the comfort only the darkness can offer you. 

Nowhere is safe anymore. 

Tears are rolling down your cheeks, the light pressing closer and closer. It’s somewhere above you, shining down in offending shades of white. You can see it behind your eyelids no matter how hard you try to squeeze them together. There’s no escaping this light. There’s no retreating back into safety. There’s no safety anymore. 

You’re underwater, slowly rising to the surface. There’s sounds around you, muffled and dampened by the water. You need to breathe, you need to inhale precious oxygen but you can’t get to the surface fast enough. Lungs burning, your fingers claw at the water but you can’t reach it, you can’t swim fast enough. 

Your hands curl into soft fabric as you cough, choking on imaginary water. There’s warmth surrounding you, pressed in on all sides. You’re leaning against something, something hard and solid and warm. The sounds are louder now, mixing into a convoluted cocktail of constant noise. You hate it. 

Pain ripples through your throat as you let out a groan, the sound catching and cracking on the rough edges of your vocal chords. Another choked sound leaves your lips, pain rippling through your very nerves. The skin on your face is burning, simmering ashes being fanned by every tear sliding down your cheeks. 

You’re crying. 

There’s a deep sound coming from under you. It’s vibrating against your body, your pulsing ears focusing on that sound. It’s familiar. You’ve heard it before, somewhere back in the recesses of your mind. 

Your mind. 

It’s there. You can feel it beginning to take shape, thoughts beginning to form out of the fractured darkness. You’re not in your mind anymore, your mind is in you. You’re a being inside of a body, a body wracked with pain. The urge to retreat back is strong, but you can’t. That part of you has been closed off, sealed away by the light. 

Fingers and toes twitch, tingling and throbbing with the cold despite the fire blazing its way through your veins. It is cold, your hand pulling at the softness you’re clinging to. The low vibration begins again, rumbling through you, igniting something in the back of your mind. 

You know it. It’s familiar. 

Something tingles in the back of your mind, starting to come to life. Despite the agony there’s something in there, something warm and comforting. There’s no name for it, no thought flashing through the swirling mass of neurons slowly taking shape. It’s soft and warm and whispering to you. 

Wake up. 

Wake up. 

Wake up! 

Your eyes open before you can stop them. You’re immediately blinded, eyes throbbing from the bright white light above you, a high pitched whine leaving your lips. It rattles through your throat, broken and squeaking through your shredded trachea. You clench your eyes shut again, wincing away from the intrusive light, the movement sending a bolt of pain through your body like an electric shock. You let out another garbled sound, your fist tugging on the fabric it’s clenching. 

“I know, I’m sorry sweetie.” A voice says, the light disappearing before another takes its place, softer and lighter and less painful. 

Your eyes crack open again, still throbbing despite the light being removed. Your entire body is throbbing, pulsing like an exposed nerve. You feel like an exposed nerve, weak and vulnerable. It triggers something deep in your brain, the light starting to dim. Something is rising, something is coming. You want to lay back, let it take over, let it take control. You want to sink into the darkness again. The darkness is safe, the darkness is secure. 

The beeping is getting louder. Beeping, that’s what that sound is. There’s something beeping. It’s getting faster and faster. You’re starting to go numb, the tingling in your fingers and toes fading away. It’s not so cold anymore, the ache in your limbs fading into oblivion. You’re fading into oblivion. 

“Oi! None of that.” 

You’re awake. You let out a disgruntled sound as the warmth and comfort leaves you, deserting you in favor of retreating into the recesses of your mind again. A shiver runs down your spine, your very skin tingling with pinpricks of pain as it goes. 

“Open your eyes again for me, love.” 

Your body moves before you can tell it not to, your eyes fluttering open again. You’re squinting despite the bright light being gone. Any light is too much, your mind seeking out the comforting darkness once more. 

Darkness makes you vulnerable. 

In the dark, you’re blind to things that may be hiding there. 

No. 

No more darkness. 

You want the light. 

Scents flood your brain as your eyes fully open, slamming into you like a wave. It’s too much, nearly choking you again as you try to register everything. The burning scent of sterilizer, the soft scent of clean linens, the harsh scent of chemicals. There’s a soft scent mixing in with the others, something easing the turmoil in your mind just slightly. Above all else, though, is the intense smell of leather and something soft and fresh. It overpowers almost all of them, standing out distinctly. It makes your nose throb, something tickling in the back of your mind. You’re afraid of the scent, yet...there’s something else. Something...familiar. 

“Back with us yet?” The sound rumbles under you again. 

“Nearly there.” Another voice says. “Heart rate is coming down again. Still feverish, though.” 

You’re suddenly aware of your body again, the pains, the aches, the burning, the cold. You’re trembling, your skin prickling from how cold it is. You try to press forward against the warmth in front of you, but the movement has pain slashing through your very cells. Another pathetic whine tears through your throat, every movement sending stabbing pain through your very being. 

“C...C-Cold.” You manage to croak out, the word forming clumsily on your tongue. It feels heavy, like you’re relearning how to speak. 

“I know.” The softer voice says, something dragging across your skin. “We’re trying our best.” 

Something moves against your back, dragging against your skin. Whatever it is, it’s warm, but it’s rough. You push into it, something telling you to get closer, to wrap yourself in it and let it suffocate you. Somehow it’s comforting to you, somehow it’s familiar. 

Slowly thoughts and sensations begin to return to you, your mind dragging itself from the depths it had sunk into. 

It was purposeful. 

You did it to save yourself. 

You’re shaking for a different reason now, suddenly aware of the parts of your body that ache the most. Your shoulder, your cheek, your throat, your wrists. There’s a deep chill that has settled in your bones, sinking past the fever and the pain, past the memories beginning to resurface, past the hopelessness and the anger and the fear. 

“Simon?” You croak out, the name burning its way through your dry throat. You desperately want something to drink, anything to ease the burning desert in your mouth. 

“It’s me, love.” The sound rumbles under you again. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Warmth. Alpha. 

You groan, trying to shift closer but the tensing of your muscles has pain screaming through your body. A shuddering breath leaves your lips, your body tensing until it passes. 

“Try not to move too much.” The other voice says, a hand coming to rest on your arm. You’re still clutching Simon’s sweatshirt in your hand like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this earthly plane. 

It might be. 

“Dr. Keller?” You croak out, recognizing that voice. 

“I’m here too sweetie.” She says somewhere behind you. “Take it easy, you’ve had a rough go of it.” 

She’s not wrong. 

The memories are coming back slowly, each one playing through your head like an episode of some fucked up television show. Except, it isn’t a television show. It’s your life. 

You hate it. 

“John?” You ask, trying to get your tongue to work, but you desperately need water. 

“Probably yelling at every person who crosses his path.” Simon says. “He was blazing a path to hell and back earlier trying to get ahold of anyone he could yell at involved in this.” He rubs your back. “He’ll be here as soon as he’s calmed down. Kyle and Johnny are working overtime trying to help restrain him.” 

You'll always be a second thought. 

“You?” You ask, unable to form the whole question you want to ask. Why are you here and not with your pack? 

He's quiet for a moment. “We got here before John and Kyle did.” His hand stills against your back, palm pressing below your shoulder blades. “You wouldn't let anyone close to you. The doc said it's normal, coming out of that state. I had to help keep you calm so you could get patched up. Then you wouldn't let me leave.” 

Your fingers ache from how hard they're gripping his sweatshirt. He stayed. He's the one here with you, not your alpha. 

You let out a groan, the pain starting to intensify. There’s a throbbing in your calf, and a deep ache starting to pulse in your joints. You’re almost glad for it, the turmoil in your mind starting to twist and fog your thoughts pushed aside in favor of the pain screaming at the forefront of your brain. 

“Time for more pain medicine.” Dr. Keller says somewhere behind you. “You’ll probably get sleepy, but rest is what you need right now.” 

You let out another groan, pressing your face back against Simon’s chest. Despite the pain in your body, there’s an even deeper ache in your chest. It’s not a physical one. Your alpha isn’t here. He’s left you again, abandoned you in favor of something else, something he deems more important. 

Tears are brimming in your eyes as they slip closed, the exhaustion and the drowsiness from the pain medicine taking over. 

It’s not quite so cold when you wake up next. It’s brighter in the room, the light not quite so artificial as it had been the first time. There’s no body against yours, no warmth seeping into your skin or scent in your nose. Your fingers twitch, almost like they want to seek it out again. 

You’re alone. 

You let out a quiet breath, your brows furrowing. Your shoulder aches, throbbing in time with the beep of the heart monitor. It hurts less to move as you shift your arm to itch the other. It’s horribly itchy, but your fingers meet gauze instead. 

Right. Phil had cut you there. Not very deep, but still deep enough to hurt. Just another injury to add to the list. 

You try to lift your arm but burning pain shoots through your shoulder. You wince, letting out a quiet moan of pain as you drop it back into the bed. You breathe as the pain shoots through you, swirling through your veins before it begins to settle. 

“You shouldn’t try to move too much.” A voice cuts through the silence. 

Your head whips to the side, your arm shooting out to grip the side rail as pain burns through your body like lava. It seeps slowly from your left shoulder down to your toes and into your very hair follicles. You let out another groan of pain, your eyes squeezing closed as you wait for it to pass. 

“Sorry.” The voice says softly. “I suppose that didn’t help any.” 

You open your eyes, still breathing heavily as the pain begins to fade. Your hand is still wrapped around the side rail as you stare at John. He’s seated next to the bed, his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. He looks tired, eyes puffy with dark circles around them. He’s in a simple green shirt and cargo pants, yet he’s not quite as put together as he normally is. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his beard scruffier than normal. There’s a faint pink line of what was probably once a cut on his cheek. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. 

You should be happy. 

You should be ecstatic. 

You should be relieved. 

Yet, all you can feel is pain and anger and betrayal. 

“There’s nothing I can say that will make this better.” He says, his voice rougher than usual, even after returning from a deployment. His eyes shine with emotion. You hate it. “There’s nothing I can say that will undo what happened.” He runs a hand over his mouth, letting out a breath through his nose. “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place. We should have known better, we should have questioned it.” He shakes his head. “We put too much trust in those above us, and we were all fooled.” 

Tears blur your eyes as you stare at him. He’s not just talking about Shepherd and the initiative. He’s talking about you too. 

“I regret it more than any decision I’ve ever made. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” He continues. “You put your trust in me, and I failed you. I let this happen to you because I got too caught up thinking about the greater good of the pack and I ignored what was right in front of me. You’re here because of me, because of the decisions I made. I had one job, and now you’re paying for my failure.” 

He pauses for a moment, tears shining in his own eyes. You should feel surprise, sympathy, something. All you can feel is hatred. He doesn’t deserve to cry over you. He doesn’t deserve this chance to try and explain himself to you, to try and give excuses for his actions. He made his choice. He made it very clear where his loyalties lie, where they’ve always been, where that line was laid before he even claimed you. It was never about you. Nothing was ever about you. It was always the initiative, and then when the initiative turned out to be false, it was about the ‘greater good’. You should have been the greater good. You should have been their focus. Instead they all betrayed you. 

They betrayed you in the end. 

“I made a bad call.” He continues on. “I shouldn’t have left you there. I shouldn’t have made that decision. It never would have played out how I thought it would in my head at that moment. Now you’re here, like this, because I made a stupid mistake.” 

He stares at you for a long moment, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if you  should have something to say in response. He’s waiting for an acceptance to his half-assed apology, as if his words can somehow undo the pain, the burning in your wrists, the throbbing in your shoulder, the agony every time you simply move a limb. As if his half-assed apology can somehow undo the weeks of depression and anguish and the worry and the fear. As if his half-assed apology can make up for the way they all cut you off, treating you like a traitor before abandoning you. As if his half-assed apology can undo the hours and hours of torment and pain the man you once thought of as a family friend unleashed on you all because of them. 

The hatred burns almost as hot as the lava in your veins, so hot you’re surprised the tear that slides down your cheek doesn’t start steaming. Your heart rate is picking up again, the monitor beeping with the sound of the anger simmering inside of you. The blood pressure cuff squeezes around your arm, a grunt of pain cracking in your throat. 

“Yeah,” You say, your voice hardly more than a whisper. You turn your head away from him, wincing as an electric shock of pain jolts through you from the motion. You drop your hand from the side rail before he can touch you, tucking your arm back under the rough blanket. “You did.” 

You have nothing more to say to him. 

John enters the room solemnly, the silence nearly palpable as they all wait in anticipation. They’re all looking at him, waiting patiently for their captain, their alpha, to speak. They always look to him, they always rely on him, they always trust him and now look where he’s led them. So rarely does he make the wrong decision, so rarely does he lead them astray. 

What happened this time? 

Why did he so easily turn them away from you? Why did he so easily turn his back on you? 

What words are there to say? He knew his words would do little to calm the raging storm inside of you, the hurt and the pain and the betrayal they put you through all because of him. 

The rejection still hurts, but it should. They all rejected you as soon as they left you behind. 

It’s only a fraction of the pain you must be feeling. 

“How is she?” Kyle asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“Upset.” He sighs, sinking down in a chair. 

“Fuckin’ sure she is.” Johnny snaps, anger radiating off of him in steaming waves. He’s been on edge, they all have, since the four of them were reunited. He had been there, stuck in the hall as you screamed and fought. He thought the worst when your screams cut off until he was finally updated by one of the nurses leaving the room. “Of course she doesnae want to see any of us! We just fucking left her, just like that, and it was your fuckin’ fault!” 

Simon grabs his beta before he can throw a fist at John, holding him back. Johnny lets out a string of curses none of them understand, fighting against his alpha. Simon holds him tightly, the image of your bloody form fighting against him still at the forefront of his mind. He grips Johnny tightly, muscles straining. Johnny is bigger. Johnny is stronger. 

He has half a mind to let him go. 

John doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch as Johnny yells and rages. He’d welcome a good beating right now. He could use some physical pain to distract from the ache in his chest. 

“Calm down,” Kyle says, getting in Johnny’s face. “I said calm down!” Kyle yells, Johnny stilling for a moment. It’s not often Kyle raises his voice at one of them. “We’re not doing any good being upset with each other. We all made mistakes over these last few weeks, especially these past few days. None of us are guilt free in this. We all have our omega’s blood on our hands. Fighting amongst ourselves will only fray the bonds more than they already have been.” 

Johnny deflates with a sigh, standing there in Simon’s arms for a moment. Kyle is right. They all can feel it, the way their bonds are fraying. Their pack is resting on a dangerous ledge, tipping back and forth with every strong emotion, every argument, every sour feeling. They’re all holding onto that bond, trying to pull it back to keep it from falling into the abyss. As angry as they are with each other, just one of them letting go will be the end of the pack. 

“There’s nothing we can do to change what happened.” John says, looking up at the other three. “Kyle’s right. I led us all in the wrong direction, but we can’t go back and change it. We can’t undo what happened to us, we can’t undo what we did, we can’t undo what we...” He lets out a breath. “What I let happen to our omega.” 

“She won’t trust us again.” Simon says, his hands still shaking as he releases Johnny. They haven’t stopped shaking since he scruffed you a second time. 

“She won’t.” John affirms, no matter how badly it hurts him. “She won’t forgive us either. The best we can do is to give her what she needs, what she wants. Right now that’s space. Dr. Keller will keep us updated as things develop.” He pushes himself up to stand, looking at each member of his team, of his pack. They all share the same guilty look on their faces, they all hold the same anger at themselves deep inside. “This may be the hardest mission we’ve ever had. No matter what we feel...none of that matters anymore. What matters is keeping our pack together. What matters is that we keep those bonds from fraying. We lose ourselves, we lose everything.” 

“Still sore?”

You nod, wincing as it sends a bolt of pain through your body. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says, adjusting the ice pack on your shoulder. “Hurts like a bitch, but luckily it won’t cause any lasting damage.” 

You blink at Dr. Keller, staring at her for a beat. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her curse before. You’re not sure she was ever capable of it. 

“What? I use swear words. Sometimes.” She says, almost like she can read your thoughts. “Sometimes expletives fit the moment better than any flouncy, sophisticated words do. This feels like the proper situation to use some.” She lets out a sigh. “Your shoulder will be the worst of the pain, at least physically. The mental pain...well, that’s not something I can treat with pain medicine. Shouldn’t, would be the proper wording there.” 

Some people do use it to numb the pain. 

“We all made a lot of bad decisions these last few days. Your support system, those you were supposed to be able to trust, failed you.” She stares down at you, emotion shining in her eyes. It’s a mirror of John’s own stare when he’d looked at you, but this time there’s no anger burning inside of you. Dr. Keller didn’t betray you. Dr. Keller will mean her apology, because you know that’s what’s coming. “I know you’ve probably heard this a lot over the last few hours, but I am sorry too. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I shouldn’t have fallen for that phone call...I should have been there.” 

You stare up at her, tears pooling in your eyes. If she had stayed, things would have been worse. It was almost better she left you. You can’t lose her. You need her now more than you ever did. 

Tears streak a flaming path down your face, a choked sob tearing its way through your trachea up through your lips. It burns your throat, no amount of water you’ve had in the last few hours has been able to ease the ache that’s taken up permanent residence there. 

Graves choked you. It’s the bruising from his hand squeezing your windpipe making you ache. Your voice may never recover, may never go back to normal. Crying hurts, hurts more than just your mind, your chest. It hurts your whole body, yet you can’t stop. 

“I know, I know.” She says, petting your hair as you sob. “I’m not going anywhere this time. We’ll get through this, okay? It’ll be a long road, but you won’t be walking it alone. You’ve got me, and you’ve got your pack.” 

Your gaze hardens at the mention of your pack, the sob in your throat coming out almost as an angry grunt. The thought of them makes your chest ache, the pain of their betrayal burning hot in you. “I don’t want them.” You whisper. 

“I don’t blame you.” Dr. Keller says, leaning against the side rail of your bed. “They let you down. The betrayed your trust in a lot of ways. They made you feel abandoned, and then abandoned you when you needed them most, even if they thought they were doing the right thing at the time. You have every right to be angry at them, upset with them. They hurt you in the worst way they could.” She pulls the blanket higher over you, tucking you in. “You’ve gone through a lot these last few days. Some very traumatic events, on top of being injured and your body going through extreme stress. You’re exhausted in every way you can be. Rest first. Worry about everything else later. Doctor’s orders.” 

“I did it to myself.” You say before she can walk away. 

She turns back to look at you. “What?” 

“I made myself distress.” You say. “I made my omega come out.” 

“That was very brave of you.” She says, giving you a soft smile. “Sometimes we have to take drastic measures even knowing the risks. You did what you had to in the moment and I think it was the right choice. You didn’t know what was going to happen, what was happening. Things worked out and you’re still here. That’s all that matters.” 

You think about her words for a moment. You did make it out. The fact you’re here means someone found you, someone saved you. Someone scruffed you. 

“It was Simon, wasn’t it?” You ask, even though you already know the answer to that. 

You wouldn’t let him leave. 

“You’ll have to ask him for the whole story, but yes. He’s the one that rescued you.” She adjusts the blanket around you again. “Get some rest.” She moves the call button closer. “I’m on the other end of that button if you need me.” 

You stare up at the ceiling after she leaves, counting the tiles above you. It looks like every other ceiling you’ve ever seen in a doctor's office or clinic or hospital. It’s not all that different from the ceiling in the med center on base. 

Base. 

You don’t ever want to see that place again. You don’t want to step foot in the barracks, you don’t even want to think about the clinical sterility of the buildings and the cold comfortless spaces meant for nothing more than to serve their purpose. Just like you. You served your purpose. You proved their point, even if it was never the true point of the initiative. Packs will get stronger with an omega, but it will come at the detriment of that omega. 

The job always comes first. 

There was a time you thought perhaps it wouldn’t. Maybe they could put it all behind them  and put themselves first, put you first. Then they proved they can’t. They won’t even put you first when you’re at the threat of being tortured. You were hurt because they wouldn’t put you first. You are hurt because they wouldn’t put you first. 

You don’t care about them. You don’t care about their excuses. You don’t care about the bonds or the claims or the emotions. 

You’d be happy if they left you here. Just a few days ago you were panicking about them leaving you, about them deciding you weren’t enough and abandoning you. 

Now you wish they would. 

“Has she said anything?” 

“Not much.” He sighs. “She won’t see any of us. I can hardly blame her.” 

“You made a choice, John.” Kate says, hands wrapped around her cup of coffee. “Choices have consequences.” 

“You were right. Then again, you usually are.” He sips at his tea. Bitter without milk, but then again, he’d prefer a glass of whiskey right now over tea. “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

“I don’t think you can.” Kate takes a sip of her coffee. “She’s going to decide when she wants you to fix this, if she wants you to fix it.” 

John lets out a sigh. “We’re her pack, it’s our job-” 

“You’ve failed at your job.” Kate says, her gaze hardening as she stares at him. “You’re good at being a soldier, you’re good at being a leader, you’re good at saving the world, but that’s not your only job. You have a responsibility to take care of your omega, and you failed. You made your choice, and you turned your back on her. She’s not a soldier, John. She’s never been tortured, she’s never been left for dead, she’s never taken a life before and here she’s been through all of that in the span of two days. You made a choice, John. You made a choice knowing damn well what the consequences would be.” 

He sits in silence, staring at Kate. It’s not often she gets mad at him, the frustration evident on her face. It’s a mirror of the anger and disappointment on the faces of his packmates. They’re all feeling the weight of his decision, of his mistakes. They’re all feeling the weight of their rapidly fraying bonds. 

“You have a choice to make now, John.” She stares at him pointedly. “You pick up the pieces from this, you all take the time to recover and heal. Then what? Things aren’t as simple as we thought they were, John. None of us knew what was going to happen. We were all so focused on the potential benefits that we all overlooked just how much of a detriment this would be. Your omega hasn’t had a choice in anything in her entire life. Every decision has been made for her, whether or not she wanted it. She has had no say in any of this. She’s been nothing more than a variable in an experiment, a statistic, a number, a list of pros and cons. She’s been reduced down to nothing more than an object.” 

John winces at her words, the weight on his shoulders growing heavier and heavier. He’s treated you as nothing more than an object, even if not directly. Leaving you so easily, yelling at you when you made an innocent mistake, letting you be tortured because he couldn’t get his head out of his own arse. 

“We all know she’s more than that. Far more than that. But she will never have any say in anything, unless you let her. Outside of your pack, she has nothing. In your pack? She should have the loudest voice.” Kate leans her arms on the table, shifting closer to him. “Right now she has no voice because you’ve proven where your loyalties lie, and they’re not with her. You have one more decision to make, John. Do you keep standing where you are, put the job first and wear your omega down until she’s nothing but an empty shell? Or, do you take this chance while you have it and finally put her first?” 

Kate pushes herself up to stand, grabbing her cup of coffee. John’s not used to feeling small. He’s used to being in charge, being the captain, being in control. People look to him, they listen to him, he’s the one everyone turns to when things go to shit to lead them out. 

He’s not even capable of doing that anymore. 

“Your life as you knew it ended as soon as she was placed in your pack. It’s up to you to decide how it continues.” Kate leaves with those heavy parting words, the door clicking shut behind her. 

John stares down at his cup of tea, the cup half full, or perhaps half empty depending on how one looks at it. It feels more than half empty now, spilling slowly through some microscopic hole in the side. It’ll only be so long before that hole will widen, worn down by the weak paper the cup is made of, the liquid eating away at the cup until there’s nothing but a puddle of tea on the table, slowly rolling towards the edge to dip onto the floor. 

That microscopic hole started as soon as they left you alone for the first time, and none of them were aware enough to even notice it. 

That hole is a gaping wound now. The contents inside turned acidic as soon as he cut you off in his disappointment, as soon as he started digging into the belly of the initiative. That acid has been eating away slowly at the fragile bonds that were in place. Fragile. They really were. No matter how strong they all thought those bonds were growing to be, they were built with fear and anxiety and uncertainty. Uncertainty of the future and what it may hold, anxiety towards a new pack and an entirely new shift in lifestyle, and fear of one day losing a pack member. 

Bonds built upon such frailty can hold no weight should one piece fall. 

How strong can bonds really be when you live with that knowledge, that constant fear that someone could die at any time? Someone in the pack, someone you’ve bonded with, someone you’ve grown a relationship with, might leave and never return because of the risks of their job. How strong can those bonds be? Was that the point of the experiments all along, the 141 and the initiative? Testing the limits a pack could be pushed to, testing if bonds could be formed in such a high stress environment and if so, how strong they’d be? What limits would they have gone to, to test that theory? Would they have gone to the point of sacrificing one of them to test those theories, had the truth not come out when it did? One wrong decision, one wrong step in the field and everything can crumble. Would they have gone to that length to test just how a bonded pack would react, if they could still function after everything? 

The sacrifice was you. 

Kate is right. You’re not part of their world. You’re not a soldier, you haven’t been conditioned to live with that fear, you can’t be conditioned to live with that fear. You shouldn’t have to be conditioned to live with that fear. You had no choice in this. None of it. From the moment you presented, nothing in your life would be yours. From the moment you presented, you would never make a choice for yourself again. 

The sacrifice was you. 

And he played right into their hands. 

The cup is blurring as he stares at it, his eyes blinking rapidly. 

They say an omega is the balance that holds a pack together. It’s a delicate bond, a single thread coiled around the structure of the pack. Wear that thread down until it snaps and everything crumbles. How long have you been fraying? How long have you been silently screaming for help, desperately trying to hold the pieces of the pack together like a strongman holds two pillars up by chains? You never had chains, you’ve been holding everything together with sewing thread, fighting desperately to keep the pieces from crumbling at the risk of being torn in half. 

How long have you been silently screaming? 

It’s all his fault. He’s been wearing you down, he’s been fraying that bond fiber by fiber. He’s been standing there watching you fight to hold the pack together while screaming at him to help, screaming at him to take one of those threads and hold at least half of the weight for you. 

That’s what he’s supposed to do. 

The threads have snapped. You were torn in half by the weight and those threads are gone. They’re crumbling, the bonds coming undone, unraveling minute by minute, second by second. They’re losing each other because they lost you. 

He covers his face with his hands, not even bothering to try and silence his sobs. 

Something has pulled you from the sweet arms of sleep. 

It’s dark in the room, the only light coming from the one behind the bed. The curtains are drawn over the window, keeping you hidden from the darkness outside the window. It’s late, or at least you think it is. You can’t quite see the clock in the darkness with your one good eye. It’s fuzzy in the darkness, too far away for you to truly find where the hands lie. 

Shadows fill the corners of the room, oppressive and claustrophobic. The longer you stare, the bigger they seem to grow as if they might suck the light right out of the room and swallow you in darkness. The longer you stare, the more it seems like there’s something there, something hidden in the darkness. 

Something is staring at you from the shadows. There’s eyes on you, your skin prickling from the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. The more you stare into the darkness, the more the shadows begin to take shape, forming monstrous beasts just being held at bay by the light. 

“Hi, darlin’.” 

No. No, no, no, no. 

“Miss me? It’s been a long time.” 

You shake your head, your heart monitor starting to beep rapidly as your heart pounds in your chest. “N-No.” 

Phil sits forward in the chair in the corner, his face coming into the light. It is him, blonde hair, blue eyes, that disarming grin on his face. He can’t be here...unless he escaped before your pack could catch him. Did they manage to catch him? You don’t know. You hadn’t even thought to ask about Phil or his whereabouts. No one informed you either. 

“No? You didn’t miss me?” He tilts his head, his eyes shining with faux hurt and disappointment. “That’s not very nice of you to say. I thought your father taught you your manners. Have you forgotten them in the time you’ve been away.” He tsks, shaking his head. “Those boys have been letting you get lazy.” 

Your breathing is picking up, panic starting to fill you as you stare at him. It’s impossible. He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here. He couldn’t have just walked onto base and walked into the medical center, could he? Corporal McKinney fooled everyone for months and drove right off base with you in his car and no one said anything. How much would the guards at the front entrance of the base take as a bribe to let him in? 

Why isn’t your pack outside your door? Why would they let him in? 

They had to have put out a warning. Someone should have put Phil’s face everywhere, sent out a message, something. 

He lets out a sigh, pushing himself to stand. “I guess I’ll have to teach you some manners myself.” 

The glint of metal catches your eye, the icepick catching the light as he steps closer. 

“No, no,” You shake your head, your fingers scrambling for the call button.

Not again. Please, not again. 

Your fingers close around the call button, your thumb pushing it over and over and over again. Someone has to hear it. 

He lifts the ice pick, reaching out for you...

You’re being shaken. A scream tears from your lips as you struggle, trying to get away from whoever is holding you. Your body is alight with pain but you wait for more, for the ice pick to drive into your scent gland again, open the wound and light your body on fire once more. You expect it to come down again and again, filling your body with holes so you bleed out on the floor. 

Where is your pack?

“Easy, easy. You’re alright.” 

You know that voice. 

You’re sobbing, your brain slowly beginning to come back into consciousness. You had been asleep. You were dreaming. The light is on in the room, the harsh fluorescent a welcome presence for once. The shadows are gone, dissipated by the bright light overhead. Phil is gone, wiped away with the rest of the shadows. 

He’s nowhere to be seen because he wasn’t there in the first place. 

It was just a dream. It was just a nightmare. 

There’s a hand on yours, gently easing your fingers from the call button. You’re still trying to press it, your thumb moving almost automatically. You started pressing it in your sleep. 

“You’re okay. Breathe for me.” 

It’s Dr. Keller’s voice. It’s her arms wrapped around you, trying to stop you from moving as much. Your body is screaming in pain, but the panic flooding your body makes you almost numb to it. The pain in your chest is screaming with every rapid inhale, tightening and tightening the more until your fingers and toes start to go numb. 

“Deep breaths.” Dr. Keller says, her own breaths slow as she holds you. “In and out.” 

The inhale catches, the air shuddering into your lungs before you hold it, trying to force your body to calm down, just like the two of you practiced so many times. The heart monitor is beeping rapidly, another thing that must have translated in your state between wakefulness and sleep when Phil had shown up. Your heart is beating rapidly, thudding in your chest almost violently. It’s been through a lot these last few days. You wouldn’t be surprised if it just gave out suddenly. 

“Phil.” You gasp out, still trying to slow your breathing. “Phil was here.” 

“It was just a nightmare.” Dr. Keller says calmly, keeping her arms wrapped around you. “No one has come in or out of this room besides me. The guard outside won’t let anyone else in.” 

Guard. There’s someone outside the door. Your pack? No. She would have said so.

Where is your pack?

Phil was never here. It was just a nightmare. 

The last two thoughts repeat over and over in your head like a mantra as you start to cry, sobs wracking your body. You hate it, the fear, the terror, the anguish you felt as he lifted that ice pick, ready to stab you with it. 

“I hate it.” You croak out, voicing your thoughts for the first time in a few hours. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s normal to have nightmares after a traumatic event.” She adjusts her hold on you, tucking you against her chest. “It’s your brain trying to process what happened, trying to work its way through the trauma of the last few days. It’s cruel, but it’s a necessary part of healing.” 

Healing. 

Are you healing? Can you heal after everything? The pain is intense, not just outside but inside as well. The hurt, the anger, the fear, the anxiety, the panic, the depression, the rage, the betrayal. It’s too much. It’s so much all at once. You hate it. You hate that this happened in the first place. You hate that you have to go through this, have to heal, have to live through more nightmares. 

You hate your pack. That’s why they’re not here. 

For all you know they’ve left you. For all you know they’re on a plane back to the UK. 

Why would they want a broken, angry omega?

“I just want to be okay.” You sob, face pressed against her shoulder. 

“I know.” She says, cradling the back of your head, keeping you tight in her arms. “I'm so sorry this happened to you. I know words can't change that it happened, words can't make it all better, but we'll get you to where you're as okay as you can be again. I promise you I’ll do everything I can to get you there.” She leans her chin on the top of your head, squeezing you against her chest. “We'll get there, no matter how long it takes.” 

How long will it take? How long will your pain and suffering drag on for? Your body will heal eventually, but will your mind? Are you going to be this way for the rest of your life? Will you ever know peace again? But...have you ever really known peace? Your home growing up certainly wasn’t peaceful. Your presentation wasn’t peaceful, and neither was life at the institute. Being chosen by the FBI for this initiative that never existed in the first place certainly wasn’t peaceful. Despite how happy you became with your pack, even that life wasn’t peaceful. What little peace you thought you had was upended in the blink of an eye. 

How easily everything crumbled. 

Will it be possible to put it all back together again? 

Do you want to put it back together again? 

Alcohol is easy to find in a place like this. Soldiers gravitate towards whatever crutch they can find to erase the nightmares they live in. It numbs the pain and the brain and keeps one sane, or at least that’s what his father used to say. 

Of course his father would drink himself into a stupor every Friday night, and he’d wake Saturday morning still in his chair with a full breakfast waiting for him. 

Much like his father, John has lost track of how many times he’s filled his glass. 

It’s been a long time since he’s gotten this drunk. He shook that habit after a shameful morning over ten years ago. He’d just gotten back from a bad deployment, one that gets labeled as a “mission gone wrong.” It failed under his command. He lost a lot of lives, not just his fellow soldiers. He’d drunk himself past a stupor and woke up passed out in a bush covered in vomit outside the gate with a rather angry CO over him. 

He shook the habit after that, easing himself to just a glass every so often on those days he needs to take the edge off, on those days he needs to numb the aches. 

Then Kyle came along. Kyle, his sweet beta with his ethical moral compass. His sweet beta who deserved a better life than what he was pulled into. Dutiful, loyal, principled. A good soldier, but a better man than John could ever be. He could fall into Kyle, bury himself under those soft touches, the soothing whispers, the comfort Kyle could offer him. The screaming in his head became less and less as he allowed Kyle to do what he was meant to do at his core. 

Comfort. 

Then you came along. 

He found himself turning to the liquid medicine less and less because he could bury himself in you. He had an omega, he had someone he could lean on, someone who understood without having to be told. The bond between alpha and omega is something so sacred and special, something to be cherished. 

And he threw it all away. 

He downs another glass, staring at the almost empty bottle. It had been sealed when he got it, brand new and fresh. He can feel it, the fogginess of alcohol clouding his brain. The world is swirling, melting together. He can’t feel much of anything anymore, yet that pain lingers deep in his chest. 

The bond. 

It’s like an open wound, gaping and pulsing. Eventually it’ll slow, eventually it’ll give out. That bond will be cut and everything will crumble. 

It’s all his fault. 

He ended things, he ended the pack, he ended the bond, he ended you. 

Would Graves have killed you? Would Shepherd have given those orders if they pushed onward, if they caught up to him? Graves would have done it slowly, taken his time, reveled in it. They would have gotten a video of it, hours long as you were tortured to death, zoomed in on your face as the life left your eyes. 

The thought makes his stomach churn. He wants to vomit at the mental picture of you laying there, covered in blood, those lifeless eyes staring at him. Eyes that once shone with life and happiness. Despite everything you had been happy. Despite everything that spark inside you was never extinguished. A fiery little thing that would give what they gave right back to them. 

Now you’re not even smoldering. 

You’ve been reduced to ashes, and it’s all his fault. It’s all his doing. 

He skips the glass this time, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Have you seen John recently?” Kyle asks, standing in the doorway to their temporary living quarters. It’s a single room with two bunk beds. Far too tight of a space for their quickly souring dynamics. 

“No, not recently.” Johnny says, lifting his head up from his pillow. He’s been crying again. “You, LT?”

LT. They argued earlier...more like yelled in each others’ faces until they had to be separated at the risk of things getting physical. Kyle’s not even sure what they had been arguing about in the first place. Probably something miniscule and unimportant. Everything seems to be setting them off like grenades. Pull the pin and watch them explode. They’re all on edge, all of them feeling the distance growing wider and wider despite their best efforts to stop it. 

“No.” Simon says simply, staring up at the bottom of the bunk over him. He’s flat on his back, hands folded on his stomach. He looks like a corpse, might have been mistaken for one if it hadn’t been for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He’s still in his mask. He hasn’t taken it off since he arrived in the field. 

It’s late, but none of them can sleep. None of them have been able to get much sleep since they arrived nearly two days ago. Weeks without good, decent sleep wears on the brain too. 

“If he comes back here, text me.” Kyle says before closing the door, resuming his search for their missing captain. 

John has been beating himself up for nearly two days now. Kyle’s never seen his captain quite so distraught and lost. He’s blaming himself, which in all fairness, he should be doing. It is his fault. Kyle will be the first to point blame in this situation, but none of them are truly blameless. None of them questioned it, none of them even argued with him on that decision. They followed blindly as they were supposed to for the first time in a long time. They didn’t question their captain, their alpha, their leader. 

He hates himself for it. 

Why didn’t he question it? Why didn’t he argue? Why didn’t he voice his opinion, fight back against that decision? He trusted his alpha when he shouldn’t have, and you paid for it. 

He’s glad he didn’t have to see you. He’s glad he didn’t have to face down the state Johnny and Simon found you in. He’s glad he didn’t have to see what you looked like even after the blood had been cleaned off and the true horror was revealed. 

He hasn’t gone to see you at all. 

He’s not sure he could handle it. You won’t care either way from the sound of it. You’ve been reduced to a shell, silent and empty. You’ve barely said a word since this morning, instead just lying there and staring at the ceiling according to the doctor when she’d updated them this afternoon.

Your body will heal slowly, but your mind will remain a battleground. 

He leaves the barracks, looking up at the dark sky. It’s clear tonight. He’d probably see the stars if there wasn’t constant light pollution around the base. What do the stars look like here? He’s stared up at the stars constantly in the last few weeks in places there was little light pollution. His only comfort about being away from you so long was the knowledge that you were under the same sky. Be it day or night, the stars were overhead. You wouldn’t be able to see them either way, but they were shining for you too. 

Now you’re both under the same stars, but you’re both still so far away.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze. He has a job to do, a captain to find. 

“Where are you John?” He breathes, looking in all directions, trying to decide which way to go next. He had stopped in at the med center already, but he wasn’t there. No one had seen him, even the doctor. He’s searched everywhere he could think to search, but his captain is nowhere to be found. 

John will kill him if he requests a base-wide search. 

He walks around the side of the barracks, hoping maybe he’ll run into John coming back this way. Usually he wouldn’t bother searching for him, but with his mind how it has been, Kyle can’t help but be worried. Even with the bonds fraying between them, he still has that instinctual need to make sure his alpha is okay. Instincts can’t be ignored. No matter how much bonds between packs fray, instincts will always remain the same. 

That’s why he still feels that urge to go and see you. 

John will kill him if he requests a base-wide search. 

He knows how self-destructive John can be despite how composed he makes himself appear. He’s only seen his alpha in that state once, and he has a feeling he’s about to a second time. 

He leans against the wall with a sigh when he reaches the other side of the barracks. Nothing. No sign of him. No texts from Johnny or Simon either. He’d asked Dr. Keller to let him know if he shows up in the med center too, but there’s been nothing. No word. No signs. 

Maybe he should just give up looking. John will find his way back to the barracks eventually. Or he won’t. 

That could be tomorrow’s problem. A distraction, a mission, something to give them purpose and force them to unite again. 

Find their missing captain. Find their missing alpha.

He turns back around to follow the sidewalk back to the front of the barracks when he hears shuffling footsteps dragging on the concrete. He turns, squinting into the darkness between lamps as a figure stumbles through the shadows, muttering under its breath. He knows that voice, he knows that figure. 

John. 

John stumbles forward, nearly falling but Kyle reaches out, catching him. His mind is racing, silently checking for any blood, any sign of injury, but there’s nothing. 

Maybe everything is finally getting to him. Maybe his body has finally been pushed to the limit and it’s giving out. He’s having a medical emergency. 

“Easy, sir.” He says, trying to calm his panic as he fights to keep John upright despite John’s body wanting to fall the rest of the way onto the ground. Kyle takes a breath in, catching the sour scent of alcohol wafting off his captain. 

Not a medical emergency, then. 

He sought out some liquid comfort instead. 

The thought makes Kyle’s chest twinge still. 

“’S all over.” John slurs, his weight getting heavier and heavier. “Everything is over.” He turns his head, blinking slowly. “Kyle?” 

“It’s me, sir. I’ve got you.” He slings John’s arm over his shoulders, making his weight easier to hold. 

“Kyle.” He slurs again, the two syllables blurring together. “Too good to me, Kyle.” John pulls his arm free, stumbling forward. 

Kyle just manages to lessen his fall onto the concrete, making sure John doesn’t smack the back of his head at least. He’ll have some scrapes and bruises tomorrow, though. Right now he probably can’t even feel it. If he was responsible, he’d take John to the med center, let him sleep off the alcohol on the safety of a gurney, but that would probably just cause more problems for everyone. 

John would be pissed when he woke up. 

He lets out a sigh as he stands there, staring down at his captain. John’s on his back, eyes up and focused on the sky, hiccuping every so often. He’s never seen his captain quite this drunk before, though he has heard stories of when John was younger. 

“I’ve killed her.” John mumbles. “I’ve killed all of us.” 

Kyle drops to a knee beside John. “You haven’t killed anyone.” 

“She’s fading away. Soon she’ll be gone.” He murmurs. “We’ll go too.” John pushes himself up to sit. “It’s all over. Everything is over.” 

Kyle grips John’s arms before he can fall back again, holding him in place. “Nothing is over yet, sir. We can still do something. It’ll just take time.” 

John turns to look at him, his eyes hazy and far away. “Kyle.” John says his name softly, reaching out to brush his fingers across Kyle’s cheek. “Pretty boy.” He slumps against Kyle’s chest, his weight nearly making both of them topple over. “Too good to me, Kyle.” 

“I care about you a lot, sir.” Kyle says, rubbing his back. “More than I think you realize.” He murmurs the last bit more to himself than anything. Not that John will likely remember any of this in the morning. “We should get you in bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” 

They do. They have to decide what to do next. 

“Come on.” He says, hauling John to his feet carefully. John lets him, letting Kyle wrap his arm around his shoulders. 

It’s slow going, Kyle half dragging John back to the barracks. He’s quiet at least, only the occasional scuffle of his footsteps as he stumbles breaking the quiet night. He gets John back to their room fairly easily, easing him into the other bottom bunk across from Simon. The room is still and silent aside from the occasional sniffle from one of the top bunks. 

He grabs the blanket from his own bunk, draping it across John instead. Maybe in his drunk state, the scent will bring him some comfort, help ease that ache inside of him.

He’s hoping John’s scent will do the same for him. 

“It’ll be alright, sir.” He says, making sure his captain is comfortable. He stands up, staring down at his Captain. “Everything will be fine.” 

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. 

John stares down into his tea as they sit around a table. His head is throbbing, pulsing heavily behind his eyes. It’s his own damn fault, going out and getting drunk like that. He hasn’t done it in years, yet he couldn’t stand the pain gnawing away at his chest. Alcohol hadn’t fixed it. It’s still there, still pulsing away. The alcohol had only numbed it at least for a few hours, and if anything, it made it worse. 

“Kate left this morning back to DC.” He says, glancing up at the other three members of his team. “They're still working on cleanup and helping Alex and Farah track Shepherd. I spoke with Dr. Keller this morning. We’ll be able to fly out soon.” 

The words hang heavy in the air. He hadn’t mentioned you at all, but he’s not sure he could without breaking down. You are improving slowly, Christine had said, giving him a sympathetic look as he squinted in the harsh fluorescents. She knew. She could tell just by looking at him. She’s that good at her job. 

He’s glad they have her. He’s glad you have her.  

“Where are we going tae go?” Johnny asks. 

“We can’t go back to base.” Simon says. 

“You’re right. Going back to base is too risky.” John says. “Shepherd could have eyes there already. And with her mind where it is...” Taking you back would be too much too soon, even without the risk. One of their own had already betrayed them once. They can’t trust anyone anymore. “We need somewhere secluded and quiet. Somewhere no one will know we’re going where we can lay low for a while.” Both out of necessity for their safety, but also for your sake. 

It falls silent between them. Shepherd knows all of their possible safehouses, all of the places they mind go to stay hidden. Those only they know off the record are hard to get to, requiring miles of hiking. You wouldn't be up for that even without the physical injuries, and they doubt you'd let one of them carry you. If they had to get out quickly...

“My parents have a place,” Kyle says, glancing up at them from his own cup of tea. “Out in Cornwall. A cottage near the cliffs. It’s quiet, secluded. No one knows about it but us. Tourist season is over too. There won't be many out there poking around this time of year.” Anyone wandering around out there that close would be suspicious.

“It’s a good option.” Johnny shrugs. 

“It’s our only option.” Simon says. 

“It’s exactly what we need.” Kyle says. “Trying to rent this time of year will only draw attention, and we can't trust we won't be ratted out. Shepherd likely still has allies. We were betrayed by one of our own before.” Kyle says. 

“You're sure no one else knows about it?” John asks, looking at his beta. 

“Just my parents and my siblings. They wouldn’t ask any questions if I told them it was being used.” Kyle shrugs. “It might be our best option.”

John looks around at them. It is their best option for now. He knows Kyle's family is just like the rest of theirs. They know they can't know and they won't ask questions. 

“We had a conversation once, months ago.” John says. “She told me she wanted to live next to the sea someday. She wants to be close enough that she can smell it and see it.” 

He pauses thinking back months ago after Simon left, after you were so affected by his absence. That conversation when you asked if he’d ever leave for you, when he told you if your life was ever in danger because of them he’d leave in a heartbeat. He’s made a liar out of himself. He broke his promise, so many promises, made not just to you. Not just to the pack. 

He glances at the other three, fighting back the lump in his throat, the endless threat of tears that has been rising like the tide and threatening to drown him at any moment. He’s made his decision, he’s made up his mind. 

You have to come first. 

His priorities have changed. There’s no initiative to follow, no orders to be given out. Kate was right. This is their moment to change things, this is his moment to change things. His pack will follow. Despite everything, they’ll trust him to make the right decision. They won’t hesitate to challenge him anymore, but there’s still that deeply ingrained trust in their alpha and captain. 

The alpha comes first. 

No, the omega comes first. 

He takes a sip of his tea, bitter without any milk, but it’ll do. “She wanted to be close to the sea.” He looks back up at the other three having made his decision. “Taking her there might just be what she needs.” 

NEXT ->

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[pansylair]

scanned in another sketchbook page to colour 💙

id: A digitally colored sketchbook page of a bust of a black character with a short afro and safety pin earring tenderly looking towards the viewer with a smile. The background is vivid blue and the illustration is coloured in with desaturated yellow-greens. A large star sits to the upper left of their face which is further framed by leafy plants. Wormy, serpent like creatures wind around them and the flora, all eyes staring and further observing the viewer.

[angelssmvse]

𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙏

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝙎𝙀𝙑𝙄��𝘼 𝙓 𝙁𝙀𝙈 !𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝜗𝜚 (smut)

𝜗𝜚 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 You've always been stubborn, with a tendency to insist that everything you say or want must be followed. However, at times, you would act in a slightly childish manner, which Sevika despised.

𝜗𝜚 𝘼/𝙉 I'm pleased to present my first one-shot smut—I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to share any requests you may have. Thank you, angels <3

𝜗𝜚 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 smut! minors DNI. This narrative contains mature themes and explicit content, including strong language, depictions of violence, adult situations (smut), and elements of both humor and tenderness. Reader discretion is advised.

“Control yourself, little girl,” she says casually in response to your ongoing complaints. “You know you can’t leave this place until I fix everything to ensure your safety.” Sevika moves closer to the items you’re working on and sits next to you, her gaze locked on you.

You roll your eyes. “Before you came along, I fought against some pretty tough and dangerous people—do you really think I can’t handle this?” She scoffs, looking down as she takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke in your direction. You cough dramatically. “Forget this, I’m out of here,” you declare, standing up quickly. But before you can leave, a metallic hand rests on your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

The two of you had a brief struggle before she managed to pin you down, carefully applying just enough pressure to restrain you without causing any harm. In an impulsive reaction, you bit her hand. Little did you know, this only fueled her anger further. Sevika growls, leaning closer to your ear. “Now, what the hell was that—hmm?” Her voice sends a shiver through you, causing your body to arch towards her. “Easy, easy,” she whispers soothingly.

You could feel her other hand, running gently from your waist to your ass leaving cold trails, you whimper as the air tenses. She loved it—loved to tease you and see you weak like this for her.

She began to kiss your neck leaving cute little spots on it just as a reminder later on, her kissed continue, first to the crook of your shoulders then chest, she stops looking up and smirks as she goes on, to your waist going progressively lower and lower.

You whimper as she goes down. Sevika pauses, looking up with a smirk. "I hate you," you whisper. She chuckles, "Oh really?"

You look up at her, amused. She smirks, breaking eye contact to glance at your soft, kissable lips. She moves closer until you can feel her warm breath, her nose brushing against yours, and then her lips against yours. Your hands rest on her neck, while hers encircle your waist as she guides you to sit on the nearest flat surface.

Sevika breaks the kiss and looks at you while her fingers try to find a way through your panties reaching your wet pussy, she smirks putting one finger first and then another making your heart accelerate and making you moan her name “Shhh now…” she teases you by accelerating her peace.

Right when you almost reached your climax she removes her fingers and tastes a bit of you before going down and ending up in between your legs; she starts off by kissing your inner tights, without breaking any eye contact, she wanted to see and hear everything—every movement, expression and screams you’d produce just for her, and only her.

She loved every minute of it, and sure as hell you did too.

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story; please do not copy nor translate without permission or proper attribution. I give credit for the character Sevika from the series "Arcane" by Riot Games. This is the only platform where I have published the story.

[godihatethiswebsite]

Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Three - Deja vu

Remember when I said this was supposed to be the easy side project made of easy to consume chapters that was supposed to be easy on my brain? Oh the way life throws a wrench in things.

Apologies for the wait but thank you for the patience! A bit longer of a chapter this time (almost double the length) because if you also read my other fic you'll know I have a moderation problem :)

Trigger warnings: angst, depression

Time converted its seconds into a slow-motion camera, capturing the hectic moment as a series of shutter clicks in your mind. Rich earthy elixirs trapped like icicles in a frozen pour from heated spouts. Spare precious change suspended in mid-air spilled from jittery hands. A systolic heartbeat waiting to finish its rhythm. An overplayed Christmas jingle with the record player set to the lowest speed. 

How did you not pick up on the telltale signs sooner? It wasn’t as if this was a first occurrence for you anymore. Precious moments of escape wasted daydreaming of warm comfort when it could’ve been spent backpedaling to the safety of your vehicle. Even more insulting when you considered how perceptive you’d been not ten minutes prior, untrusting of your nose to keep you from trouble in the supermarket bakery, head on a dizzying swivel for any more unwanted surprises.

Yet here you were again, betrayed by the very caffeine that was supposed to be your savior, too slow to duck back out the shop before your scent had a chance to reach his nostrils. 

Now you were pinned in place by a complete stranger who had no business smelling that edible.

Pupils blown wide mirrored your own. Blue irises framed by full lashes contrasted against a faded tan that spoke of time spent abroad in warmer climates. Dark brown hair shorn close on the sides peaked into a mussed up mohawk, slightly damp from melted snow and tousled by the wind. Your eyes unfocused to take in the body belonging to the man - shifting lower, past slightly parted lips greedily inhaling your scent and a craggy chin scar encircled by a dusting of dark stubble. 

A deep brown leather bomber jacket stretched tight across broad shoulders only a few shades darker than his hair, upturned against the elements and protecting a tree trunk neck, accented along the trim by matching tufts of a lighter insulating sherpa. A hint of medium wash jeans caught in your periphery, unable to glance further at the lower portion of his body, too encapsulated by the cosmic force that kept you snared within his gaze.

The back of your neck prickled with the knowledge that whatever was passing between you in the charged space across the checkerboard tiles was a transient mirage at best and a dangerous amalgam of broken aspirations at most. That grim lesson had been embedded into your retinas the hard way– 

No matter how potent the connection, this man was not yours. 

You shouldn’t be here. You should not be here.

The alpha didn’t miss the way you transferred your weight onto your back leg. Predatory focus latched onto the subtle way you shifted, instincts preparing behind barely contained canines. You’d accidentally triggered something; a millennia’s worth of ingrained primality overriding the structured norms of good societal behaviour. Like an old timey saloon, it was an overstrung standoff to see whose will would break first.

Your need to run outweighing his need to possess. 

Eyes narrowed slightly, he pointed right at you with a warning look. In a rough brogue, “Don't…”

You didn't listen.

“Hey hey hey–!” 

It was all too familiar now - this choreographed dance of avoiding uncomfortable affairs instead of facing them head on, ignoring the startled clamor of bewildered customers as you darted past a group of unsuspecting teenagers through the narrowing gap of the cafe door.

Nearly bowling an elderly couple over in your haste to escape, you fumbled out a half-hearted apology as you skidded around the next corner with a high pitched squeak, losing traction on the glassy ice in your well-worn snow boots and catching yourself on a vintage lamp post that you used like a springboard to gain a few precious milliseconds of a head start. 

This was twice in two days now that you’d undergone a fateful encounter the majority of the population could only dare dream of. And here you were bolting from destiny like a frazzled rabbit scurrying helplessly through the underbrush from what should have been your savior.

What the hell kinda luck was this?! And why did it have to choose now of all times?!

The door flung open only moments after, the previously innocent bell chime now a harbinger of doom. Heavy footfalls slapped through the condensed slush of snowfall. Something feral rose up in the presence of a hunter in pursuit of his quarry. 

There was something on your tail, and it felt far more intimidating than a starving wolf leering at his lunch.

Your pulse was bellowing in your ears, weaving through the conglomerated foot traffic as best you could with a body not prepared for a long winded chase. A hot poker stitched your side and hobbled your gait. Frost coated your lungs with every ragged inhale, sapping what little breath capacity you had and crippling until you were little more than a wounded mammal, panicky and acting on pure foolish adrenaline. The rational part of your brain spoke of the futility against someone his size, the brief glimpse afforded to you of his stocky frame earlier proof that your alpha was capable; well fed, sculpted for survival, muscles made of endurance and stamina. 

Everything desired in a good mate, the back of your mind unhelpfully supplied.

Long strides ate up the distance, navigating the pavement far more sure footed than you.

“Bleedin’ Christ!” growled out the voice. “Will ye jus’– wait!”

The firm grip on your bicep rather than his frustrated words was what halted you in your tracks. The slippery slush beneath your feet gave way to an involuntary squeak as another hand snapped out to steady your skidding, keeping you from tucking ass over tea kettle. Heavy breaths turned visible in the frigid winter air as you panted from exertion, sucking in a heady mixture of espresso and chilled vapors that fogged up your mind and muddled your senses. 

Fuck, he smelled good.

A gloved hand shuffled you further out of the way from the crowds of passersby, huddling beneath a shopkeeper's veranda, muffled conversation from the building’s interior a muted buzzing compared to the ringing in your ears. He shifted so as to take the brunt of the whipping winds on his back, sheltering you from the worst of it and allowing you to blink clear the stinging snowflakes from your eyes.

Although you never really stood any substantial chance of escape, there was still something surreal to be said about standing toe to toe with an alpha outside your family circle. He beheld you with the same wide eyed stare you gawked at him with, pupils stuck in a constant state of dilation as he huffed in your shared air, just as drunk off his scent match as you were. At this proximity, even the outside breeze wasn’t enough to dampen the waves of pheromones spiking like heated tesla coils between you. Unlike you, he found it in him to scrounge together just enough self control to soften his stance and manage a relaxed smile your way.

“There now, lass.” His words weren’t winded in the slightest, something that petulantly annoyed you in your weakened state - even if the accented baritone of his vibrato was soothing the consternation from your veins. “See? No need fer misbehavin’.”

There was an obvious gentling to his tone; something placating with an edge of sternness that felt at odds with his choice of haircut. Blue orbs roamed your face as if he half expected you to collapse on him, no longer holding on to you but keeping a readied hand hovering in case your shaky legs gave way. Truthfully - with how you were still sucking in breaths - you weren’t quite sure his assistance wouldn't be needed.

“Christ, LT was right about ye. Got a scent that can skelp a man flat on his arse.”

Even in your current state he must’ve judged you steady enough to maintain balance, despite still keeping the rigid preparedness in his shoulders as his hands sought a place in denim pockets. “Got a habit fer runnin’, dontcha?”

The capability of speech was all but lost to you, tongue cemented to the roof of your mouth and dry as a wilted prune abandoned on the vineyard soil. You’d at least managed the bare minimum of appearing less like a beached guppy by snapping your jaw shut, but the snicker from his lips at whatever he found while searching your face revealed your inadequacy to mask as a functioning human.

Azure eyes sparkled with mirth. “I ken I’m a looker, hen, but I ‘ave tae say it’s been a while since I’ve left a bonnie lass like yerself truly speechless. Strokin’ my ego a bit, ye are.”

“Your coffee…”

The first words you say to the man of your dreams and all you can think of is his wasted cup left unoccupied on the counter.

“Eh, it’s only a drink.” His shoulder’s finally loosened with a shrug. “More concerned about yers. Not tae make ye feel bad, lass, but ye’re lookin’ a wee bit peckish if I can say.”

So your mirror liked reminding you every morning. 

You waved him off on instinct, not needing the alpha to start concerning himself with your health. Not like there was much either of you could do about it. “It’s fine. Shouldn't be spending the money anyways.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that answer, raising an eyebrow at your justifiably frazzled appearance, but choosing not to question it just the same.

“Gonna be honest, lass. Wasn't exactly expectin’ ta bump into ya.”

You could tell by the bite marks on another woman’s neck.

No. Stop it girl. That’s not fair to him.

You shoved back the bitter taste of jealousy, forcing a smile you both knew was awkward. “Yea… what are the odds…”

“Mind ye, when the others mentioned their wee run-in with ye at the shop the other night I ken’d there was a chance– Christ, when Cap’n finds out the…” His words carried on, but you stopped processing them beyond a certain point in his ramblings, focusing more on the melody as it slowly faded to the background. There was a lilt to his speech that didn’t quite fit the occasion - at least to you. A restrained awe; measured happiness so as not to overwhelm you right off the bat with unbridled emotion. 

Part of you was thankful for his careful insight considering the delicate nature of the situation. But even so, the squiggly edges of his personality felt forcefully crammed into an elaborate puzzle rather than fitting naturally into a predetermined space.

You should be thrilled to be having this conversation. Things should be clicking and the world should make sense and his voice should be songbirds twittering in your ear on a beautiful summer’s day without a cloud in the sky and…

All you can hear is the man in a blue camry honking at the lady jaywalking in front of his car, the squeal of halted tires and shouted insults from hot spilled coffee across his lap. The poor woman on the corner shaking a can of loose pennies in hopes of a two dollar meal from the shop down on 7th Ave. Dogs barking at strangers and high heels clacking on wet slushy pavement. 

Overstimulation hits you hard, leaving you incapable of making out anything but the shapes of his mouth without any of the feedback. His voice muffles despite only the foot distance between you, and try as you might you have no idea what’s causing that smile on his face. For all you know he could be just as easily discussing the week's snowy forecast or reciting Chaucer like those lunatics on the steps outside the performing arts college. 

The nagging presence makes itself known in the back of your mind, adding to the chaos plugging your senses and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a way that has nothing to do with the chill. The disgruntled alpha half a country away calls to your fraying nerves, taking advantage of your weakened mentality and twisting like a gnarled root around your windpipe. You disguise the full body trembles with a forced shiver, the restlessness of your fingers giving in to the urge to claw at your mating mark, hiding the motion by readjusting your scarf more securely and clearing your throat. A cold sweat breaks out underneath the insulating layers of warmth, adding to the already miserable conditions of the snowy bluster. There’s only so much more you can take before you split apart at the threads and reveal to the stranger just how rotted your insides were.

You needed to end the interaction.

“Look–” you interrupt his languid tirade, voice barely holding steady and as timid as a field mouse, mittened palm up to keep him from going any further and stunning him into silence. “You don’t have to do this. This kinda thing just… doesn’t happen to normal people. I’m not gonna hold anything against you when it was a one in a billion chance of us ever crossing paths. You have your life and I have mine.”

Something hard caught in your throat and gummed up your words, threatening to crawl into your lungs and make a permanent home if you focused on it for too long - gave it too much power. You hoped he didn’t see the way you forced yourself to push through. “Let’s just… be adults, acknowledge that it happened, and go about our day as if we were two strangers passing by on the street. No expectations, no mess. ‘Kay?”

Clearly not envisioning that reaction now that he’d finally gotten his paws on you, something in his look tightened at being told ‘no’. “Hardly seems fair.”

Who was he to know ‘fair’?

“And what about us?” he continued with an unexpected bite. “Ye think we can jus’ ignore the fact that our scent match is wanderin’ about somewhere in the city unguarded and at risk of bein’ hurt or– or taken?”

You could almost taste the self satisfaction flaring across the tainted bond, fighting back a wave of nausea and bristling at the emotional wound he unknowingly gut punched.

“And your omega?” You watched him flinch at the obvious retort, both hating and relishing in his discomfort at having reality thrown back in his face. At least you both knew there was an element of betrayal lingering beneath the surface. “You really want her to have to come home every day with you smelling like another woman? Your fated woman? Do you realize the damage that’ll cause not just to her but to your mating bonds?”

In a perfect world, this whole encounter would be different. He’d say hi, you’d give him your most winning smile. The two of you would go back to the cafe and he’d pay for your coffee. You'd sit across from each other with stars in your eyes, getting to know the ins and outs of their soul for however much time your schedules allowed, blowing off prior commitments in favor of lyrical words dancing sugar plums around your head. Numbers would be exchanged and you’d both part ways feeling lighter and hopeful and impatiently waiting for the start of the next exciting chapter.

God, you hated fairy tales. 

The alpha was clearly frustrated at how the conversation was playing out, scratching a rough hand through his mohawk with a groaned out hiss, eyes darting around empty space as a grimaced mouth searched for the right words. “Look, lass. The four of us–” 

Four. There were four of them. Four mates. 

“–aren’t gonna stop worryin’, not now that we ken ye’re within reach and without a pack of yer own.” Blue eyes skimmed downwards trying to peer beyond the veil of your scarf, flicking back up to your face when he failed, searching for a sign that you remain unmated as he suspects by your reactions thus far. 

Glancing off to the side, you avoid his gaze and focus on the piles of brown snow gathered along the curb, not trusting yourself to keep a straight face under his careful scrutiny. He must take your avoidance as confirmation, returning to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, yea. We’ve already bonded another. Nothin’ tae be done about it now and there’s no use bawlin’ o’er what might ‘ave been. But if ye think that's gonna stop us from tryin’ tae be a part of yer life then yer sorely mistaken.” 

There’s an endearing quality to his convictions - as misguided as you believe them to be. So sure of himself, reflected in the take-no-objections posture and firm set of his brows. All confident alpha bravado. 

A small part of you keens at his certitude, recognizing it on a primal level and wanting to bask in the commanding presence your– the alpha provides. But those same instincts that scream at you to welcome his protective nature also serve as a reminder of why that could never work.

There’s a reason packs only keep one omega. While alphas are stereotyped as being the possessive pigheaded brutes who covet your kind like unstable beasts, everyone knows there is none so fierce as a territorial omega, baring her teeth to encroaching females without a moment’s hesitation to defend. It’s not like you’re the worst sorts of overly attached pack mates though. Society wouldn't be able to function if an omega snapped every time they all came within three feet of each other. 

But to have the two coexisting within the same ecosystem fighting over the affections of the same alphas…

If the heartbreak wouldn’t kill them, the blood on their teeth will.

The fact that he’s trying to send all that flying out the window is both impressive and infuriating in its stubbornness. 

Your own voice is far more subdued as you fidget with the hem of your coat. “That’s not how this is supposed to work…”

“Oh aye? Turnin’ down gaggles of soulmates jus’ a light Saturday mornin’ fer ya then?”

Despite the dour mood, you huffed in something akin to levity at his words, feeling some of that tension unreel from your bones in the face of the small upward curve of his lips that accompanied them. “If I say yes will that convince you to throw in the towel?”

Enchanting eyes sparked with determination and something playful. “Hate to break it tae ya, lass, but we’re a right stubborn bunch o’ blokes.”

“And her?” 

Cerulean eyes hardened again. “We’ll sort that out between us.” 

A leather covered arm reaches out to guard your left side, a firm body stepping into your space to block you from a passing beta encroaching too close on your private conversation. You don’t miss the slight rumble in his chest given as a warning to the traipsing man, the subtle growl claiming this spot and two of you in it, an intimidating scowl berating him for nearly knocking into you because of it. It catches you off guard, unconsciously leaning into the alpha's safety from the unaware intruder, the heady scent of freshly ground coffee beans permeating his clothes and coating you in a fresh pot to ease your delicate nerves.

It takes the two of you a moment to separate despite both of you knowing the ‘threat’ is gone; and even then the amount of space between is kept minimal at best. It’s hard to deny the pull molecularly chaining you to this man whose pheromones are carving out spaces in the cracks between the marrow like rapids, filling the pock marked gaps and branding your existence as something completely different than it was before. 

The structural fibers in your body are being split in half like colliding atoms in a particle accelerator. It’s a molecular tug of war between listening to ancestral instincts imploring you to stay with the protective alpha and past emotional trauma begging you not to give in to complicated matters of the heart. You’ve been hurt once before by someone of his kind and the last thing you needed was to punt yourself all the way back to square one when it had taken you so long to reach this part of your healing journey. 

You know where that path leads. There’s nothing waiting for you but despair.

Unknowing or lacking regard for your internal struggle, the alpha surprises you by shifting his arm to sprawl across your shoulder, a gentle but unrelenting force ushering you back in the direction you’d originally come running from, the deceptively casual grip brokering no room for argument. “Now, what’s say we make up fer scarin’ ye earlier with that cup of caffeine ye were gantin’ after, eh?” 

Maybe if you’d possessed a stronger will you might’ve opened your mouth to protest his commanding treatment over you. Instead, nestled close to his body and tucked in tight against his shoulder, he was gentleman enough not to comment on the small whiff you snuck on your way back to the cafe.

The soft instrumentals playing festive tunes over the cafe speakers were an appreciated break from the harsh monotony of whirring kitchen equipment. Depictions of snowmen and candy canes painted artistically on the inside glass celebrated the joyous season. Evergreens and mistletoe; frozen fractals falling from white fluffy clouds. A veritable winter wonderscape - the natural frost accumulated on the outside only adding to the weathering effect. 

Red and green twinkle lights hung strewn across overhead support beams. Garlands with small plastic ornament bobbles snaked around the insides of display cases. An electric votive nestled cozily in miniature wreaths and placed at every table flickered warmly for an added ambience to the already welcoming interior.

The holiday decorations had been up since Thanksgiving, but you’d never taken a moment to really notice them, too focused on the transactional exchange and the time on your phone to give it more than a passing glance of acknowledgement. Fidgeting in your seat, it was a welcome distraction.

You’d been ushered towards one of the secluded tables upon returning to the cozy cafe, your companion either ignorant or uncaring of the odd glances tossed your way by those still inside who witnessed your previous outburst. You kept your head ducked from the initial embarrassment, blood heating your face as he helped you out of your coat and slung it over the back of your chair, making sure you were settled before sauntering off towards the register to place the drink order you’d rattled off. 

While he stood distracted at the counter amongst a sea of waiting customers, one of the older baristas with a candy cane apron discreetly tried to flag down your attention, meticulously cleaning one of the espresso machines with a soiled napkin purposefully tilted away from his view. 

The words in scribbled sharpie pointed your way: ‘You ok?’

Touched by her concern, you gave her a surprisingly genuine smile despite your jittery insides, easing her enough to pass along a thumbs up as she goes back to working on whatever festive drink concoction the lady at the drive thru has deigned to torture her with. It was kind of her to look after you given the strangeness of the day. But against what should be all rational thought you trusted the man who was for all intents a complete stranger.

Here’s to hoping life didn’t pair you with a serial killer.

Shaking your head of such nonsense (hopefully), it took you a moment to recall the last time you gave yourself permission to linger somewhere. With the exception of the hour spent every week in Dr. Miranda’s office, you avoided congregating in public spaces for more than the few minutes it took to get in, get out, and return to the safety of your abode. Crowds made you skittish; the abused animal inside burrowed deep within your rib cage voicing its objections and reflecting its displeasure in the way it made you outwardly twitch. Once upon a time even stepping foot in a place like this - enclosed, swirling with clashing aromas, a singular point of escape - seemed like such an unattainable goal. Even now the awareness of the situation caused your agoraphobia to writhe under your skin, poisoning like fire ant venom and tempting your lungs into anaphylactic shock. 

Deep breaths, girl. In… out… in… out… let it wash over you… inhale… exhale… 

You are safe. You are safe. You are– 

Like nails on a chalkboard, the scratching of wood against ceramic jostled you from your meditative process, an involuntary yelp met with a small grin of apology as the imposing alpha placed your own drink in front of you before taking up residence in the open seat across. Something about the setting exacerbated his already potent smell, mixing with the sweetness of the beverages and leaving you with a deep gnawing ache to lean across the table and drink it straight from the source.

The tide of anxiety receded back to the depths of your mind, your inner omega settling in the presence of your scent match. Even if you couldn’t escape the dark presence prowling like a half-starved panther on the other end of the bond, the natural relief that came with sitting three feet away from your opposite designation had you breathing steadier than you had since leaving therapy a short while ago. You may not be entirely comfortable with this predicament, but at least the attention came with a few built in perks. 

The fake candle in the center highlighted the limited edition designs on your respective drinks, but it’s the name scrawled in sparkly black sharpie that catches your attention on his disposable cup. “MacTavish?”

“John,” he confirms, “pleasure ta meet ya, lass. Though I s’pose tha’s how I should’ve started things out in the first place. With, ya know… manners.”

“Not like I made introductions easy for us…” you mumbled with a wince, tracing over the cafe’s symbol on your cup as a small distraction from having to make eye contact at the admission.

“Aye, ye didn’t. But I cannae fault ye fer havin’ a sense of self preservation starin’ down a big burly Scotsman, now can I?” 

It had been moreso about running from your problems than being outright intimidated by the man, but you weren’t about to question his assumption and open up a whole new can of worms in the process. “Right...”

There was a brief pause as he stared at you expectantly, hoping you’d return the favor now that he’d taken that first step with an official greeting. Something about offering up even that little part of yourself scared you though. It felt like handing over power to the fae folk; like once he knew your name he could strip the autonomy from your spirit and ensnare you forever in his enchanted domain.

Instead, you took a sip from the hot liquid in your hands, soothed by the syrupy blend like a steady palm rubbing lines down your back. Not nearly as good as the earthy bouquet your nose had been sampling with every inhale. Maybe if you’d added a pump of caramel…

You fought desperately to ignore the part of your brain that whispered comparisons to the rich espresso-y figure across the way, stopping any and all sidetracking towards scandalous thoughts of a more private taste testing. 

This was not the time for slick inducing fantasies.

Once he realized he wouldn’t receive an echoing answer, he mirrored you with his own brew, humming in approval at whatever pleasant taste he found and dropping the subject temporarily. Thankful he didn’t push, you read further down on his own drink, unable to help the small scoff of surprise after reading the incriminating label.

“A sugar cookie latte? Not the most masculine of drinks, is it?” You’re not sure where you found the courage to softly tease him over his beverage of choice. Clearly his heavy alpha pheromones were messing with your logic receptors. “Thought your kind liked to keep things dark and bitter.” 

“I'm an alpha, lass. Chasin’ after sweet smellin’ omegas is what we do fer fun.” There was a sparkle there that hinted towards your earlier predicament, a not so subtle implication combined with his cheeky grin that reassured you it was all good natured. You at least had the decency to duck your head abashedly, face heating up from more than just the warming drink. “Kinda gives us a wee proclivity fer honeyed tastes.”

Honestly, he had a point. Can’t say you’d ever thought of it that way before. I mean, seriously. Whoever said alphas needed to be gritty when they came naturally ingrained with a sweet tooth?

“Guess that’s why she smells like chocolate.”

Your lips formed the words without thought, something mean tugging at you the same time he did. Nails bite into the recycled coffee sleeve like sharpened teeth, taking out the urge to scratch on the poor item rather than call attention to the scarf still secured around your neck. Couldn’t even get through a normal outing without him adding his two cents to the mix.

A hard tap on the tabletop called your attention back to John. You’d maybe expected an affirming response, but what you don't expect is to find him staring at you from across the table with a suddenly serious expression, speaking to you in an almost chiding manner. “I'd rather ye didn’t bring up sore spots to intentionally cause yerself pain.”

He didn’t allow you to hide, his face moving in tandem with yours as you attempted to duck his gaze, the blunt observation leaving you sheepish as you worried your bottom lip. 

“...can't avoid the conversation forever.”

“Aye. But the least we can do is get ta know each other first.”

That genuinely puzzled you. “Why?”

Even through the bulk of his winter coat you could see the way the material stretched to make way for his biceps as he crossed them over his chest, leaning back in his seat as he regarded you with easy going eyes. “Yer my scent match, lass. Ye think I'm not o’er ‘ere stewin’ in a fruity cocktail wishin’ I’d ‘ave taken ye tae a juice bar instead?”

Your face heated again at the implication. Seems his own thought pattern wasn’t too terribly dissimilar to the wiley suggestions pawing at your psyche with scintillating ideas of debauchery. “Wouldn't go that far...”

“Got no shame in admittin’ yer drivin’ me up the wall.”

He really didn’t, did he? 

“Not sure you should be saying things like that.”

“Probably.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Ne’er been one fer followin’ rules though. Doesnae make sense when we're both wantin’ the same thing.”

You examined him over the rim of your cup, forearm resting on the sticky laminate as you leaned in closer, almost imploring in your tone. “Isn't that just further proof we shouldn't even be talking right now?”

Taking a sip of his own, he brushed off your concerns like a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Ye really think ye can jus’ wipe yer hands and forget about us?”

Silence laid thick in the air between you. There was no point denying when he felt every bit the earth-rattling gravity well that had the two of you touching toes beneath the table. 

He didn’t even bother trying to hide the smugness from his expression. “Exactly. I may not be takin’ ye ta my bed, lass, but yer mine nonetheless.”

You shouldn't have liked the way that sounded. For the past four years of your life you’ve been unwilling property to a man holding you confined in a secret realm of bleak oblivion. You’ve begged and pleaded through every starless sky to go back to being the woman you were before fate intervened, desperate for peace in an internal war. All you ever wanted was freedom; to bound over mountains and soar across fields. To scrape off the layers belonging to him and build castles in the clouds far beyond his reach.

Yet here you were thanking the maker of scent wicking panties that your match couldn’t detect the perfume wafting up between your legs at the thought of him staking his claim over you.

“So,” he went on, “we figure out a way tha’ we can be in yer life that doesnae cross any boundaries and ye gain four brutes that'll gladly shank a man fer ya.”

You raise an eyebrow at his choice of wording before taking a sip from your cup. “Sounds a tad extreme if you ask me.”

Canines gleaming, the look he sends you is downright carnivorous. “Oh, yer in fer a spell, lass.”

Chatter turns to small talk in an effort to distract you from the discomfort of previous conversation. Turns out he’d drawn the short straw when he and his pack mates realized over piles of paperwork and exhaustive meetings that certain individuals who would not be named - but he’d been more than happy to throw under the bus - hadn’t checked some things off their list while out doing a routine grocery run the other night. Seems like the previous two you’d met were left nearly as shaken as you after the encounter, forgoing the last few needed aisles in favor of ending things early to process tough decisions behind closed doors.

That’s all the information he offers; no further details exchanged on the matter. The internal workings of your personal lives kept private. It didn’t take a mathematician to understand why you prefer to remain guarded, but you assume on his end it had a fair bit to do with the obnoxious purple elephant in the room, trumpeting and stampeding all over the future you could’ve built had it just stayed locked in a zoo. There’s still some moments along the line where he lays a trail of tiny bread crumbs, challenging you with hungry eyes to follow the path through winding woodland and glittering caves towards whatever lay beyond. You’re tempted a few times to chance a couple steps, toeing the line of curiosity but always pulling back to the safety of the unknown. 

The less you know about their lives the better. You never even inquire as to the missing three names.

Eventually you settle on the topic of just how exactly he proposed this hairbrained… relationship?... was going to work. Fuck, there really had to be a better word for it. Not friends, not lovers. Not a situationship. Not total strangers anymore.

Companions? Counterparts? Symbiotes?

Either way, you’d both been spouting suggestions for the better part of five minutes and you weren’t any closer to a solution that would leave both parties feeling satisfied. Granted the only thing that could work for you would be as little interaction as humanly possible, but he was firm in his convictions.

“We can keep it ta texts fer right now if ye like.”

“But then she'll feel bad if she sees you writing them.”

“Then we'll jus’ ‘ave tae come visit.”

“But then I'll feel like some sleazy homewrecking call girl.”

“Now yer jus’ bein’ a numpty.”

“I’m being realistic.”

“Yea, ye should stop tha’.”

“John!”

“Lass.”

Oh, how you wanted to wipe that flippant laughter off his face and pry it from his mouth with dental tools. The damn thing was unfairly infectious in the way it warmly beckoned a smile to your lips. Here you were trying to be sensible about the situation he created and so far all attempts to come to some sort of compromise were met with off handed ribbing and facetiousness.

You wouldn’t admit that some of the holdup was partially your fault - looking for desperate excuses to keep this from happening - but it hung suspended in the quiet between your words. And what’s more he knew it too.

“What about the occasional email?” you threw out for the hell of it.

John outright guffawed at the ridiculous suggestion, drawing the attention of some of the surrounding tables without a care towards who heard, brawny arms tossed upward in fond exasperation. “This ain’t a business transaction, hen! Saints, what a notion…”

“Well…” you sputtered, “then it seems like we’ve reached an impasse.” 

Please just drop it.

He just looked at you with further amusement, swirling circles on the table with the bottom edge of his now empty coffee cup. “Ye always a neurotically charged mess or is this jus’ my lucky day?”

Oh god. In your desperation to undo the upheaval he’s already causing in your life you really weren’t painting a pretty picture of yourself were you? 

You cringed backwards at the realization. “Pretty sure you’re the reason I’m making myself look like one.”

“Aye, but a bonnie one,” he agrees.

“And you’re not worried about the mental stability of the person which life has comedically deemed yours and is making a complete fool of herself?”

“Just tryin’ tae make ye smile. It's been workin’.” A fact he looked quite proud of.

And it was. You couldn't deny that. For how much havoc this was wreaking on the parts of yourself that had become so ill equipped to handle basic human interactions outside your minuscule inner circle, there was a part of you that was glad to find you still possessed the capability of laughing with a stranger.

The conversation paused as his brow knit in confusion, the faint buzzing of a cell phone rattling in his pocket barely audible over the din as he drew it from the interior lining of his coat. The way he held the device and flicked through it with his thumb implied a text message as opposed to a phone call, huffing as he read over the contents before palming it in his meaty hand.

“Och, the louses are houndin’ me fer their caffeine fix. Hang on a tic, lass.” Flashing a quick smile, his chair slid back with a sharp squeak as he stood, strolling back towards the counter and flagging down an unoccupied barista. It was impossible not to follow him with your eyes, ogling his stocky frame as he rattled off coffee orders from the conversation pulled up on his phone. Even the sweet beta girl behind the register wasn’t impervious to his roguish charms; just a little more subtle in the way she admired the casual arrogance in which he leaned against the marble. 

How long had it been since you last let your eyes wander over the shape of a man and thought of something other than a rancid dumpster and abrasive brick scraping morse code across your exposed back?

There was something uniquely disarming about the alpha. In many ways his ability to break past your bullshit reminded you of Dr. Miranda. Both refused to let you spiral to darker thoughts, spinning the world into one of muted colors rather than shades of desolate gray. But where she spent years undoubtedly locked in a study hall pouring over dissertations and cramming decades of designation theory over red bulls and ramen, John had accomplished that same level of trust in a matter of–

You checked the time on your phone. The pair of you had been sitting in this cafe for roughly fifteen minutes now. That’s all it took for this whirlwind of a man to blow away the cobwebs accumulating in your chest and deliver a shot of adrenaline to your synapses.

Too bad the monster in your veins would make sure it didn’t last.

John came back from the counter holding a cardboard coffee carrier by the handle, looking down at you expectantly from his position towering over you. “Right, lass. Need tae be droppin’ these,” he raised his arm a smidge, gesturing to the drinks, “off tae the lads. So hows about we quit the stallin’ and skip tae the part where ye stop overthinkin’ things and lemme have yer number?”

He didn’t even let you open your mouth in feeble defense of that (true) statement before serving you a warning look that dissolved the syllables from the tip of your tongue. From what little you’d gathered during your brief stint together, you didn’t doubt his potential gumption to wrangle you to the cold tile floor - even in the presence of all these people - just to fish the device out of your pocket himself if need be.

Personally, you didn’t feel up to testing his bluff. 

Working off pure muscle memory, you handed over your phone and watched as he pulled up your messaging app, inputting his name amongst the scant others on the list and shooting off a fruit emoji. If he noticed the sparse amount of contacts in your phone he didn't comment on it. Not like it was hard to miss a grand total of four separate text chains.

His phone buzzed again from the text he sent himself, handing back your device with a smile that erred on the side of slightly devious contentment. The bastard knew he won and was being unfairly smug about it. “There now. See how easy that was, lass? Perfectly painless.”

That’s when it hit you.

“What if she says no?” The sheer panic gripping your chest catches you off guard as much as the blurted out words. Trepidation crushes like a hydraulic press, the thought of this precious fleeting moment being all you ever get seizing your body like a hundred electrified shocks. The rickety tower of emotional stability you’d been working so hard to keep steady seemed to crumble beneath your feet now that there was a chance he wouldn't be around to keep it from falling. “What if this is all just some big mistake and we never should have met and I end up ruining your pack–”

Gods, this was so fucked up. A minute ago you wanted nothing more than to never hear from John again and now your inner omega was giving you whiplash trying to cling to an alpha that wasn’t hers by the skin of her blunted teeth. 

This was exactly why you didn’t want to have anything to do with them in the first place! It was a no win scenario that was only going to make things worse by confusing your already emotionally precarious omega. Delaying the inevitable. Dragging things out. Torturing her wounded soul trying to wring water from stone.

But you couldn’t give him up anymore - not now. Maybe once you’re home safe in your nest and can breathe clean air not tainted with his fragrance. When you’ve forgotten the oceanic hues that gleam at you with such open eagerness. When his brogue and his candor are replaced with flashes of doe eyed brown and thick flowing locks and the taste of chocolatey truth cuts too deep to heal. Maybe distance will make this ache inside easier to bear. 

But at this moment, despite your earlier hesitations, you weren’t ready for the clock to strike midnight on the impossible.

If he couldn’t read the distress on your face then he certainly was made aware of it by the sour smell of overripe fruit cascading off of you, bitter and tart and pungent as you began to spiral, getting lost in a torrent of what ifs and worst case scenarios. 

You never got to finish your verbal stream of consciousness. Alpha instincts snapped into action before you could begin blowing fumes, disregarding his coffee as he hoisted you up from your seat with immediate alertness. Strong arms encased your vulnerable form, one hand cradling the back of your neck with gentle pressure, engaging the bundle of nerves located there with a direct line to the body’s limbic system. An omega’s weak spot; it overrides all internal circuitry and sends calming signals to the brain, disengaging stress receptors, activating the amygdala, bringing you to a headspace of obedience and security. It was highly taboo to touch an omega there without their explicit permission; a right reserved only for close family members and chosen pack mates. 

You should be angry– you should be furious. How dare he assume that just because he was your scent match that it gave him any right to manhandle you! Robbing your ability to retake control and leaving you just as helpless as that fateful night in the alley.

But he was. And you just didn’t care. Call it biology working against you, but all you felt in that moment was a deep rooted need to sink into his grounding embrace and let your mind go blissfully blank. Trusting in fate to send you an alpha with morals and integrity. Handing over the keys to a man who knew how to drive.

Releasing more of his smooth creamy scent into the air around you, body and designation worked in tandem to soothe every aspect of your overwhelmed being. Outside influences floated away with all the cares of the world, revolving around a fixed point in space exactly where you stood. Nothing else existed in this fraction of the universe. Just two souls destined to be together by forces beyond comprehension.

This was what you were made for. This felt right.

And, god– he was purring for you.

“Hey hey– shhh shhh. Settle, omega, settle... easy now. Jus’ like tha’... There’s a good lass.”

Slowly but surely, the acrid odor of anxiety faded back into the sweet juicy scent of a fresh crisp pear. A small whine escaped your lips as he sapped your body of strength, held aloft only by the taut muscles in his forearms. Glazed over eyes reflected the haze fogging your senses, melting you down into something gooey and malleable that dripped like corn syrup, sticky and coating every inch of your skin in a clear varnish. Breathing became easier. The heavy thumping in your ears faded back to white noise. Bones turned rubbery and tendons fell limp until you could no longer remember what upset you in the first place.

No longer needing the subduing effects of gentling, his hand moved from its spot at the back of your neck to the base of your skull, thumb tenderly stroking where skin met hair, shushing soft assurances against your temple.

“Ye needn’t worry a strand on tha’ bonnie wee head of yers. Ye dunnae ken her like we do. Jus’ leave everythin’ tae me. I’ll sort things right as rain, yea?”

The rational part of your brain knew better than to believe honeyed lies, but in the cloudy serotonin you simply nodded into the dark leather of his coat, spellbound under his tranquilizing touch.

“Atta girl. C’mon, let’s get ye tae yer car.”

Helping you back into your coat, he made sure you were bundled up nice and snug before shuffling you outside into the frosty air, a hand resting over the small of your back in a way you didn’t object to in your current slothful state. The chime felt a little less abrasive this time around as you exited the cafe, moving in the direction of your car parked in its spot alongside the bustling rush hour traffic.

You knew the elderly thing was a spectacle to behold; all chipped paint and rusted metal, duct tape holding the bumper together, a dent in the passenger door from where your neighbor’s kids had kicked a ball into it last spring. There was a crack across the windshield from where a bird made friendly with it earlier in the year that sliced through your vision but didn’t impede you from driving. 

‘Character’ was the word you used to describe it, but it certainly wasn’t what everyone else usually chose. John obviously fell into the latter camp.

“Ye sure tha’ thing’s operable, lass?” He scrutinized every banged-up, well-worn inch of it, pulling a face at what he found lacking and raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Not sure I trust it ta get ya to point b without a few bumps and scrapes.”

You sighed at the familiar criticism, having heard much the same from your fathers. “It gets the job done. Still safer than walking around by myself anyways. I promise I wouldn’t drive it if I thought it’d get me killed one day.” Only a partial lie at least.

He was clearly unconvinced, but blessedly didn’t say anything further besides whatever mumbled remark he kept under his breath. Watching quietly while still keeping an eye on the surrounding area, he stayed near your side as you fumbled with the keys, grabbing the handle to hold it open as you tossed your bag on the passenger seat. “Right. In ya go then.”

You thought that would be the end of it as he closed the door behind you, buckling your fraying seat belt and hoping he was far enough away that you could safely attempt to start your car without any more judgment from him if this ended up being the one time it didn’t turn over.

You jumped slightly as his gloved hand tapped on the glass, turning your head to watch him motion for you to lower the window. Rolling the old school contraption down, you were again hit with a velvety shot of espresso as he half leaned in towards you, forearm resting against the top of your car.

“If ye think fer one minute tha’ I’m gonna jus’ up and forget about ye now tha’ we’re partin’ ways ye’ll be sorely disappointed lass. Tha’ there thing in yer purse’ll be ringin’ before ye ken it and I’m not afraid to come lookin’ if I dunnae get an answer.” 

The promise in his tone felt suspiciously like a threat, but one without any real intended consequence. His relaxed posture and sparkling irises assured you that while he’d probably still be cross if you ignored his attempts to reach out, you wouldn’t be awoken in the middle of the night to someone taking a battering ram to your flimsy front door.

At least, you hoped they wouldn’t.

Flashing you a playful wink, John took a step back from the vehicle. “Take care, omega. Be seein’ ya real soon.”

You’re shouting your name at him before you even realize what you’ve done, the small part of you that longs for a deeper connection clawing free from the part that fears having her heart shattered. From a few feet away you could still see the fireworks bursting in his eyes, the way he stands a little taller and puffs out his already broad chest with euphoria at your proffered olive branch. You can’t bring yourself to regret it when his unabashed smile conjures images you never dared hope for.

He waited until you rolled up your window and heard the telltale click of the locks on your doors engaging before finally taking off, crossing to the other side of the slippery street and walking with a hand tucked into his coat pocket until a line of cars finally blocked his retreating form from view. 

You sat there for a moment with your hands on the steering wheel, the silence in the vehicle more deafening than the wind howling outside. The past twenty minutes played like rewind on a VCR, speeding through the chain of events leading to the present to be watched again and again and again. 

After the fifth or sixth replay, all you could think of was rushing back to your apartment before fate could intervene once more and you accidentally run over your fourth scent match’s pekingese with your fucking car. 

<< ✿ Previous ✿ << ✽ >> ✿ Next ✿ >>

[ozzgin]

Monster kidnapper smut that's beneficial for the human: the king finally let's the servants in on *why* he's so fond of reader and lo and behold: the servants had bets on them and when they'll reveal the secret. At least of them had to know early on, right?

Or, alternatively;

Reader joins the monster king in on a meeting to discuss something dealig with war and reader teasing the king very subtly the whole time. Your pick

- 👁️👁️

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut, NSFW! (exhibitionism, fingering)

You’re not supposed to be here. The last thing he needed to worry about was his own men gawking at you, yet he had no choice: he would’ve otherwise been away for too long. He feared he might’ve returned to find you gone, troubled by another rescuing attempt, or snatched shamelessly by some other monster looking for a mate.

At least now he can keep you under his watchful gaze. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing that your safety is ensured, and that-

“What’s the circled area?” you ask the other monstrous officer, bending over the enormous desk in an attempt to reach the source of your curiosity.

Your beastly husband is immediately distracted by your posture. Are you messing with him right now? You can’t possibly be this oblivious. Your back is arched, pushing your bottom upwards. Whatever explanation his subordinate is currently providing you with is a mere blur against his ears, as his mind begins to wander. He can almost picture his large, clawed hand pinning you against the wooden surface, locking you in place as his other hand skillfully strips you of any clothing obstacles. His fingers trace your outline: you’re ready to be filled.

“Right, Sir?”

He coughs dryly and approaches the table, trying to sober up. Yes, it’s exactly as his inferior says. Whatever the hell that was. He was too busy folding you in half mentally.

“That makes sense”, you hum with feigned interest.

He knows that look. It’s the same innocent expression you make when your mouth is struggling to take him in, your small hands holding onto the base for support. He clicks his tongue, frustrated by your obvious attempts to tease him. He can feel the heat traveling downwards.

“Bring me the other documents, will you? They’re in the storage behind”, your husband demands, pointing at some furniture across. The officer scrambles to fulfill his order.

At the same time, your monster spouse marches towards the nearby sofa, nonchalantly pulling you after him. You can tell he’s upset and that he’s made up his mind. He pats the empty space next to him, and you hesitantly follow. Before you can sit, his hand swiftly cushions your landing. You gasp and squirm from the sudden intrusion, while his fingers fumble with your undergarments, searching for an opening.

“Oh, one thing I forgot to mention”, the officer remarks cheerfully, head buried in the paper clutter. He proceeds to narrate further explanations to your earlier discussion.

You can only nod quietly, biting your lips in a helpless struggle. How lewd, how outrageous! You tilt your head pleadingly, but the beast smirks back at you. You’re not getting out of this.

One finger is enough to noticeably stretch your entrance. You’ve no time to protest, nor to adjust to the foreign object currently inside you, as it begins pumping in and out.

“Ah!”

You slap a hand over your mouth. The subordinate returns with a stack of folders under his arm, chuckling at the sight. He never imagined his Lord to be the cuddly type, yet here he is, holding you in his embrace.

“No need to mock me, (Y/N). I know it wasn’t the most shocking fact.”

“Weren’t you very interested a moment ago?” your husband inquires with a wide grin, increasing his pace. “Ask him something else. Go on.”

[Monster Marriage] | [More Monsters]

[etfrin]

⤷❝Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, blood play , knife play, mentions of killing, somnophilia, pussy spanking, impact play (Coryo spanks your ass like twice), riding, mating press, overstimulation if you squint, squirting, dub-con if you squint, fucked up lovesick! reader, fucked up dark! Snow, predator/prey dynamics if you squint, degradation, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie | lmk if I forgot anything

⇢☾Pairing: Ghostface! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: You're trying to outrun Ghostface, you fail and find out that he's your bestie and your love Coriolanus Snow, smut ensues despite the circumstances

⇢☾A/N: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, read this ast your own risk, do not romanticize!

Ps: i love this, depending on the response/feedback I get, I might write more Ghostface! Coryo

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

‘Run, run, run’, your mind kept thinking, as the burn of pushing past the wind and all the halls made your legs go weak. You wanted to tear your ears off so you could mute all the screams that were echoing.

You didn't want to die. Fuck it. You're not gonna die.

One of the two Ghostfaces was chasing you, fast but slower than you. Something in your mind told you that they were playing with you. You were just a prey and the predator was being merciful by letting you live for the last time.

Alarms set off in your mind as you dash into an empty classroom, hoping that he will walk past it. You hide behind the door, praying to whoever is above for safety. Nobody listened.

The door to the classroom was opened and you knew it in your bones that you were doomed. That you had to fight, even if you're terrible at it. The creaking sound of the door sent shivers down your spine, your mind going haywire as heavy steps echoed into the empty.

“You can come out, baby,” he said, as he walked in without closing the door, “otherwise you won't get any kindness from me, bird.” The nicknames felt familiar to you but you pay it no mind. As he walks further into the classroom, you decide to slowly get out of your hiding spot to walk out of the door and take a run from it.

You can do it, can't you?

The answer was a no because even when you managed to take a step outside of the classroom, you were yanked back in, and thrown to the floor. The infamous Ghostface is in front of you with a shiny knife that makes your heart go wild but not in the right way. Fear and adrenaline fill your veins as you look around for any sort of weapon but to no avail.

“Don't you fucking come closer,” you snarl at them. “And what are you gonna do if I do, princess? I don't see a prince charming to protect you here,” he mocks you as he kneels, his hand playing around the with the knife in a rather enticing manner. Your eyes pinned on how he played with the knife around, your breath hitching as you could imagine it carving into your skin not to kill you but. . .

You possibly couldn't blame yourself for your thoughts. You knew you had kinks, but you never had a chance to indulge. Your exes were vanilla and you respected that, you never trusted anyone enough to indulge in your fantasies. Except for one person though by accident, he should be safe in his apartment right now.

Coryo. Coryo was safe, he wasn't aware the friend group was going to break into the academy. Coryo had to be safe. Even if you die at the hands of this stranger tonight, Coryo should be fine. He was never part of the main crew after all. His name from the elitists fell due to his wealth being nonexistent, all that existed in Snow was him and his wit. So there's no possible reason for him to be targeted. Coriolanus was safe.

“Cat caught your tongue, doll?” The masked man taunts you, the voice modulator, his knife inching towards your cheek, the blunt side pressing onto your skin. “Fuck off,” you spit out, trying to crawl away from him but you had no strength left. No fight left in you. Your legs hurt, you can't think, and the rest of your friends are fighting or worse dead.

Tears begin to fill your eyes as you begin to think about them. Last you saw Sajanus, he was getting stabbed, Lucy had run, and Tigris… She was one of the killers, you couldn't wrap your head around that. You looked at Ghostface, a pathetic part of wanting to plead for your life but your ego won out. You spit onto their mask. “Fuck you!” you yelled at them.

A growl sounding feral even through the voice modulator could be heard. Ghostface grabs your jaw with his free hand, “You should know better than to do that, pet,” he smirks. He flipped the knife, the sharp end now digging into your skin, cutting up the layer of the cheek so beads of blood would drag themselves onto the knife.

A small whine left you, but it wasn't out of pain. Your body was readily confusing danger with your desires and there's nothing your mind could do about it. Ghostface lets out a chuckle, “Freaky bitch.” His hand was still grabbing your jaw, your legs pushed down by the weight of his body, there was no way for you to fight (you didn't want to) as he used his knife to pop the buttons of your shirt one by one. Your skin, every inch of your torso and chest was exposed to him.

This should have filled ice in your veins, but fire burned instead, you should have yelled at him to stop, plead, anything instead you tried to nip the urge of rubbing your thighs together. Fuck, this turned you on to no end. The thrill. The danger. You were so tired of being good. So what if you end up dead, at least you'll get a good fuck out of this.

His knife begins to cut fine lines onto your skin, near your bra, dragging along the underside of your clothed breast. Red begins to paint across your skin. “Fuck,” you whispered when the knife dug too deeply near your left hip, a long cut that felt like he was carving out a letter. You take multiple deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at the edge. “Stop!” you whispered, “Just kill me, stop.” The murderer didn't reply.

Something felt eerily familiar about him, the way something was carved onto your skin. You sit up a bit, and he doesn't stop you and your eyes fall to the cut he had finished on your hip. A ‘C’. No, no, no, no.

“Coryo,” you groan, in pain and shock. Tigris being one of the killers, you suppose it made sense. But what assured you was the fact Snow was always marking you up, a finger tracing the letters of his name onto your hand, or the tip of a pen inking you with his initials onto your skin. This time he did it with a knife, something so permanent. It was such a Coryo thing to do.

A soft distorted laugh comes out through the mask before his hand lifts it. Coriolanus Snow with his manic blue eyes and a feral grin, his blonde locks disheveled for once greeted you. “You're going to enjoy this, doll,”

“You- I-” You couldn't form a single thought, how could you? Your Coryo (both of you were nothing, both of you were something. So close to being with each other forever but too afraid to jump that hill) was a murderer, he was going to kill you. A boy whom you watched for years grow up to be a man despite the circumstances, whom you had shared your first kiss with and who was your first love and the one who got away because of your cowardice was going to kill you. You were going to die by his hands. Poets would make it seem romantic, dying at the hands of your love seems like a mercy.

It wasn't.

Anybody but him, you didn't want your love to be tainted with this. You didn't want your blood to be on his hands, not on your Snow. “Anyone but you,” you whispered, “Coryo, no!” You flinch away when he leans in and a glare forms in his eyes. “I won't hurt you, doll. You're one of the good ones. You're my pet,” he whispered, his knife pressing onto the bleeding wound of your skin. “I have trained you so well after all,” he smirks.

“What- what do you mean?” You gasp out, your mind on the edge of your sanity. “You aren't afraid, you aren't screaming, you aren't crying and whining like a bitch like those other motherfuckers, are you?” He grins, “It's because your body knows that I won't hurt you. I have trained you to feel safe around me. I am your savior, doll.” He leans in closer, his hot breath hitting your lips with his every word, “You enjoyed the run. You enjoyed the chase. You don't care about dying, you want to be fucked. You didn't know it was me but I bet your slutty cunt is soaking through those panties anyway."

“Am I lying?” He whispered, “Tell me it's a lie, tell me you aren't wet, that you weren't enjoying this and I'll leave.” You couldn't bring yourself to lie, not when you were lost in those eyes. Is this why people say love ends you? It was a weapon that Coryo knew he held, an invisible dragger against your throat. “I-” You wanted to lie, you wanted too, you swear.

Instead, you close the pathetic excuse of a gap between his lips and yours. Your hands grab at his robe, pulling him in as you kiss feverishly. Like he was the air itself, you couldn't breathe, not when both your lips and your tongues meet. The moan you let out of the contact made you realize you had nothing left to yourself. Your mind, your soul, and your marked body belonged to him. The price for falling for the devil. A price you gladly paid.

He breaks the kiss with a gasp, his face in a boyish grin you have seen from childhood. “I knew it. You're mine, dove. Mine.” With that he licks a strip of nearly dried blood from your cheek, dragging his tongue onto your cut and letting out a moan from the taste of iron onto his tongue. Your taste. You whimper as he continues to lav at the blood covering your face, cleaning you up like a dog would.

His cold hands find their way to your back, playing with your bra clasp before finally freeing your breasts from their confines. He pulls back, throwing the knife far away from you both (did it matter? He would win in a fight anyway). His palms knead your breasts, as his needy lips keep pressing against yours.

“Is this real?” He asked, breathless. His fingers roll your nipples until they harden under his touch. You moan in response as your nipples keep getting teased, a sharp gasp leaves as he pinches the nipples hard. “Real or not real?”

“Real,” you whimper, “Real. Real. Real. Real. Coryo, I love you!” He lets out a growl as he hears your confession, his attention towards your breasts getting rougher as he drags his tongue across the canvas of your skin, his teeth marking you up wherever they pleased.

“Of course, you do, baby. I made it so,” he whispered, when his mouth meets your taut nipple, his lips wrapping themselves around the bud to suck as one of his hands was on your back and his opposite hand giving your breast rougher attention. Meanwhile, your hands had found their way into his robes, sliding them off so his shirt and his pants were in view. Your fingers immediately begin to unbutton his shirt to the best of their abilities, your mind not sure whether to focus on the task or the delicious heat of his mouth around your sensitive nub.

Coryo deciding to have mercy (he was sick of your uncoordinated hands, how pathetic you were) took it upon himself to undress while being on task. His lips left to find a home in the cuts he made all over his chest, the small cuts stinging from his licks. But the pain was delicious, could it be considered pain at all with how much you loved it? You suppose not. This was a pleasure, all pleasure given to you by a monster.

His toned muscles came into your view, your hands flying to his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulders causing him to hiss, he was down to your hips now. Near your mark, his initial carved so beautifully against your skin. He had to admire it, he had no choice but to.

“Such a pretty doll. My canvas, I can't wait to have you all to myself, am gonna mark you so nice,” his eyes meet yours. “You have no choice but to let me.”

He pressed a kiss to the deep cut, the blood from it made a mess on the floor. You suspected the only reason you were conscious was because of adrenaline alone. His lips are red with your blood pressed onto your lips, making you taste yourself. You moan, letting yourself be familiarized with the taste for the future.

Your hands find solace in his blonde locks as his hands unbutton your pants. “Let's see how slutty my pet is,” he whispered. He slides off your pants and underwear in one go, his fingers pressing into your heat, gathering the arousal onto his fingertips. He shakes his head, looking displeased (he was more than pleased inside, don't worry), “What a whore.” He pulls his fingers back and strings of your arousal follow. Then smack, smack, smack. Three slaps were delivered to your pussy making you jolt and moan wantonly. Your eyes widen and your cunt begins to ache, reddening from his actions, your clit puffing up and twitching, needing more.

“Please,” you plead, your voice weak, your vision blurry, you need to feel him inside before you black out. “Please, please, Coryo, baby,” you begin to babble, your mind a mess. You feel a kiss on your forehead. “Let go, dove,” he whispered, “I'm gonna keep you safe.”

You wanted to laugh at his words. His actions were the opposite of safe. It was anything but. However, your body had relaxed in his hold, your mind blanking out.

Your mind comes back to reality after hours. You open your eyes to meet pitch black, your body not on the hard cold floor of the academy classroom but on something soft. A bed. “Coryo,” you called, your voice filled with fear.

“Coryo,” you whispered again, turning your body to meet with another warm body. Coryo.

You let out a sigh of relief, and the pain of the incident now settled into your bones, like a distant buzz. You nuzzle into Coriolanus' chest, one of your arms around him. You realize both of you were naked. Completely utterly bare, skin on skin. Your breath hitches, feeling the heat coursing through your body again as you feel his soft cock onto your thigh, so fucking close to your cunt.

You bite your lip in thought, you want to know what happened after you lost consciousness. Were all your friends dead? Did they escape? Did they find out? You also wanted his cock, impatient because you waited for years, and despite the circumstances you knew when to seize opportunities.

Coryo was a heavy sleeper, it was like he slept with the weight of everything on his shoulder. Weight of his world at least. Plus he would like a treat, right? A man as insane as he is, he wouldn't mind your actions even if it solidifies his opinion of you being an whore for him.

Your fingers trace his chest, your palm feeling his heartbeat, your heavy breaths and his quiet ones fill the room. You take your palm and lick it, lubricating it before you grip his length. Your strokes were hesitant, your mind afraid that he would break up and he would be mad. But you feel his cock harden and you love it. You fucking love it. Your pussy gets wet as time goes by and his cock completely hardens.

You take his cockhead and slowly begin to slide it against your pussy lips. A soft moan escapes you as the tip nudges your sensitive clit. Your slick was coated all over his length as you kept grinding against his cock. And soon enough after a particular nudge, his cockhead gets caught in your entrance. It could have easily been pushed away and you could have continued with your actions. But you are pathetically needy and this was not enough.

A whimper escapes your lips as you begin to guide your hips forward to let the cock inside your cunt, stretching out your walls perfectly. You let out a gasp when he was fully in. His cock twitching inside of you. Now was the hard part, fucking yourself onto his cock without him waking up. Impossible but you didn't care at the moment.

You slowly started to roll your hips, taking his length deep inside of you, your walls squeezing around him. You let out soft moans, trying your best to control the animalistic need to ride his cock. Time passes and this continues, the ache of your cunt not fading but getting worse and worse with the need to cum. The pace wasn't enough, no matter how many ways you rubbed your clit raw wasn't enough.

Deciding to play with the devil, you pushed Coryo's sleeping body onto his back, your pussy holding onto his cock as you straddle him. The angle made it so his cockhead kissed your g-spot making you gasp as stars flood your vision, but it didn't trigger your orgasm, your walls oversensitive but throbbing to cum, cum, cum.

You wanted to wake up Snow, wanted him to fuck you, use you, and love you. But you decided against it as you begin to grind your hips, your swollen clit pressing onto his groomed pubic hair, the sensation making you bite your lower lip to stop a loud moan that would surely wake him up.

You couldn't keep up with this long, you wanted to cum, wanted to be filled with his cum as well. You begin to go faster, letting all sense of control out of the window as you slam down his cock again and again, letting his tip nearly breach your cervix.

Smack.

The sound of his hand meeting the meat of your ass freezes you. The area victim of his hit was reddening. “Why did you stop?” He voices, his tone filled with lust “Ride me, bitch. How needy were you that you couldn't wait, huh? Disgusting, truly. I need to train you better, pet.”

An apology remains to be said as his hand slaps your ass again. “Fuck yourself on me, doll,” he grunts, his tone reeking of impatiently. “Co-coryo,” you whine, your hips finding their rhythm but this time with Coriolanus thrusting upwards into your cunt, disrupting your pace. But neither of you cared, both of your actions borderlining to those of mating animals under a full moon.

His hands hold you down, gripping your hips tightly with his fingers printing onto your skin. It puts pressure on your previous wound, making you cry out and tighten your pussy around him reflexively. You wonder if your wound began to bleed again because the smell of blood began to stink in the air along with the distinct smell of sex.

Your thoughts were proven correct as one of his hands left your hip in favor of licking his palm on which your wound had bled. His thrusts turn frantic as the taste of iron blooms onto his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, Coryo!” You begin to moan, louder and louder as heat begins to coil up on your lower tummy. Your gummy walls get slicker and slicker as your sensitive nerves go overdrive with his thrusts.

He lets out a groan, and in a flash, you are on your back onto the mattress, pressed into it as his mouth latches onto your jaw. His hips rutted into you without a care. “You taste so fucking delicious, I bet your cunt tastes wonderous too, princess,” he moans as his teeth begin to bite into the flesh of your neck, his erratic pace bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hands find themselves on his back, your nails scratching his skin and forming red lines which sting but he loves it so much. So fucking much. His hands pushed your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest. He has you folded onto a mating press position. His cock reaching impossible depths inside of you.

A particular thrust of his made his cock fuck into your cervix, it makes you scream from the pleasure and pain of all, your body finally letting go. Your cunt spasming, milking his cock for what it's worth as clear liquid squirted out of you, covering Coryo who merely groans from it all.

He fucks you through your orgasm, his cock hitting all the right angles and as your pussy tightens around his cock just right. He cums, deep and nice into your womb. He continues to roll his hips into you, his pace slowing down as he fucks his hot, thick cum into you.

He lets out a shuddering breath as he pulls out and lays beside you. Both of catching your breaths. He breaks the silence first.

“I am going to tell you everything, doll but let me clean up the wound first.”

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @dollfacedalls

[trulyumai]

soon to be heir

—pairing: emperor Geta / empress! reader

synopsis: word of your pregnancy spread fast. Geta had to act even quicker to ensure your safety.

warnings: talk of violence, short tempers, grabbing. geta tries to be soft.

a/n: this was very heavily requested, enjoy everyone!

The news spread like wildfire.

‘Empress with a soon to be heir!’ For the gods, your own servants whispered about it.

It was true, of course. How could it not be, for Geta would make sure to fill you almost every night. Inching his fingers to touch below and shove the remainder of his seed into your wet mound.

He had planned for this. Dreamed of it.

Of you swole with his child; all his own doing. You didn’t, or hadn’t, planned on becoming a mother this early into his reign. But life was funny that way. Life and a certain ginger haired emperor.

You sat now, swelled next to the man during dinner time. It was unfortunate on the servants really, to abide by all your silly cravings. grapes here, jackfruits there and oh! Don’t forget about the sweet bread. Did I mention the berry spread?

“Wife,” Geta’s voice drew you from your thoughts. A hand, warm and callous placed itself upon your tummy. “Would you be receiving anything else?” He was ever so doting on you now. His eyes even held a bit of love to them from time to time.

“Ahm,” thinking you tried to place the current craving at command. But with a newfound shyness and tinge of embarrassment, you decided against it. “It’s— it’s nothing, dear husband.”

Almost immediately, Geta sensed the lie. And oh, how he hated those.

For gods sake, half of the palace lay in waste for the rumor of there being a rat, so for the audacity you displayed? It was dangerous.

He squinted and with the same arm, draped it across your shoulders, pinning your shorter body to his. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, little wife, would you?” A fire sprung up inside your body. Automatically, fight or flight seemed to be kicking in.

“It’s just a small thing. Not even worth mentioning really,” spit had gathered in your mouth incessantly out of fear. Gulping it down, the emperor leaned in further, until his nose brushed against yours.

If it were any other man, you would have called him pretty.

If it were any other man, you would have danced kisses upon his cheeks, his eyelids.

But it was Geta.

So you just watched, holding back a whimper as he applied more pressure with his hand upon your back.

Wordlessly, you knew what he wanted. He had become so infatuated with your wanton needs lately.

Oh, a bath? He’ll start it.

Those rare flowers by the bay? He’ll send word for them.

What’s that, that man is staring little too long? Beheading it is!

The last one was on his account, Geta had the man seized while you woddled back to the chambers, unaware of the whole predicament until your faithful servants informed you.

Geta had lobbed his head off right in the middle of the throne room. Screaming on about loyalty, fealty. What was his.

Geta’s fingers slowly perched there way below your chin, mulling you out of the violent place you put yourself in.

“Well?” The man wasn’t known for his patience, and you were surprised he lasted this long already.

“It’s… honey bread.” The emperor had to stifle his laughter. To hear and worry over such a dumbfounded thing.

“Honey bread.” He repeated, already raising his palm to signal for the chef.

“It shall be done, my wife.”

“It’s not necessary—

“It shall be done.” That was the end of it, you supposed.

Slowly, cautiously you sat up, legs already shaking with the added pressure.

Geta’s hands lay tensed and ready, just in case he needed to grab or hold you.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed this. Wanting to grant the man his sought out intention of protection, you reached out and cradled his hand in your own.

“Walk me back to our room?” And with a look as pathetic as that, how could the man say no.

He stood with you, and automatically, the servants in the room bowed their heads.

Fearful to take a glimpse of you and it be mistaken for something else.

Fearful to lay eyes upon the gruesome emperor with the short temper.

Now, with his big palm splayed out on your lower back, you began your stroll. Leaning into his soft robes your eyes shut. Geta had no problem taking the lead, holding onto your body with desperation and dare he say, infatuation.

[blkkizzat]

ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere. 

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy. 

One measly bar. 

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well. 

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts. 

Sigh. 

You had never wanted to be That Girl™. 

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating. 

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear. 

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.  

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details. 

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.  

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that. 

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted. 

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you. 

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking. 

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out. 

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts. 

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi. 

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question: 

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust? 

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché. 

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?” 

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something. 

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night. 

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area. 

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back. 

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji. 

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.”                                                                                                                                  Toji’s voice rang in your mind. 

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again. 

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.  

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass. 

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though. 

Fuck. 

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had. 

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home. 

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym. 

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts. 

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries. 

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you. 

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward. 

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders. 

“Fuck you, Toji.” 

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now. 

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him. 

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner. 

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls. 

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way. 

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward. 

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough. 

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance. 

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves. 

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws. 

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses. 

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before. 

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving. 

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase. 

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward. 

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support. 

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you. 

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air. 

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way. 

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea. 

But ultimately this was all your fault. 

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi. 

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs. 

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body. 

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles. 

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber. 

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being– 

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete. 

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity. 

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force. 

“T-T-Toji?” 

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs. 

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?” 

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear. 

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations. 

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now. 

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon. 

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you? 

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter. 

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut. 

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!” 

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing. 

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…” 

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure. 

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you. 

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl. 

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place. 

The pressure had officially gotten to you. 

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped. 

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well. 

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

[crushmeeren]

࿐ megumi’s turn! dabi’s version can be found here. again, this is short and sweet so I could focus on editing, but I hope the pacing wasn’t too fast. it’s also softer than I intended it to be, soooooooooo enjoy. :D

⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere (ish?) vibes.

⇢ ⇢ megumi art by saucy britt ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing an oni mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as delusional about him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Whenever someone asks you “hey, what do you love about Megumi?”, well, a plethora of amazing things fill your mind. You could, and would, write love poems about that man for days.

But, there are two quirks of his that you love to mention.

First off, Megumi is truly horrendous at keeping secrets. His apathetic attitude may not broadcast that, but he’s a gossip. Only those closest to him know that it’s his guilty pleasure.

Secondly, if you looked up the definition of obsessive personality, Megumi’s pretty face would be pictured there.

You’re not complaining, no, you’re so in love with your boyfriend it makes you sick. It’s just, for as long as you’ve known him, he’s never had the ability to keep a secret. Not even to save his life. You’re privy to much more restricted info involving Yuuji and Gojo than you ever thought you’d be.

To piggyback off that, he’s also constantly worrying about your safety. He checks in on you often, and he gets this stormy expression whenever you refuse to take his concern as seriously as he wants.

The pathway to and from your work is all but seared into your brain. You’ve walked it alone so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. So you’re not quite understanding why now, of all times, Megumi has deemed it unsafe. You’ve remained unscathed thus far.

And that’s why, when your sweet, obsessive boyfriend began stalking you on your way home from work late at night in an Oni mask and hoodie to cover his hair, you felt…. flattered. Were you creeped out? No. Should you have been? Probably. There’s no denying that the thrill of it gets your blood rushing, and the adrenaline high gives you goosebumps. You enjoy it, for lack of a better word.

Megumi, you assume, is more than likely trying to make a point. As misguided as it may be. When you first saw the masked man the night after yet another argument, you reasoned it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. At that time there was no proof connecting him to Megumi, but you had your suspicions.

When he asked about your walk home that very night, his forced nonchalance raised a red flag for you. Still, you didn’t mention you thought it was him. You did however snuggle close to him and rant about “your stalker”, begging him to protect you. Megumi sure as hell resembled a self satisfied cat when you did.

Afterwards, Megumi ended up pinning you to the bed with your knees touching your ears, whispering about how he’ll kill anyone who touches you. Now he does that each time you mention seeing “the stalker”, on your way home. A win - win, truly.

Granted, you were still wary about whether it really was him or not for the first few incidents. Then he made the mistake of hiding just around the corner of the alley you frequently pass and you caught a whiff of his extremely familiar cologne.

Not to mention you found the exact same Oni mask peaking out from under his bed a few days later. It looked as though he shoved it underneath in a frenzy, confident that it would suffice as a hiding place.

It didn’t.

You pretended you hadn’t seen it, waiting until Megumi went to get snacks from the kitchen before casually kicking it further under the bed and out of sight.

Safe to say, you’ve been allowing this to go on for much longer than you should have. It’s been almost an entire month. You’re curious to know if Megumi has any hunches that you’re aware it’s him, if only because you haven’t mentioned hide nor hair of filing a police report about it. Which would be the next logical step that any sane person would take.

In the back of your mind, you distantly wonder if you should be concerned that Megumi is so obsessed with you that he’s willing to go to such lengths to push you further into his arms.

You end up shrugging it off because you can’t judge him too harshly. You probably would’ve ended up doing something similar sooner or later if he hadn’t beaten you to the punch.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Things come to head one night as you’re heading home.

The moon is bright, the stars are beautiful, but it does absolutely nothing to tame the trail of fire you’re leaving in your wake.

Work had been… enraging, to say the least. Your insufferable coworker had been on shift with you, and you’d seriously rather shove bamboo shoots under your nails than work with them.

They’re selfish, incompetent, a pick me, and you can’t fathom why your management keeps them on staff. Those motherfuckers.

After you had angrily tugged your coat on and gathered your things, you stormed out the door after having a rather heated conversation with your manager. You hadn’t checked your phone all night, and it completely slipped your mind to text Megumi when you left, as you usually did.

About halfway through your fuming journey the light of the street lamps bounce off of something shiny and it catches your eye. Your heart beat falters, head snapping towards the alleyway only to see a figure lurking in the shadows. Peering straight at you. The person is clothed in all black, hoodie securing their hair, but once you spy the Oni mask, you realize it’s Megumi. Again.

You roll your eyes, your only recently fading irritation sparking back to life. You exhale harshly through your nose, stuffing your hands further into your pockets and speed up. You are not in the mood to deal with this. The distance sound of sneakers scuffing the sidewalk as someone walks briskly has your fingers balling into fists.

Normally, the cold blooded thrill of being stalked switches your adrenaline into lust, leaving you drooling for Megumi by the time you get home. But currently it’s twisting into something ugly. The sensation of eyes constantly being locked on you has you desperately wanting to crawl out of your skin. It’s overwhelming, and not in a good way.

You speed up once more, jaw tightening to the point that your teeth may crack when Megumi matches your pace. You’re this close to breaking out into a jog as you turn the last corner to your block, but your ears start to twitch at the sudden absence of footsteps.

You whirl around ready to give your boyfriend a piece of your mind, but you freeze when you realize he’s gone. You grind your teeth in irritation because he obviously slipped away without you noticing. Clicking your tongue behind your teeth, you practically stomp past the last few houses toward your shared home.

Megumi better be ready to argue when he shows up.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

As soon as you get home you toss your stuff carelessly onto your bed and return back to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, you sit stiffly, shoulders tense as you perch yourself on the edge.

A part of your brain scolds you, telling you that your boyfriend doesn’t necessarily deserve all the built up rage from the day. Megumi isn’t innocent though, and he does play a part in the chaotic mess you’ve created, so it’s obvious you need to talk to him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Megumi to show his face. The door creaks as it opens and closes, your palms starting to sweat the closer he gets. Megumi calls out to you in greeting, but the silence is deafening when you don’t bother to reply.

Megumi rounds the couch and freezes when he eyes your tense posture. His face is carefully blank, eyes flitting over your figure as he gingerly sits down next to you. You barely spare him a glance, Megumi’s brows pinching in concern as you return your stare to the TV in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is apprehensive as he rests a large palm on your knee, slender fingers squeezing reassuringly. You stiffen under the touch, unable to stop yourself from glaring hotly at him.

“Why the fuck have you been following me?” Your tone drips with venom, the slightest bit of guilt brewing when Megumi’s head jerks back as if you slapped him, lips parting and eyes widening.

Okay, so you definitely didn’t plan to get to straight into it, but evidently you can’t hold your tongue.

“That’s not, I mean —,” he starts to fumble over his words as he tries to come up with something convincing. His fingers dig into your knee and you sneer slightly, shifting to grip his wrist so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Megumi,” you warn. “I know you’ve been following me. I found the Oni mask under your bed. Tell me why. Now,” you stress the last word and lock your heated gaze with his. His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face as he stays stiff for an ungodly amount of time. Just as the silence is becoming unbearable he wilts in his seat, sighing as his chin touches his chest.

Some of your fury fades when he lifts his head and looks at you with such sad eyes, a small frown on his mouth. Your hold on his bony wrist loosens considerably.

“I just,” he pauses, pursing his lips as he searches for the right words. “You make me feel, okay? Too much sometimes, and I get worried about your safety. I wanted you to see how dangerous it can be for you to be out there alone. I need you to need me, the same way I need you...” he mutters, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he averts his gaze.

All the fight drains out of you, chest welling up with a warmth so intense it burns the tips of your ears.

“Gumi,” you say softly, moving to tenderly cradle the side of his jaw. He leans into it, eyes hopeful as he reaches up to place his hand over yours. “I do need you. You’re the only one I trust to protect me. You didn’t have to stalk me to get your point across,” you say with slight amusement, resting your forehead on his.

Megumi sighs softly, lids lowering. “I wasn’t going to keep it up at first, but then… I started to like the thrill of hunting you down,” he admits, sparking the tension between you. The warmth in your belly turns you gooey as you process his confession.

You hesitate before answering shyly. “I…liked it too.” Megumi’s expression shifts into something more humorous, a faint smirk quirking his lips.

“Oh?” He teases. You bite your lower lip, trailing your fingers feather light down the side of his throat and his breath hitches.

“Yeah,” you whisper, catching Megumi staring at your mouth with a dark hunger. He smoothes his hand up to your inner thigh, inching his face even further into your personal bubble.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You moan lowly, tilting your head to get the perfect angle. Soft lips meet yours slowly, repeatedly, and the slick noise of it makes your pussy ache to be stretched by his cock.

You make out with your boyfriend until you’re seriously debating crawling into his lap and riding him right here on the couch. Delicately, you place your hands on his chest, the soft t-shirt brushing your palms, and you push to break the kiss.

“Go get the mask, Megumi.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s a rush to see who can get naked first.

Your clothes, and Megumi’s, are scattered along the floor of your bedroom. Megumi had eagerly pulled the mask from his back pack, and now you’re in bed spread out on your back, watching Megumi with bated breath as he slips it on.

Megumi has settled on his haunches between your thighs, adjusting the mask until it fits comfortably and covers his entire face. You have to bite your knuckles as he looms over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head while you stare up at him with stars in your eyes.

You’d practically begged him to make it rough, not wanting much, if any at all, foreplay involved.

You gently run your hands down the soft skin of Megumi’s taut stomach, fingers brushing over the thin patch of dark hair that leads to his cock. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, the decent weight of it against your palm turning you on just that much more. His hips twitch involuntarily when you squeeze playfully, slowly stroking as he moans your name.

Too soon he’s snatches your wrist away, causing you to pout up at him. He shakes his head and tugs your hand away from his dick.

“Turn over baby,” Megumi instructs, backing off enough to allow you to wiggle and shift freely until you’re flat on your belly. Your cheek squishes into the mattress, hands resting by your head, and your blood starts to sing when Megumi straddles the backs of your thighs.

The tingling sensation in your fingertips reminds you of the first time you had sex with Megumi, and it’s as if you’re experiencing that night all over again.

Your stomach clenches when a hard cock suddenly nestles against the swell of your ass. The smooth, warm skin dragging back and forth as Megumi rolls his hips for the friction.

“Are you gonna fuck me like this?” You ask excitedly. A sharp swat on the ass is your answer, a startled gasp ringing out as you fist the blanket.

“I never said you were allowed to speak. Bite your tongue unless I tell you otherwise, whore,” Megumi says coldly, spanking you once more to get his point across. You capture the tip of your tongue between your teeth and nod vigorously, your skin already warm to the touch and swelling.

The insult has your cheeks on fire from the inherent shame, but it feels incredible. Besides, you know he’ll be calling you a good girl soon enough.

Megumi shuffles down, rising up to his knees as he uses a thumb to spread your pussy open. It’s a slow press as he tries to work his cock inside you. His tip’s on the edge of popping in but then he slips, sliding down and bumping your clit instead. The jolt of sweet pleasure startles you, causing you to shove your face into the blanket and moan.

“Sorry,” Megumi snickers, but the bastard doesn’t carry an ounce of remorse in his voice.

He readjusts his angle, lining up his cock a bit better and then he’s sinking a quarter of the way into your tight pussy. It burns, you’re nowhere near wet enough to take him, and you think you could cum from the sensation alone.

He rocks his hips and steadily inches himself the rest of the way inside, using rolling motions until he’s pushed in to the hilt. Megumi decides to stay there, cock jerking and applying firm pressure to your cervix.

You hiss on your next inhale, a stab of pain making itself known. The feeling blends with the pleasure of being stretched so well and your pussy flutters involuntarily. Megumi gasps softly, supporting his weight with palms pushing against your upper back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight like this. You were made to take my cock,” Megumi praises, voice rising in pitch when you wiggle underneath him. You whine quietly in agreement, remembering to stay silent, and an approving hum comes from behind you.

Megumi looms over your back, fingers closing around your wrists to effectively pin you to the bed. He draws his hips back and snaps them forward powerfully, pelvis smacking loudly against your ass.

He builds up to a rough pace, the unyielding grasp on your wrist has your fingers going numb. Your boyfriend mercilessly pounds you into the mattress, cock pushing so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You cry out endlessly as overwhelming pleasure swells behind your bellybutton. You struggle to get free, but Megumi doesn’t allow you to budge.

If Megumi is making any noise, you can’t hear it over your own cries. Well, except for the few husky moans that spill unabashedly from his mouth before he can stop them. When you start to cum you shout his name so harshly into the sheets that it wrecks your voice. Your boyfriend curses hotly, slipping his cock free completely and flipping you onto your back before you can blink.

He pushes one thigh to your chest and shoves his cock back into you, his other hand latching around your throat as he leans in close.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking without permission?Are you deaf?” He snarls, the angry, distorted expression of the Oni mask becoming much more threatening in your fucked out state.

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, both hands flying to grip his forearm.

Megumi clicks this tongue and squeezes hard briefly before shaking himself free of your hold.

“You’re sorry?” He sneers, pressing his palm to your face and covering the entirety of your mouth and nose. He completely cuts off your air and your eyes go wide, a burst of panic building in your chest. You can’t fucking breathe. “I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to me. If you don’t want to pass out baby, you better cum on cock before you run out of air.”

You fist the sheets until you’re sure they’ll rip, eyes rolling back as Megumi fucks you into the mattress. The intensity of the situation and lack of oxygen fills your brain with molasses, ears ringing as your sole focus remains on cumming.

Mercifully, your pleasure starts to crest and peak into that familiar edge, the one that’s similar to the anticipation right before the big drop on a roller coaster. The smooth glide of Megumi’s cock continuously splitting you is more than enough to dangle you over the edge.

Your chest starts to heave, lungs burning as no air makes it way inside. You fumble with Megumi’s wrist, tugging desperately, but he whispers muffled encouragement through the covered mouth of the mask.

“C’mon, you can do it baby. You’re almost there, I can feel it. You’re such a good girl. Make that sweet pussy cum for me and I’ll let you breathe.”

The backs of your eyes start to sting, heart thumping so hard it pulsates throughout your entire body. Your vision swims and your thighs tense, Megumi’s nails biting into the sensitive skin on the underside of your thigh. White hot pleasure suddenly crashes into you, flowing like warm honey. The base of your skull digs into the mattress as you cum with a muffled scream.

Megumi immediately frees you and you gasp loudly, throat like sandpaper as you swallow oxygen the same way you drink water. The sensation of air filling your lungs drags your orgasm out ten fold and you start to push at Megumi’s chest when it gets overwhelming.

“Megumi,” you all but sob, pleading as you stare up at him with glazed eyes. He drops your thigh as he sits up, slipping his cock free with a hoarse groan as he strokes himself quickly. His lean body sags with relief as he cums, streaking your pussy and stomach with white.

He lets go of his still twitching cock, tip leaking pitifully onto the blankets, and pushes the mask off to throw it haphazardly aside. He pants harshly, cheeks scarlet as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair to keep it from sticking to his forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to regain your bearings. You’re sure a headache is on the horizon as you rub your eyes with your knuckles.

The air in your room is humid and stuffy, the only noise being you and Megumi trying to catch your breath. Your boyfriend eventually slides off the bed to find his discarded shirt from earlier. You stay limp as he helps get you clean, Megumi opting to crawl up beside you and lay on his stomach afterwards.

He twists his head towards you and you mirror his position. Your entire being feels like jelly and you sigh contentedly when Megumi rubs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“Are you alright?” Your voice is scratchy as the adrenaline wears off and sleep starts to seep into your limbs.

Megumi snorts. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who’s half asleep.”

You punch his shoulder halfheartedly and he laughs. “Whatever, can we go to bed now?”

“As long as you promise to take my concerns more seriously.”

“Fine, only if you promise not to stalk me through the streets like a lunatic.” Your eyes drift shut as you speak.

Megumi huffs. “Deal.”

“Keep the mask though, gumi.” You crack open an eyelid to smile playfully at him. Megumi lets out a startled laugh, but he agrees not to throw it away. He snuggles in close and kisses the side of your cheek several times.

[milfsiril]

symptomatic

kabru x reader; one shot

word count: 10k~

tw: adult audiences only, pet names, sex pollen, overstimulation, no pronouns but mentions of breasts and vagina, mild breeding kink if you squint

*—*

His breath tickles against your skin as he presses his face into your shoulder, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s purposely trying to tease you. Scratch that; he definitely is. He hums, his voice honeyed and low. “Don’t move,” he groans, his grip on you solid.

Although your party had recognized that you were all underprepared, you still made the mistake of rushing into the lower levels of the dungeon, despite how ill-advised it was.

Kabru was aware it was partially his fault; he had been too reckless, impatiently pushing everyone on despite the looks of uncertainty.

That’s what led to this very moment: Kabru clinging to you as if being apart physically hurt him, soft noises of protest spilling from his lips any time you shifted.

They had fallen and been revived many times, yet he had insisted on pushing further. This had led to him being snared by a plant monster and coming away coughing and wheezing as the pollen penetrated his sensitive membranes. Healing spells had proven ineffective, and despite the others’ voices of concern, he had waved them off, convincing himself he could push through any ill effects.

He had managed to stave off the symptoms of the pollen for long enough, but one night, as you had retired to the fireside, you commented about how he seemed more worn down than usual. You had raised your eyebrows in concern when you went to check his temperature and he had instead nuzzled against your palm.

Your party had left the dungeon, ignoring Kabru’s protests, and had holed him up in an inn so he could recover with no disturbances. You had agreed to stay with him, yet it didn’t explain why he was now curled around you, his fingers wrapped in the material of your shirt.

He whines quietly, pressing his face against you almost as if he was trying to hide. “Mm sorry,” he apologizes, his lips grazing the skin exposed by your shirt neckline. He rests his weight on you when you move, trying subconsciously to hold you down and prevent you from leaving.

Despite your prior relationship and his smooth talking ways, his pleas this time seem genuine as he begs you, “Please stay with me.”

You sigh heavily, stopping yourself from moving. You had originally joined his party because he was the only person you could find who would agree to take you. You worked as a member of a dungeoners safety and health organization, and had been required to go to the field (or the dungeon rather) to directly document health and safety violations.

Since most adventurers at best found an untrained person a burden and at worst were actively creating health and safety violations, it was difficult to find someone to take you with them. Luckily, Kabru’s party had needed the coin (or unluckily you supposed).

Kabru had also gone on a tangent about “protecting the rights of humanity” at the time, and winked at you, to which you had shuddered in disgust. The two of you were definitely at odds, and didn’t see eye to eye. You found him arrogant and narcissistic and he found you stuffy and nagging.

You two had argued often, and you had scolded him for not being careful many times, but still were the first to notice he was being affected. Now, you were here, nearly pinned under him as the rest of the party had gone to the next town over in search of a doctor who could remedy magical maladies.

He's.. a lot quieter now than he was before, not that you were complaining about that. If anything, you welcomed the temporary respite from the constant witty remarks and sarcastic quips that would spew from him on a daily basis.

His hand moves to thread through your hair, and he buries his face against your neck once again, inhaling deeply before letting out a breath that's almost akin to a sigh of relief.

He's so, so close to you. You can feel his chest rise and fall against your own, and you idly wonder if he's aware of just how hard his heart is beating.

You chew your lip, highly uncomfortable but willing yourself to be still for his sake. It’s not like he could help it at the moment, and it was your job to ensure adventurer safety technically, so you were the best to monitor him while the others went for help. His breath against your neck tickles, and you squirm a little. “This is… helping?”

As you squirm, he makes a low growl into your neck, almost like a warning not to move away. When he speaks, it's in a low murmur against your collar. "Stop moving. You're making it worse. Yes, it's helping, please. Just--" His grip on your shirt tightens, and he's suddenly moving to bury his face into your shoulder with a strangled moan of frustration and irritation. "Just let me breathe you in, for god's sake. You're not close enough."

You stiffen again, your body betraying you. While Kabru had certainly been an irritant for you, you felt terrible that he was so affected, and also.. had not been this close to someone in a very long time. You bring your hand up, petting his head awkwardly in what you hoped to be a comforting manner. He whined again in protest at your movement, and you hummed at him. “I have to move a little to make you as comfortable as possible… I’m sorry…” Gods, why does this have to feel so good?

He practically whimpers when you start to run your hands through his hair, his grip on your shirt lessening in order to hold onto your hip instead. His other hand finds its way to your side, fingers splayed out against your hip as if afraid that you might suddenly try to leave.

"It's-- It's fine," he says through gritted teeth, his voice cracking a little near the end as he tries to collect himself. "Just.. Just don't go too far. Please."

You bite your lip as he clings to you, his grip nearly bruising as he presses your body against his. “I won’t. I’m here.” You whisper as you keep petting his head. He seemed to react well to it. You allow your fingers to card through his hair in order to soothe him.

It's both a relief and a torture that you're indulging him. There's no other way he can satisfy this overwhelming need to hold and touch and make sure that you were here and real, and it's also torture because it makes it all the harder to keep any sort of coherent train of thought.

With how your fingers are running through his hair, he feels like he's losing his goddamn mind. He can practically hear the blood rushing in his ears if he tries to concentrate hard enough, and he leans into your touch.

You bite your lip even harder, drawing blood as you hear him practically purr, simultaneously trying to shove his face into your shoulder and push back into your hand at the same time.

Gods, you're going to drive him insane like this. He's completely unraveling under your hands, and it's.. it's so hard to think straight. He wants to push farther, wants more, but a part of him restrains himself from doing more than just bury his face against your shoulder and grip at your hip and side. He's already doing more than enough with how he's pinning you down like this.

Feeling more assured that this is helping, yet feeling bad that you’re even touching him in such a state, you shut your eyes, bringing your other hand up to rub up and down his back gently. “I’m sorry.” You whisper again, leaving the rest of that sentence unspoken. For him feeling like this? For touching him? For the inappropriate thoughts gracing your mind? You weren’t sure which.

No, no, he's enjoying the way you're rubbing up and down his back, the way your fingers comb through his hair. He's enjoying the way you're letting him hold you like this, indulging him so that the damned pollen can run its course through his systems. He's enjoying having your body flush against his, how your touch radiates through his clothes so that he can feel it against his skin. "Mmn... Don't apologize. Just.. gods, don't stop."

You nod, your cheek brushing his head as you do. Your fingers scratch his scalp, the other hands draw soothing circles against his back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and you look down at his curly head of hair rubbing against you. “You’re so warm...”

He practically writhes under the combined effect of the pollen and your touch. Your fingers scratch at his scalp and the back of his shoulders, and the circles you make against his back only make shivers run up his spine. He lets out another shuddery breath, and you can practically feel his body try to press up against your own even more than it already is. His shirt is sticking to his skin, mostly drenched with sweat now. "’m not, you’re too cool..."

You pause for a moment but continue stroking him when he whines, “Does that… does the coolness of my skin feel good?”

"M-mn-- yeah," he admits without hesitation, his words slightly muffled from where his face is tucked against your shoulder. "Your hands are cold, they-- gods, that feels good."

He lets out a shaky breath, and you feel his fingers dig into your hip, so hard that it's almost painful.

You take a deep breath, unsure if it’s a good idea or not, but the words tumble out of your mouth anyway. “Do you want to take off your shirt? It might help…”

His fingers freeze for a moment, and you can practically hear him swallow in an effort to respond. That request shouldn't have affected him so much, but he can already feel the heat rushing up his neck.

"... Yes," he finally manages to say, his voice hoarse. "Y-yes."

He sits up for a moment to take his shirt off, practically flinging it to the ground before he's back on you again, now with his bare chest flush against your own.

You grimace, though you still have your own shirt on, with less of a barrier you can feel how warm and damp he is. You return your hands to him, the heat of his back against the coolness of your hand. You rub your hand up and down, and grit your teeth at feeling his sinewy muscles twitch under your fingertips.

Why is the contrasting temperature difference between your body and his making him feel so sensitive? It's making him feel lightheaded with how your hand feels so good against his skin.

Almost on instinct, his hips grind against yours, seeking even more contact and friction. "Mmn.." he moans, his voice cracking into a ragged gasp.

You freeze, your eyes widening as you feel his hips move, grinding down against your thigh. “Ka-Kabru…”

He feels his heartbeat quicken at your reaction, and suddenly he's all too aware of how his body is moving against your own. How his hips are grinding, seeking more of that friction and contact that feels so good.

"Nggh don't-- Don't freeze up on me now." He tries to warn, but it comes out as a low, almost ragged plea. "Please don't, don't stop-- please."

His hips continue to move, and you bring both hands up to grab his cheeks. He nuzzles into your palms, his eyes hazy and face flushed. “Kabru… I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, you know this magic is affecting you, and you’re not in your mind right now…”

He's so gone with the effect of the pollen, and your words almost seem to hang in the air for a moment with how he's too lost in the sensation of your hands and the feeling of your body flush against his own. But then the words actually register with his fuzzy, cloudy mind, and he groans, burying his face into your palm. "I know that, I know-- I know," he murmurs against your skin, his voice cracking. "I.. I want this. Please--"

You move his face again, making his hazy eyes look at you once more. “You’re sure? You’re ok with me helping you out?”

He's still grinding his hips against your thigh, his breathing labored and hitched as he tries to control himself. He wants you. He's craving you, and it must be so obvious in his expression and the way his body is moving against your own. It's taking all of his willpower to hold himself back from just taking you.

And yet, he knows. He knows that he is not in his right mind right now. So he swallows down a ragged moan, and nods weakly against your hands. "Yes."

You suck a breath in through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily to gather your bravery, and you use the grip on his cheeks to pull him level with your face, smashing your lips against his.

One moment, he's grinding down against you, seeking that friction that was driving him mad... and the next, he feels your hands tugging at his face to pull him up to your level. When he feels your lips against his, he practically sobs into your mouth, his mind going completely blank, overwhelmed by sensation.

He kisses you back greedily, his lips moving against your own with a feverish desperation that he's never felt before.

You feel his tongue immediately dart out, pushing against yours, him whimpering into your mouth as your tongues tangle. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t have the capacity to be precise at the moment, and his fingers dig into your skin. His hips had momentarily stopped in surprise, but he resumes grinding down, his position now switched so he’s nestled between your legs.

Your mouth is so perfect. So good. He wants to kiss you, wants to feel your tongue against his, and he practically keens when he feels you kiss him back with an equal fire.

His hips start to move again, now more confidently, more surely as he slots himself in between your legs. He lets out a whimper at the pressure, and his hands start to wander along your body.

His hand trails down to your chest, quickly finding your breast and squeezing the flesh, rolling it under his palm. You gasp into his mouth, moaning at the contact of both his hands and his hips grinding into yours.

He relishes how you moan against his mouth as his hand wanders down your chest, finding one breast and squeezing. He's greedy. Greedy to hear more sounds like that, to feel more of your body against his own.

His hips start to move more forcefully, the pressure driving him wild, and he almost growls into your mouth as his tongue tangles against your own. His other hand grips at whatever part of your body he can reach, holding tight to anchor himself to you.

He paws at you, and you allow him to explore, his hands moving quickly from place to place like he can’t decide where to touch. He untangles his mouth from yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck messily, leaving saliva and marks behind as his whines against your skin.

He's practically drunk on the way you taste, addicted to how your body feels under his, and the pollen is making his mind feel fuzzy, hazy-- "Mine," he grunts against your skin.

You whimper at his words, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. You whine out loud as he leaves a particularly hard bite, his tongue soothing over it. “Ka…bru…”

He growls as you tug at the hair, the stinging sensation just adding on to the overwhelming amount of stimulus he's feeling right now. He knows that he's being rougher than usual, especially with the way he bit down on your neck just moments ago.

His tongue soothes over the bite mark, and he moans against your skin, his hips moving against yours in a relentless rhythm. He grinds against you, seeking more friction to satisfy his growing need.

His hands come down to grip the hem of your shirt, growling as he tugs his mouth away to pull it over your head, almost as if he’s angry at himself for having to be separated from your body for one second. Shirt off, he presses his chest against yours, grinding his entire body into you, licking your cheek.

You lift your legs to either side of him, making it easier for him to fit between them. He immediately drops his head to your chest, wrapping his lips around your exposed nipple and sucking hard. “Haaa-ahh!” You cry out, surprised by the intensity.

Gods, the way you sound when you cry out. The way you taste. He moans against your chest as he works his mouth against your breast, sucking hard.

He lets out another whine, his hips grinding against yours relentlessly, the pressure making him ache in the best way possible. "You're mine," he grunts against your skin. "All mine."

He switches sides a few times, nipping with his teeth and sucking, before you push lightly at his shoulders. “Nnngh… pants… off…” You demand.

He lets out a whine at the loss of your skin beneath his mouth, but he lets you push him back as you gasp out your request. Pants off—

His hands are already moving to fumble with the laces, working them off as quickly as possible until he's left in just his underwear.

He doesn't hesitate to press himself against you again, his hands gripping your hips to center himself as he resumes grinding against you.

You had somehow managed to pull your own bottoms down as fast as he had done his, so the only barrier between you was your underclothes. You whimper, feeling his heat between your thighs, embarrassed he could feel how damp your underwear had become in such a short time.

You're so wet-- The thought comes unbidden, but suddenly he is very much aware of it, aware of just how much you're enjoying this, how much you're enjoying him against you.

He gasps, almost akin to a whine, against your skin, and he can feel how the pollen has affected him, has left him a mess, desperate on top of you. "Can I...?" he pants, pulling away from your chest to look at you.

He lets out a ragged moan at your nod, his eyes dark with desire. He's panting, breathing heavily as he looks at you.

He sits back on his heels and gently pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your flushed skin beneath him. He hesitates for a moment, his gaze wandering across your body, taking in the sight of you beneath him, and he groans, leaning down to leave another bite mark on your hip.

You gasp, which fades into a moan as he sucks a mark, his hands coming up to part your thighs.

He growls, making room for himself to move in between them. His mouth wanders across your hip, making sure to mark your skin with a few more bites before he looks back up at you with a hazy stare.

He gasps hoarsely, his voice cracking as he watches your expression. He lifts up one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder. "Look at you~"

You shudder at the reverence in his voice, embarrassed by how closely he’s inspecting you. You whine as he brings up his fingers to test your wetness, rubbing them together and making a string between. You whimper, looking away.

His pupils blow out wide, and he can feel the way your body shudders beneath him. His gaze is almost piercing as he looks at you, his eyes raking down your body, taking in every little detail. You shut your eyes as you start to feel overwhelmed.

"No, no... look at me," he commands urgently, bringing his other hand up to gently grab your chin, gently pulling your face up to look at him. "I want to see you.”

You scrunch your face, but look at him as he had asked. His eyes are lidded, and his face is still flushed. He leans down, placing a teasing kiss on your lower stomach, keeping eye contact while he does so.

"Good," he croons against your skin. "Gods, you're so good for me." One of his hands comes up, moving up to gently cup one of your breasts in his palm. "So good, so perfect."

You whimper again, both turned on and embarrassed by the praise. “Wh-what are you going to do…?”

He chuckles, his fingers teasingly rubbing against your nipple as he speaks, "What do you think I'm going to do?" he asks lightly, his mouth against your stomach again as he lets out a warm breath of air over your skin.

"I'm going to taste you." he answers, his eyes never leaving yours. "Going to make you mine, completely."

He moves down, his hot breath falling against your center. You bite your lip, wondering where he suddenly got all this patience from when he was so desperate before.

His mouth slowly moves lower, and lower, his tongue darting out to sample you, drawing a long, slow stripe against your skin. He groans at the feeling, the taste of you, and he wants—

But he restrains himself, moving his head to nip at the inside of your thigh instead. His hands massage your skin as his mouth teases around you.

You whine, your hand resting atop his head. “Shouldn’t we be… helping y-you… not me?”

He lets out a shaky breath against your skin, his mouth pulling away from your thigh for a moment, though his hands remain pressed against you. "Later," he pants out. "I'll deal with that... later. Let me... Let me focus on you, for now."

He lets out a ragged gasp as he takes another look at you, taking in the way you're spread out in front of him, helpless beneath him. "L-let me focus--"

You clench around nothing, his strong, hyper focused gaze making you feel extra sensitive. “Kabru…” You whimper his name mindlessly.

He lets out a groan at the way you clench around nothing, and he desperately wants to replace his gaze with something else.

He leans his head down again, bringing his mouth back between your legs, just to teasingly run his tongue against your folds. "Just... just relax, sweetheart," he whispers, his breath against your skin.

Despite his words, your stomach clenches as his tongue dips into your folds. You whine again, and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. You feel desperate suddenly, your eyebrow twitching. This was supposed to be making him feel better, and yet he’s toying with you?

"Patience," he murmurs against you, his voice rough. He can tell that you're getting restless, but he doesn't mind that at the moment. He wants to feel you writhe beneath him, wants to hear your desperate whimpers, wants to feel you clench around nothing as his tongue teases you.

He mouths at you with a slow, deliberate pace, not letting you get what you want too easily.

At that, your mind momentarily forgets he’s under a magical effect, that vexation at his bravado returning. You thread your hands in his hair, tugging hard. He whimpers as you pull his head back, hissing at him. “As much fun as you’re having, we don’t have all day.”

He lets out a low, needy whine as you tug at his hair, his body shuddering as he lets you pull his head back. He lets out a shaky exhale as he looks up at you, his gaze hazy with want, but also slightly surprised at how commanding you're suddenly being.

"I know we don't," he says. "But you just look so good, like this. You just... I just want-- I need--" He bites his lip, trying to find the words to express himself.

You feel bad instantly, knowing he can’t control himself right now, shame flooding you. You loosen your grip, smoothing his hair instead. “I know… I want you to feel better, but you’re going to make it worse if you drag it out. Let me help you, please?”

He lets out a low whine as you soothe his hair, and he leans into your touch, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He nods a bit at your request, giving in to your words even as his body tries to resist.

But even still... even though he wants to protest, wants to keep teasing you, just to hear that pretty voice of yours, his body is begging for more. "Please," he gasps out, looking at you with wide, pleading eyes. "Please, help me."

You shudder at the need in his voice, and part your thighs more. “If this is what you want…” you gently push his head down, “then take it…”

His eyes go half-lidded as he gazes back down at you, his mouth parting slightly as his breath stutters in his throat. He can feel the pollen making it hard to think, making it hard to resist, and he can feel your fingers, gentle but firm, guiding him back down, back to your heat.

He lets out a low groan as his tongue begins to taste you again, and his hands grip tighter against your thighs.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your sounds as he fully puts all his effort into devouring you, his grip on your hips tight as he pulls you against his face, nearly smothering himself.

He's desperate in his want, his need for more of you, his tongue working against your skin, trying to get as much of you as he can.

He lets out another desperate whine against you as his tongue dips deeper, trying to lick into you more.

You feel your eyes flutter, hand tangling in his hair again, this time just holding him while you rock up your hips, keeping time with his pace. You whine out as he groans into you, the vibrations shooting heat through your stomach. “Nnnghh… good… feels.. good..” You whimper.

He lets out a strangled moan as your fingers grip his hair, his eyes practically rolling back at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp, holding him tight against you.

He can feel the way your hips rock up to meet his motions, the way you whine out at his sounds against you, and it drives him wild. He doubles his efforts, trying to get more, more—

You feel the bed rock, and realize he’s grinding his hips down as he pushes his tongue into you. You moan aloud, turned on by how much he’s getting off on this alone. You accidentally press down, smushing his face harder into you as you clench, your body heating up.

He shivers as you press down against him, his hands digging into your skin as he lets out a gasp against you. He's almost lost in the feeling of you clenching around his tongue, his eyes closing as he moans against you, his hips pressing down into the bed as he grinds against the pressure.

He can feel the pollen taking hold of him again, and it makes him desperate for more, makes him need more of you. He lets out another hitched moan against you, his tongue lapping up every drop of you he can collect.

You moan, body rocking both from your own movement and his, your head falling back against the pillow. “Fingers… please…” You manage to gasp out.

He lets out another whine as you plead for him, shuddering at the pleasured sound of your voice. For a moment, he thinks about denying you, not giving you what you want just yet, wanting to hear you beg for him...

But the pollen in his veins is making his brain fuzzy, making him desperate, and he wants to please you, wants you to sing for him. His head pulls back from you for just a moment, and he pants against your skin.

His hand comes down between your thighs again, his fingers parting you as his tongue quickly gets back to work, and you keen as you feel both start to press inside of you. “Y-yes….” your breath hitches, and you flop back against his ruffled pillow again.

He's frantic, his hands moving desperately, his teeth occasionally biting marks into your skin as he works his mouth over all of you. He's drowning in you, greedy for more, begging and pleading and whining into you as his head moves against you.

He can't think straight, can't do anything other than focus on you, on the way you taste, on the way you sound.

He lets out a ragged gasp against you when you suddenly squeeze down, your heat and tightness making him dizzy. He’s frozen in place for just a moment as he feels you clenching around him, feeling like he's already on the edge, like he's already so, so…

He finally regains his bearings, moving his fingers inside you, trying to give you some of what you need as he whimpers desperately against you once again.

He starts to pump them into you, his own hips bucking against the bed, whining and laving his tongue against you, the pollen once again ravaging his mind as he gives into the pleasure.

His body is shaking uncontrollably, breath coming out in desperate gasps as he pumps his fingers into you. He can feel the pollen making his head go fuzzy, making him struggle to even think, his body giving control over to instinct as he gives into the pleasure, the need to feel you. “So good," he pants out hoarsely. "Gods, you feel so good-"

Your back arches, your breath coming out heavy as you focus on the feeling of his fingers. “Good… need it… haaahh-“

He lets out a low, ragged moan as he feels you arch up into him, his fingers pumping into you again, trying to find the perfect rhythm. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with need as he looks up at you, wanting to see your face as he takes you, as he pleases you. "I need you," he gasps out desperately. "Need you so badly- please!”

You clench around his fingers again, and he groans, fading into a high pitched whine as he leans down, burying his face into you again. The bed rocks harshly as he grinds down even harder, his shoulders trembling against your thighs.

The sounds that leave him are broken and ragged, almost animalistic, as he tries to hold back his own moans. The bed is shaking at the force of his grinding, his body moving on pure instinct as he tries to take more of you, to feel you all around him-

He suddenly lifts his head, moans tumbling from his lips as his eyes roll back in his head. His body shudders, mouth falling out with small panting whines coming from him. He shakes for a moment, his hand stilling as his head flops forward, the shaking of the bed stopping. You lift your head curiously.

He's panting against you, a strangled, broken sound, as he slowly works his way back down from the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. His body is shuddering against yours, the remnants of the pollen making his brain go fuzzy as his head rests against you.

He seems to realize that you're looking at him, and he slowly opens his eyes to look back at you, his face still flushed and breath labored. "..mmm.." he groans out between pants.

You bite your lip, looking at his fucked out expression. “Kabru..? Did you just..?”

He turns red at your words and he shuts his eyes, his head flopping down again as he tries to catch his breath. "..I.. I may have..." he says with an embarrassed groan. "..it was too much, you were too much-"

You rub his head softly, the pleasure in your own body softening back to a lull for the moment. “It’s ok… you were feeling good…”

He shivers at your touch, his eyes closing again at the soothing feel of your fingers in his hair. He lets out another low groan, the last of the tension seeming to slip from his body as he leans into your palm. "..it felt amazing," he gasps out between breaths. "You... you felt amazing, too good. I couldn't help it."

You smirk a bit, your own breathing returning to normal. You pet his head for a moment longer, before you pause. “Do you… do you want to stop now..?”

He blinks up at you for a moment, his mind still a bit fuzzy from the pleasure just moments before. He almost thinks about stopping, before he feels another overwhelming wave of need, of want, crash over him again.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he tries to get more control over himself, before he looks back up at you again. "No," he gasps out, his eyes dark with desire. "More, please, need more of you-"

He starts moving his fingers again, and your eyes widen, letting out a surprised moan as the hunger returns to his gaze. At the very least, his release gave him some clarity, so he’s entirely focused on you now, his tongue coming back down to rub against you, his eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes stay locked on as he works you back up, the desire, the need still burning strong in his gaze as he moves his fingers against you. He's determined now, focused on one thing and one thing only, on making you cry out for him, on letting himself please you.

His tongue works against you with precision, moving in practiced motions as he watches you for any tiny reaction, any tiny sound.

You breathe out a long moan, the dormant fire in your blood kicking back up as he returns his attention to you. Your thighs tighten together over his shoulders, squishing his face between.

He closes his eyes as he feels you squeeze around him, a low moan rumbling in his chest as his head is trapped between your thighs. His fingers keep moving desperately, and he keeps lapping at you, tasting as much of you as he can, lost in the sensation, in the pleasure.

You arch up again against his mouth. “Need to finish… wanna come for you…”

He lets out another low moan at your words, a shudder going through his body at the sound of your voice. He's desperate to give you what you want, to make you feel good.

His hands keep moving, pumping his fingers as his tongue keeps sliding against you desperately, taking in as much of you as he can. He wants to make you finish, to make you fall over the edge, all for him.

You whine, your hips bucking as you whimper out a string of curses. “Shit I’m close… gonna come… please…”

He whimpers low in his chest, his eyes closing and breath stuttering for a moment as he hears you whine and curse. He wants nothing more than to give you what you need, to give you what you want, and so he moves his fingers and tongue faster, working you towards your completion as he gasps out. "Please, please, please-" he whines desperately against you.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, and at that your head snaps back, your eyes rolling as you crest over the edge. You hold your breath for just a moment, then it all comes whooshing out as you nearly scream, hips snapping against his hand and face as you reach your release.

His own eyes flutter shut as you come, a muffled groan leaving him as he feels your body shudder and tense against him. He tries to keep his hands and mouth moving, to keep working you through the pleasure, desperate to draw out every last wave of it that he can. He feels satisfaction at the way you call out for him, at the way you clench around him.

You whimper as you come down from your high, Kabru cleaning you off with his tongue. The overstimulation hits and you try to push him away.

He lifts his head at your insistence, his eyes hazy and dilated as he slowly comes down as well. His expression turns apologetic as he realizes the overstimulation, and he quickly pulls his face away from you. He lets out a shaky breath, his body shuddering at the essence of you still on his tongue. He wipes his mouth as he hovers over you again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes rake over your body.

Your chest heaves as you attempt to recover, looking up at him with your eyes lidded in satisfaction.

He just stares down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in your flushed skin, your lidded eyes, the way your chest heaves as you recover. He feels his desire flare up again at the sight, his body aching for more, for everything, but he manages to keep himself back, for the moment.

He pants softly as he runs his eyes over you again, before finally letting out a shaky groan. "You're so beautiful," he blurts out.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him down for a kiss, lips meshing together more slowly than before, but still filled with need.

He lets out a low groan into the kiss as you pull him down, melting against you as your lips press together. Some of the frantic and desperate need from earlier is gone, replaced instead by a different, subtler kind of burn.

He moves his body against yours, pressing himself up to you, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as he savors the feeling of your lips against his.

You kiss like that for a moment longer, before you feel his need poking at your hip once more, hips bucking into yours as he starts to kiss you more frantically, the pollen once again overtaking his mind, panting against your mouth and hips stuttering.

He lets out a shuddered gasp as his hips buck up again, his body instinctively seeking out more contact, more pleasure. The need, the desire, is back in full force as he kisses you more frantically, desperately, his hands gripping your body like a lifeline.

"Please..." he pleads softly against you between pants. "Please, please—"

You spread your legs some more, letting him slide in between again. You reach down, taking his hardness in your hand and guiding it to rub against your entrance. “Come on…”

He lets out a shaky breath against you, his body trembling with the sensation, the need running through him. Before he can doubt himself, he moves his hips again, pushing into you, his eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure hits him.

"Ah-" he gasps softly, his breath shuddering even more in his chest as he burrows his face into your neck, his hands gripping at your body again.

You feel him shake as he makes his way in, seated inside you. He hovers over you, looking down to watch himself disappear inside you, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

He pauses there, screwing his eyes shut and trying to retain his sanity. You dig your nails into his back to bring him back to earth.

His eyes shoot open at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, a soft moan escaping him at the slight sting. He tries to remember to breathe, to stay focused. "You feel so good…!"

You move your hips just a little. “Kabru.. need you to move.” You whine.

He lets out another shuddered gasp at the feeling of your hips stuttering when you say that, and he quickly nods, desperate to make you feel good, to give you what you need.

"Okay, okay-" he pants, his voice shaky. He starts to move his own hips then, slowly at first, pulling almost all the way back before pushing back in again.

You tilt your head back, exposing your neck as you tremble and whine, inadvertently clenching around him. Even with the preparation, it’s still a good stretch.

He feels you clench around him, a shaky moan falling from his lips. He grips at your hips with his hands, holding you firmly as he finds a rhythm, slowly working up to a steadier pace.

He lowers his head to your neck, nuzzling and kissing at the exposed skin, desperately trying to keep himself in control.

You arch, pushing yourself up into him. While it feels good and you’re enjoying this, you know he needs more to feel better. You look at him, foreheads pressing together as you look in his gorgeous blue eyes. “D-don’t try to control yourself, you need this, take what you want.”

He lets out another low moan as you arch into him, his eyes shutting for a moment at the sensation. But then he feels your forehead press up against his, and he slowly opens his eyes to look at you again.

He can see the concern in the way you look at him, the way you talk, and he feels a pang of affection for you in his chest. He also knows the pollen's still getting to his brain a bit. "Are you... sure..?" he gasps out. "I don't want to hurt.. to overwhelm-“

You bite your lip, deciding if there’s any moment to be honest, it’s this one. “It’s fine.. I… like when it hurts a little…”

His eyes widen at your words, the confession taking him a little off guard. He shivers, a shudder running through his body as his eyes rake over your face, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth. He lets out another breath, the words still bouncing around his head.

You flush, embarrassed at his lack of response. “Ok well if you want to go all slow be my guest…” You mumble.

He lets out a soft scoff at your shyness, affection welling up in his chest at the way your face flushes. He moves to kiss your forehead before leaning down to press his lips to your cheek, followed by him sliding down your jaw to nibble gently at your neck. "Was just making sure, is all," he mumbles gently against your skin. "You... like the pain, huh..?"

As he says that, he snaps his hips against yours, making a cry bubble from your lips. You furrow your brow. “I-I….”

His eyes darken as he hears your moan, your mewl at the movement of his hips. His fingers dig gently into your hips as he starts to move again, more purposely this time, his eyes glued to your face, watching your expressions intently. "You like it when it hurts.." he breathes into your ear.

You blush, moans being forced out of you as he picks up the pace with each sentence, his hips punctuating everything he says with a sharp thrust. You gasp, “Y-yeah… feels g-good-!”

He lets a soft snicker out as he watches you flush in embarrassment, the sight only serving to encourage him further. His eyes rake over your face hungrily, drinking in all your expressions, the way you flush and the way you gasp for breath, the way your words seem to come out involuntarily.

He starts to pick up the pace more, shifting his hips a bit and adjusting the angle-

"There. What about there..?" he asks you, voice strained.

He feels you squeeze around him as he hits your most sensitive spot, your body tensing as a moan falls from your lips. A smirk tugs at his lips as he takes note, filing it away for future reference. "Right there...," he purrs into your ear, watching your expression intently as he angles his hips and starts to move against you again.

Your hands clench his back, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks as he starts to hit that spot over and over. You try to say his name, but it only comes out as a gurgle.

He hisses softly as he feels your nails digging into his back again, the slight sting adding a pleasant sensation to the needy feeling running through him.

He groans at the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, the sound of his name leaving your lips in a garbled moan driving him crazy. He keeps working his hips up into you, moving against you frantically.

He presses his face into your neck, hips moving at a brutal pace, not wanting to be separated for even a second. You hold him to you tightly, wrapping your whole body around him.

He lets out a strangled gasp as he feels your grip, your hold on him tight and your limbs encircling him. He can feel himself getting lost in the sensation of you, every fiber in his body craving more, more, more.

He keeps his face buried in your neck, breathing in your scent as he keeps on slamming his hips against you, frantically, desperately, his fingers gripping your hips tightly.

He sits up suddenly, pulling your calves up onto his shoulders. You start to ask what he’s doing, but instead heave a loud moan as he bends you in half, leaning forward to push into you again. “Oh… oh gods..!”

He lets out a groan of pleasure as he moves your legs up onto his shoulders, the new position letting him push himself deeper into you, and he pants loudly as he feels you clench around him, your words getting cut off mid-sentence. "You good..?" he asks you between breaths, wanting to make sure you're alright in the new position.

You open your mouth and a cry tumbles out. You squeeze your eyes shut. “So deep… please… more…”

He lets out another noise when he hears your cry, the sound shooting straight to his gut. His hands grip onto your legs at your words, heart skipping a beat with desire.

"Yeah, I got you... I'll give you more..." he gasps as he starts to move again, angling himself against that spot he'd found earlier and starting a steady rhythm, working up to a slightly faster pace.

You try hard to keep your eyes open, his dark lust filled ones keeping eye contact, his face much closer as he drives into you like this. The new angle feels so intense, you can’t even try to close your mouth, every breath accompanied by some kind of pleasured noise.

He keeps his eyes fixed on yours as he moves into you, watching, drinking up the way your face twists and the sounds that fall from your lips, the way your breaths and gasps are getting more labored.

Between all his gasps and panting, he manages to speak a few times, his words shaky, raspy, as he tells you how good you feel, how much he needs you.

His hips slap against you and you bite your lip hard, surely bruising yourself at how much you’re feeling. “Gods… need it so bad… want you to fill me up.. hannghh-!”

He lets out a shuddering moan at your desperate whines, his eyes darkening as his hands grip your legs with a little more pressure. He can feel the building tension in him starting to get more and more intense, his eyes raking over your face desperately. “Yeah, you want it that bad, huh..? Need me to fill you up, baby..?" he pants out, voice strained with the effort.

You nod mindlessly, feeling your eyes go out of focus at his words. “Need it… please.. give it to me….”

He gasps as he sees your face start to twist in front of him, your eyes glazing over and your words sounding almost mindless. He lets out a shaky moan at the desperate tone of your voice, his body getting tight with tension. "Yeah… yeah, I will, you’ll take it-" he gasps out as his pace starts to get more and more frantic, moving against you roughly.

In the back of your mind you wonder if some of that pollen had rubbed off on you, acting even more desperate than the party leader above you. You tilt your head back, enjoying the sensation of his hips pounding into you.

You gasp and moan again as he keeps pumping into you, feeling the burning pleasure building in your abdomen again. You bring your hand down, fingers rubbing circles against yourself to help bring you to the edge.

He can feel the way your body starts to tense up, your moans getting more and more frequent, and he knows that you're close.

He watches as your hand comes down to touch yourself, the movement making his heart start to pound in his chest harder.

"Gods- just like that, baby.. please-" he gasps out, voice strained.

You look up again, making eye contact with him, and a spark of pleasure shoots through you. You whine, bucking your hips up as best you can from your position. “Gonna come again… oh gods… gonna come for you…”

He lets out a shaky gasp as he sees you look up at him, your eyes making direct contact with his, and he whimpers at the feeling that comes with the sight.

He keeps moving against you while trying to control himself, not wanting to lose himself too soon. But at the sound of your whine and your words- "Please baby.... come for me-"

At his response, your eyes slam shut, your body tensing for a moment before you thrash, your pleasure being ripped from you as you reach your high again. You tremble around him, both your thighs and insides clenching as he keeps his harsh pace through it.

His eyes go wide as he watches you come undone in front of him, your body tensing and trembling as he keeps moving against you, the feeling almost sending him over the edge.

He moans loudly as he feels you clench around him, the sight of you in front of him, the sounds you involuntarily make, the way you thrash as you reach your high making the tension in his body almost unbearable-

"Gods- Gods, baby-" he gasps out again, his eyes squeezing shut.

You shiver and whimper as he keeps going, “Please…” You moan out “Come inside… please…”

He feels another pang of pleasure go through him when he hears your voice, shaky and needy. Each word from your mouth only makes it harder to hold onto any semblance of control, makes him want to give in even more.

He pants as he picks up his pace, moving harder, deeper into you as he feels himself close to the edge. He almost moans out your name in between the gasps and pants as he gets closer and closer- "Yeah... gonna... hah.. gonna give it to you-!”

He falls silent, his head dipping down as he concentrates, his brow furrowing as he buries himself in you over and over, gasping as he teeters right on the edge.

He tries to hold on just a bit longer, trying to draw out this moment in time as long as possible, savoring the feeling of moving against you, the sound of you moaning right in his ear. “Fuck-" he gasps out- "Hah- please.. I'm gonna- mmph-"

He slams his hips into you frantically, his vision going white as he finally reaches his climax.

His eyes squeeze closed as he loses control, his hips moving in quick, rough bursts as he feels himself reach his peak, his fingers digging into your hip as he gasps and writhes.

He lets out a shaky moan as he feels his release wash over him, his body tense as his hips twitch while he rides out his orgasm, moving instinctively against you. He groans out your name in between the pants and moans as he shudders and trembles.

He feels himself twitch inside you, the sensation sending sparks through his body as he pants desperately, still coming down from his high.

He leans against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressed against yours, still moving against you slowly. He lets out a shaky gasp, his breath hot against your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

You bring your hand up, moving his damp hair from his forehead, feeling him still twitching.

He shudders when he feels you touch his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin from the exertion and sweat. He shuts his eyes as he feels your hand move along his face, your fingers tangling in his hair gently. His breathing still has a bit of a tremble, his body shuddering from the aftershocks.

He lets out a soft gasp as he feels himself twitch again, the feeling starting to get just a bit overstimulating.

You sigh out as he breathes, slowly returning to normal. He lays still for just a moment, yet suddenly his hips snap up again. He whimpers, a mix of pain and pleasure, but his hips move again as if they have a mind of their own.

His eyes widen when he feels his hips move without his control, his body acting on its own as it seems to be searching for more friction. His whimpers are shaky, caught somewhere between bliss and discomfort.

He gasps as he feels himself twitch again, the sensation of being overstimulated making him shiver. "Wait-" he gasps, voice trembling, "help me- please…"

You gasp as you feel him drive into you again, sensitive from just before. “Kabru..?” You question.

He lets out a whimper as he moves into you again, the mixture of pleasure and sensitivity causing him to shiver as he moans.

He feels his cock twitch inside you again, another wave of sensation running through him. He pants out a shaky "Please-" as he lets himself get caught up in the feeling, his eyes going half-lidded again.

You shiver at the movement. “What’s… you’re still..?”

He trembles as he hears your words, his mind feeling fuzzy with pleasure. He bites down on his lip as he tries to get control of his thoughts again. "Hah- Yeah… yeah, I-” he gasps out, voice shaky and trembly. "I-I don’t… think I’m done-”

You feel his arm muscles shake with exertion, picking himself up to hover over you again, a complicated look on his face, over sensitive but still craving the sensation.

He swallows hard as he looks down at you, his expression torn between discomfort and craving more. His body is still seeking out friction without his control, his hips grinding against yours.

You furrow your brows, concerned. “You… doesn’t it hurt…?” You run your hands through his hair, him whimpering and pushing up into your palm, his hips snapping again and he lets out a cry.

His expression of pleasure falters when you ask him if it hurts, your words reminding him of the overwhelming feeling he’s experiencing. He lets out a shaky whine as he nods, his hips still moving despite himself.

You bite your lip, feeling bad for him. It hurt him to continue, but it also hurt to not continue. You consider what to do, and bring your hand to his cheek as he whimpers, hips twitching.

He whines again at the feeling of his hips moving, the conflicting feelings of pleasure and pain making it difficult to think straight.

Determined to help, you wrap yourself around him suddenly, pushing with all your might to flip his heavy form without crushing any important parts. He looks up at you in surprise as you smile down at him, still straddling him. “You’re tired… let me help?”

He lets out a shaky breath as he looks up at you, still somewhat tired from the previous session. He nods eagerly at your words, a silent plea for you to help him let his body rest.

You feel him relax a bit and smile, getting up on your heels and hearing him whimper uselessly at the slide. You place your hands on his chest for leverage, slowly starting to grind up and down on him.

He gasps as he feels you moving on top of him, his eyes widening again as he watches you, hands clenching around the sheets beneath him. The feeling of you grinding up and down against him sends sparks of pleasure through his body, the mixture of oversensitivity and pleasure making him shiver and whine involuntarily. "Gods- Baby- please-" he gasps out, voice trembling.

You gasp in tandem as your own body feels the ache, still moving so you can give him relief. “I got you…”

He feels his body shiver again as he watches you move on top of him, his eyes fixed on you as he swallows hard. The overstimulation is still sending waves of pleasure and pain through his body, but the feeling of you trying to give him relief makes his heart flutter. "Hah- I-I know, baby, I know… you’ve got me…" he moans out, his voice broken as he speaks.

You bounce a little harder, breath whooshing out of Kabru every time you drop back down. He releases his grip on the sheets and brings his hands up to loosely rest on your hips.

You run your hands over his chest, moaning “You just.. c-couldn’t end there huh? Needed more~!”

He moans softly as he feels your hands roaming over his chest, the feeling sending shivers through his body. He bites down on his lip as he listens to you, a shaky smile crossing his face as he nods weakly. "Y-Yeah…" he gasps out, voice trembling. "I couldn’t.. couldn’t stop, I need-" he moans, his hips pushing up instinctively against you.

You shut your eyes, focusing on bouncing on him, clenching every time you go up. “You’re gonna… fill me again… hah..”

He gasps at the feeling of you clenching around him, his head tossing back against the bed as he lets out a moan. His breath comes out in whimpers, each one more shaky than the last as he feels himself be pushed down with every movement. “Yeah- yess- I-Hah-” he gasps out, voice trembling as his hips push up once again, trying to meet you in the middle.

You move as fast and hard as you can, his whines picking up in tone as he pushes back against you, so close again already.

His breath is coming out in desperate stutters as you move on top of him, the feeling of you bouncing on him pushing him quickly towards the edge. He feels his body trembling harder, his hands clenching on your hips tightly as he pushes back against you, desperate for more stimulation. “Hah-! Baby-!” he moans, his voice trembling as he gets close again. “Gods- please… please-“

It takes only a few seconds later, and you feel him tense, his face melted in an expression of desire.

He reaches his high, body tensing and shaking as he lets out a loud gasp, his head tossed back against the bed. His eyes slam shut tight, face frozen in intense pleasure as he moans loudly, his body trembling and twitching beneath you.

“Hahh- f-fuck-!” he cries out, body tightening as he rides it out.

You bounce a few more times to milk him, but he whines, this time is pain, and you sink down on his lap, panting.

He swallows hard, his breath coming out in weak gasps, hands still clenching on your hips tightly.

You lift up, pulling off him, and he whines again, but sighs as you remove yourself and flop down next to him.

He lays there, breathing heavily, still trying to catch his breath and steady himself. He closes his eyes, feeling exhausted and oversensitive in the aftermath of his climax.

You both lay there for a few more moments, his eyes still closed as he tries to even out his breathing. He can feel the exhaustion in his body, the ache in his limbs, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

After a few more moments he opens his eyes, turning to look over at you. He’s still panting slightly as he lays there, looking somewhat drained and exhausted, but there’s a soft, almost grateful look in his eyes.

As he makes eye contact, reality comes back, and you blush, looking at the ceiling instead. It’s silent for a moment. “You feel better?

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze studying your flushed face and averted eyes, and he can't help but crack a faint smile at your blushing. He stays still for a few moments longer, the silence growing thicker.

He considers your question, taking stock of how his body feels. The hazy, oversensitized feeling has receded, leaving a more general soreness in its place. He nods slightly. "Yeah… I feel better. Thank you,” he says hoarsely.

You blush harder, keeping your gaze on the ceiling. “You’re welcome..” You remain there for another moment before sitting up, clearing your throat. “You’re.. okay now?”

When he nods, you determine that he’s worked everything out, your back aching as you raise yourself off the bed. “Alright good… the others will be back with the doctor soon so…” You trail off.

He watches you as you sit up, noticing the way you wince slightly as your back aches. He feels a pang of guilt, seeing the aftereffects of the pollen on your body.

At your words, he swallows hard, nodding slowly. "Yeah…" he says quietly. There's a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, the realization of what just happened hitting both of you with full force. The others would be returning soon.

You stand, your legs shaking slightly. “I’ll uh… head to my room… if you need me again just…” You look away, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

His gaze follows you as you stand up, his eyes flickering subtly as he notices the slight tremble in your legs. He knows that he’s at least somewhat responsible for your current state.

He swallows as you speak, his eyes widening a bit as you look away, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He’s suddenly hit by how different this situation is outside of the haze of the pollen. He nods awkwardly, still sitting on the bed. "Alright. Yeah. I’ll… I’ll.. keep that in mind," he stutters.

You quickly get dressed, the two of you silently and awkwardly moving around the room. After you finish putting your clothes back on, you head to the door, giving him a nod before stepping into the hallway.

He watches as you quickly get dressed, the silence between the two of you filled only by the sounds of fabric rustling and you moving around the room. When you finish, he frowns as he watches you move towards the door, feeling a pang of something in his chest as you give him a final nod.

His eyes follow you as you step out into the hallway, leaving him alone in the room. He groans, his mind racing, wrestling with the strange mixture of emotions swirling inside him after what just happened between the two of you.

*—*

a/n: sorry if the formatting is weird i pumped this out on my train ride today. anyway uh this was inspired by beooum’s character ai bot prompt and it got my brain moving, so enjoy my rambles as i procrastinate more of my school work!

[your-friendly-sociopath]

Ok listen up, I'm bored and tired and have recently come to the realization that all time is fleeting and hazbin hotel has yet to release their first episode

So to cope, I've written more yandere alastor x reader cus I can

This one is romantic btw, set during alastor's life

Tw: Attempted Rape, murder, and gore

Part 2 here

His Darling Doe

Recently, a quaint little diner opened across the street from Alastor's radio station

It was quite convenient to him, not as out-of-the-way as his usual preferred spot

So he started going to the diner every morning for a cup of joe

You were rather new in town, and had been looking for a job after having just finished moving in

So you applied for a waitress position at the new diner, and got the job

Because you were new, you didn't recognize Alastor as a famous radio host

To you, he was just your average handsome fella

Rather coincidentally, Alastor would find himself at the same table every morning, which just so happened to be in your section

You introduced yourself to him, pencil hovering over your notebook as you prepared to take his order

Much to Alastor's surprise (and slight relief) you didn't fangirl over him immediately

In fact, you treated him like you did any other customer

It was refreshing

Alastor ordered his coffee, while also sizing you up

You came very close to being his next victim

Not because he didn't like you

On contrary you amused him

Always having a snarky reply to his sarcastic remarks

He'd compliment you, and you'd compliment him back

He ended up spending and hour longer at the diner then he should've chatting with you

Reluctantly he told you he had to go, but promised to see you again soon

He was sure to tip you on his way out

Later that night as Alastor was closing up the station he started thinking about you

You had perplexed him

You were one of the few humans that he found entertaining

At least, one of the few humans that didn't need to be brutally murdered in order to find entertaining

He had found himself entranced when speaking with you earlier, he just knew he needed more

So after that night he would always show up early at the diner, hours before his shift at the radio station, and simply talk with you

At first you had been weirded out by his constant presence each morning

But over time you grew to look forward to your meetings

You even developed a crush on him

Now, having lived in new Orleans long enough, you obviously new of it's infamous serial killer

Most of everything you knew came from Alastor's talk show

During one of your early morning meet ups with Alastor, you confessed your deep fear of the killer to him, while also expressing concern for both of y'all's safety

Alastor found this to be very endearing and somewhat amusing (though he didn't let the latter show)

He claimed immediately after you spoke that he would do everything in his power to keep you out of harms way

So after that Alastor would walk you home from your job every night

However one night Alastor got held up at the station, leaving you to walk home, alone

You had walked home by yourself plenty of times before, but tonight was different

As you left the diner you felt a strange sense of foreboding

While walking home you felt grimy old hand roughly grab you wrist and yank you into the alleyway

You opened you mouth to call for help, but before you could make a noise your assailant smashed his lips into yours

You thrashed in his grip and were able to get your mouth free of his

Before you could continue to fight back you heard a zipping sound and realized with dread what this man intended

However, before he could get any further something crashed into him and pinned him to the ground

Immediately you scrambled a few feet away, eyes wide as you realized just who had saved you

Alastor pinned the old man to the ground and ruthlessly stabbed the man over and over, until the walls were covered in scarlet

Quickly, you shuffled backwards, still on the ground, in an attempt to get away

Unfortunately for you, Alastor heard you and snapped his head in your direction, maniacal grin now etched in his face

He kept towards you and pinned you to the ground, similarly to how he had pinned your now dead assailant

You closed your eyes tightly, and flinched away when you felt his hot breath on your neck

You had gotten a glimpse of the body lying a few feet away from you, and had quickly realized that Alastor was the very killer you were so scared of

You were expecting the sharp and painful feeling of a knife being plunged in your chest

So when you instead felt soft kisses along you collar bone, you couldn't help but involuntarily flinch

You felt Alastor pause his gentle touched, as he climbed off of you and pulled you into his lap on the floor

"My darling Doe, are you alright?"

You heard him ask gently

To scared to talk, you managed only a stiff nod

You heard a soft chuckle come from him, as he stood up and carried you bridal style out of the alley, and towards the bayou

You felt the cool night air hit you, and shivered

You could feel your shock slowly wearing off, yet couldn't stop trembling, knowing that you were in the arms of a killer

Alastor felt you trembling in his arms, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your soft hair

"I have you, you're safe now, my dear,"

You heard him whisper into your hair

Eventually you reached a cabin deep within the swamp

Alastor kicked the door open and carried you upstairs into his bedroom

He gently put you down on the bed, before kissing your forehead and leaving, being sure to lock the door behind him

Once you were alone you curled up on the corner of the bed, and cried

You don't know what exactly about, all you knew was that your head was to full of emotion and shock to think clearly

So you cried yourself to sleep

When you woke up you were in the same bed, but in a clean sleeping gown

With Alastor curled up around you

At first you simply nuzzled closer, feeling Alastor tighten his arms around you

Then you noticed the blood stain on his sleeve, and suddenly all your memories of the previous night came crashing back

You jumped out of the bed and ran to the door, yanking on the doorknob, only to find it locked

Suddenly, you felt a warm, broad chest press against your back, and strong arms around your waist

A few months ago you'd've been delighted to be in this situation

Now though, you were petrified

"Wherever do you think your going, my darling Doe?"

You heard Alastor say softly behind you

"You're home now, safe and sound with me. Where you belong~"

Love me some unhinged Alastor

Might do part two, idk yet

[obsessive-evie]

keep them on, please

pairing: Caitlin Clark + fem!oc

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of rough sex, inappropriate use of jewelry??

Sets of perfectly mismatching rings always covered my fingers. A wrap-around Lilly spoon ring for my pointer finger was a specific favorite of mine. And Caitlin’s.

My girlfriend’s slightly anxious personality meant her eyes gravitated towards safety. Which was often found in the familiar, or my rings. The same rings every day on the same fingers, fiddled with in the same patterns, flipped across fingertips absentmindedly by myself.

So any chance my girlfriend could get, her hand would find mine, and I loved it. And every time without fail, her lengthy fingers would always find a way to maneuver said silver rings off of my own smaller ones, and into hers. She would fiddle with them, slide them along my knuckles, and look at them so closely you’d think she was trying to memorize every carving and scratch.

I’ve never really asked her about it until I noticed she looks at them during… certain times.

We had just arrived home after a night out with friends, after a few drinks in and her hands had gone a little too far up my thigh for the busy upscale bar, I’d told her we should head home.

The whole ride home was spent with my slightly more than tipsy girlfriend glued to my hands. The hands that once roamed over my thighs and hips in the dimly lit bar were now brushing over my knuckles and flipping my rings as she leaned on my shoulder.

Arriving back at her place for the night, we had ended up half clothed- my dress bunched up around my hips with straps falling off my shoulders as she hovered above me, her black silk shirt all the way unbuttoned to reveal a simple lace bralette.

Of course her hands held mine as she kissed my neck, leaving it up to me to undress us one handed. The silk shirt that I picked out for her highlighted her pale skin in the low light of her bedroom, the shadows from it accentuating her collarbones and abs as she left small bites on my neck.

Caitlin’s large hand came to pin down my own, her knuckles squeezing harder around my rings, which reminded me I needed to take them off before this went any further.

Pushing back on her shoulder with my one free hand, I break our kiss, “Wait babe sit up for a sec,” I say. She leans back to sit more on my thighs than on my hips, allowing me to sit up and begin to take off my rings.

A warm hand stops me, wordlessly, she pushes my shoulders back down and returns to my neck. I let her, thinking she just wants to makeout right now and not go any further.

But once she’d pulled me out of my dress and untucked her shirt from her jeans (the action totally didn’t kill me a little), unbuttoning them along the way, I realized this was most definitely not a makeout.

Pushing on my inebriated girlfriend’s shoulder once again, except this time hooking my leg around her own, effectively flipping out positions and seating myself atop Caitlin’s hips.

Attempt number 2 of taking off my rings: also unsuccessful.

I took a moment to appreciate my girlfriend with my hands on her abs, “You’re so pretty baby.” She still doesn’t say anything, a tendency of sleepy/tipsy/horny Cait. I brought my hands together once more to pull off my rings, but before I could even get one off, her hands stop me again.

Gentle and warm fingers press into my wrists, her thumbs barely cutting into my pulse point. Before I realize what’s happening, shes sat up onto her elbows and is kissing the soft inside of my wrist, followed by my palm, then the back of my hand, then lastly my knuckles, her lips barely brushing the cool metal adorning them. “Keep them on,” she finally voices in a quiet, almost timid voice. Caitlin going reserved in the bedroom wasn’t entirely unusual. She was an anxious person half the time and a confident powerhouse the other half, I never knew what I was going to get when we were undressed.

But this edge to her voice, the slight waver in her tone, the way her eyes relaxed slightly, like she was melting into my gaze. This was different. New. This wasn’t our usual game of cat and mouse, she was showing a different form of vulnerable I rarely got to see.

Her lips slide down my fingers, past my rings, until my nails are barely resting on the flesh of her bottom lip. Her soft grip on my wrist doesn’t change as she slowly opens her mouth wider and to take my center two fingers into the warm wetness. Her tongue juts out just slightly, sliding my digits deeper and deeper, making me gasp at her unwavering eye contact and bold actions.

Her lips close around my knuckles as she closes her eyes, my rings sitting just behind her lips. I can’t quite breathe, or think.

That’s when I feel her tongue begin to slide up and down the crevice created by my two fingers together, sucking just slightly. She tilts her head back faintly, allowing herself to slide the tip of her tongue under the rim of a thick stamped ring on my middle finger. The small but strong muscle moves said ring back towards her mouth as she slowly slides my hand away from her.

Her eyes open slowly once my nails are resting once again by her now closed lips, covered in spit this time. Now missing a ring, my pulse quickens at what I just witnessed. My tall and usually tough girlfriend completely surrendering to me, and taking my fingers in her mouth oh so gently, sucking on them and covering them with her warm spit.

Her soft eyes bore into mine as she opens her mouth to reveal my ring sitting so perfectly on her tongue. She sticks it out slightly, an offering, I realize. Like a pearl in an oyster, my shiny spit covered ring stands out against the deep pink of her mouth and tongue.

I reach my middle finger back over her tongue, placing the tip of it in the center of the ring, and slide it back onto my knuckles with my ring and index finger. The motion I’ve done a thousand times now has a different meaning to it once I look back at the loving eyes of my girlfriend.

She almost looks too pretty, too soft laying there like this, tongue stuck out and spit beginning to pool on the muscle. It slowly slides back into her mouth before she closes her shiny lips again and swallows. Caitlin’s takes a deeper breath, like she was in a slight trance (I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t either), and restates, “keep them on,” there’s a pause, “please.” She says the last part in an almost pleading, ever so slightly shaky voice. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But the unmistakable lilt of sheer wanton desire slides under her words like a silent stream.

I nod, feeling air enter my lungs in a deep inhale, allowing myself to breathe after such a tense moment. My fingers retreat from her lips, and I notice the sheen on her chin and surrounding areas. I swipe my thumb slowly across it, and her mouth opens slightly, almost instinctively. Before I back out, I dip the edge of my thumb into her mouth, opening her jaw wider by pressing on the lower row of her teeth. The slight bite of them pressing into the pad of my thumb makes me want her more as the dainty silver band sitting at the base of it is now flooded with spit.

I withdraw from her mouth once more after she swipes her tongue gently across my thumb. Keeping my hand resting on her jaw and cheek, I lean down to kiss my girlfriend deeply.

I breathe in her pulse, her soft hair underneath my under forearm as it holds myself up above her head, the taste of her lips on mine, and the unmistakable tang of metal on her tongue. I moan into mouth when she pushes her hip up into my center, her hands still resting frozen by her side like she’s waiting for permission to grab at my hips.

My right hand wanders down from her jaw to her neck and collarbones, framing where they meet in a perfect U-shape. My movement seems to spur her on, and I finally feel the familiar warmth of her hands on my hips, cradling the lace covered flesh with such gentle firmness I can’t help but kiss her harder.

My hand resting on her neck slides around to the muscle of her shoulder, sitting up and pulling her with me.

“Off.” Is all I say, sliding the silk fabric that was already hanging off her shoulders down the silent strength of her arms, as it was more just hanging off her slender form after being untucked earlier. Next I undo her belt, sliding it out of its loops without breaking eye contact. She understands to lift her hips after I unbutton her pants and open her zipper, revealing a matching. Set.

The same pattern of black lace and ribbed cotton adorns her hips and pussy, melting me from the inside out. My eyes meet hers before I slide her pants the rest of the way down her long legs, sitting myself back on her smooth skin of her thighs. She looks away, clearly nervous and awaiting my reaction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” is all I can breathe out before I lean back up to capture her lips, my hands (and my rings) digging into her prominent hip bones to hold myself up.

The two of us were now only wearing our bras and underwear, each just sultry enough to elicit a reaction, but comfortable enough to wear on a night out. Caitlin’s was simply more jarring to me.

Don’t get me wrong, my incredibly sexy girlfriend liked to be girly and feminine, but usually opted for her more practical sports bras and simple underwear. So seeing her strong body covered in something so delicate and pretty was a pleasant surprise, even if her bra was visible all night.

Her warm hands pull my hips down onto her protruding ones, making me gasp into our kiss in surprise. Letting the sparks it creates burn through me, I push my hips down to hers this time, moaning into her mouth at the pleasant buzz. As I begin to move back from her hips, she pushes hers up, continuing my pleasure.

I shift my weight to my right knee holding myself up outside her thigh so I can reposition myself seated on just one of her strong thighs, allowing my kneecap to meet her black lace.

A bitten lip and a short exhale is my gift in return.

I move my knee once more, sinking back down onto the tense area where her hip bone meets her thigh. We fall into this rhythm, pushing my knee into her clothed center, grinding down and towards her on her thigh, while she pushes her leg up and flexes.

The result of this repetition is the sight of my girlfriend beneath me, wearing a matching set (which alone would kill me anyways), with her eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching and grinding against my own. Her mouth parts slightly with a gasp, her abs begin to flex even harder as her shakey grip tightens on my thighs.

I pull her hips down onto my knee and slow my grinding, allowing her to squeeze her thighs together. Running my decorated hand up her abs and chest, stopping once I get to her collarbones, I lean my head down to whisper in her ear, “you look so filthy fucking yourself onto my thigh.”

Her whole body shudders, her breathing stalls and comes out in rushed puffs of hot air, I see her mouth open wider as she tilts her head back.

Oh shit

Fast paced pants and whines fill the dimly lit bedroom, and she’s finishing on my leg before I can process how fast she got here, especially just through her underwear.

I don’t slow my movements, not for a second. Not even when her grip on my thighs turns almost painfully hard. Not even when I’m worried she’s not breathing at all.

A large and harsh exhale leaves her spit slick mouth, and her shudders seem to slow. I wait for her to slow her hips herself, leaving my knee pressed into her for Caitlin to decide when she’s done. Her hips come to a full stop, her tense abs and neck relax, and her death-grip on my thighs eases.

Her eyes are still closed when I slowly ease my knee away from her core, kissing her cheek softly as a distraction. Consciousness seems to flood her face after air fills her lungs once more for a complete breath at my actions.

I smile softly, kissing her cheek again, followed by her nose. She opens her mouth to speak, meeting my eyes. Nothing comes out, her eyes vulnerable and almost embarrassed. I move a piece of hair out of her eyes, admiring how the dark strands pool above her like a halo in this light.

“Are you okay?” I whisper softly, almost into her mouth. Her face flushes even more crimson, averting her eyes and tilting her head away from me. Her clear embarrassment at how fast she finished on my thigh surfacing at my question.

Oh so gently, I cradle her jaw, turning her back to face me. I kiss her firmly on the lips this time, not allowing her to turn again when I pull away. “I’ll ask again,” I whisper into her mouth, keeping her eyes on mine, “are you alright baby?” A slow but firm nod is what follows.

I feel her take a deep breath with her whole chest before responding, “I just didn’t expect that is all.” I feel a small smile grace my face at her embarrassment, her warm deep brown eyes nervously dancing between my own. My own teeth dig into my lip, deciding to be slightly cruel, I push my knee back up into her, making her gasp and squirm before I say, “I liked it.”

I can see her holding back a moan, slightly from overstimulation and slightly from my words and attention. I push again, making her flinch slightly, “Not yet, I can’t,” she gasps out, holding my hips firmly away from her, our slight strength and size imbalance making it easy for her to do so. My thumb soothes the creases between her brows, admiring her features in the moonlight.

She kisses me this time, myself too distracted with the beautiful girl beneath me to notice her own stares at my lips. We kiss until I can’t hold myself up anymore, my arms giving out forcing me to lay fully on my girlfriend. Our chests pressed together, hearts beating in synch, trying to melt every golden molecule of her body into mine, we stay like that for not long enough.

My hand on her jaw and cheek rings dancing along her warm skin, my other still playing with her hair, Caitlin moves her own hands up my back and waist, pulling me closer.

Before I can slink back down her body to give her another deserved orgasm, I’m flipped onto my back by the lithe muscles holding me. What once was my embarrassed and shy girlfriend post orgasm is now a smirking and hungry looking brunette above me. She begins kissing my neck softly, making me melt into the pillow. I almost don’t notice when her smooth hand slides under my slightly arched back, unclasping my bra in one quick movement.

Before I can protest and remove hers too, she sucks where my neck meets my shoulder, hard. “Hey! That kind of hurt…” I say in a tone slightly whinier than I would’ve liked. She laughs a breathy laugh before pealing the black lace off my chest and shoulders, tossing it to the side somewhere in her room. Her large hands cradle my upper rib cage, thumbs dipping into my sternum just under my boobs while her middle finger reaches all the way over the side of my torso.

She continues her slightly rough kissing on my neck, trailing down to my newly exposed tits. She knew how sensitive they were at times, and decided to get payback for earlier I guess. Attacking the soft flesh with a flurry of her tongue and occasional strikes of teeth, she began leaving tiny marks all down my chest and rib cage.

Deciding I’ve had enough of this teasing, and the fact that she still has her bra on, I pull her shoulder blades forward into me, causing her to lean down on top of me with her head pressing into my sternum. She looks up, meeting my eyes slightly, so I cradle her jaw yet again and make her fully look at me. “Kiss me,” I say, milking the slightly pouty nature hoping she’ll abandon her post at my tits in favor of my mouth.

She does, my girlfriend never being able to say no to me when I give her any ounce of control. Oh well bye bye control for her.

The second she gets close enough to my face, my decorated hand finds her neck, squeezing slightly in a consistent but firm grip. Never hard enough to hurt her or cut off her air yet, but hard enough to make her freeze. Now knowing how she feels about my rings, I make sure to push the base of my fingers just as hard as my fingertips.

Her eyes change again, back to a similar vulnerable air from before. Pushing harder with the base of my hand and wrist, I moved her away from my face and sit up as she moves. All I simply do next is push on her shoulders and she’s falling back into the pillows once more. There must’ve still been enough alcohol in my girlfriend’s system for her to be so pliant with me, her usual cocky demeanor shining through occasionally, even when she’s a total bottom for me.

Seating myself once more on her hips, borderline lower stomach. I keep her eyes on mine as I slowly remove one ring, a smooth moonstone juts out from its silver casing, so I place it on the nearby bedside table. Quite frankly that would not be comfortable in any situation. I make it very apparent I’m keeping the rest on by placing my hands on her chest firmly, and dragging the cool metal up and around her back.

She gets what I’m trying to do and arches just enough for me to unhook her perfectly pretty bralette. Repeating the actions she did for me silently, I take my time reveling in every inch of newly exposed skin, knowing she’ll start getting nervous soon under my gaze.

Running the now seven silver rings up and down her stomach and sternum, around her chest and collarbones, while purposefully avoiding too close to her tits, Caitlin begins to squirm. I glance up at her face, noticing she wasn’t making any kind of noise yet. She had her bottom lip trapped between the sharp teeth I know all too well, face turned to the side, eyes glancing anywhere but me while her eyelids fluttered every time I got closer to her nipples.

I lean down to kiss her cheek, which brings a small smile to the clearly high strung girl beneath me. Following that kiss with a quick one where her jaw meets just below her ear, then the side of the her neck, the hollow of her throat, the inner tip of her collarbone, lastly a feather light peck on her sternum. I pause, just hovering above her tits, I can almost feel her heartbeat pick up as my breath tickles her skin.

Glancing up her face once more, I take it her almost anguish gracing her features before relenting, and kissing my way across her chest. A gentle suck on one of her perked nipples and I finally get a noise out of her. A breathy, barely there whine albeit, but a noise nonetheless. Caitlin was typically pretty quiet during sex, usually holding back her noises out of embarrassment, or simply opting for heavy breathing and swearing, the occasional whine telling me I’m doing something right.

Rubbing up and down her sides, I move to alternate sucking on one nipple, and gently rubbing and pinching the other, eliciting a few more heavy breaths, and finally, “fuck, babe.”

I smile, taking that as my cue to start kissing her abs. I won’t lie, I definitely spent far too long with my lips attached to her abs. Little bites, gentle hickeys, kisses, anything I can to mark up her toned stomach, I will 100% always do. I can’t help it her muscles are incredibly hot and only available when she’s beneath me.

Her breaths come out faster and harder the lower I go, treating every ridge and hard line with a stark mix of gentle tongue and sharp teeth. My hands still keeping busy on her chest and sides, my large etched ring on my middle finger brushes her right nipple, catching on it as my hand travels. This simple action results in a buck of her strong hips, and her hand coming to hold the back of my head (like my head had anything to do with that action?), accompanied with a gasp that melts into a soft moan.

Her noises are more consistent now, but I can tell she’s still holding back. Never one to ask or beg for me to do anything, I travel to her hips, biting on my way down to her thighs to ease up on my relentless teasing. She finally looks down at me once I’ve seated my lips at the junction of her hip and thigh, sucking intently on the soft flesh there.

I grip her twitching hips slightly harder than necessary, making sure she feels the cool press of the metal adorning them into her soft skin. I keep her eyes on mine, making sure Cait sees my next move.

Kissing just above the lace on her hip, I pause. Grabbing the thin fabric between my front teeth, and her mouth parts even more. I pull the lacy black underwear concealing my girlfriend down to her thighs, then fully off her with my hands once I reach her knees.

Running my hands back up her outer thighs as I kiss the soft skin on the inside of them, she parts the strong muscles for me. This new position of staring directly at her cum covered pussy sends a new kind of determination through me.

I hesitate, glancing back up at her face for approval before moving straight into kissing and gently licking her dripping cunt. Her shaking hand immediately comes to gently hold the back of my head, her long veiny fingers threading themselves into my hair. I eat her out almost teasingly for a few minutes, holding back from sucking too hard or for too long. She seems to notice the teasing nature of my tongue.

“Babe,” is all she says softly, immediately glancing away and looking back at me with nerves. I don’t pause my tongue, I simply look up and meet her pleading brown eyes. Moving one hand from its tight grip on her hips, I run my fingers over the divots and lines of her abs and ribs, making sure she feels it. The newfound freedom of her hip means she immediately pushes down onto my face slightly.

I pull away entirely, earning me an annoyed glare and the sight of my usually tough top girlfriend throwing her head back onto the pillow in frustration.

“Eyes on me baby,” is all I say in a tone far lower than I expected. The warm brown of her eyes changes from sassy annoyance to one of shock and desire when I, without breaking eye contact, lean down slightly and spit directly onto her already wet pussy.

Diving down to clean up my mess, I eat her out with the fervor and pressure she clearly has been wanting. I’m met with a shocked moan and strong arching hips almost fighting against me to push further into my mouth. I lick up and down her folds, concentrating my lips on her clit.

I manage to keep my girlfriends hips down just long enough for her breath to pick up again, her thighs to start to squeeze around my head, and her hand to push me almost painfully close into her cunt, my nose barely peaking out over her warm mound.

Just as she sucks in a gasp of air, telling me she’s close, I pull away. “No, fuck you oh my god no,” she says, pleading. Her hand that was resting by her side comes up to cover her face, pushing loose hair out her eyes and brow. I smile at her frustration, it meaning she felt good. But I can make her feel better.

I kiss the thigh directly to my right softly, a small sign of remorse for my angry girlfriend. “Babe I swear to god if you don’t-“ I cut off her whining by sucking on her clit, hard. Her protest turns into a moan, half silenced by her hand now over her mouth. Gently flicking and pinching her nipples along with my mouth practically devouring her pussy, it’s not a surprise when my girlfriends heavy breathing picks up again, her thighs fight against my tight hold, and her back begins to arch just slightly. I hear a flurry of small curse words mumbled under her breath get more and more frequent. I press on her toned lower stomach gently, knowing the pressure inside her surely clenching cunt might’ve been enough to push her over the edge into pure pleasure. If I didn’t stop my movements and pull away. Again.

She punches the bed next to her, getting more than frustrated now. “Please oh my god I was so fucking close,” she says through spit slick and bitten lips, her eyes almost glassy. Cait rarely bottomed, let alone pleaded with me.

I kiss up her abs again, knowing her frustration at me is only because of her denied pleasure. Clearly she’s sobered up enough now to be vocal about what she wants, because by the time I get to her tits she’s talking again.

“Babe I am so serious what the fuck was that for I’ve been good I didn’t even move that much I just wanted you to-“ by the time I’ve reached her neck, I slide my middle two fingers into her rapidly moving mouth, effectively shutting her up. Despite her anger, Caitlin eagerly sucks on my fingers again, her warm mouth enveloping the metal and my nails. I sit myself atop her abs, maintaining eye contact as I push my fingers deeper that she can comfortably take, sliding them back out halfway before she gags.

I continue this motion until the fire in her eyes has dimmed slightly, showing me she won’t fight me when I slide a third finger into her mouth. My pointer finger however, doesn’t just have her beloved wrap around spoon ring, but a simple twisted band sits past my first knuckle, halfway down my finger. She clearly feels it on her tongue, because her eyes flutter slightly when it brushes far back in her mouth.

Submitting before me, I let myself rest and put my whole body weight on her torso, knowing the strong girl beneath me won’t be hurt by my smaller frame. (I’m totally not transported back to when she made me grind on her abs without any help as punishment for leaving a hickey so far down on her thigh it peaked out her basketball shorts. Thankfully it could’ve been mistaken as a small bruise but she was annoyed nonetheless.)

I decide she’s coated my fingers well enough, pulling out until only the very tips rest inside her mouth again. The pretty brunette takes in large gulps of air, spit dripping out of her mouth with every pant. Without moving myself, I reach the saliva covered hand behind me, and in once swift motion plunge two dripping nimble fingers inside my girlfriend.

Her reaction is instant, finally receiving what she’s been begging for, and so intently focused on. “Oh shit,” she says, I’m assuming mainly at the fact that the rings she’s been obsessing over and asked me to keep on were now inside of her, assisting me inside her tight walls. The pace of my middle two fingers pick up, causing her to arch slightly despite my weight on her torso.

“See? Was it so hard to be patient?” I say slightly teasing, grinding my hips forward to stop her from giving me a sassy remark. Caitlins large hands encase my hips, guiding me slightly forward and backward while I continue my relentless pace inside her. The pressure of her flexing abs beneath me combined with her poorly held back moans and breathy sighs when I curl my fingers up into her g spot were enough to send shocks of pleasure up into me, even through my underwear.

My hand begins to hurt uncomfortably from the awkward angle and speed, but I wouldn’t dare slow my grinding or my movements inside her. I plant my hand on her chest, using it as leverage to push myself onto her lower stomach. My hips now act as external pressure, eliciting a whine from my girlfriend. She turns her head to the side, panting with her eyes shut.

A constant buzz of pleasure fills me, so I decide to add a third finger to further Caitlin along.

“Thank you,”Is what I receive in return, the cool metal of my spoon ring and knuckle ring now deep inside her. My third finger was clearly what she needed to amp up her pleasure.

“How long?” I ask.

“What?” She says, clearly confused and fuzzy from the stimulation. “How long have you wanted this,” I slow my movements, hoping to get an answer.

She meets my eyes for just a moment, but lays her head back again and closes them, licking her lips in avoidance. I press my fingers into her as deep as they can reach, hard. She gasps.

“It doesn’t-“ another thrust, “it doesn’t matter okay.”

I stop my movements all together.

“Answer my question and you can finish, prettygirl,” I drawl, hoping the pet name I knew as her weakness would help my case.

“I said-“ she starts sassily, I begin to pull my fingers out at her denial.

“Wait wait fuck, no okay,” she rushes out, meeting my eyes desperately and trying to reach past my hip to grab my wrist unsuccessfully. I raise my eyebrows, keeping my fingers half out of her, feeling her pulse around the tips.

She takes a few steadying breaths, and opens her mouth to talk while still turning her head away from me. A simple glide of my hand off her chest and onto her chin allows me to turn her to look at me. “I won’t ask again, how long have you wanted my rings to stay on.”

“A while…” she appears to be thinking hard despite her clear embarrassment, “probably since that day in the car.” She says.

I wrack my brain as to what she’s referring to, and recall a late night drive turned quick fuck in the backseat after I said I couldn’t sleep.

She had ridden my fingers in my lap with her hand around my neck, not choking me but it was the thought that I knew she could that did it. She had sat herself atop my thighs, only taking the time to take off my middle two rings before sinking herself down onto my fingers, her own already working me up for my second orgasm. It was a rushed affair full of bitten lips, necks left bruised and seats left stained. Cait had confessed to me while driving that she thought about what it would be like to be rougher with me, leaving more marks and even choking.

This night however, was over three weeks ago, and we had fucked many times after that (many incorporating her rougher thoughts).

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted them inside you,” I whisper, leaning down slightly to take the weight off my hips, but also to force her to keep looking at me.

“Didn’t know if it’d be okay and…” she trails off. I give her a moment before she gathers any courage she has left and finishes, “it meant having to ask you to keep them on, and bottoming at the same time and that’s just- I can’t just-“ she sighs, clearly embarrassed and frustrated.

“From now on I want you to tell me if there’s something like this on your mind, okay? And besides,” I lean down close to her ear, making her breath hitch, “you’re so fuckin pretty when you’re flustered.” I make my point by plunging my fingers back into her, and she gasps before I kiss her neck, sitting back up.

I return to my relentless pace, hoping to actually make her finish after all this teasing and edging.

With all three decorated fingers now seated deep inside her wet, pulsing cunt, I bring my thumb up to circle her clit. The closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a true moan from my girlfriend graces my ears, spurring me to start grinding again.

Minutes into this process, she bucks her hips hard enough to make me gasp. Her thighs start to shake a steady rhythm. Each time I would push back in, her hips would grind down into my hand, and her strong thighs would twitch when I began to pull back out. Her gasps and breathing turned to swears and whines, telling me she was close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I’m- babe don’t stop, please I swear don’t stop I’ll be good don’t stop,” she repeats a mantra of cuss words and pleas the closer she gets to finishing. Her promise of being good is new, but we’ll come back to that. Her slick is already pouring out of her and onto my stiffening hand.

I wouldn’t dream of denying her again. Besides, she’s strong, and scary when she’s mad.

Her legs bend inwards, head thrown back, mouth gasping and attempting to form words, and she finishing on my hand with a loud whine as her nails dig into my hips. I feel her cunt squeeze around all three fingers, her cum making each of them slide in and out as I keep my steady pace, bringing her through her second -but well deserved- orgasm. Her twitching and clear pleasure sends me over the edge with her, my own body tensing and arching on top of hers.

The thought of what we look like from the outside keeps the shockwaves of pleasure coming.

Finally, I slow my grinding and fingers to a stop, catching my breath a moment before I fall over. My girl looks fucked out beneath me, and I see a single tear track run down the side of her face.

I slowly pull my fingers out of her, which causes Caitlin to open her eyes like it was the hardest thing ever. I make sure she’s looking when I suck her juices off my fingers, going back in with my tongue to get her cum from around my rings.

I finally find the energy to roll off her, keeping my arm strewn across her rib cage as we both catch our breaths. “You did so good baby,” I say, kissing her cheek and moving closer to her warm body that was glistening with sweat. A soft “mhm,” is all I get in return, exhaustion clearly plaguing my girlfriend.

“You gotta go pee sweet girl,” I say softly, moving hair out of her face and eyes. “Of course after fucking me within an inch of my life the first thing you’re thinking about is a UTI,” Caitlin laughs with her voice taking on a rougher note, telling me she was louder than I thought.

“I’ll take it you liked it then?” I tease. “Yeah you asshole, I did,” she says in response, referencing my edging and mean tactics. I smile, kissing her cheek, followed by her temple and forehead. My hands tenderly rub over her stomach and hips as I try to soothe any other aches.

Finally she pulls away from my grasp, heading towards her adjoining bathroom.

While Caits gone, I take off my rings finally, making a mental note to wash them really well later, and slip under the covers, removing my soaked underwear in the process. Her warm body slides into the bed next to mine, her long arms enveloping me in a blanket of comfort, despite our earlier actions.

She speaks first, “I do trust you, you know that.” I wait for her to continue, “It’s just hard for me to say what I want to say, you make me nervous you know.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this fragile confession wasn’t it. I turn in her arms to face her. My hands find her face immediately, her vulnerable eyes finding mine in return. I stare into her beautiful features for a moment, just savoring this bubble of time. “I’ll always be patient with you when it matters,” is all I softly say, hoping she gets my message.

“Besides, you’re always in charge, what’s wrong with me making you nervous for once.” I joke. This makes Caitlin laugh, her hands ghosting over my back. She kisses me softly, melting my body and soul into hers. She’s the first to pull away after a few heartbeats, “I love you,” she whispers into my lips.

I kiss her again before replying, “I love you too, even if you think I’m scary.”

“Woah now I said you make me nervous, ain’t no one afraid of your 5’6” ass.” She says through small laughter. I pretend to act offended, even turning my head towards the ceiling to avoid her.

Her gentle hand cups my jaw, turning my face back towards her before saying, “I love your ass though if that counts for anything.” Her comment earns her a slap on the bicep and a disapproving head shake, even if I’m smiling ear to ear throughout my scolding.

She pulls me closer before I can say anything else. So close it feels like she’s trying to weld our hearts together, my head tucked into her neck and hers resting on my shoulder.

Eventually I hear her breathing even out, and I too join her in dreamland to the thought of how lucky I am to have a girl like Caitlin, even if I’m scary.

[skyahri]

And Suddenly |BNHA Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Shouta Aizawa, Dabi/Touya Todoroki, and Katsuki Bakugou

Summary: They proposition you for a baby.

Warnings: NSFW themes. Straight up fucking, leading to sex, foul language, you get it. Reader in Dabi's is NOT of sound mind lol.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Shouta Aizawa

He doesn't know what prompted this line of thinking. Nothing had happened, no one had mentioned anything. No, this was all 100% his own doing, and that almost made it worse.

Over the years, you'd occasionally claim to have something called 'baby fever'. There would be days when you'd send him videos of babies babbling, playing, wearing silly outfits, whatever of the sort. You'd tell him your ovaries were aching, that you wanted nothing more in that moment than to have one of your own.

Being the man of reason he is, he'd always tell you that now wasn't the time. Hero work was grueling and your studies kept you busy. You'd assure him that the feelings were always (mostly) fleeting, hormones and all that, and the conversation would end there.

It had always been one-sided, that is, until a few weeks ago when he'd finally gotten a taste of said fever. Let's just say he was not a fan.

Nothing had changed, yet he found himself hyperaware of every little human in his vicinity. It's like his brain did a complete turn around. Brief glances quickly turned into longing stares. He'd internally coo over their tiny socks and bright smiles. Hell, he'd even caught himself waving at a little girl in her stroller the other day and was still living off the high he felt when she giggled and waved back.

He'd only been getting by on the idea that this was temporary. That like you, it'd be all better soon and he can go back to enjoying the simple things in life without his brain badgering him.

But that was weeks ago, and the feeling had only solidified further into his mind.

He tried to reason himself back to normal, but was finding it increasingly difficult to do so. You graduated two years ago and have a great job in your field. He had long surpassed the rookie stage of his career and was thriving. You lived in a decent apartment in a good neighborhood. Money was no longer tight and you'd built quite the safety cushion.

And then there was you. Again, nothing had changed overnight, but he was suddenly plagued by vivid visions of you. How easily he could get you pregnant. How you'd look so sinfully pretty with a round belly. How he'd love nothing more than to take care of you while you gave him the greatest gift he could ever hope to receive.

And he knew you'd love nothing more.

Honestly, he was having a hard time finding reasons not to cave into his desires. Which is how he suddenly found himself in such a position.

He's hovering above you, his red tinted face illuminated by the moonlight. He has your hand pinned to the mattress at an awkward angle, but neither of you are willing to move to fix it. He's darting between your eyes, words caught in his throat and no way to get them out.

Thinking and doing are two very different things, and he hadn't planned on bringing this up at all, let alone right now.

"Don't."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not quite understanding what's going on. One moment he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck and over your collarbones. You're fumbling around, trying to reach for the top drawer of the nightstand when his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Shouta, what-"

"Don't bother with it."

He leans down to recapture your lips, but you use your free hand to stop him in his tracks. Your eyes narrow a bit as you try to get a read on him. He usually has little tells that give away how he's feeling, but right now you can't decipher any of them. He looks just as lost as you feel.

"I haven't been taking any kind of birth control."

"I know."

"Then why are you-"

"I want a baby."

Your eyes widen and breath falters. Your hand falls from his shoulder to lay flush against your chest.

"I don't understand. You said we weren't ready."

"That was then, and this is now."

"Shou."

Despite the serious look you give him, your insides are on fire. Sure, the intense and urgent feelings associated with baby fever were always fleeting, but that didn't mean that was the only time you'd felt the desire. You always wanted a family- a husband and kids to love and cherish- and Shouta knew that.

Now here he was, telling you that after a lifetime of friendship, four years of dating, and four more years of marriage, you could finally have what you've always wanted.

He leans back enough to sit on his calves and stare down at you. He seems more sure of himself now. Whatever turmoil he had been going through earlier had subsided, and he was left more confident in his decision. He swallowed hard and fiddles with his hand a bit before deciding to rest both of them on your open thighs.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I thought it would pass, but it just got stronger. I tried talking myself down, but there's nothing stopping us anymore. We're both willing and wanting, so just..."

He's leaning back down, and this time, you don't stop him. You let him kiss you, let him trace his rough hands up your sides, let him claim you with no reservations, all while the condoms sit untouched in the nightstand.

Touya Todoroki / Dabi

Dabi had a tendency to ramble. Sometimes to himself, sometimes to whoever would listen, and sometimes he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Sex was no different.

What he says all boils down to the kind of mood he's in. If he's angry or frustrated, he'll degrade you. He'll call you a whore, tell you that you're desperate and whiney, and will shove your face into the pillow in an attempt to shut you up so he can hear himself speak. If he's in a decent mood (or being generous, as he puts it), he'll praise you. He'll mumble sweet nothings in your ear, tell you how pretty you are, how lucky he is to have you.

All of that is fine. You're more than willing to take whatever he wants to give, but lately he'd taken on an entirely different type of rant.

The first time he mumbled something about getting you pregnant, you didn't think much of it. All men succumb to their instincts at one point or another, and Dabi wasn't excluded from that. But then he mentioned it again a few days later, this time with a little more heat behind it.

You didn't say anything, instead deciding to live in your own little fantasies as long as he wasn't being reckless. Maybe that was a mistake on your part, because it's only a few weeks later that he's completely invested in the idea.

Knees pressed firmly to your chest, he's drilling into you with a new kind of passion. His forehead is against yours, his eyes screwed shut as he clutches at the backs of your thighs. You can't hear all of what he's saying over the sound of skin on skin, but it's enough to have you slightly worried.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up so full."

"Bet I could get you pregnant on the first try."

"I'd take such good care of you."

"I'd be everything he wasn't, give my kids the life they deserve."

Desires to fuck you full have quickly become promises to succeed. Your fucked out brain is urging you to stop him, that he sounds a little too serious right now, but you can't find it in yourself to comply. Dabi is, without a single doubt, completely fucked in the head. This is something you're entirely too aware of and should be the thing willing you to fucking stop him, but it's not.

So you let your mind relax. You throw yourself full force into the feeling of him hitting that spongey spot deep inside. You let him kiss you and touch you and listen to all the little promises he makes.

It's no surprise when he doesn't pull out. You don't say anything when he moves to lay beside you and he doesn't bring it up. Maybe it's some kind of unspoken agreement, or maybe you were thinking too far into what very well may just be a kink. Only time will tell.

Katsuki Bakugou

"Did you seriously not pack any condoms?"

"Why the Hell would I?"

"Is that a serious question?"

You shoot him an incredulous look. He ignores you as he enters the bathroom and begins to strip out of his suit. You follow him, careful not to snag your dress on any of the luggage stacked against the wall.

You glare at him, even as he motions for you to turn around and unzips you. The white fabric bunches at your ankles and he's quick to pick it up and hang it inside the plastic dry-cleaning bag.

"Is that a serious question? You're my wife now, I'm not wearing any more fucking condoms."

"Well, you should've said that before we got here so I could've prepared something else!"

"Why the Hell would you need to do that?"

He scoffs at you and continues hanging his suit up, folding it as nicely as possible to avoid damaging the expensive material. Any sort of frustration you're feeling has been replaced by confusion. You feel like you're having two entirely different conversations.

When he finally turns back around to face you, he's staring down at you like you're the one being unreasonable. Like he doesn't understand why any of this could possibly be an issue.

"So, what? You planned on hitting raw for the next two weeks and just praying for the best?"

"No. I planned on hitting raw for the next two weeks and prayed we'd go home pregnant."

Your mouth snaps shut. Any fighting spirit you possessed is gone in an instant and you're left at his mercy. He places one hand on the wall near your head and sets the other on the counter. He's looming over you, using his size to intimidate you.

"That's what we agreed on all those years ago, right?"

At first, you don't know what he's talking about. You racked your brain for any semblance of the topic, but when you came up short, you couldn't help but think he might be bullshitting you. Just as you're about to ask him for clarification, you remember a conversation you had not long after graduation.

You'd both had sidekick positions lined up right out of high school. Your careers were up and coming and your relationship was strong. While you were happy with the pace things were going, it didn't stop his parents from pestering you about next steps.

It was probably the hundredth time Mitsuki had asked you about grandkids. You'd given her plenty of reasonable reasons why kids were most definitely not in the cards right now- career opportunities, money, not to mention the fact that you were both nineteen and not even married yet- but none of that seemed to deter her.

"If not now, when can I expect some grand-babies, hm? I'm not getting any younger and neither are you."

"How about we focus on getting engaged and married first, then we can start talking kids."

She accepted the answer, albeit reluctantly, and backed off a bit. Later that night Katsuki had cornered you, asking how you had finally managed to get his mother off his back.

"I told we'd have to get married first."

The memory is foggy after so many years, but it's there. It was a passing conversation, an unimportant day, but it's the only time either of you had mentioned a 'when' regarding kids.

"You know, when I said we'd have to get married first, I didn't mean we'd start the same day."

He scowls and closes in on you further. He adjusts his position so you're pushed against the bathroom counter and you're suddenly very aware of just how little clothing you're both wearing. His hands land on your thighs and slowly make their way up. He grips your waist and lifts you onto the cool marble so he can stand between your legs.

"I think I've waited long enough."

Let's just say you end up with two very bold, very pink lines on the pregnancy test a few weeks after you return home.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Humping it up on hump day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You taste the cocktail and make a face. As sweet as it is, the alcohol is stringent in your throat. You set the glass down as Bucky’s fingers tap on his pint. You glance up, surprised to find him watching you. 

"Don't like it?" He asks. 

"Mm, no, I mean yes. No." You stutter out. "It's good, I just... don't drink much." 

"She's a good girl." Your mom teases. "I always had to push her out the door. Oh, don't even ask about prom." She grabs his forearm and cackles. "You would think buying a dress would be fun. Nope. I think she'd have rather gone to the dentist." 

Your cheeks turn hot. Four years past and you still cringe at the fitting room torture. You look down and fiddle with the cutlery wrapped in a red napkin. You really wish she wouldn't treat you like a child. You suppose at times you might act like one. 

"Those things can be tough. I barely remember mine. Only went so my buddy didn't feel like such a loser," Bucky shrugs. "But look at how far you've come. I'm sure high school is like a blip on the radar. Now the real fun begins, huh?" 

You know he's trying to help and you appreciate. But it only makes your chest tighten. The dread throbs in your temples. Life, it's all ahead of you but you have no idea where to start. 

"Yeah, I... I barely remember." You talk to the table. 

"She's a smart one," your mom praises. "I really lucked out. No teenage angst, no rebellion." 

You chew your lip and pick at the trim of the table. You sound lame. You are and you never minded the safety of that trait. Still, you'd like to be known as more than a boring little bookworm. 

"Okay, here we are." The server rescues you from further humiliation. "Chicken caesar." 

She puts your salad in front of you, "cheese steak sammy and macaroni salad." She lays a plate in front of Bucky, "and the sizzling fajitas." 

Another server appears with a wooden plank, set with a cast iron pan atop it and fixings; tortillas, salsa, guac. It smells delicious but you know it's too early for all that. You'd be even sleepier and you still have to get unpacked.  

"Enjoy," the waitress smiles and struts away. 

You unwrap your cutlery and use the knife and fork to shred the lettuce. You should've known better than to order salad. It's always so awkward to eat with others around to see. 

"Mm, pretty good," Bucky says. "Lauren, how's that extravaganza? Really went all out." 

"Wasn't expecting all this." Your mother scoops grilled peppers into a tortilla, daintily with her fork as her nails shine in the light. You remember when you asked to get a manicure and she said they were impractical... 

She's changed but you don’t feel all that different than when you left for college. Maybe you should have tried harder. Well, it's not like your life is over. Far from. 

"How about you?" Bucky prompts and once more you meet his gaze with a startled blink. You nod and swallow. 

"Good. Just boring old salad." You say. 

"Always chicken caesar," your mother chirps. "Creature of habit. Don't worry. You'll hardly be surprised. By tonight, she'll have one of her books and you won't hear another peep." 

You bite down on your tongue. You're not sure anymore if she's bragging or she's chiding you. Her life is so exciting now. Her hair is highlighted, her nails are filled, and her makeup... she's actually wearing makeup. 

"Didn't think you could work with those." You say as she catches her nail on her napkin. 

"Oh, yeah, I'm not in the ward anymore. Sweetie, didn't I tell you? I do clinicals now. I just show the new ones what to do. Not much hands-on stuff." 

"Uh, I remember. Sorry." 

"Too sharp," Bucky chuckles. "Can't even hold her hand without getting clawed." 

She jabs him with her shaped tip and he grunts. They laugh together and you look around. You're the sore thumb sticking out. Ever the third wheel. Even when you had 'friends', you sat on the sidelines, confused by their inside jokes. 

"It's very good. Thank you." You sit forward and focus on the salad. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can do exactly what your mom expects. Hide with a book. Alone. 

🩵

Home is always a comforting sight but not as much as you expect. A flicker of guilt sparks in your chest. Bucky just bought you lunch, you shouldn’t be so negative. Still, you just want to unwind after a long day of traveling. 

As much as you want him to just go, you would never say as much. Your mom seems happy with him. She even seems healthier. It’s nice to see her taking care of herself, she’s done enough of that for others for too long. 

You get out of the car but Bucky’s too fast. He has you bag in his hand before you can react to the trunk opening. He smiles and insists, “I got it. You lead the way.” 

“Mm, I could nap about now,” your mother calls over the car roof. 

You agree internally. The whole train ride, you looked forward to burying yourself in blankets and leaving the world behind. It would be rude to do so with company around, even if they aren’t yours.  

You follow your mom to the front door and she unlocks it with a yawn. You enter and slip your shoes off on the mat. Things are different. Not too different, you can’t quite place everything. Yet you notice that the coat rack has been replaced with mounted hooks across the wall and the rug at the bottom of the stairs is new. 

“Oh!” Your mom spins, surprising you before you can sneak past her. “I forgot about your surprise!” 

You look at her then over your shoulder at Bucky as he plunks down your bag. You wait for him to respond. He just offers a small curve of his lips. You turn back. 

“You,” your mom taps your nose. “Come on. Ah,” she waves around you at Bucky, “bring her bag with you.” 

Your mom grabs your arm and ushers you upstairs. You can’t resist, too swept up in fatigue and confusion. He follows behind you. What’s happening? 

“Okay. I hope you like it,” she goes to your door and your stomach flips. Oh no, what did they do? She swings the door open and backs up, waving inside, “tada!” 

You hesitate but make yourself step into the doorway. You glance around and your mouth slowly falls open. You blink at the room. Wow. 

It’s not awful, just another change you’re not ready for. Instead of your old rectangle bookcases, new circle ones have been built into the walls; white instead of brown. Your bed is the same but the wood is newly re-stained and the bedding is shade of pink you wouldn’t necessarily choose. A heart shaped rug is spread across the floor and your previous desk has been replaced with one that folds into the wall. 

There is an entirely new piece that stands out. A vanity in the corner. The mirror is the same shape as the carpet and the stool has a fluffy seat. 

“Oh, wow...” you utter as you step further inside. 

“Bucky is so handy! I always wanted to do this but I didn’t know where to start. Oh, just wait until you see his place,” she rambles as she trails you. “He built the whole thing himself.” 

“I had help,” he tuts and sets your bag down. “Tried not to do too much but just added a fresh coat to everything.” 

You’re silent.  

“Sweetie?” Your mom touches your arm. 

“I’m... surprised. That’s all.” 

“She’s speechless, Bucky!” She squeals and claps her hands. “I knew she’d love it.” 

“Heh, yeah. Well, I hope it isn’t too much.” He rubs his neck as he looks around. “You can let me know. I can change whatever you need.” 

“No, no, it’s really nice. Like really. I...” you wring a finger in your other hand. “Thank you.” 

“Lauren,” he sidles past you and nudges your mother gently. “Why don’t we let her get settled in? I’m sure she’s beat from the road.” 

“Right, right,” she beams around the room before she faces him. “Of course.” She glances over at you, “sweetie, let us know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Mom, I’m fine.” You show your teeth sheepishly and hover around the wall. 

Bucky leaves first, your mom following as she cranes to stare at the room. She leaves you with an excited wiggle and you go to close the door behind her. Once it’s shut, you sigh. You weren’t ready for any of this. Somehow coming home has proven even more disjointing than going away to college. 

You plod to the bed and flop onto it. You roll onto your back and let your eyes rove. It is so cute. You would have killed for a room like this in high school, even on campus. Yet it does seem a lot. You’re sure once you get a job, your mom doesn’t expect you to stay too long. 

Maybe this is a good thing. A little less pressure on you to get out but not exactly. With Bucky hanging around, you can’t help but be in the way. You’re not the only one who needs to adjust to your return. 

You can worry about it all later. For now, you need to close your eyes and stop thinking. 

🩵

The afternoon wears on as you dawdle away on your phone. You can barely keep your eyes open as the screen glares back at you. It’s almost six when you make yourself stop the addictive word game.  

You lay listless, trying to urge yourself to get up and do something. You lose the battles as your eyes close and you drift off without realising it. In your subconscious, you’re just as you are in reality. Just lying there, motionless and mindless. 

You wake slowly as pressure squeezes in your pelvis. Your bladder forces you to action. Even with the painful weight throbbing inside, you move without urgency. You sit up slowly, dizzy from the unexpected doze. You stand and shuffle to the door. 

You leave it open as you go into the hall and let your feet guide you. Habit takes down to the bathroom door and you reach for the handle. It turns from the other side and you recoil in surprise. Bucky stops short as he emerges and apologises. 

You stammer as you gape back at him. Somehow after the whirlwind morning, you forgot all that change. In your grogginess, you didn’t see the new walls or the white bookcases or think. 

“S...Sorry...” you murmur.  

You’re consumed in radiating heat as you stare at the stubble along his neck. Any lower and he might be embarrassed. He is shirtless after all. You’ve never been the best at looking people in the face but you have no choice. You examine his silver-streaked hair, slightly tussled, and his grizzly beard with its dusting of white along his chin. 

You step back as he raises a palm and dips his head. “No problem. Gotta get used to each other, I guess. Bad timing, is all.” 

“Right,” you agree dully. 

He looks back at you and his forehead creases. “You okay?” 

You wince. “Yeah, why?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Just... you look... a little out of it.” 

“I fell asleep,” you run your fingers along your throat nervously. The motion catches his eyes. Their startling blue hue gleam in the light. 

“Right. I figured you needed it. Long ride...home.” His gaze flicks up to meet yours. “Sorry you’re stuck here with us boring old people. You probably miss it already.” 

You shrug, “not really.” 

“Not really? What about your friends?” He rests his hand on the door frame and leans. 

“Didn’t... just study buddies. Classmates.” You look away and shift as your bladder aches. 

He clears his throat and stands straight. He steps out of the frame and you jump at his sudden movement. He touches your hip to keep from colliding with you and sidles by. 

“I’ll just get out of your way, baby girl,” He squeezes, his hand lingering for a moment. “Welcome home.” 

He lets go and turns, strutting down the hall as you stand frozen. You hurry forward and shut yourself in the bathroom as you scramble with the sudden agonizing pang. You don’t have time to think, you have to go!