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shelovesosa · 1 month ago

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PATIENT 001. SUGURU GETO

patient!Suguru x f!officer!Reader

Contains : MDNI, Dark (?), personality disorder, SMUT, explicit sex, obsessive, possession, Fingering, oral ( f receiving), p in v, dirty Talk, Making out, mental institution.

cw:13.5k

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering every so often like they were struggling to stay alive. You hated that sound—it reminded you of hospitals, of cold spaces where people were forgotten. This job wasn’t supposed to feel like that. But after five months at Ishimura Psychiatric Facility, you were starting to forget why you’d come in the first place.

You moved down the corridor, past rows of numbered doors with observation windows sealed shut. Some rooms were quiet. Others were not. Screams had become background noise. Whispers, too. The night shift had always been your assignment, but lately, it felt like something was watching from the corners of every hallway. Something unseen. Not ghostly—but human. Raw. Unstable.

Tonight was different.

A file had been handed to you at shift change, its tab labeled in thick black ink: GETO, SUGURU – WARD 12B. You’d never heard the name before. Unusual, given how closely the staff gossiped about patients—especially the difficult ones. But when you asked, they avoided eye contact. One nurse simply said, “He’s new. You’ll see.”

You didn’t like the way she said it.

Ward 12B was restricted to high-risk patients—those with unpredictable episodes, violent histories, or, in rare cases, special classifications. Suguru was marked as the latter. “Split personality,” the notes said. “Unknown trauma. One compliant. One... less so.”

You stood in front of his door now, clipboard pressed against your chest.

Through the tiny glass square, you saw him. Black hair hung loose around his face, long and unkempt. He sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the wall. His hands rested on his knees, fingers twitching slightly as if playing a piano only he could hear. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

You knocked once. Firm, but not threatening.

His head turned.

You expected aggression. Or maybe emptiness. But his dark eyes met yours with a calm stillness, like deep water—quiet but capable of drowning you.

You opened the door slowly, stepping in with practiced caution. “Suguru Geto?”

He didn’t answer. His gaze shifted to the floor.

“I’m Officer Y/N. I’ll be assigned to monitor your behavior this week.” You kept your voice neutral. Not too soft. Not too firm.

Still nothing.

You checked the file again. 'Subject One: Reclusive, nonverbal, avoidant tendencies. Often presents first.' You wondered what that meant exactly. “Are you comfortable?” you asked.

He blinked once. Slowly.

You moved a little closer, cautious but curious. There was something magnetic about his presence—even without words. He had an elegance to the way he sat, an eerie calm that didn’t match the harsh lines of the institution.

And then, without warning, his lips moved.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured.

The voice was soft. Like a violin string drawn slow and low. You blinked, heart tapping against your ribs.

“Why not?” you asked.

He tilted his head to the side, expression unreadable. “Because he likes girls like you.”

Before you could ask what that meant, his body jerked. It wasn’t violent. More like a ripple passed through him. His posture shifted, relaxed. Then a slow smirk spread across his face.

And the second he looked at you again, you knew he wasn’t the same.

“Well, well,” the new voice said—deeper, smoother, cocky. “Finally. Someone worth looking at.”

You took a step back.

“Suguru?” you asked, more to ground yourself than him.

He grinned, pushing himself off the floor with too much ease. “Depends on who you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

His whole demeanor had changed. Gone was the quiet boy facing the wall. This one walked toward you with a swagger, a spark in his eye that dared you to stop him.

You should’ve pressed the emergency button on the wall. You should’ve called in backup. But something about the shift—something about him—made your breath catch instead.

“I’ve been bored out of my mind in here,” he said, circling you like a predator. “But you… you're interesting. Pretty. I like your eyes. Bet you’re fun when you’re off duty.”

He was close now. Too close.

And then just like that, he turned away, laughing as he threw himself back on the bed like none of it mattered.

“Tell the doc I’m fine,” he said. “Better, even. Now that you’re here.”

You watched him, unsettled. The way his energy flipped. The way your pulse raced.

Suguru Geto wasn’t a patient. He was a storm. And you were standing in the eye of it.

You requested the night shift yourself.

It wasn’t protocol for an officer to stay stationed outside a single patient’s room—but after what happened during your first encounter with Suguru, the supervisor made an exception. “Observe and document,” he said. “Only intervene if necessary. And don’t speak unless spoken to.”

You wondered how long that rule would last.

Ward 12B was quieter tonight. Most patients had been sedated after dinner. The hallway lights dimmed automatically after ten, casting everything in soft hues of green and blue, like the inside of an aquarium. You sat just outside his room, back against the wall, journal in hand. The door was closed but unlocked, observation glass at eye level.

Inside, Suguru was pacing.

Not the arrogant one. Not him.

This was the quiet version again.

His steps were small, calculated. He walked the room like it was a cage, tracing the same path over and over, fingers brushing along the wall as if feeling for something invisible. You couldn’t tell if he knew you were watching—but you felt like he did.

You wrote it down.

10:24 p.m. – Subject pacing. Silent. Facial expression neutral. Possible distress?

He suddenly stopped.

You froze mid-sentence.

Then he turned—slowly—and stared straight through the window. His eyes met yours with the same unreadable intensity as before, and even through the glass, it felt like his silence could crawl into your skin and rearrange something inside of you.

Your hand tightened around the pen.

He moved to the door.

Then he knocked.

Once. Twice. Three soft taps.

Your heart stuttered. You stood, hesitated, then cracked the door open half an inch.

“Yes?” you asked.

His voice was different now. Not the flirt. Not the mocking tone. Just a whisper.

“Can I ask you something?”

You stepped in cautiously. He was barefoot, standing near the wall where he’d been tracing his fingers. His shoulders were slightly hunched, like he didn’t want to take up space.

“You can ask,” you said, “but I might not answer.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Do you… remember dreams?”

You frowned. “Sometimes.”

He looked away. “I think I had one. But it didn’t feel like mine.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak in his own rhythm.

“There was a garden. A white dog. It had something in its mouth… something bleeding.”

The room felt colder suddenly.

You stepped closer. “Was anyone else in the dream?”

His lips parted like he was about to say something, but then—something changed.

His body stiffened.

And then he blinked, and when his eyes opened again—

There he was.

The flirt. The player. The storm.

“Oh come on,” he said, a smirk curling on his lips. “You really bought into that tortured poetry thing? The whole bleeding dog in a dream act?”

You stepped back immediately.

“Did you fake that?” you asked, voice sharper now.

“Does it matter?” he said, tilting his head. “You came in. You’re here. That’s all I need.”

He stepped toward you, slow and unhurried. A hunter with time to kill.

“I get it, though,” he said, eyes raking over you like you were something to be unwrapped. “You like the broken ones. The quiet boys with sad eyes. But what about me, huh?”

He was in front of you now, so close you could smell the faint traces of lavender soap they made all patients use. “What if I’m the real one? What if I’m the part you should be scared of?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

And then—

“Step back,” you said, voice firm. “Now.”

His expression flickered. Not with fear. Not even surprise. With interest.

Then he smiled.

“Mm. There she is,” he purred. “Didn’t think you had that in you.”

He backed away without a fight, hands raised in mock surrender. But even as he retreated, his eyes never left yours.

“I’ll be seeing you, sweetheart,” he said as he dropped back onto the bed. “One of us will.”

You closed the door. Locked it behind you this time.

You leaned against the wall, pulse hammering in your ears. And though you were alone in the corridor, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still staring.

And somewhere deep inside your chest, a quiet question stirred— Which one of them was real?

The alarms went off at exactly 3:03 a.m.

Your pen dropped. A red strobe light blinked above the hallway. Loudspeakers echoed down the tiled corridor: “Code White. Patient absence detected. Sector 12B. All units respond.”

Suguru’s room.

You were already running.

The hallway bent like a crooked spine under the flickering lights, your boots striking hard against the ground. It wasn’t possible. You had locked the door yourself. You had checked it twice.

But when you reached Room 12B, the truth was staring you in the face.

The door was wide open.

Inside, the bed was empty. Sheets undisturbed. No signs of a struggle. The camera in the corner blinked a dead red light—offline.

One of the nurses skidded into the room behind you, pale-faced. “Security’s sweeping the floor,” she said breathlessly. “They think he triggered the breaker for this wing. Half the feeds are down.”

You swallowed hard. “No. He didn’t trigger anything. He planned this.”

Suguru Geto was not just another patient.

There was no time to wait.

You grabbed your flashlight, clipped your keycard to your collar, and moved quickly toward the East annex. It was a dead-end hall, closed off since the renovations last winter. Most staff didn’t go near it anymore. Too cold. Too dark. Too... off.

But something tugged at your gut. A whisper in your spine.

You found the door half open.

Inside, the lights were out. The smell of mold and dust hit you immediately. Paint peeled from the walls in long gray ribbons. Every instinct screamed to call for backup, but something kept your hand away from the radio.

Something about him.

You stepped inside.

“Suguru,” you called softly, sweeping your flashlight across the old rec room.

Silence.

Then a shadow flickered past the beam.

You turned quickly. “Suguru!”

A breath. A shuffle.

Then you saw him—sitting cross-legged on the floor behind an overturned table, like a child hiding from the world. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and for a moment… he looked small.

It was him again.

The quiet one.

“I didn’t mean to scare anyone,” he said softly.

You didn’t move. “Why did you leave your room?”

His eyes barely met yours. “He said he wanted to find her.”

“Her?”

He nodded. “The girl from the dream. With the bleeding dress. He said she’s here.”

You crouched slowly, careful not to get too close. “Suguru, there’s no girl. Just staff. You’re safe here.”

His fingers curled around the edge of the table. “He said she was hiding in someone. Wearing their face. And if we didn’t find her—she’d find us first.”

Goosebumps bloomed up your arms.

He looked at you then—really looked at you—and asked, “Is it you?”

You opened your mouth, but something in his voice made your chest tighten.

Before you could speak, he flinched. His hands gripped his temples. A pained groan escaped his throat.

“No, no, not now—stop—don’t—”

He lurched forward, body seizing briefly, then—

Gone again.

When he looked up this time, the smirk was back.

“Well damn,” he said, stretching his neck like a wolf waking up. “I leave for five minutes and you chase me down? I knew you’d miss me, sweetheart.”

You stood slowly.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said, voice lower. “Disappearing. Playing games.”

“Who said it’s a game?” he murmured, standing up. “Maybe I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

He stepped closer. Closer than he had any right to.

“From him,” he whispered.

You stared at him, heart pounding. “Aren’t you him?”

He smiled—but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The next morning, the order came down from the director himself: "Subject 12B will now be under direct observation for a 48-hour period. One-on-one assignment. No exceptions."

You didn’t argue.

No one else wanted the job anyway.

You sat outside his door again, only this time it was propped open. Two cameras were reinstated, one inside, one outside. Security was on edge, murmuring about how he could've slipped out unnoticed. But they didn’t understand.

He hadn’t slipped.

He’d chosen to disappear. And that was worse.

Suguru lay on his bed now, arms folded behind his head, one ankle crossed over the other like he didn’t have a care in the world. The flirt was awake.

“You know,” he called lazily, “I liked last night. You, chasing me through the dark. You looked hot holding that flashlight.”

You didn’t answer.

He grinned at your silence. “Still mad?”

“I’m not here to entertain you.”

“Ouch,” he said, mock wounded. “And here I thought we were finally bonding.”

You flipped a page on your clipboard, noting his behavior. “Why did you run last night, Suguru?”

He rolled his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “You’re not talking to the right me for that answer.”

“I think I am,” you replied quietly.

That stopped him.

He sat up slowly, gaze sharpening. “Interesting. You think I’m lying?”

“I think you know more than you pretend.”

He laughed under his breath, but there was no humor in it. “That’s rich. You’re stuck with me for two days, and now you think you’ve got it all figured out?”

“I don’t,” you said. “But I’m not scared of you.”

He stood, and just like that, the air in the room changed.

Not violently.

But deliberately.

He walked toward you—not quickly, but with purpose, like every step had meaning. You held your ground.

He leaned in, so close his breath hit your cheek. “Maybe you should be.”

And then—like flipping a switch—he stopped. His shoulders dropped. His mouth opened slightly, as if startled by the distance between you. His hand reached out and hovered near your arm, not touching. Just trembling.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” the soft voice said. The quiet one. “I didn’t want it to go this far.”

You froze.

“You’re back,” you whispered.

He looked down at his hands like they didn’t belong to him. “Sometimes I wake up and he’s already done things. Things I don’t remember.”

Your voice softened. “Can you feel him before he comes?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s like… a shadow under my skin.”

You didn’t speak for a moment.

Then: “Do you want help?”

He blinked, then looked at you, truly looked. “Would you help someone like me?”

Your chest tightened. “I think you’re already helping yourself. You just don’t know how to finish.”

A pause.

Then he sat down on the edge of the bed again, hunched forward, hands clasped tightly. “He likes you. I can feel it.”

“I know,” you said.

“But I think… I think I do too.”

You didn’t write that part down.

You stayed later than your shift required. Not because you were ordered to, not because anyone asked—but because something in Suguru’s eyes when he said “I think I do too” kept echoing in your chest. It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it wasn’t nothing, either.

The night nurses noticed your silence. The way your fingers hovered over the call button just a second too long before retracting. One of them offered to take your place for the watch. You said no.

You weren’t ready to let anyone else in the room with him yet.

It was nearly midnight when you returned to his door.

Suguru was awake, curled in the corner of his room like a boy who had never learned to sleep properly. He was drawing something with the stub of a pencil—images of hands and mouths, abstract and jumbled, like memories he didn’t understand. You stepped inside without speaking.

He didn’t look up. “I knew you’d come back.”

“I told you I would.”

He set the pencil down, slow and deliberate. “Not everyone keeps their word around here.”

You sat in the chair by the wall. “I’m not everyone.”

He nodded once. “No. You’re not.”

There was a long stretch of silence between you, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt like shared breath. Like dusk pressed between two people who had nowhere else to be.

Then he spoke again.

“Sometimes, he dreams,” he said, voice low. “And I see the pieces when I wake up. He’s not just a monster, you know.”

You blinked. “He?”

“Him. The other me.” Suguru glanced up, hesitant. “He remembers warmth. A woman’s hands. A name he never says. I think… I think something happened to him. To us. Before all of this.”

Your throat felt tight. “Did you ever try asking him?”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “When he comes forward, I disappear. And when I come back, he’s already ruined something.”

You stared at him for a long time.

“I don’t think he wants to hurt you,” you said carefully. “I think he wants you to be seen.”

Suguru’s lips parted. He didn’t respond. Not with words.

But then, in the stillness of the room, he asked the smallest question yet:

“Can you stay?”

It broke something soft and trembling inside you.

You nodded. “For a while.”

He closed his eyes. For once, he didn’t twitch. He didn’t curl away from your presence. He just breathed, and for a moment, it felt like a ceasefire inside his chest.

You didn’t know how long you sat there. Time passed differently in the presence of someone fragile—slow, sacred. It wasn’t until you shifted in your seat that the air changed.

He stirred. But it wasn’t him anymore.

Not the quiet one.

The eyes opened sharper this time. Darker.

“Well,” the flirt drawled, lips curling, “you two getting cozy now?”

Your shoulders tensed. “Don’t ruin this.”

His head tilted. “Ruin what?”

“Whatever that was. The way he trusts me.”

He leaned forward. “Don’t get confused, sweetheart. You think he trusts you? That shy little part? He’s just a boy clutching at whatever light’s nearby. But me?” His grin widened. “I choose to want you.”

You stood. “That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s better.”

You walked to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, without looking back.

“You always do,” he called after you.

But his voice followed you out like perfume—sweet, thick, and dangerous. And for the first time since starting this job, you questioned if staying close to Suguru was saving him…

…or ruining you.

You arrived earlier than scheduled. You told yourself it was to check paperwork, review the footage, confirm medication dosages. But none of that explained why you brought coffee for two—one black, one with cream, the way he liked it when he was the one sitting in control.

Suguru was sitting on the windowsill when you entered.

The flirt was gone. You could tell before a word passed between you.

This was the quiet one—shoulders hunched, knees tucked to his chest, gazing through the reinforced glass like he was searching for someone outside. You gently set the coffee down beside his bed, but didn’t call his name.

You waited.

After a long silence, he spoke.

“I remembered something.”

Your heart skipped.

You crossed the room, crouched down beside him, your voice low. “Tell me.”

“It wasn’t a garden. Not really. The one in the dream.” His eyes stayed fixed on the window. “It was a backyard. Fenced in. Grass too tall. And there was a dog… It didn’t have anything in its mouth. It was just barking. Loud. Over and over.”

You said nothing, letting him unravel it on his own.

“I think… I was hiding. Under a porch or something. Small space. Dirt and wood. I remember the smell.”

His hands curled around the windowsill, knuckles pale.

“There were footsteps. Someone yelling. Not at me—at someone else. A man.”

You asked gently, “Do you remember the words?”

He hesitated. Then:

“You’ll ruin him.”

A chill crept up your spine.

Suguru’s voice broke on the next sentence. “I think that’s when it started. The split. The silence. One of us disappeared to survive, and the other one stayed to fight.”

You reached out slowly, hand brushing his sleeve. “You didn’t ruin anything. You survived.”

He turned to look at you then—and there was something raw in his eyes. Something real.

“I don’t know who I am without him.”

“You’re still Suguru,” you said. “Both sides are. You don’t need to choose between them. You need to understand them.”

You didn’t realize how close you were until his forehead touched yours, just barely, a soft press like a truce. You didn’t pull away.

But the second it became still—too still—you knew.

He was back.

The flirt’s voice brushed your ear like smoke.

“You’re making this harder for him, you know.”

You froze, breath caught.

“You think he needs your comfort? He doesn’t. He needs me. I’m the reason we’re still alive. I’m the one who fought.”

You pulled back, angry now. “You’re also the one who scares him.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I scare you, too. Don’t lie.”

You stood, jaw tight. “Not anymore.”

“Oh?” His grin twisted. “Then why do you flinch when I smile?”

You didn’t answer. You walked to the door.

But before you left, his voice softened just enough to stop you.

“You can’t save him from me,” he said, quiet now. Honest. “You’re already choosing. And I don’t like to be second.”

You didn’t turn around. You just left the room.

But your hands trembled the whole way down the hall.

It started with a locked drawer. You weren’t snooping. You were looking for a form—routine, harmless. But when you found the drawer in Dr. Kaede’s office slightly ajar and a corner of Suguru’s file sticking out, something in your gut twisted.

You told yourself it was protocol. You told yourself you had clearance.

The folder was thicker than any other patient’s. Thick with redacted pages, notes scratched out violently, timestamps missing from observation logs.

And there, tucked between transfer papers and medication schedules, was a name.

Naoe Geto — listed under guardian/contact, then struck through.

No parent information. No emergency contact. No birthday. No photo on file.

But the handwriting on the back of one note caught your eye.

Split began after second incident. Patient exhibited knowledge of injuries sustained while in fugue state. Second personality claims responsibility. Violent protector instinct triggered. Suppress with sedatives until further review.

The date? Four years ago. At his last facility.

And scribbled at the bottom, almost too small to read:

He remembers more than he says.

You returned the file carefully, heart thundering in your ears.

That night, you didn’t sit outside his door. You stepped in and stayed.

Suguru was humming to himself, pacing. The flirt again—smirking, restless, aware of his own gravity. He looked over his shoulder when you entered, all arrogance and gleam.

“Back for another late-night confession?” he asked. “Or are you finally giving in?”

You locked the door behind you.

His eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

“I found your file.”

His smile slipped.

“I know about the second incident. About how he blacked out, and you took over. You protected him.”

For once, he didn’t have a comeback.

You walked toward him, slowly. “You’ve always been trying to protect him, haven’t you? That’s why you act like this. You’re not just angry. You’re afraid.”

His jaw flexed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you stopped him from seeing something he couldn’t handle. I know you keep people away because if someone gets close enough to hurt him again, he won’t come back.”

His breath hitched.

You stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the warmth rolling off his skin.

“I know you’re not a monster, Suguru. Not this version. Not the other.”

He blinked. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because I see you. Not just the quiet one. You.”

The silence between you was sharp, trembling.

Then, so softly it nearly broke you: “No one’s ever said that to me.”

Your hand reached out—just a little. Not touching him. Just there. A choice.

And he made one too. He stepped forward. Not to tease. Not to flirt. But to press his forehead to yours, breathing hard, shaking slightly. No armor. No sarcasm.

Just him.

“If you keep this up,” he whispered, voice raw, “I don’t think I’ll want to give him back.”

Your heart cracked.

“I’m not asking you to.”

The letter arrived on your desk the next morning.

To Officer Y/N L/N: Your recent assignment to Patient 12B is being re-evaluated. There is concern of emotional enmeshment and compromised objectivity. Effective immediately, you are to cease direct overnight monitoring. —Dr. Kaede, Chief Psychiatrist

You read it twice, then folded it once and tucked it into your coat.

It wasn’t a request.

It was a warning.

You sat with it through the day—through stale coffee, through clipped conversations with other staff who now watched you a little too closely. The institution could always tell when someone got too close. It had rules for this.

“Keep your distance.”

“Don’t talk like they’re people.”

“Don’t get attached.”

But they didn’t know Suguru like you did.

They didn’t see what you saw.

That night, you returned anyway.

The nurse at the front desk barely looked up as you passed. You weren’t scheduled. You didn’t care.

You entered his room quietly. The lights were dimmed. Suguru sat on the edge of the bed, head lowered, fingers interlaced like he’d been waiting hours without moving.

He didn’t look up when you spoke.

“They’re trying to pull me off your case.”

A beat.

Then: “Figures.”

It was the flirt. He looked up slowly, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, but it was worn down now—frayed around the edges. Less armor, more exposed wire.

“You told me to stay away once,” you said. “But neither of you meant it.”

“No,” he said softly. “We didn’t.”

You sat across from him, closer this time. He didn’t pull back.

“They think I’ve compromised the boundary,” you said.

He leaned forward, eyes shadowed. “You did.”

Your breath caught.

“You’re not supposed to care about me,” he murmured. “Not either of me.”

You held his gaze. “But I do.”

He exhaled, like something inside him unclenched. “Then you’re more dangerous than I thought.”

You reached for his hand—not the quiet one’s, not the flirt’s. Just Suguru’s.

He let you.

And for a moment, he was silent. Utterly still.

Then he said, “He’s scared, you know. The other me. Scared if you keep coming back, I’ll disappear.”

You squeezed his hand. “And what about you?”

He met your eyes.

“I’m scared you’ll stop.”

The next morning, they moved him. Not far. Just a different wing. A different door. A new guard on his file. But they didn’t tell you. You found out when you showed up for the night shift and his room was empty. And on the whiteboard where his name used to be, someone had written in red:

RESTRICTED. DO NOT APPROACH.

You weren’t supposed to be in Wing D.

It required clearance you didn’t have anymore, a keycard that had been quietly deactivated the morning they moved him. But you were still wearing the uniform. You still walked like you belonged.

That was enough to bluff the new intern at the checkpoint.

You found his room near the end of the corridor—glass window, reinforced lock, nothing personal inside. Cold and clean, like he’d never been there at all.

He was sitting on the cot, knees drawn up, eyes glassy and still.

It was the quiet one.

But something was off.

You stood there for a moment, waiting. Expecting his gaze to shift, to lift at the sound of your voice. Waiting for recognition. The tiny flicker that always bloomed in his face when you entered.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping inside. “They didn’t tell me they were moving you.”

No response.

He didn’t even look up.

You tried again. “I brought you something. It’s just a drawing pencil. They wouldn’t let me bring the coffee.”

Nothing.

“Suguru?”

His head turned slowly, mechanically. He blinked once. Then again.

And then he asked—

“Who are you?”

You stopped breathing.

You moved closer, carefully. “It’s me. Officer L/N. I’ve been with you since the beginning. You—” your voice faltered, “you remember me.”

His expression didn’t shift. “I don’t.”

A pause. His hands trembled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You crouched down in front of him, heart hammering. “No, no. You’re just confused. This is part of it. Sometimes memories slip when one of you retreats. You just need time.”

He flinched at that word. One of you.

“Are there others?” he asked, voice fragile.

Your stomach sank.

He didn’t even know.

Someone had done this. Pushed him down so deep the fractures closed over. Someone had sedated him—or worse. He looked like a painting that had been scrubbed clean.

Empty.

You reached for his hand slowly. “You’re safe. I promise.”

But he pulled away.

“I don’t know you,” he said again, firmer now.

And you knew, then. He wasn’t lying. Whatever piece of him had remembered you—had needed you—was gone.

Or worse, buried.

You left the room in a blur, biting down on the scream in your throat. As the door locked behind you, you saw it: a camera in the corner blinking red.

Someone had watched the whole thing. Someone wanted you to see what happened when you got too close.

You didn’t sleep that night. You went home, sat in your car until the windows fogged, then sat some more. All you could see were his eyes. Vacant. Soft-spoken. Blank. Who are you?

You knew he had two personalities—two sides trying to survive in a world that never gave them the tools to feel safe. But this wasn’t a shift. This wasn’t natural.

It was a wipe.

You returned the next morning in civilian clothes. No badge. No keys. Just questions.

You waited until the security guard at the front turned to chat with the front desk nurse, then slipped into the restricted records room using a code you weren’t supposed to remember.

Room logs. Observation footage. Medicine schedules.

And one word that shouldn’t have been there:

Midazolam. A sedative. Strong. Memory-altering in high doses. Not standard for patient 12B.

And the signature beneath it?

Dr. Kaede. No time. No consultation. No counter-signature.

You backed away from the file like it had burned you.

That night, you returned to Wing D. This time, you weren’t sure what you’d find. But as you stood outside his room, peering through the window, you could feel it before you saw it.

He wasn’t sitting on the bed. He was pacing again. Not slow. Not confused. Predator-smooth. Controlled. Angry.

You unlocked the door quietly. He didn’t look up at first. Then, slowly, he turned. And there he was. The flirt. The fighter.

“Oh,” he breathed, voice ragged. “So they didn’t kill you.”

Your chest rose. “You remember.”

He blinked hard. His smile cracked at the edges. “Not all of it. Just enough to hate what they did.”

You stepped inside.

“I found your file,” you said. “They’re drugging you.”

He nodded once. “Yeah. I figured, when I woke up and felt like I’d been replaced.”

You moved closer. “They’re trying to erase the split. Force you back into one person.”

He laughed bitterly. “Good luck with that.”

“You fought your way out,” you whispered. “You remembered me.”

His voice dropped to something darker, something real. “How could I forget the only person who’s ever seen both of me... and didn’t run?”

And then he stepped closer. Close enough for your breath to catch.

His hand hovered near your face—but didn’t touch. “You’re not scared of me anymore.”

“No.”

“You should be.”

“I know.”

And still, you didn’t move.

His fingers brushed your wrist lightly, almost reverent. “You stayed when he forgot you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

His throat bobbed with the effort not to feel too much.

“You’re the only reason we’re still here.”

You looked up at him, steady. “Then help me fix this.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“I will,” he said. “But you need to understand something.”

You waited.

“If they try to take you away again…” His eyes burned now, no smirk, no grin—just a promise.

“I won’t let them.”

It started with a sketch. You found it under Suguru’s pillow during a routine sweep. Not hidden well, not meant to be. A page torn from the corner of a therapy notebook. Charcoal smudged, lines rushed.

It was of you.

Not perfectly — the face only half-finished, your expression a little too calm, like he wasn’t sure how to draw your fear or your fire. But your posture, the slope of your shoulders, the softness in the way you seemed to look back — it was unmistakable.

You shouldn’t have kept it.

But you did.

You folded it once, tucked it into your jacket, and said nothing.

That night, when you visited, the flirt was gone. Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor, gaze fixed on the wall. He was murmuring to himself — not words, just sounds, like his mind was pacing too fast for his mouth to keep up.

You stepped inside quietly.

“Suguru,” you said gently.

He looked up. Startled. Not at the sight of you — but like he hadn’t expected to exist in the room at all.

His voice was thin. “You’re back.”

“Always.”

He blinked slowly. “He draws you when he misses you.”

You paused. “You both do.”

A flicker of something crossed his face.

“I see him sometimes,” he whispered. “Not as a voice. More like… a pressure. A breath on the back of my neck. When you leave, he comes back.”

You nodded. “And when I return?”

He hesitated. “He wants to touch you.”

The words hung heavy between you.

“And you?” you asked, voice quiet.

He didn’t answer for a long time.

Then: “I want to know what you smell like when you’re not in uniform.”

Your heart stuttered.

It wasn’t a flirtation. It was longing, honest and pure — a sensory detail that told you how closely he watched. How deeply he wondered.

“I want to know if you laugh when no one’s around,” he added, softer. “If you ever cry in your car. If your hands shake when you take your coffee.”

You knelt down beside him, heart aching.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not supposed to,” he whispered, almost ashamed. “I’m not supposed to want you like he does.”

“And yet…”

“And yet,” he repeated, eyes locking with yours, “I do.”

There were no jokes now. No smirks. No distance.

Just Suguru. The quiet one. The wounded one. And the man who, slowly, was letting love become more terrifying than madness.

He reached for your hand — timidly, trembling.

You let him.

And in the silence, you knew the truth neither of them dared say yet: They were both falling for you. And if the institution found out? They’d tear him apart to fix it.

You were called into the conference room without warning.

The door shut behind you with a final-sounding click, and Dr. Kaede was already seated at the far end of the table. A cup of untouched tea steamed beside her stack of files.

She didn’t look up when she spoke.

“Have a seat.”

You obeyed.

She opened Suguru’s file. You saw your own handwriting in some of the margins — updates, behavior notes, even small observations like ‘Responded to touch. Flinched when asked about mother.’

Dr. Kaede tapped her pen against the page.

“We ran a cognitive persistence scan last night after your visit.”

Your stomach dropped.

“You weren’t authorized to—”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Officer.”

You folded your hands in your lap, steadying your voice. “What did you find?”

She finally looked at you.

“Splintering.”

A cold silence filled the space.

“You said there were two,” she continued, “but now we’re seeing evidence of cross-memory bleeding. Flashes from one self appearing in the other's memory lane. Inconsistent emotional anchors. Even dream contamination.”

She paused.

“In simple terms: he’s losing cohesion. The lines between them are thinning.”

You gritted your teeth. “Because you’re forcing them to disappear.”

“No,” she said. “Because you are.”

That stunned you.

“What?”

“You’ve created an emotional link,” Kaede said flatly. “Both personalities are attaching to you. It’s destabilizing him. You’re not a tether — you’re a mirror. And it’s breaking him.”

You stood up.

“I’ve helped him.”

“No, you’ve complicated him.”

She flipped a page, and your breath caught. A scan. Brainwave activity. The two distinct rhythms — the shy one and the flirt — once clean and separate.

Now? They were overlapping. Bleeding into each other.

“If this continues,” she said, “they will consume each other. And when that happens, the core self — whatever’s left of the original Suguru Geto — may disappear entirely.”

You whispered, “So stop the sedatives. Let him balance naturally—”

“We can’t,” Kaede snapped. “If we let this run wild, he’ll either collapse into a singular violent state… or he’ll vanish mentally. Empty.”

Your throat tightened.

“And what’s your solution?” you asked, bitter.

She didn’t blink.

“Separation. Effective immediately.”

“No—”

“He’s being moved to a high-security psychiatric transfer facility tomorrow morning. No visitors. No staff continuity. No more contact.”

You felt the ground tilt.

“You’re erasing him.”

“I’m saving what’s left.”

That night, you didn’t sneak into his room. You ran. Suguru was waiting. Not pacing. Not joking. Just waiting. And when he saw your face, his smirk vanished instantly.

“What happened?”

You fell into him. Into his arms. Into everything. And he caught you like he’d known this would be the night.

“They’re taking you,” you said. “They’re transferring you tomorrow.”

His jaw clenched.

“No.”

“They said you’re breaking down. That the memories are bleeding. That you’ll disappear.”

His voice cracked. “That’s not true.”

“It’s happening, Suguru. You’re merging.”

He was silent.

Then, like it hurt to say it: “He knows.”

You pulled back, heart racing. “What?”

“The other me. He told me last night… in a dream. Or a memory. Or both.” His breath shook. “He said if we fall apart, he hopes you remember us.”

Your hands gripped his shirt. “Don’t let them take you. Fight.”

He looked at you then, really looked — and something terrifying flashed in his eyes.

“I will.”

They came for him at 5:47 a.m.

Two guards. No warning. No sedatives this time—just hand restraints and a tight escort schedule to a black-window van waiting at the back gate of the facility.

You weren’t on shift.

But you were already there.

You had slept in your car again, slouched beneath a thin coat and a thick ache in your chest, eyes locked on the red-lit loading zone outside Wing D. You hadn’t blinked since 5:00.

The moment you saw the guards open his door, you moved.

You didn’t knock. You didn’t hesitate.

You intercepted them in the hallway—almost threw yourself between them and Suguru. One of the guards reached for his baton, and the other barked your name.

“Officer L/N,” he growled. “Step aside.”

“No,” you said. “You’re making a mistake.”

Behind them, Suguru stood still. But his eyes— His eyes were alive. Not glassy. Not blank. Lit with something burning.

“Y/N,” he said. One word, soft and low.

And you knew. It wasn’t just him. It was them. Both of them.

His expression shifted before your eyes. From wide and trembling… to dark and furious. The way he used to smile when he was about to say something dangerous.

“I warned them,” he muttered.

The guards moved to grab him. Then everything unraveled.

He yanked free before they could clamp down. One guard stumbled. The other shouted, reaching for a syringe.

Suguru ducked, twisted, slammed his elbow into the man’s ribs. A breath later, he was standing behind you, chest to your back, arms around your waist, breathing hard.

“Which one are you?” you asked, half-whisper, half-prayer.

His lips brushed your ear.

“Both.”

You froze.

The shy one had never touched you like this. The flirt had never said your name with such reverence. And now—

Now they were here, at once. Sharing space. Sharing voice.

“I can’t leave,” he said, and it sounded like a confession. “Not without you.”

You turned to face him. His pupils were blown wide, his hands trembling against your waist.

“Then don’t,” you whispered. “Run.” And he did.

They issued a facility-wide lockdown five minutes later.

Wing D swept. Doors sealed. Alarms wailed. You stood near the empty hallway where he had last touched you, heart in your throat, the echo of his voice still humming in your skin.

They didn’t know where he went.

But you did.

There was one place Suguru had always studied on the map during his sessions. One door that was never locked properly. One stairwell that fed straight into the woods behind the east wall.

He was coming back. For you. Or maybe he never left.

They put you in the observation room. No handcuffs. No lawyers. Just four white walls, a camera in the ceiling, and a chair that wobbled slightly when you sat.

You’d been here before — when new hires were trained, when patients were questioned under sedation. But you’d never been the one being watched. Dr. Kaede entered without knocking.

She looked at you like you’d murdered someone.

“Where is he?”

You didn’t answer.

She dropped a manila folder on the table — inside, timestamped screenshots from hallway security cams. Suguru gripping your waist. Suguru whispering in your ear. Suguru not resisting.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?”

You lifted your chin.

“I helped someone who was being hurt.”

She scoffed. “You helped a violent schizophrenic with identity fragmentation escape a federally regulated psychiatric ward.”

“He’s not violent,” you snapped.

Her eyes sharpened. “Not yet.”

Silence stretched thin between you. Then, Kaede opened a drawer. She pulled out something small. A folded note.

She tossed it in front of you.

“We found this taped under your desk this morning.”

Your blood ran cold.

You opened the paper.

It was torn from the same therapy journal. Charcoal pencil. One line scrawled in the center in familiar, messy handwriting:

Did you miss me, pretty girl? – S

You bit your lip to hide the tremble. He was here. Still inside. Still watching.

Kaede grabbed the note back. “He’s unstable. Unraveling. And somehow, he’s still managing to access restricted wings, unmonitored corridors, and empty offices without being seen.”

You looked her dead in the eye.

“Maybe you trained him too well.”

That night, another note. Slipped into the back of the file you weren’t supposed to touch anymore. This one was neater. Smaller handwriting. No signature.

I remember your voice better than my own. That’s how I know I’m still me.

You pressed it to your chest and cried for the first time since he left.

In the days that followed, the staff began whispering. Files disappearing. Lights flickering. A staff phone found with the entire photo gallery wiped except one: a blurry picture of your back, seated at a desk.

The institution was haunted. Not by a ghost. But by someone who refused to disappear.

The nights were getting colder in the halls of the institution. Too quiet. Too still. The other staff spoke in hushed tones when you entered. Some stared. A few avoided you entirely.

You weren’t sure if they pitied you, feared you, or blamed you. But none of it mattered. You were searching for Suguru. And he was leaving breadcrumbs.

That morning, you returned to the records room. You’d watched the same tapes again and again — footage from his therapy sessions, logged by date, dull and repetitive.

But something kept pulling you back to Session 18A.

You remembered it only because it was the first time he’d gone completely silent for the full hour. No eye contact. No movement. Just sitting there, breathing.

Until the last three seconds.

You hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe because you were already looking away. Maybe because you were trying not to get attached.

But this time, you leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowed.

Just before the feed cut, Suguru raised his hand.

Two fingers to his temple. Then his lips moved — barely.

You replayed it again. And again. No audio. But you didn’t need it. Because you could read his lips now.

“I won’t forget her.”

That night, you stayed late. You shouldn’t have. The halls had emptied. Wing D was under double surveillance. And yet— You heard footsteps. Not the rhythmic stomp of a guard. Barefoot. Light. Deliberate. You turned the corner.

And a hand gripped your wrist.

The moment you saw him — truly saw him — everything in your body locked up.

Suguru. Shadowed in the dim hallway light. Barefoot. Breathless. Beautiful in a way that felt wrong.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist — tight, possessive. Not enough to bruise, but close.

“Hey,” he whispered, like he hadn’t been hiding inside these walls like a phantom. Like he belonged here, in this moment, with his breath on your cheek and a thousand secrets in his eyes.

You said nothing. Because all the air had left the room.

His fingers slid slowly from your wrist to your palm. They lingered there, tracing the line where your lifeline curled inward — like he was learning you by touch, memorizing you by feel.

“I thought I lost you,” he said.

His voice was raw. Hoarse. Like it belonged to a different man entirely — not the flirt, not the quiet one.

Something in-between. Something new. Something dangerous. And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle.

It was possessive. Sharp. His mouth moved against yours like he was trying to brand you from the inside out. He tasted like static, like adrenaline and regret, like all the nights you’d spent thinking about this when you shouldn’t have.

His hand slid up your spine, cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer — until your body arched against his chest, until there was no space left between you.

And you kissed him back. Harder. Wilder. Because you weren’t afraid. You wanted this. You wanted him.

Even if he burned you down with it. When he pulled away, his breath shook.

“I’ll go,” he murmured, eyes still locked on your mouth. “But only if you come with me.”

You didn’t hesitate. You nodded. And you ran.

You got him out using an expired visitor pass, a hoodie, and nerves made of trembling steel.

You avoided the cameras. You lied to Kaede’s face. You cut across the east corridor while the security team was busy searching the supply wing. You kept his hand in yours the entire time, your grip trembling but firm.

By the time you reached your car, the sun was beginning to rise. He sat in your passenger seat — hood over his head, head against the window, silent.

You didn’t speak until you hit the highway. Only then did you look at him and whisper, “You’re safe.”

He didn’t answer with words. He just reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

You didn’t bring him to a motel. You brought him home. Your apartment had never felt like a crime scene before.

But now, with Suguru standing in your hallway — soaked in shadows, wearing your brother’s black hoodie and not blinking — it felt like you’d crossed a line you could never uncross.

He didn’t speak. He just stood there, chest rising slowly, like he was trying not to snap.

You shut the door. Locked it. Exhaled. Then turned. And he was on you.

Suguru's dark eyes drank in every inch of your body as he pinned you against the wall, his chest heaving with barely contained desire. His calloused hand slid under the hem of your shirt, fingers trailing fire across your sensitive skin as they inched their way up your side. Suguru's mouth found your throat, his lips brushing against your racing pulse before he dragged his teeth over the delicate flesh, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access as your hands fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Suguru smiled against your skin, a wicked curve of his lips that made your heart race and your core throb with need.

"Still think I'm just sick?" he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble. "Still think you're just helping me?"

Before you could respond, Suguru captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving past your parted lips to claim you thoroughly. He kissed you like a man starved, like you were the air he needed to breathe, the sustenance he craved. Your fingers slid under his hoodie, nails raking down the scars etched into his muscular back as you clung to him, losing yourself in the heat and passion of his embrace.

Suguru's hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he lifted you effortlessly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you down the hallway, his lips never leaving your skin, tasting and teasing every inch of your throat and jaw. By the time he laid you down on your bed, you were both breathing heavily, desire pulsing through your veins like liquid fire.

Suguru knelt over you, his dark gaze roaming your body, taking in every curve and line as if committing it to memory. Slowly, almost reverently, he peeled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His calloused fingers skimmed over your collarbone, down the center of your chest, coming to rest just above the waistband of your jeans. Suguru leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sternum, his tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat before trailing lower, over the swell of your breasts.

Your nipples pebbled under the thin fabric of your bra, straining against the confines of the lacy cups.

Suguru's fingers deftly unhooked the clasp of your bra, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts to his hungry gaze. "Fuck, Y/n," he breathed, his voice rough with desire as he took in the sight of your naked flesh. "You're perfect. Even more beautiful than I imagined." Suguru leaned down, capturing one stiff peak in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking hard, sending jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between suckling and teasing, bringing you to the brink of madness with his skilled mouth and hands. All the while, his hips pressed against yours, the hard, thick ridge of his erection evident even through the confines of his jeans.

Suguru's hand slid down your stomach, popping the button of your jeans and lowering the zipper with deliberate slowness. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging your jeans and panties down your legs in one smooth motion, leaving you bare and exposed beneath him. Suguru's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your naked body splayed out on the bed, his gaze lingering on the glistening flesh between your thighs.

"Spread your legs for me, Y/n," Suguru commanded, his voice a low, authoritative rumble. "Let me see this pretty pussy, so wet and ready for my touch."

Suguru's eyes flashed with hunger as you slowly spread your legs, revealing your slick, swollen folds to his intense gaze. "Fuck, baby," he growled, his voice strained with desire. "Look at this perfect little cunt, so fucking wet and ready for me." Suguru leaned in closer, his calloused fingers brushing against your inner thigh, making you shiver with anticipation. He traced the seam of your sex teasingly, not quite touching where you needed him most, before finally dragging his fingers through your slick arousal.

"Suguru," you whimpered, your hips lifting off the bed as you chased his touch. Suguru smirked, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement as he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking your essence from the digits. "Mmm, you taste divine, Y/n," he purred, his voice a low, sensual rasp. "I could get addicted to the taste of your sweet cunt."

Suguru settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your aching sex. He leaned in, his tongue parting your folds in a long, slow lick, savoring your flavor as he teasingly circled your clit. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure exploded through your body, your fingers fisting in Suguru's hair.

"That's it, baby," Suguru encouraged, his voice a low, rough murmur against your sex. "Don't hold back. I want to hear all those pretty sounds spilling from your lips as I taste this sweet little pussy." He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive nub hard as two thick fingers pushed deep inside your tight, clenching channel.

Suguru's fingers pumped in and out of you, curling and stroking your inner walls as he lapped and suckled at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The room filled with the obscene sounds of your moans and the wet, lewd noises of Suguru's mouth on your sex as he devoured you like a man starved. Your thighs trembled, your toes curling as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your lower belly, ready to snap at any moment. Suguru could feel you getting close, your walls fluttering and gripping his fingers like a velvet vise as he worked you towards your release with skillful, relentless motions.

Suguru could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he pushed you closer to the edge. He looked up at you, his dark eyes glinting with triumph and hunger as he watched the pleasure play out across your face. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Come for me, Y/n. Let me feel this pretty pussy spasm around my fingers as I make you fall apart."

With that, Suguru sucked your clit hard, his fingers pumping faster, stroking that special spot deep inside you with each thrust. Your body seized, your back arching sharply as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You cried out Suguru's name, your voice echoing off the walls as ecstasy consumed you, your sex clamping down on his fingers like a silken vice.

Suguru groaned against your flesh, the vibrations of his voice prolonging your pleasure as he worked you through your climax with skilled, relentless strokes. He didn't stop until your body went limp, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal as he crawled up your body, a look of dark satisfaction etched into his handsome features.

"Fuck, Y/n," Suguru growled, his voice rough with desire and something deeper, more primal. "Watching you come undone, feeling this sweet little cunt squeezing my fingers...it's everything I've ever wanted. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Suguru captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire and emotion into the embrace. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the musky, slightly sweet flavor of your combined essences making your head spin with lust. As you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands slid under his hoodie, nails raking down the scars etched into his muscular back. Suguru hissed into your mouth, his hips pressing harder against yours, the thick ridge of his erection grinding against your sensitive, throbbing sex.

Suguru broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain control. "I need to be inside you, Y/n," he rasped, his voice strained with the force of his desire.

Suguru's hands made quick work of his hoodie, tossing it aside to reveal his scarred, muscular torso. His abs rippled as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your collarbone, trailing lower to lavish attention on your breasts once more. Suguru's calloused fingers skimmed down your sides, hooking into the waistband of his jeans. He stood up briefly, unbuttoning and shoving them down his powerful legs along with his boxers, freeing his thick, hard cock.

You gasped at the sight of him, your eyes widening as you took in every inch of his impressive length. Suguru was large, larger than any man you'd been with before, and the thought of him stretching you open sent a thrill of both excitement and trepidation through you. He crawled back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs, the head of his cock nudging teasingly against your entrance.

Suguru's dark gaze locked with yours, his eyes blazing with hunger and a fierce, almost possessive intensity. "I've wanted this for so long, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp. "Dreamed of this moment, of finally being one with you. I know I'm not...I know I'm not the man you deserve. But fuck, I need you. I need to be inside you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible."

With that, Suguru surged forward, the thick head of his cock parting your folds and pushing inside your tight, slick heat. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as you were stretched wide around him, your walls clenching and fluttering around his invading length. Suguru groaned, his hips pressing forward until he was buried to the hilt inside you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your ass.

"Fuck, Y/n," Suguru panted, his voice strained with pleasure and something deeper, more primal. "You feel incredible. Like this is where I belong, like I was made to be a part of you." He started to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming back in, setting a deep, powerful rhythm that made the bed creak beneath you. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin.

Suguru's hips rolled in a steady, relentless rhythm, his thick length stretching and filling you so completely that you felt every ridge and vein as he claimed your body. One of his hands slid under your knee, hiking your leg up and back to change the angle of his thrusts, allowing him to drive even deeper into your core. The other hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, pinning you beneath him as he took his pleasure from your willing body.

"Y/n," Suguru growled, his voice a low, rough rasp in your ear. "You're mine now, do you understand? This sweet little cunt belongs to me. Your pleasure, your ecstasy...it's all mine to give and take as I please." To emphasize his words, Suguru circled his hips, grinding his pelvis against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves.

Suguru's mouth found your throat once more, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh as he marked you, branding you as his. You could feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles as he loomed over you, dominating you, consuming you with the force of his desire. Your fingers slid up his back, nails raking down the scars etched into his skin as you clung to him, losing yourself in the raw, primal passion of his lovemaking.

Suguru's hand slid between your bodies, his calloused fingers finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in hard, fast circles. "Come for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "I want to feel this pussy spasm around my cock as I fill you up, as I pump you full of my seed. I want to feel you come undone, knowing that you're mine, that you'll always be mine." His words, combined with the relentless stimulation of your clit and the deep, powerful thrusts of his hips, sent you hurtling towards the edge of another shattering orgasm.

Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave. "SUGURU!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls as ecstasy consumed you. Your sex clenched and fluttered wildly around Suguru's pistoning length, gripping him like a velvet vice as you came undone beneath him. Suguru groaned, his hips stuttering as your walls massaged his cock, bringing him closer to his own release.

"That's it, baby," Suguru growled, his voice strained with pleasure and something darker, more primal. "Milk my cock with this perfect little cunt. Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me, begging for my cum." He slammed into you with renewed vigor, his balls drawing up tight as he chased his own end. The room filled with the obscene sounds of your moans and Suguru's grunts, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of sweat-slicked skin against skin.

With a final, brutal thrust, Suguru buried himself to the hilt inside your still-fluttering sex. His body shuddered and tensed above you, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he found his release. "Fuck, Y/n!" Suguru roared, his voice echoing off the walls as hot, thick ropes of his seed painted your insides, filling you up until you could feel it seeping out around his throbbing length.

Suguru collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He pressed sloppy kisses along your shoulder blades, his lips brushing against your sweat-damped skin as he slowly came down from his high. "Y/n," he murmured, his voice rough and sated. "That was...fuck, that was incredible. You're incredible." He lifted his head to gaze down at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of awe, wonder, and something deeper, something that made your heart ache in your chest. “This,” he whispered against your collarbone. “Is the only time I don’t feel insane.”

And you clung to him. Because you understood. You were his anchor. And he was your undoing.

You woke with his hand already on your skin.

Fingertips sliding across your hip, tracing the shape of you beneath the sheets like he was mapping out something he couldn’t risk forgetting. His chest pressed into your back, warm and heavy, the steady rise and fall of his breath syncing with yours.

“You didn’t leave,” he murmured.

You didn’t open your eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

“Even now?” he whispered against your neck. “With them looking for me? With everything I’ve done?”

You turned your head slightly, eyes meeting his — the shy one, for now. The one who rarely spoke. Except now, when it was only you and him. When it was dark and quiet and dangerous.

“I don’t care,” you whispered.

He kissed you again. Slower this time. As if he knew he didn’t have to fight for it anymore.

The knock came midmorning. Two short raps. Measured. Military.

You looked up from the couch, heart stalling.

Suguru emerged from the bathroom shirtless, towel slung low on his hips. He paused when he saw your face. When he heard the knock.

Your eyes locked. Don’t say anything, don’t move, don’t breathe— A voice called through the door.

“Officer L/N? Dr. Kaede sent us. Have you seen any unusual activity? A… possible suspect who may have followed you off campus?”

You stood slowly, pulling on your cardigan to cover the marks still blooming on your skin.

Suguru didn’t speak. He didn’t blink.

But his whole body had gone still — like a predator cornered.

“Hold on,” you called back, keeping your voice steady.

You crossed the room. Pressed your hand flat against Suguru’s chest. His heart was hammering like it would burst. But he didn’t move. Not until you tilted your head toward the hallway closet.

Without a word, he slipped inside.

You turned the lock on the door and opened it two inches.

Two men stood outside. Both in uniform. Both looking at you like they already knew the answer.

“We’re just checking in,” one said. “Dr. Kaede said you’ve been... emotionally compromised since his escape.”

Your mouth went dry.

“I’m fine.”

The other officer glanced over your shoulder.

“Anyone else here?”

“No.”

Pause. Then:

“You smell like cologne,” he said slowly.

You smiled thinly. “I’m not dead.”

They didn’t laugh. Eventually, they left. You locked the door again, hands trembling — and then opened the closet.

Suguru stepped out slowly. And for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then his hand gripped your chin. Firm. Unyielding. He tilted your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You lied for me,” he whispered.

You nodded.

“You’re mine now,” he said. “You understand?”

Your pulse jumped.

But you didn’t pull away.

“I was yours the moment you kissed me.”

That night, he didn’t sleep. You woke to find him at your window, bare-chested, silhouetted by moonlight — a ghost outside his own reflection.

“They’re going to find me eventually,” he said.

“Not if I keep hiding you.”

He turned to you, and his smile was sharp. Cold.

“No,” he said. “I won’t let them touch you.”

His voice was low. Dangerous. Protective. Possessive. You should’ve been afraid.

Instead, you stood. Crossed the room. And kissed him like it would be the last time.

Because even if the world burned, you knew he’d burn it for you.

You noticed the shift before he even opened his mouth. Suguru was different that morning.

Not in the way he sometimes switched — from brooding silence to teasing flirt. No. This wasn’t either of them.

This version was still. Focused. Like something inside had clicked into place and started humming.

He sat on your living room floor, legs crossed, his eyes fixed on nothing as sunlight spilled in through the blinds.

“Did you know there’s a locked room under the south wing?” he said.

You blinked, coffee halfway to your mouth.

“What?”

“In the institution. Beneath the therapy levels. There’s a staircase behind the archives. They keep it bolted shut.”

You set your cup down slowly.

“I only remember pieces,” he continued. “Flashes. A woman in a red coat. Bright lights. The smell of iron.”

Your stomach twisted. “Kaede wears a red coat sometimes.”

His eyes flicked to you.

“So you’ve noticed.”

That afternoon, when you returned to the institution under the guise of picking up a report, Kaede was at her desk.

She looked up from her screen, smiling warmly. Always the same.

“Officer L/N,” she said. “Surprised to see you. You’re on leave, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag a little too tightly.

“I left something in records. Just one file.”

Kaede tilted her head, then reached into her drawer and handed you a visitor clearance tag without question.

So easy. Too easy.

You waited until the floor was mostly empty. Evening fell like a warning outside the windows. The fluorescent lights above buzzed low. You slipped past the therapy rooms. Past the records office.

Then — just like Suguru said — behind the file cabinets, there was a door. Old. Steel. With a security pad. You typed Kaede’s birthday.

It clicked open. The stairs creaked downward into darkness. You flicked your flashlight on.

Dust. Cold. The walls were cement, and the floor beneath your boots was lined with rusted tiles. But then… photos. Dozens of them. Mounted behind glass along the hallway like a museum no one was meant to see.

Test subjects.

Some had names. Some just numbers.

And there, near the end of the hall — a young boy with long dark hair and hollowed eyes.

Subject 5C: Geto, S.

You stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest.

Below the photo was a note:

“Alter induced via stress-amplification. Dual personality results unstable. Progress suspended following patient breakdown. Memory suppression advised. Contact: Dr. Kaede Nakamura.”

You turned cold.

You didn’t sleep that night. When you returned home, Suguru was waiting for you. He didn’t even ask if you found it.

“I saw the file,” you whispered. “I saw you.”

“I know.”

You paused. “Why didn’t you tell me you were experimented on?”

He tilted his head. “Because I didn’t know until last night. Something triggered it. Maybe being near you. Maybe being free.”

His gaze darkened.

“They tried to erase me. Split me in two. Then lock away the pieces.”

You reached for him — and he caught your wrist, pulled you into his arms.

“They didn’t just break me,” he whispered, forehead against yours. “They made me forget who I really was. But I remember now.”

“And who are you?” you whispered.

He smiled. Slowly. Sharp.

“Something they’ll never be able to contain again.”

The first time Kaede asked if you were okay, it didn’t feel like concern.

It felt like bait.

You stood across from her in the break room, clutching a cup of tea you hadn’t touched, trying to act like your heart wasn’t pounding. Like your skin didn’t still bear Suguru’s fingerprints beneath your clothes. Like the weight of his breath against your neck wasn’t something you still craved like oxygen.

“You’ve been… distant,” she said. “Quiet.”

“I’m just tired.”

Kaede smiled — too small. Too knowing.

“Funny. Officer tired, therapist curious.”

You blinked. “I didn’t know you were a therapist.”

“I didn’t say I was,” she replied gently, stirring her tea. “But I know a trauma bond when I see one.”

You froze.

She didn’t look at you.

“Careful who you let in, Y/N. Especially if they were once kept locked behind steel.”

Your throat went dry.

That night, you barely made it through your front door before Suguru pulled you into the dark and kissed you like it had been days instead of hours.

You tasted desperation in it. Hunger. The threat of losing something he didn’t even believe he could keep.

“You saw her today,” he muttered, dragging your jacket off your shoulders. “Kaede.”

You didn’t answer.

“Did she say something?” His tone sharpened. “What did she ask you?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect.”

He stared at you for a long moment. Then something changed in his expression — something softer, almost pained.

“She’s going to take you away from me.”

“No,” you whispered. “I’d let them lock me up with you first.”

He pulled you into him. Hard.

He didn’t speak. He only watched you—watched the way your lashes trembled, the way your lips parted slightly like you’d already begun to surrender.

“I could ruin you,” he whispered against your ear. “You’d still beg for more.”

You didn’t deny it.

Your fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. The scarred line near his ribs, the slope of his collarbone—every inch of him was a story he hadn’t told you yet, and you were desperate to learn it with your mouth.

He leaned down and kissed you—slow, deliberate, consuming.

His lips were warm and soft at first, but then his teeth grazed your bottom lip, biting just enough to make your breath hitch. You could taste the ache behind it. His tongue swept against yours, and something low in your body responded like a lit fuse.

“You still think I’m dangerous?” he asked, voice ragged.

“I hope you are,” you whispered. “I want to see what it feels like.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carried you to the floor like you weighed nothing. The carpet burned soft against your spine. His body caged you in, heavy and grounding, his hands roaming like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Suguru's hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your waist as he knelt before you. His calloused fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. "Lift your hips for me, Y/n," Suguru commanded, his voice a low, rough rasp. You obeyed, lifting your hips off the carpet as he peeled your panties down and off, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze.

Suguru's hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your skirt up further as he settled between your legs. He leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, working his way steadily upward. Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against your sex, teasing you with the promise of his touch. Suguru smirked, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement as he watched you squirm with anticipation.

"Suguru, please," you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. Suguru chuckled, the sound low and dark, sending a shiver down your spine. "Patience, baby," he murmured, his breath hot against your sex. "I want to savor every moment of this."

Suguru's hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he massaged the soft flesh, pulling you closer to his mouth. He leaned in, his tongue parting your folds in a long, slow lick, savoring your flavor as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, your head falling back against the carpet as pleasure coursed through your body, your nails digging into Suguru's shoulders.

Suguru's fingers pushed deep inside your tight, slick heat, stroking and curling in a way that made your eyes flutter closed, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He worked you with a skillful, relentless pace, his tongue and fingers moving in tandem as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just as you felt your climax building, Suguru pulled back, leaving you aching and empty. He stood up, quickly shedding his shirt and tossing it aside, revealing his scarred, muscular torso. His hands slid up your body, pushing your skirt down and over your legs, leaving you bare and exposed beneath him.

Suguru's eyes raked over your naked body, dark and hungry as he drank in every curve and line. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his voice strained with desire. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined. I could spend hours just looking at you, touching you, worshipping this perfect body."

He settled onto the carpet above you, his muscular frame caging you in, his skin searing against yours. Suguru's hands slid into your hair, tilting your head back as he claimed your mouth in a searing, dominating kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, stroking and teasing, exploring every inch of your mouth as he poured all of his pent-up desire into the embrace.

Suguru's lips trailed down your throat, his teeth grazing your collarbone before he latched onto the sensitive flesh of your breast. He sucked and nipped, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he teased the stiff peak with his teeth. You gasped, arching into his touch as jolts of electricity shot straight to your core. Suguru's hand slid down your stomach, his fingers teasing through the slick folds of your sex, stroking your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

"Suguru," you whimpered, your voice breathy and needy. "I need you. Please, I can't wait anymore." Suguru chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with wicked promise as he looked up at you. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to give you exactly what you need. I'm going to fuck you so hard and so deep, you'll forget your own name. The only thing you'll remember is screaming mine as I ruin this tight little cunt for anyone else."

With that, Suguru settled between your spread thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging teasingly against your entrance. He gripped your hips, pulling you down onto him as he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, slick heat with one powerful thrust.

"Fuck, Y/n," Suguru groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he started to move, setting a deep, relentless rhythm that made the carpet creak beneath you. He loomed above you, his muscles flexing and rippling with each thrust, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

Suguru's hips rolled in a steady, pounding rhythm, his thick length stretching and filling you so completely that you felt every ridge and vein as he claimed your body with deep, powerful thrusts. He hooked your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his assault, driving even deeper into your core. The new position allowed him to hit that special spot inside you with each snap of his hips, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.

"Suguru," you cried out, your nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake as you clung to him, losing yourself in the relentless pace he set. Suguru groaned, his voice rough and strained as he felt your walls clench and flutter around his pistoning length, gripping him like a velvet vice.

"That's it, baby," Suguru growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Take this cock, take every fucking inch of it. This cunt was made for me, made to milk my dick dry." He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your clit, sending sparks of electric pleasure shooting through your nerves.

Suguru's hand slid between your writhing bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles. "I can feel you getting close, Y/n," he rasped, his voice a low, wicked murmur.

Your body tensed, your back arching off the carpet as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your sex clamping down on Suguru's length, gripping him like a silken vise.

"SUGURU!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls as ecstasy consumed you, your vision going white behind your eyelids. Suguru groaned, his hips stuttering as your walls massaged his cock, bringing him closer to his own release. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure.

Suguru's body shuddered above you, his muscles flexing and tensing as he fought to hold back his own climax, wanting to prolong your shared pleasure. He captured your lips in a searing, desperate kiss, pouring all of his hunger and desire into the embrace. His tongue conquered your mouth, stroking and teasing, as if he were trying to devour you whole.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru trailed his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he bit down, marking you as his. "I want to fill this tight little cunt with my cum, Y/n," he rasped against your skin, his voice rough and strained. "I want to pump you so full of it that it takes days for it to all leak out. I want everyone to know that this pussy belongs to me now, that I've claimed you, ruined you for anyone else."

With that, Suguru redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming into yours with a force that rocked you both. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton moans filled the room as Suguru chased his release, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your still-fluttering sex.

"Fuck, I'm close," Suguru panted, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts against your neck. "Tell me you want it, Y/n. Tell me you want to feel my cum flooding your womb, marking you as mine." His words sent a dark thrill through you, your core clenching around him at the filthy, erotic image he painted.

"I want it, Suguru," you gasped out, your voice ragged and needy. "Please, fill me up. I need to feel your cum inside me, claiming me, ruining me for anyone else." Suguru let out a guttural groan at your words, his hips stuttering as he felt his climax approaching rapidly.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Suguru roared, his voice echoing off the walls as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His body shuddered and jerked above you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as thick, hot ropes of his seed painted your insides, flooding your womb just as he had promised.

Suguru collapsed against you, his muscular frame pressing you into the carpet as he struggled to catch his breath.

he sat up, breathing heavy, the moonlight cutting across his bare back.

“She wants me dead,” he said finally. “She’s covering her tracks. Everything I remembered… she’ll make it disappear.”

You reached up and traced the lines of his spine with your fingers. “Then we make a move before she does.”

He turned, eyes narrowing.

“You’d help me?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I already have.”

#jjk #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #shelovesosa

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chamisulgrape · 2 months ago

Text

ⓘ chamisulgrape’s library

—̳͟͞͞♡ lee heeseung

♰ make you mine 🔞 4.9k ⤷ pwp, office!au, secretary!reader, non/dubcon

—̳͟͞͞♡ sim jaeyun

♰ give me tough love 🔞 12.9k ⤷ pwp, omegaverse/abo, alpha x alpha dynamics, enemies to lovers (?), non/dubcon

—̳͟͞͞♡ park sunghoon

♰ watch me, watch me party on you pt.1 🔞 6.8k ⤷ pwp, model!au, new york fashion week, rivals to lovers

♰ watch me, watch me party on you pt.2 🔞 7.1k ⤷ pwp, established secret relationship

♰ boss!sunghoon 🔞 2.1k [hard hour] ⤷ pwp, office!au, secretary!reader, non/dubcon

♰ i need a big boy 🔞 3.9k ⤷ pwp, wolf!sunghoon, bunny!reader, non/dubcon

—̳͟͞͞♡ series

♰ party 4 you [p.sh] | completed, 2 parts ⤷ pwp, model!au, new york fashion week, rivals to lovers

♰ boss!enha [hyungline] | ongoing, 2 parts ⤷ pwp, office!au, secretary!reader, non/dubcon

♰ [NEW] the summer i turned pretty [hyungline] | ongoing ⤷ tsitp au, love squares, angst, fluff, smut

♰ hard thoughts

#chamisulgrape directory #masterlist #enhypen x reader #enhypen fics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut

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ghostly-bat · 1 month ago

Note

Do you have any jondami fic recs? i feel like i’ve read through half the tag at this point 😭

Omg of course! Tho if you've been through half the tag you might have read some of them already but I will recommend fics anyway uwu

Under a read more cus this is gonna be long

Spidey Senses by shaobaopeaches

Description: In which Jon’s spider senses repeatedly failed him, and in which Damian is a little shit. Or Damian’s brothers find out that not only is he dating his childhood best friend, but also that he’s dating Metropolis’s friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

The Man Who Stands To Lose You by fishfingersandjellybabies

Description: It wasn’t possible. That had to be it. This wasn’t real. He was having a nightmare, because this wasn’t possible. Damian's heartbeat had never stopped before.

i would know him blind by andthentheybow

Description: Damian’s not particularly worried about the fact that he’s in free-fall, because he’s called Jon’s name and he knows Jon will catch him.

The baby whisperer by MrsOkita

Description: Apparently Dick and Barbara’s baby girl has a soft spot for Damian. Jon can relate. Richard finds it amusing. Or The Tale of Damian Wayne, the Favorite Uncle (Not a Babysitter)

ABO Jondami by grayqueen

Description: Connected and unconnected ABO JonDami

'Cause I Made My Mind Up You're Going to Be Mine by poisonivory

Description: Jon’s heart started pounding so hard he would have been concerned if he’d heard it in a regular human’s chest. “Are you saying that you’ve been courting me?”

Damian’s brow furrowed. “Yes, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Jon echoed. “When did...how? What was the courtship part?” And how had he missed it? This was so unfair.

Damian's been acting strange. Jon's unprepared for the reason why.

How all of Jon's girlfriends realised that they weren't actually dating Jon: featuring 1 boyfriend by Silver_Athena

Description: If only Jon wasn't so focused on Damian, then maybe he would actually keep a girlfriend. Every partner Jon has ever had, realises at some point that Jon is completely in love with his husband Damian, and after finding out they are the second choice they break up with him.

Jon can't find it in himself to be sad.

Your first kiss? by jerrydoe

Description: And now it’s their first summer together, as a couple, in their own apartment, with a big bed but a tiny square kitchen and a spare guest room, which is occupied by so many cats that Jon doesn't dare to try and count them these days.

Navigating Life by nxghtwxng

Description: A series of DamiJon works in which Damian learns how to make friends

But If I Know You (I Know What You Do) by Sophia52

Description: Damian can only fall asleep when he has a knife. Until at some point, Jon starts counting as a knife.

I Promised You a Heart You Promised to Keep by grayqueen

Description: “You know this doesn’t have to be like this,” the alien said in a serious tone, but he didn’t move away.

Damian glared at him with rage in his eyes.

“Save your delusional offers to yourself, Kent,” he said in a feral tone.

As someone indoctrinated in the art of war, Damian had learned from an early age that anything could be used as a weapon. From the sharpest katana to a wooden pencil. Anything could be used with the proper skill and handling. If his body and Jonathan’s twisted feelings towards him could be used as a means to an end, then so be it.

Superlord Jon gives Damian Wayne special treatment.

A Movie, a Bear, and a Milkshake by I_can_only_imagine

Description: Jon had planed the entire day ahead of them and Damian was along for the ride. It was a sunny Metropolis day for two best friends to spend together. at least, that's what Damian thought. But they day is looking more and more like a date as they go on...

Cloud 9 by Louis_the_Snake

Description: Jon drags Damian out to his friend's planned end-of-semester party day and Damian realizes everyone thinks they're dating. It's not hard to see why, but it was still a surprise.

Hypocritical by fishfingersandjellybabies

Description: Clark can tell, even from this distance, that Bruce does not approve.

Brooding Over Bat Burger by nxghtwxng

Description: “I’m hungry,” Jason said. “Let’s go get food.”

“Why would I want to go anywhere with the likes of you?” Damian retorted.

Jason didn’t feel like playing games. He called Damian on his shit. “Because you obviously want to talk about whatever is going on with you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent the morning following me around, hoping I’d ask.”

Or: Damian is even moodier than usual, so Jason drags him to Bat Burger and attempts to play the role of Helpful Older Brother.

(Restricted) I Drove All Night (Is That Alright?) by ConsultingWriter

Description: After a fight with Bruce, Damian runs to Jon.

Nothing about this night had been good. The fight he’d had with his father was just the icing on the cake of a terrible day, the tipping point that had driven him out of the manor and speeding towards Metropolis. Towards Jon.

Playing With Fire by Anonymous

Description: Set years after Bruce’s death, Damian has left the Batfamily after abandoning Bruce’s ‘no kill’ policy and now operates as a lone vigilante known as Nocturne in his part of Gotham. One night, after killing outside his territory, the bats send Superman to warn Damian of the consequences of crossing the invisible demarcation lines.

It goes about as well as one could expect.

my boyfriends back and you're gonna be in trouble by desolationofzara

All My Good Wishes (Go With You with You Tonight) by grayqueen

Description: “You can’t keep doing things like that!” he hears Jon exclaim angrily only a second before he can say those same exact words to Tim and they both turn in time to see the other two land on the same roof.

A quick look confirms that besides their evident angry looks, both of them are unscratched.

“I do not take orders from you, Superboy,” Robin says coldly and Kon almost rolls his eyes at Tim’s younger brother’s words. He has heard similar versions of the same statement from Tim before.

Tim and Damian may not be related by blood, but they sure as hell share more traits than they both would like to admit. Kon values his life enough to keep his mouth shut, thank you very much.

Conner Kent takes his role as an older brother very seriously.

I Draw What I See by justforthefanfiction

Description: Jon just wants to get away from pressures in his life after a break up, and talk to Damian about his art. Only to discover his drawings have shifted into a more mature territory. One thing leads to another as he discovers why that is.

Aged up, both characters are mid twenties.

Getting married was never a big deal by Anonymous

Description: Jon proposes to Dami when he’s 8, they never quite forget that day

Oh, Your Good Lovin' (Did Something to Me) by VeryImpressive

Description: "All that I want is to be all you need. Baby, in fact. Ooh your good lovin' did something to me."

-- Mariah Carey, Stay Long (Love You)

Watch the Smoke Pour by Queerbutstillhere

Description: “Stay with me. Let me keep you safe. If anyone tries to hurt you, or make you do something you don’t want to, I’ll make them pay. The world could be ours, Damian. You and I, together, we could be unstoppable. We could take over the world, or we could burn it down and watch the smoke pour if we wanted to.”

---

Damian Al Ghul was born to Talia Al Ghul, daughter of the Demon. His birth was not of the natural kind, but it made him stronger, allowed him to grow and mature quicker. He was bathed in the waters of the Lazarus pit from birth, his pain washed away with each rinse.

He knew pain and suffering for his whole life, until he came to life with his Father, where strife and hurt were his new friends. He spent his whole life fighting to please his parents, never knowing true kindness or love. Until he met Jon-El, and his whole world changed.

There's No Hiding From the Thought of Us by orphan_account

Description: After aiding the Legion of Super-Heroes in a fierce but successful battle against Time Trapper, Jon headed home to the 21st Century. What he didn't realize until he got there was that he'd actually come back to a timeline that jumped five years ahead, while he had lost only a month.

This led to more than a few problems. Namely, the unideal status of some relationships. Namely, Damian Wayne.

Naturally, things got complicated.

Teenage Dream by Sansy_pansy

Description: Through the eyes of their friends and family, the true nature of Jon and Damian's relationship was the topic for one single, most obvious speculation: the two of them were not-so-secretly dating. Or: all of the instances where the Super Sons' behavior toward each other translated as revelations to those around them.

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? by poisonivory

Description: After years in the future with the Legion of Super-Heroes, Jon is finally back in Damian's life, and Damian's determined to keep him in this century. If that means a little fooling around between friends, so be it. It doesn't have to mean anything.

#Anon I basically give you all the fics I have bookmarked LOL #Jondami #damijon #damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #Ask #ask

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meanderingwistera · 3 months ago

Text

Heaven is here- if you want it

You’re the closest to heaven I will ever get- Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls

Summary - Who knew that picking up that old book from the antique shop would lead to you accidentally summoning a demon? Not you.

Pairing - Demon!Sukuna x reader

Content - Fluff, CRACK, smut, Sukuna’s wonderful personality, talks about religion (briefly), the curse of all archaeologists and historians to accidentally summon things they shouldn’t

Word count - 6.1k

A/N - All demons can be glorified house cats if you try hard enough.

You had known that buying that old tattered book was a bad idea when you could barely read it. It had a dark leather cover and had multiple crosses burned into it, like it was trying to keep something in there. And the pages all were in latin- which you couldn’t read.

Sure you took a semester of Latin but that was the extent of your knowledge. And that had faded over time. But you had resolved to buy it and translate it yourself. It would be a fun challenge for you to do in your free time after your exams.

During exams you had completely forgotten about the book until a week after your last class ended for the summer.

You had been cleaning out your desk when you rediscovered the book in all its hideous glory. With a glass of cheap wine you went through it in a deeper way, looking through it for any semblance of understanding. But all you could come up with was a list of ingredients.

Maybe it was an old cookbook?

The Latin in it was older than what you learned in college. It must be an earlier version of it- maybe even a local strand of it special to a specific town or region. You flip to a random page and decide to try and figure out what it says. The page is burnt at the edges and has a picture of- what you assume- is an oddly specific way to stir the soup?

No, if the Latin translator you found online was right it was a chilli. If this is an actual recipe that you can translate you will be on the fast track of getting recognized by the rest of the Historian community.

Standing up from the couch you walk into your shitty kitchen. You put a pot on the stove and rifle through your spice cabinet for everything you will need. It is both specific and vague, calling for things like thyme and then something that just translates to red.

Half way through the ordiel you end up on the floor, the book in your hands and your old laptop close by. Typing in a word into the translator you see that word that translates to red again. Maybe red food colouring would work. Most people back when you assume this book was written didn’t bother with colouring their food a certain way on a regular basis. But certain plants would have that natural color to change it to red.

You get up and grab your old bottle of red food coloring from the back. This should hopefully work, if it didn’t you were back to square one. Two drops of food coloring enter the pot and it turns a bloody red.

You stir it in the way the book showed, in a star motion.

After that you decide to taste it- which was a bad idea because it tastes awful. You gag and sputter as you get a cup of water. Downing almost the whole thing you heave.

Maybe these people had very different taste buds from you but that was the worst chilli you ever had.

Sitting back on the floor you open the book again. You look at the pages with a frown as the letters don’t make any more sense than ten minutes ago.

A tremor runs through your apartment. The walls shake and you hear glass breaking. You hold onto the counter for dear life, try not to panic and hope the tremor will pass soon.

A minute later you can breathe easy as it passes. Still holding the book you open your phone to check and see what that was. You briefly look up because something black catches your eye that wasn’t there before. A man comes into your view, he stands a few feet away from you.

The man now standing in your kitchen is tall, much taller than any regular human, six-four at the least. He probably has about a head or two on you if you were standing on your toes. But that isn’t the only thing that is off about him. Two horns are on his head and twist back like a ram’s horns.

His red eyes look around your messy kitchen in confusion. He also looks somewhat disappointed and you can’t blame him. You were a poor college student and couldn’t afford a good apartment unless you sold your soul for it. But as he glares at it you feel a little offended. It may be a shitty kitchen, but it was your shitty kitchen.

Eventually his eyes settle on yours.

“What do you want from me?” His voice seems to boom in your kitchen like he was talking into a microphone.

“Who are you and how did you get into my apartment?” You counter his question with one of your own.

“You summoned me.” He tells you like you were stupid.

“I am pretty sure I didn’t-”

The man -demon? you can’t tell- groans and rubs his temples like you were the one inconveniencing him. After a second of you staring at him, he speaks again.

“Sweet lucifer.” He curses and joins you on the floor. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, telling him to continue speaking.

“You summoned a demon, me-” He points to himself, “with this book” then points to the book.

“So this isn’t a cookbook?” You ask him for clarification, you need to know what type of book this is to fully translate it.

“No, this is a grimoire.”

You sigh deeply, “So what happens now? Do I sell you my soul or whatever?”

The demon looks contemplative as he stares at you. His red gaze makes you shift, it was intense and electricfying.

You can’t deny the demon’s attractiveness, his exposed torso is muscled and broad, his face all sharp angles. Even his nonhuman features added to his appeal. You had already noticed the horns but now you see a black pointed tail switching behind him as he thinks.

“Y'know what? I will grant your wish for free.” He says with a smirk that shows his pointed canines.

A free wish- but how far can you go? Do most people wish for money? Or youth? What do you actually want?

You look at him then at the book and then to him again.

“You can read this right?” You ask slowly.

“I can do anything you want.” He says, smirk widening.

“Then I want you to help me translate this book.”

The demon’s red eyes widen in surprise and his smirk drops, “That’s what you want? Not wealth or eternal youth?”

“Neither of those things interest me,” You hold the book up to him, “this does!”

His unconvinced attitude is back in full force as he groans. You wonder if he expected something grand. All things considered you were fine financially and eternal life seems lonely.

“Besides this could help us understand how the people who wrote this lived and where! I couldn’t understand the Latin in it but it may be a old form of it, maybe even the earliest form of it so we can trace it back to where Latin was first used-”

He puts a hand over your mouth, cutting you off mid ramble about the Latin language. You blink in confusion as he holds his hand there for a while.

“Do you ever stop talking woman?” He hissed at you.

If you could answer you would tell him no but you can’t at the moment.

“Don’t answer that-” He sighs, “I will grant your wish.”

You light up like a firework. This would be so helpful to your career, you can already imagine the paper you could write about this. The demon on the other hand doesn’t look so happy about this.

Finally he removes his hand from your mouth and you smile at him, not minding him shutting you up anymore.

“Thank you for this!” You go to hug him only to be pushed back by one of his arms.

“Don’t touch me human.” He growls at you.

“What is your name? Or something I can call you?” You ask him.

“Sukuna- let’s get this over with.”

Sukuna has been summoned by humans for thousands of years. He has been asked for so many things that the requests blend together. The most prominent things are youth or wealth, he loves to twist those two wishes.

The most recent man to summon him was a businessman, who had a decent amount of money but Sukuna can always see the gleam of pure greed in people’s eyes. He had wished to become the most wealthy man in the world.

Sukuna had barely suppressed a grin as he granted his wish. The man was so pleased with his wish, watching the zeros extended far then anyone else had. But he was soon arrested for running an illegal underground drug ring. Sukuna had made him wealthy but the man had never specified how he wanted to make him wealthy.

You were an outlier to this. He has seen his far share of scholars but they always ask for fame, which eventually leads to them either being killed by fans or going insane. You had surprised him with your wish.

Sukuna had been sure you would wish for something different from how you had looked at him. The way you looked him over had been not with fear but something much better, want. And he was prepared to give you what you wanted. No one else had wished for him before so he was flattered and even gave you the wish for free.

And now he is stuck being a translator. The second in command to Lucifer, one of the most feared demons in history is a damn translator for the duration of this wish. He would be a laughing stock if anyone found out.

The grimoire you have is long so it will take at least a week if not two before it is done.

You were excited about this and had gathered a notebook and pencil. He just rolls his eyes at your excitement, letting you know about his displeasure at being used this way. You didn’t seem to care about that- which only made him more irritated.

“Okay!” You look at him expectantly and tap your pencil on the paper. “Let's start on this.”

Sukuna grabs the book and begins to read it to you. You scribble down the words on the paper as he reads. Over the course of a few hours you take notes and write down the translation.

Every so often you stop him to ask a question about the words and if they have different meanings in a different context as well as about punctuation

He also meets your cat. The little beast attempts to lay on the papers you are working on and is genuinely a nuisance. At one point you have to hold the cat with one arm and write with the other.

“Alright! Let’s stop for the night.” You say with delight.

He huffs and closes the book. You get up and stretch with a hum. His eyes catch on the sliver of skin that shows as your shirt rides up. He feels his mouth water looking at it. But as soon as he sees it you lower your arms and the skin is covered up again.

“Do demons sleep?” You ask curiosity plain on your face as you look at him as if he were a test subject.

“I don’t have too but I assume you would feel better if I did?” Sukuna says and you turn bashful.

“Only if you want to- let me get you a blanket and pillows so you can take the couch.” You tell him quickly then practically run off to what he assumes is your room.

Maybe this won’t be a total waste of his time.

“Where are you going, human?” Sukuna says to you as you grab your keys from the little cat shaped key ring.

You have spent three days translating the book and are only half way through. Sukuna is a great help if not a little irritated with your questions.

“I have to work so I have a roof over my head.” You explain and slip on your shoes, “also Toffee needs sacrifices.”

Sukuna looks down right offended, “You give that beast sacrifices? It does nothing but bathe and eat all day.”

You can’t help but laugh as the joke flies over his head.

“It was a joke, she hasn’t demanded sacrifices yet but she does demand food.” You explain and wipe the tears out of your eyes from laughing.

He crosses his arms with an unimpressed look that he gives you all too often. You pat his arm in a placating gesture.

“I taught you how to use the remote and Toffee is here to keep you company. I will be back in a few hours.” You tell him with a gentle smile.

Sukuna doesn’t look impressed but turns around to stalk over to the couch. You giggle and walk out the door- he is very interesting in his own grumpy way.

Sukuna doesn’t like being left alone. He feels a deep sense of boredom as he flips through the TV channels. Nothing is interesting to him and you aren’t here to talk to him about your chosen topic. He would prefer that to the pure silence he is now subjected to in your absence.

He tires of flipping through channels quickly and turns the TV off. Toffee looks up at him from her spot in the sunlight shining through the window because of the movement. Her feline eyes are narrowed at him. Raising to the obvious challenge he narrows his eyes right back.

Toffee either is intimidated or doesn’t care because she gets up to wash her ears. He considers this a win and feels rather smug about it. The beast, after deeming her ears clean, saunters over to him. She rubs against him with a meow.

“You have a lot of audacity to touch me, beast.” He grumbles to her. She doesn’t seem to care and continues to rub her head against his calf.

Toffee meows again and paws at his leg for attention. Huffing in irritation he picks her up and brings them eye to eye. She stares at him and Sukuna stares back.

“I don’t like you.” Sukuna tells her.

Toffee looks like she doesn’t believe him.

Work is boring.

After the morning rush at your job the day is filled with boredom and cleaning everything multiple times for something to do. You are cleaning the counter for what feels like when Haibara, your relief, comes in. He is all smiles and you don’t know how he can be so cheerful in the service industry you give him props for it.

“So how was your three days off?” He asks as you take off your apron and clock out.

You pause for just a moment because how do you explain that you accidentally summoned a demon while trying to recreate a recipe and now you have him in your apartment. He would call you crazy, possibly call a psych ward too and you have to finish translating that book before any of that can happen.

“They were great! It was just what I needed.” You say, trying to match his cheerfulness.

The two of you talk long after you are supposed to leave. You tell him about and show him pictures of Toffee. Haibara tells you about his latest date with Kento. Looking up at the clock you realize that you had been talking with Haibara for twenty minutes.

Shit- you need to get home. With a hasty goodbye you practically sprint to your car.

When you get back you find Sukuna on the couch, Toffee laying on his lap as he watches something on the TV. You shut the door softly so you don’t disturb both of them.

Sukuna immediately looks toward the door at your arrival. You give him a small wave and take off your shoes. It feels so good to be home. You can’t help but breathe deeply as you enter the main part of your apartment.

“Please get this beast off me.” Sukuna demands as you walk over to the two of them.

“Poor baby.” You coo at Toffee and scoop her up into your arms. Sukuna rolls his eyes as you baby her.

“She has been terrorising me all morning.” He tells you.

You raise an eyebrow, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I am a trustworthy source.” Sukuna says and stands, using his height on you as an intimidation tactic.

You don’t budge but a blush creeps up the back of your neck. Quickly moving out of the way so you don’t feel so caged in you put Toffee down and retreat to the kitchen.

“So how was your day?” You ask him, trying to defuse the heat in your cheeks.

“Fine.” He says straight to the point, his eyes still on you.

You both don’t really talk after that as you make dinner.

For being a demon he isn’t that bad of a person. You had expected him to trash your apartment or something of that nature. But your apartment was in mint condition and even Toffee was untouched. Maybe demons just get a bad reputation?

“So is the christian belief system real?” You ask as you sit down next to Sukuna with your dinner in hand.

He snorts, “You are speaking with a demon and you are asking whether I am real?”

“Well…” You trail off, embarrassed but still curious. Sukuna catches on quickly.

“You can choose which religion you want to be associated with.” He explains with a annoyed air to his voice, “Then you are judged by that belief system,”

Oh. That actually sounds great and rather inclusive.

The two of you lapse into silence again as you take in that information. You had been raised religious and it had affected your relationship with him. You had been terrified that he was a purely malicious being but he had proved you wrong.

After years of coming to terms with it you had been certain you would be going to hell but maybe there is a chance that you aren’t.

A fluttery feeling makes itself at home in your chest as you look him over.

“Do you want to continue with the book?” You ask, ignoring it.

“Yeah.”

After that day Sukuna and Toffee would be waiting for you on the couch when you come home from work. Sukuna claimed to not like the cat but she was always touching him in some way so you don’t really believe him. He had also taken a liking to cooking shows.

Demons can eat but apparently don’t truly need to eat. Something about the souls they consumed could keep them fed for thousands of years. Sukuna had bragged that he had consumed thousands of souls so food was no longer necessary for him. It was funny to see him watch those shows while denying any food you offer him.

But you were never one to kink shame.

“Why are you staring at me Woman?” He asks you, a brow raised in question.

You smile sweetly, “Just thinking! Also can I touch your horns? They are interesting.”

That earns you a nasty glare from the demon. It was bad for him that you lost your fear for him a few hours into his first day here. You respected his boundaries but that didn’t mean you didn’t poke them some times for a reaction.

“No you may not.” He growls at you and looks away with a huff.

You can’t help but giggle as he acts like a spoiled house cat. You also wonder if all demons are like house cats or are others more violent.

“Stop laughing.” He demands, his gaze returning to yours.

Trying hard to compose yourself you take a deep breath, only to laugh harder.

“Sorry!” You wheeze out as he looks more and more irritated with you.

Sukuna, much to his credit, only rolls his eyes. He gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. After your laughing fit you follow after him, curiosity in every step.

“What are you doing?” You ask him as he pulls out a few pots and pans.

“What does it look like?” He responds gruffly and you step out of his way so he can get to the stove.

“I thought demons don't need to eat?”

“I don’t need human food but I am bored so I thought I would try it.” He explains before practically pushing you out of your own kitchen.

Demons are weird beings.

A week after you summoned him you are fifty pages away from having it fully translated. There is a new sense of excitement and anticipation in you as the last page gets closer. But something pulls at your chest.

You don’t want Sukuna to go. He is good company, even his grumpiness is endearing in a way. Maybe you are just lonely but the closer the last page gets the more your heart drops into your stomach.

So when Haibara texts you about going out you take it as a way to prolong Sukuna’s stay. You put on the best dress you have, one that hugs you tight but not in an unflattering way.

Sukuna watches as you apply your makeup, it makes a shiver run down your spine to have his attention.

“Why are you staring at me?” You ask him over your shoulder.

He huffs and looks away, “I wasn’t.”

You giggle at his attitude and keep applying your mascara. Once you deem yourself fit to go out you get up. Sukuna watches your every movement and you try not to be too awkward under his gaze.

“Where are you going now?” He asks, his arms crossed and tail flicking with what you assume is irritation, just like a cat.

“Haibara asked me if I wanted to go out and we can finish up the translation tomorrow since I am off all day!” You explain and put on your heels.

His red eyes narrow but he doesn’t speak anymore. The air in the room gets colder somehow. You feel the tension rise in the room as you walk out the door into the hall.

That is new.

You are going out with a man.

Sukuna can feel his irritation rise by the minute. The rage prickles right under his skin. Another man is touching you in the way he should. He had never planned on getting attached to you but he now can’t handle letting you go.

At first it was just attraction, your body drove him wild. You didn’t seem to understand that he was affected by it. Then your laugh began to make his heart feel like it was dying. He was in far too deep to lose you to a stupid mortal man, he can’t please you like he could.

Maybe he should show you how much better he is than that man.

You feel good, the alcohol makes everything light and pleasant. It helps you not think about Sukuna who will be out of your life in a day. You can drink and forget.

“I think you should stop drinking!” Haibara yells over the loud music.

“I am not drunk!” You say and stand up only to wobble. Haibara is beside you in an instant, supporting you as you walk to the door.

“You are going to have the worst headache tomorrow.” He says with disapproval in his tone.

“It’s fine!” You tell him with a drunken giggle.

Haibara calls a cab and helps you into the back seat. You are a complete mess as you sit in the back seat.

He sits next to you as your drunken high turns to a drunken low. Tears prick your eyes as you remember that Sukuna is close to being out of your life. You sob into Haibara’s shoulder as he pats your back.

The cab driver stops the car and Haibara helps you out. You stumble a little but mostly make your way into the door by yourself. He has a hand on your lower back and a hand holding yours for balance.

Not deeming yourself fit for the stairs, Haibara helps you into the elevator. About halfway up to your apartment you realize that Haibara will want to help you into bed. He will see Sukuna and then you don’t know how to explain that to him.

‘Hey Haibara, so this is a demon I accidentally summoned that may or may not be dangerous and by the way I might have a major crush on!’

How do you get out of this situation?

You step out of the elevator and see your door. It feels too close for comfort, your bubbly drunk high is slowly replaced with mounting anxiety as you get closer. Haibara guides you to a stop in front of your door. As he goes to knock the door opens.

“How much did you drink?” Sukuna’s voice curls around your anxiety.

He looks… human. The ram's horns are gone and so is his tail. His eyes are more brown then red now but still have red undertones. The tattoos are still there but less prominent. Bagging jeans and a shirt have replaced the robe he was wearing.

Haibara looks confused between the two of you. Sukuna huffs and takes your left side to guide you into the apartment.

“Thank you for helping my girlfriend home.” He basically growls, Haibara looks even more confused at his comment and glare.

As the door shuts in his face the word ‘girlfriend’ swims around your mostly sober head. You are bright red as he guides you to the couch. He huffs in annoyance as you flop back onto it.

“You are so helpless like this.” He grouses as he kneels down to undo the buckles of your heels.

His hands are warm against your ankles and you are in shock. It's so much more gentle than before. You can still feel the tense air from when you left but as he helps you out of your heels his touch is tender.

His current appearance doesn’t help the images you now have in your head of Sukuna being your boyfriend. You can imagine slow mornings with him on your days off, him learning to like Toffee and being there when you get home.

If he could look like this at will then you could go out together-

“Stop thinking.” Sukuna leans up to flick your forehead and you put a hand to it in reflex.

“Sorry.” You mutter and look away from him.

“Was that the mortal who asked you out to the bar?” Sukuna’s gaze goes dark as he asks you.

“Yes-”

He rests both large hands on the back of the couch, his arms caging you in. Your face is mere inches apart as he looks at you with a mix of jealousy and lust. His red eyes trace your parted lips, then look up to you. Your breath hitches as his nose bumps with yours as he kisses you.

The kiss starts off slow, almost reverent, then his tongue licks your bottom lip. His pace quickens as you open your lips to let him in. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

“Mine.” He growls into your mouth, a hand resting on your thigh.

A heat ignites deep in your bones as he says it. His lips leave heated marks where they trace your skin. You gasp as his fingers ghost under the hem of your dress.

You need this. Ever since you saw him you knew you needed it. You wonder if he knows that because of the smirk on his lips as he kisses you. Sukuna flips your positions so you are straddling his lap, his hands rest on your hips as you adjust.

“You have been teasing me this entire time.” He says and his teeth graze your neck.

His teeth on your neck has you squirming in his lap. He chuckles at your reaction and sinks his teeth into your collar bone, not enough to hurt but enough to feel blood beed on the surface of your skin. As repentance he licks away the blood and kisses the broken skin.

With his hands on your hips he guides you as you grind on him slowly. It’s sinfully slow and you want more, need more.

“I need more!” You whine as his hands run up and down your sides.

“No one makes demands of me.” Sukuna says and reclines back to watch you grind down on his lap.

A languid smirk spreads on his lips.

Sukuna thinks about keeping you like this for all the times you had teased him. He thinks it a fitting punishment for you. It would be fun to watch you grind down on him and get no relief. He wonders if he could bring you to tears this way.

You would look so pretty with tears in your eyes. It would ruin the makeup you had put on for tonight. Your mascara would be running down your flushed cheeks as you beg him for release.

He cups your cheek and you lean into his touch. A pleading look on your face and a slight pout to your lips. How could he deny you with that expression on your face?

Dropping the human form it's easier to slip out of his clothes. The robe leaves nothing to the imagination as he grins at you.

Pulling your dress he gets a glimpse of what he has been craving for a week now. Your panties are soaked as you are perched on his lap. And your chest is almost spilling out of your lacey excuse for a bra.

Sukuna runs a hand down your body as you fiddle with the belt to his robe. He hisses as you expose his dick to the cold air of your apartment. It has been a few years since he has had a good fuck so his cock is sensitive to your light touch.

“Ride me, I want to be as deep inside of you as I can get.” He says as you run your hand over his length a few times.

You give him an innocent little smile as you sink down on him.

Sukuna thinks he might have gone to heaven as your tight cunt sucks him in. He grips your hips as you take all of him in. Your cunt might be the closest he will ever get to this pearly gates and he is happy with that. It was much more welcoming than that stuffy place.

You have a slight scrunch in between your brows as you adjust to his size. Soft hands find purchase on his broad shoulders as you steady yourself. After you settle you move.

“That’s it, you’ve got it.” He praises you as you ride him.

Sukuna feels you tighten around him as he says it. You must like praise, he will have to abuse that.

His hands trace up your stomach to the flimsy bra you have on. It doesn’t take long for his hands to rip the bra off of you. You look a little bit upset about that but it is replaced by pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth. There is no complaint out of you after that.

Your movements pick up pace as you reach your high. Sukuna sucking and biting on your chest is driving you closer. Trying to find something else to hold onto your hands snake up into his hair. Your fingertips graze the junction of his horns and his head.

Sukuna lets out a low growl as you touch them lightly, curious about how sensitive they are.

“I told you not to touch those.” He warns you.

“When have I- fuck-” Sukuna thrusts up into you, cutting off your sentence, “ever listened to you about stuff like that?”

“Maybe I will just have to fuck some sense into you.” He suggests and begins to fuck you in ernest.

You keep a firm hold of his horns as he picks up a brutal pace. It is both too much and not enough. Finally he finds your g-spot. Sukuna chuckles low in his chest as you whine and it goes straight to your clit. His deep thrusts become targeted at that spot as your body writhes on his lap.

Then you are over the edge, cumming all over his cock. It feels so good. Your thighs trimble as you milk his dick. He ruts up into you as your orgasm triggers his own. Sukuna’s teeth are at your collar bone as he cums. You pant as his teeth draw blood as he spills out into you. His iron grip on you tightens as he rides his high.

“I needed that.” Sukuna mutters into the crook of your neck. His breath tickles your neck and you let out a little giggle at his sudden clinginess.

“Me too,” You say but are cut off by a yawn, “but I would like to go to bed soon, I am tired.”

“I don’t think that you are in any position to make demands of me.” He looks at you with a self assured smirk.

You raise and eyebrow, “I own this house and I can never fuck you again if you want to be that way.”

He glares but stands up, his arms around you to keep himself in you. It felt intimate to be this close with him. He is warm and surprisingly gentle with you as you move to your bed.

Sukuna lays down on the bed with you buried in his chest.

“I am staying inside you.” He tells you with no room for argument.

“I have no objections.” You laugh and get comfortable.

It is quiet for a while after that as you two drink each other in. You don’t complain as it gives you time to think about what just happened and what will happen after you finish that book.

“Hey,” You say softly, “do you think that if we don’t finish that book you will not be sent back to hell?”

Sukuna blinks down at you in surprise, which smooths out into a smirk.

“I am sure that will work but are you prepared to keep me around?” He asks you.

“More than prepared- are you ready to deal with me?” You challenge him back.

“Always.”

You stand awkwardly against one of the gallery's white walls with a glass of champagne. People walk around looking at the different historical statues, papers and jewellery. Despite being here as a honoured guest it is still not your regular crowd of people.

This is also a little daunting to be here even after your rise to fame. Even with the pages missing the book and translation got the attention of both the historical and archaeological communities. You were shocked at all the recognition that you got from it.

You had expected a few people to notice and maybe a few to reach out to you about it but not fancy galas and snobby rich people thinking that they can just buy the book off of you.

That is how you have gotten into your current predicament.

“How much would you say this grimoire is worth? I have enough to purchase it and even a little more.” The man says with a slimy grin.

You can’t punch this man in the face, you have to accept an award later. So you need a different way out of this situation-

“Found you.”

A pair of strong hands come to rest on your hips. You look back to see Sukuna just behind you, a glare that could kill is pointed at the man talking to you.

“I was wondering when you would get here!” You exclaim and turn around to wrap your arms around his neck.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek he chuckles, “I got stuck in traffic.”

As if on cue the man talking to you practically sprints away. Sukuna looks completely unimpressed with the man as he makes his speedy exit. You laugh at his expression and tug his head down so he looks at you.

“That pretentious asshole doesn’t matter,” You tell him as he grins at you, “now let’s go get this award so I can get out of these heels.”

“I have no objections to that.” Sukuna drawls and lets you take his hand to pull him through the crowd of people.

Maybe opening that old book wasn’t such a bad idea.

tags: @maryhyun254 @yangtze-06

#I pray I got his personality right #this is my first time writing Sukuna so plz be nice #alternative title- how to summon and fuck a demon for history nerds #blue’s fics <3 #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader

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short-honey-badger · 5 months ago

Note

Hi dear mera💕🫂 how are you? I have an ask hehe if you are still taking them if not it's alrighty 🥰 could you make a shamrock ABO Soulmate au? Pretty please ❤️ have marvelous day💕

My dear, I really hope I did your request justice. It got a little out of hand and will most likely have a part 2, lol. It's just kind of evolved into something more than just a one-shot, I think 🤷‍♀️. I do hope you enjoy it, though!

Sandalwood and Rose

Pairings! Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Warnings! Slavery and slave auctions! Reader has a bit of a dark past. Shamrock is trying his best, okay?

Masterlist for Shamrock-> HERE

It doesn’t happen very often, but on the occasion that Figarland Shamrock does have some free time, his usual haunt is the Sabaody Archipelago. The string of connected islands always had something interesting happening, and even the alpha became curious about the different going-ons that surrounded him. So, as to not draw attention to himself, Shamrock would dress down into common clothes, toss his red hair up into a proper ponytail, and shove his feet into a pair of sandals.

He looked even more like his twin like this and was occasionally confused with Shanks, but it gave him some form of anonymity, so the alpha usually didn’t mind. People were more comfortable with his younger brother, so it allowed Shamrock to experience the world without the stink of fear permeating around him. Today, he had wandered close to the auction house, sharp ears, and sensitive nose picking up a scent that broke through the sour smell of terrified people being sold as slaves.

Curious, Shamrock made his way inside and sat near the back, shrouded in shadow and unnoticed by the patrons inside. He breathes deeply, sorting through the amalgamation of different smells until he latches on to the one that had brought him inside in the first place. Whoever it belonged to hadn’t made it on the stage yet, so he settled into his chair and waited.

He had an inkling about why this particular scent had drawn him in. It didn’t happen often, and it only happened between alpha and omega, but if the two parties were compatible, a dyad would form a connection between the sexes that was near impossible to break. Many equated the phenomenon to that of a soulbond, Shamrock just didn’t think such a rare thing would ever happen to him.

He had to wait a while, but eventually, another set of unfortunate civilians and captured pirates were brought out on the stage. The scent of soft sandalwood and rose hit him square in the face, and Shamrock zeroed in on the omega who stood at the end of the line, hands bound in chains. He could tell when you noticed him, head jerking up and meeting his gaze over the heads of the countless alphas and betas that separated the two of you. A sudden need overtook the alpha, a feeling of rage alighting in his breast at the sight of you shackled and vulnerable in front of so many people.

Shamrock stands without thinking, loping forward and down the stairs, heedless of the whispering that suddenly erupted at his sudden appearance. Disco was still rambling away on stage, informing the patrons about each omega and their talents. He halts to a stop when he notices the approaching redhead, eyes going wide as he scrambles back away from the edge of the stage.

“And what a surprise this is! Red-Haired Shanks in my auction house! Even someone like yourself must be interested in one of the healthy omegas on stage. Hmm?”

Shamrock came to a stop just in front of you, burgundy eyes taking you in. You met his gaze head on, something desperate and pleading in the depths of your eyes that made his instincts scream at him to tuck you away somewhere safe and sound. Unbidden, his own scent of clean leather and steel curled forward, and he watched your shoulders relax just a fraction when it reached you.

“This one,” He demands without taking his eyes off of you. Disco huffed and peacocked at his words, but Shamrock’s patience had run thin, and he cut his eyes at the beta, a snarl pulling his lips back to show off his impressive set of teeth, “Now.”

“Fine, fine!” Disco crowed and produced a key, unlocking the chain connected to the other omegas lined up on stage and dropping the length of it into Shamrock’s waiting hands, “Just don’t forget to pay.”

The redhead ignored the auctioneer, far too focused on striding forward to the edge of the stage where he beckoned you near with a jerk of his head. You scrambled closer, a look of intense relief on your face when Shamrock opened his arms for you to throw yourself against him. He catches you with ease, tucking the omega closer and shoving his nose into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent.

The rose is so much stronger now that he has you close, and he feels his shoulders loosen now that he has you pressed up against him. Without a word, Shamrock spins on his heel and marches out of the auction house, mind set on a mission to get you out of sight of the other alphas who dared to wolf whistle and leer at you. Shamrock would not describe himself as a nice man, but even he was above that kind of behavior.

Shamrock marches on without a real destination in mind, simply content for now to have you pressed so close to him where he knows that you will be safe. He only slows to a stop when he can’t sense anyone else around him, deep in the thick trucks of the mangroves of the archipelago. You have yet to lift your head, but Shamrock doesn’t mind, not when it allows him to check you over.

You are littered with small scars, the rags you have been put in easily showing off the thin lines of scars that criss cross your back. He shoves down the rage that bubbles up in his chest at the sight and continues his examination. You are far too thin for his like, ribs poking out and arms willowy and weak. Your hair is an unwashed, tangled mess that smells of old sweat and the sour stink of fear. He clutches you that much closer, nose nudging against your jaw as he wraps his own scent around you.

“Thank you.”

Your voice is rough, scratchy from crying. You lift your head, eyes meeting the alpha that holds you so tightly, and give him a tiny wobbly smile. You breathe deeply, feeling better when that warm leather and sharp steel scent pours into your lungs, the alpha’s calming pheromones making you relax further in his hold.

Shamrock tries for a smile his brother might give, small and reassuring, and it feels odd painting his lips, but it must do this trick, for his omega blushes and ducks her head, “You don’t have to thank me for saving you.”

You shrug, eyes going glassy for a moment, “I wanted to.”

Shamrock just hums and shifts your weight in his arms. He needed to get back to Mariejois. He’s already been gone far longer than he usually allows himself, and now he has you to take care of. However, he finds himself reluctant to do so, knowing that his father would be the first to know that he had found his mate, and would be furious at you for being a commoner, a slave. He did not want to subject you to Garling, not now, not yet.

“What is your name?” he asks and settles on the ground instead, his back pressed up against one of the trees as he moves you so that you are settled on his lap. The shirt you wear slides down a shoulder and reaches forward to fix it back into place without a second thought.

“_.” You murmur, and feel your heart flutter in your chest at the kind gesture. It was rare for you to be around an alpha who didn’t immediately want to tear your rags off, but this red-haired man was your kindred, your dyad, your mate.

“Disco called you Shanks, but I know that you aren’t him,” you say in soft curiosity. You’d never seen the emperor in person, but you have seen his bounty poster, and the man who held you so gently certainly looked like Shanks, but there were a few key differences there. The additional arm and lack of facial scarring.

“You’re right,” he agrees with a weary smile, “He is my twin brother.”

Shamrock once again finds himself reluctant. This time to share with you the knowledge of just who he was. His people, the royal family, are the reason that you wore the marks on your back, why you had been chained up in line with other omegas, waiting to be sold off to the highest bidder. Shamrock may have not bought you, but he was still a celestial dragon. He did not wish to frighten you now that he had you.

“And your name?” You ask him and then frown down at your shackled wrists when you move your hands. You want to touch your alpha to make sure that this was real and not some dream your mind has conjured up.

To give himself some time, Shamrock focuses on the cuffs around your wrists. He snaps the weak iron with a flare of his strength, pulling the thick metal from your wrists and dropping them to his side. He takes your hands in his own, fingers gently massaging the red skin that’s been left behind.

You shiver at the touch, eyes going half-lidded in pleasure at having this powerful alpha touch you so gently. You look up, face burning hot again when you catch those burgundy eyes with your own.

“You may not like who I am.”

His quiet words make you tense slightly before his scent catches up with you again, and you relax once more. You suck it up greedily, eyes shuttered and tongue sweeping out to wet your lips, “Tell me.”

The alpha shifts under you, looking nervous for a split second before the emotion clears up into determination, “I am the leader of the God Knights, Figarland Shamrock.”

Dread and fear well up inside of you at his admission, your scent of soft sandalwood and rose turning sour like old wine. You tense in his hold, back going rigid as you stare down at the alpha. You would never be able to escape them, would you?

A wet laugh escapes you, the sound a bit hysterical, but you make no move to try and escape him, for what would be the point?

“Darling?” Shamrock murmurs, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, holding you gently as you laugh, tears welling up and sliding down your cheeks to drip and stain the shirt he wears. He isn’t prepared for this kind of reaction, had tensed in preparation for you to try and run from him, for you to yell and snarl and bare those omega teeth in threat, not whatever this was.

“I’ll always be a slave, won’t I?” You say between, voice turning into a hiccuping mess. You grip his shoulders, eyes turning a bit wild at the edges. His scent attempts to calm you, but you are far too worked up now, “I’ll never be free.”

Shamrock feels stricken. He wasn’t good at providing comfort, and that familiar rage began to climb up his throat again. Not at you, how could he be angry with you over being so broken, but at his own people, at himself, even indirectly, for being the cause of your fear. How could you believe him when he was a slaver himself?

“Darling, I-,” He cuts himself off, face turning into a dark scowl. Shamrock doesn’t know what to tell you. He would be expected to show you to his father the moment he arrived back at the household, and he knew it would send you right back over the edge. He would not be able to hide you, not when he knows that his own scent has changed already, his warm leather and steel already entwined with your own sandalwood and rose.

Were you some omega he had just met. His mate, his dyad - his alpha screamed at him, is it more important than the life he has dedicated himself to? Would he bring himself to leave the only life he has ever known just so that you would know freedom?

They would be hunted down by the god knights if they left, the punishment unimaginable if they were to be caught. Could Shamrock take that risk? For himself, for you?

When he looks at you and sees that resigned horror in your eyes, sees the way that you seem to have already given up, Shamrock finds that he could. He did not wish for you to live a life sequestered away, hidden like some terrible secret just because of where you came from. You wanted to be free so he would make it happen, regardless of the consequences.

“We will run,” he says, and now that it’s been said out loud, the more the decision solidifies in his mind. The god knight lifts his hands, holding your face between his palms as he meets your eyes. They are full of disbelief and tentative hope, “We will run, and you will be free.”

The omega in his hold keens and throws herself at him, hands sliding up to cup just under his ears, lips meeting his own in a kiss of desperate relief. Shamrock kisses you back with ease, matching your frantic pace. The touch of his mate’s lips against his own makes all the pain and stress that would inevitably crash around them worth it, and he knew just who could help the two of them.

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff

#one piece #reader insert #one piece x reader #figarland shamrock x reader #figarland shamrock #shamrock x reader #shamrock one piece #one piece manga spoilers

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astrologydayz · 2 years ago

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PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS//ASPECTS - SYNASTRY♤

SUN CONJUNCT/TRINE MOON = Sun being Moon's gatekeeper🗡🦁. Moon feels safe&secure with Sun, because Sun can take one look at Moon persons face &know exactly what they feel at any given moment. Like embarrassment, anger, sadness, happiness etc. People could also question why they don't date - if they're into whatever gender the other one is, ofc. And if you're not family ofc. This is a soulmate aspect!! So they can definitely see each other as platonic soulmates. &they're usually also best friends/or VERY close at least. People they date, can get VERY jealous of their relationship, &VERY insecure about the closeness they share, without it even being anything romantic!! Moon always feels like they can share ANYTHING they want2 with Sun!! They won't "hide" from Sun, ever. They’ll go through fire 4Sun🥺. Sun will guide Moon! & Sun will ALWAYS lead here, not saying they won't let Moon decide anything, But Sun will always be the one 2 take the "final decision". &Moon doesn't have a problem with that - at least not the trine. The conjunction can sometimes go both ways😘. Look at sign/s/house/s 2 c how & where Sun guides Moon🌙/where - how Moon always shows up 4 Sun☀️.

SUN SQUARE/QUINCUNX MOON = Moon doesn't always feel comfortable sharing what they feel, cuz if they do, Sun can react in a way they don't like, so they would rather keep it in at times. Sun can be too dominating, too decided on "leading"/deciding things. Moon will end up with all these feelings of frustrations, bc they keep it in. So at some point = they'll end up starting fights, getting so frustrated that they just CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANYMORE. Sun can be too focused on their own needs/wants, that they can tend 2 not take Moon's feelings into consideration. Sun can think of Moon as 2 emotional, 2 sensitive, that they should grow up. Sun can also be "2much in Moons business", 2probing. They can still be close tho, but there will always be some of the issues, I mentioned above. I call friendships with this aspect FRENEMIES!! Moon can't be 100% open emotionally, & Sun can't be 100% who their ego wants them 2 be. Look at signs/houses 2 c where Sun can get ego trips & why/where Moon feels unheard/misunderstood.

MERCURY CONJUNCT/TRINE NEPTUNE = this aspect can show a telepathic connection between 2 people/"where u meet each other on another plane"/or in dreams. U can listen 2 a lot of music together/make music together/watch a lot movies/be creative af/create art together! Mercury can inspire Neptune 2 go for their dreams, instead of just dreaming of them💫. Mercury is like Neptune's hype man! Neptune knows what the Mercury person thinks about, a lot of the time. They can have MANY conversations about things our mind ain't sure about. Like life after death/if there's a god/karma/aliens etc. Neptune will have the Mercury person thinking about why they're here, 4sure. Spirituality can also be a big thing! Look at house/s/signs 2 c how/why Mercury will inspire Neptune2create, & where/how Neptune will make Mercury rethink their life. The conjunction can go both ways💜.

MERCURY SQUARE/QUINCUNX NEPTUNE = IF u create art together, or something like that = 100% different visions about whatever u create/arguments about it. Mercury can lie 2 Neptune person a lot, even about dumb shit. Like about what they had for dinner😵‍💫 . Neptune can't really communicate with Mercury person about their dreams/hopes. Mercury can't understand/c Neptune's "vision". Mercury can criticize Neptune. Like Mercury telling Neptune person that their dreams are unrealistic/or Neptune ain't good enough 4 what they want 2 achieve. Mercury can feel small/ambitionless, bc Neptune dreams are so big/dreamlike. What Neptune wants2 achieve is something Mercury could feel jealous of. Neptune can have rose coloured glasses on a lot. Like a person with 100% full vision, walking with their own eyes closed. But they do know if Mercury is lying tho, or they just have a feeling about it. They just choose "2 skip it". Look at houses & signs 2c where/how Mercury is deceiving/tearing down Neptune, & how/where Neptune can make Mercury person feel anxious.

VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE SATURN = Venus can depend on Saturn person financially, or on Saturn creating stability for Venus! like Venus living at Saturns house/at Saturns property, or Saturn always being the one “who picks up” Venus/is the one who’s there 4 them etc. Venus always know that they can depend on Saturn. Venus can feel very loved, &cared for by Saturn. Saturn brings a "fatherly" kind of love. They can also be the one who picks Venus up after parties/when Venus goes out & needs 2be picked up. They can be in each others life for a very long time. Venus can feel like there's a lot 2 live up 2/Venus can be afraid of disappointing Saturn. Saturn just wants Venus 2 do the best they can! But the way they go about it can be a little hard sometimes🤔. Venus quickly sees that it'll end up helping them in the end tho! Saturn will always be there to 2 remind Venus that there's another day&another try, if they don't succeed the 1st time. Karma from a past life/or created in this one! Look at house/s & sign/s 2c where your karma is/where Saturn "saves" Venus & where Venus loves&support Saturn, always.

VENUS SQUARE/QUINCUNX SATURN = Venus can get treated like a little kid by the Saturn person. Saturn telling them what they should, or shouldn't do/what they should like, or shouldn't like. Saturn mocking/putting Venus down because of their own insecurities. Saturn can be jealous of Venus, &can try 2 one up them a lot. Saturn feels like Venus ain't dependable, so they're not either. Saturn here teaches Venus how to love themself, &find out what they need/don't need in friendships/family relationships, whatever platonic connection it is. Saturn can't be there 4 Venus, as Venus needs them2. Venus can have internal conflicts with themself about letting Saturn go/Cutting them off. Bad Karma between them from a past life, that they need 2 get done with in this life. Or bad karma being created in this one. One of them owes something to the other one/or will owe something 2 the other. look at houses&signs 2 c where/how karma is being created/where it's getting dealt, &done with. Where/how Saturn treats Venus person like an imbecile, &where/how Venus makes the Saturn person insecure.

MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE MOON = Mars can help Moon with standing up for themselves/teaching them how to fight back/or teaching them how to defend themselves. Mars can be hardcore protective sometimes, bc they feel a need 2 help Moon in any kind of "danger" situation. Moon can feel like Mars is a bit 2 much sometimes, but won't have a problem with it, cuz they're kinda used2 it, &can find it comforting. Moon can help calm Mars down, when mars need someone to vent 2. They can have fights sometimes, & not talk for a little while but they almost always come back together, and agrees to disagree. Mars can think Moon is 2 sweet for their own good, and think they're a little bit naive sometimes. Look at house/s & sign/s 2 c how & where Mars helps/protects Moon, & where&how Moon can guide Mars when it comes 2 their temper/aggressions. The conjunction can go both ways, so also read what I've written down under here.

MARS SQUARE/QUINCUNX MOON = Mars can gaslight Moon a whole fucking lot. Making moon feel cornered, unsure, & uncomfortable. Mars is too aggressive for Moon's liking. Moon can even be kind of scared, not ever knowing what Mars persons next actions will be. Mars can think that Moon needs too much attention/2demanding of Mars, or that they're way 2 emotional/sensitive - a crybaby in their eyes. Moon can become quiet a whole lot, when Mars starts2 become mean/aggressive. They want to yell, &scream but won't. Moon will hold all of it in for a long time. They'll start2 feel some kind of resentment towards Mars at some point, And when they're feeling enough resentment = they'll end up erupting on Mars, &even Mars will be surprised by this. Look at houses & signs 2 c where/how Mars gaslights/is 2 aggressive towards Moon, & how/where Moon is 2 emotional/2needy for Mars.

POF CONJUNCT/TRINE NORTH NODE = North Node person is the one receiving/benefitting from the POF person. Let it be material, or spiritual success/growth. Even higher knowledge. North Node person NEEDS this from POF person! They need it 2 grow and evolve in this life/them getting a step closer towards what they need 2 do here. And it's something that's constant with North Node, like North Node person will always be the one benefitting from POF person, unless they have a double whammy ofc.

BML conjunct DSC = can show that the Lilith person, will ruin house persons relationships with other people. Lilith can also decide, or at least try 2 decide who the DSC person is "supposed" 2 talk 2🐈🐈.

⚡️ Uranus conjunct DSC = causes the DSC person 2 find the Uranus person "unreliable", "not understanding of their needs", "Uranus being eccentric, and not always available 4 house person"❄️. Uranus could come & go a lot. U could like that energy, if u have Uranus aspecting your DSC in your natal chart.

REMEMBER 2 ALWAYS LOOK AT BOTH NATAL CHARTS2!!💋 REALLY EVERYTHING, SO YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW IT PLAYS OUT!! THANKS4READING!!!

I appreciate u❤️

#astro community #venus #synastry #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astrology notes #mars astrology #black moon lilith

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northgazaupdates · 1 year ago

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18 June 2024

Photographer Ibrahem Abo Gazalih reports via Instagram Stories that while working in the Al-Sahaba market square in Gaza City, a man was shot to death by an IOF quadcopter. He was a civilian trying to provide for his family, shot while seated in a chair at his stall.

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theycalledhimastar · 1 year ago

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I demand your take on ABO 141 with a male reader PLEASE, there's never any good male stuff

Bestie do NOT give me this kind of brainrot, but also I accept the gift graciously-

Also, I had no idea what you wanted the male reader to be so there's a bit of everything so everyone's happy :) They come off a little oc-ish to me, the way I did the reader but oh well, I like it.

Forgive me for anything I got wrong, I'm not an A/B/O master guys. This was way longer than I initially planned, lol. Enjoy!

Omegaverse!141 x Male reader!!!

I'm not the most bright brained alright, I agree with literally everyone else and I think Price and Ghost would both be Alphas with Gaz and Soap being betas, it just makes sense in my mind. The two Alphas need the cool-headed inbetweens to keep them from toppling everything and/or butting heads from too much hormones going around.

They're all fairly skeptical about yet another person joining them for any given reason, four people is plenty and having yet another person in the fray, while it might be helpful sometimes, is a bit of a balancing act to fit into their already perfect schedule. Changing things to accommodate you, while not the worst thing, isn't the most easy feat for everyone. Especially depending on what you are...

☄. *.

You were an Alpha, purebred, built like a brick wall and about as stubborn as one too. Although you weren't loud about it, you weren't going to let people forget tat you were not to be messed with. Raised with a bit of an ego as most purebred Alphas were, you knew you were destined for greatness from the moment you presented. Started physical and mental training as soon as you were old enough, the goal had always been the military for you, no doubts about it. But you had never imagined, in all your wildest dreams, that you would be a part of the task force.

Most people, upon first glance, would likely assume you fit right in, but shoehorning you in with two other alphas was way harder than anticipated, seeing as you immediately began trying to prove yourself before you had gotten settled in. Which, would have been adorable if you weren't so damn stubborn about it.

Ghost is working out? You join him without a second thought, attempting to lift twice as much as what he's doing. Of course, his numbers were already nothing to scoff at, so all you truly succeeded in, was nearly dropping the weight on your foot and damaging your precious alpha pride. "You alright there tough guy?" Ghost seemed amused by your ambitious failure.

"Shut up." Was all you growled in retaliation, storming off to go sulk elsewhere.

Soap is practicing at the range with Gaz? You grab a pistol and try to show off just how capable you are with it, easy right? Not really. You fumble in a way you weren't even sure you understood, and to put it simply, you missed the target significantly and blew an entire round trying to make amends. By the time you had finished it, the sergeants were trying not to lose their composure and die laughing at your cockiness despite it all. Damnit, you could normally do this all so easy, what the hell was wrong!? You set down the weapon with a nearly frightening calmness despite the seething rage in your chest that demanded respect as an alpha. Your self-righteous upbringing had done you no good now as you stormed off to go beat the shit out of the next inanimate object that pissed you off.

"How exactly did he make it here?" "Eh, cap says he's good. Let 'im cool off, I'm sure he knows what he's doin."

There was no cooling off, of course, as you ended up nearly punching a hole in the wall as you had graciously slammed into the doorway in your blind rage, smacking yourself square in the nose and nearly toppling over in pain. That was, quite honestly, the last straw for your dignity as you snarled something ferocious. Not caring that it had been rather close to the Captain's office until you were unceremoniously yanked back by your scruff, held face-to-face with the unamused John Price. Although you were an alpha, even you couldn't quite deny the effect his scent had on you now. Not one of anger, but certainly not a playful one either. He was projecting his authority, silently telling you to quiet down a little and stop being such a loudmouth showoff. Shame and something akin to an excited fear sparked briefly in the pit of your stomach before you cleared your throat and swallowed hard.

"Captain." You nodded shortly, not missing the way his hand tightened around the back of your neck.

"Heard you've been causing a bit of a ruckus for the others, been busy?" He raised a thick brow, making you swallow back your nerves. You attempted to shoot back some of your own alpha scent, but it felt puny and overpowered entirely by his.

"Not intentionally, sir."

"Let's settle down a little, you've barely been here a week, quit causing trouble or I'll have to take care of your behavior myself. Got it?" He leans close, you could swear he was breathing on the back of your neck now and you know for a fact your heart is racing for reasons you don't think are fear.

Not wanting to find out what he means by that just yet, you give a quick nod that seems to satisfy him enough to let you go. Allowing you to scamper back to your room, the adrenaline cushioning what was going to be a very hurt ego when it settled in that you had been grabbed by the collar and scolded like a child. Damnit, you would prove yourself one way or another...

☄. *.

You were a Beta, always being told you were unremarkable, nearly always forgotten in the squabble between Alphas and Omegas. So, in an effort to at least be something impressive to yourself, you took to bulking up. Genetics and luck both seemed to favor you as you certainly bulked up. To the point where you were constantly mistaken for an Alpha by anyone that didn't truly know you. If they did, they would know that you were far more of the beta disposition in reality. Laid back, cheerful, extroverted enough to make friends, but not gratingly so. The perfect addition to the task force at first glance...

Minus the fact that you were both clumsy, and a little bit ditsy from time to time.

Sure, you weren't incapable, you could definitely hold your own in battle. But it seemed that when the adrenaline wasn't pumping through your veins, you were a tangle of long limbs and jumbled thoughts. It was obvious that you weren't trying to be a mess, but the others seemed to assume you were up to something. Surely, a mountain of a man like you, such a capable Beta on the battlefield, can't be such a... dolt in real life, right?

The same man they had witnessed absolutely nail a small squadron all by his lonesome, had momentarily forgotten how to lace his boots after unlacing them entirely to replace them. And had practically tied his feet together.

"You think he knows he's doin' it wrong?" "Oh he has to by now... right?" "Guys, did I get it? I'm so confused, why is this so weird!?"

Not to say you were entirely unaware of yourself, you knew you were scatterbrained at times. But you didn't know that they had assumed you were taking them for a fool sometimes. The sergeants decided to confront you about it, with Soap cornering you after a particularly amusing incident.

"Mate, ye know we've seen ye on the field right?" He sighed, running his fingers through his overgrown curls. "uhh, yeah?" You kind of stared between the two of them, completely confused as to where the conversation was going. Gaz snuck behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a friendly manner. "Right, so you don't have to act like a total numpty off the field, you aren't foolin' anyone anymore." He chuckled, nudging your head with his playfully. It would have been a comforting thing, except for the fact that you had no clue what they were on about. "What do you mean?" "Stop acting like such a hare-brained dingus. Just be yourself, mate." He shook your shoulders gently, the two staring at you so earnestly, just trying to convince you to just be yourself around them. "Oh... About that..."

Of course after that, they both felt really bad and you had to explain for over an hour that no, it wasn't on purpose, yes, you were that messy sometimes, and no, you weren't mad for their assumption. Although Ghost certainly seemed to find it hilarious that you were such a gentle giant, and a total hot mess express. Not that he told you that, truth be told, he didn't feel the need to talk to you much off of the field. Not because he didn't like you, he simply felt you fit in so well with the betas and he didn't want to throw off things. Although he did want to know how you had gotten so huge naturally.

Price thinks you're downright precious with the stark contrast between on and off duty with you. It's like you become a completely different person and he can't help but smell the scent of a content beta every time he tells you that you've done him good. He was certain that everyone could tell just how excited you were when he referred to you as "his good lad". It was a simple nickname, rolled off his tongue before he could stop it, but you nearly lit up in elation. So now not only him, but everyone else makes an attempt to give you subtle little praises like that just to see you get all giddy, and to this date you have yet to notice, or at least say anything about it.

☄. *.

You were an omega, not what any of them expected when they were told that someone would be joining them, as omega were notoriously... well... Violence avoidant to put it simply. But you were not the type that wanted to feed into stereotypes. You wanted any excuse to not become some boring old stay-at-home omega that took care of children and housework. The parts of the world you had grown up in were very traditional and expected just that of you. "Settle down with a nice Alpha, have babies, live the peaceful life." Yeah right, it was like they didn't even know what you wanted.

So, in an effort to escape that life, you decided to enlist, and it turned out that you were... actually kinda good at it despite it all. Your fight or flight chose to flee more often than not, but that meant you were quick on your feet despite the stomach churning levels of anxiety that pulsed through your veins at any given moment. Your adrenaline raced and kept you moving before you could chicken out, and that made you a damn good soldier.

Off field was a different story but that didn't really matter seeing as you liked minding your own business and having your own space more often than not.

When you first met all of them, the aura of two alphas was quite a lot, especially as it seemed at least Ghost was projecting a little bit more than he needed to, getting across the point that there was an order to the way things were and you needed to not ruin that. (He's just nervous having an omega around as he isn't used to it and he isn't sure exactly how to act around you.)

Gaz is rather quick to step in and soothe you with his beta scent, like warm coffee and vanilla and something distinct that you hadn't ever smelled before. But it soothed your racing nerves and made you feel a little less alienated. Although with a nudge from John, Ghost realized he was only successfully scaring you, and he cut it out just as quickly.

Johnny is excited to have an omega around, although he doesn't really treat you any different than Gaz. It's the equivalent of short people acting different when they're around someone shorter than them, yknow? Like he doesn't see you as beneath him, he just knows you're different than anything he's been around and he's nosey about absolutely everything.

"Do all Alphas scare you?" "No... why would they?" "I dunno, it seemed like every omega I met before was either addicted to Alphas or terrified of em." "Uh, no, I think you just knew weird people before."

Another thing, is that Price seems to view you as a sort of stray cat. Skittish if anyone approached you a little too loudly or excitedly, but plenty sweet if they got to know you. At least, that was how it was in his head. In reality, you were just an introverted guy who wanted to at least get along with his teammates and they thought you were the cutest thing ever. Sometimes, John would call you into his office just to tell you that he noticed your hard work and he was proud of you. He loved the way your cheeks flushed whenever he got close or projected his scent a little extra, filling the room with the scent of expensive cigars and warm, woody cologne. It made you a little fuzzy int eh head and he could tell, so he avoided using it. But the face you made when you got all spacey and distracted during meetings because you were sandwiched between him and Ghost, it was just too good to resist.

"You alright there sergeant?" "Yes sir, all-all good." "You look a little flushed, you sure you're not coming down with something?" He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, trying not to smile wider when your eyes widened just slightly. "Positive, Captain..." You squeaked.

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #gaz cod #john price #captain john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #Omegaverse #cod omegaverse #omega reader #alpha reader #beta reader #fanfic writing

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f1-stuff · 11 months ago

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VICTORIAN CHARLOS ROYALTY ABO you have sent me into chaotic overdrive with that sentence oh boy am I excited to read that!!!!!!!! Thank you to your brain as always

Hehe I'm glad you're excited!! So am I... 😏 which is why I'm going to share a bit of it now!!! 😝 (sometimes, I simply can't help myself)

For some exposition, Charles is the crown prince of Monaco and an omega, Carlos is the alpha son of a Spanish duke (but distantly in line for the throne, which also makes him a prince). Their meeting has been arranged by carlos' father & cousin and charles' uncle, which makes this a sort of arranged marriage AU, except that Charles still gets to choose his husband in the end. Charles is almost twenty-one, and he's looking forward to certain freedoms that will award him. All of this was inspired by The Young Victoria (2009).

Behold, a 1.8k-word snippet:

Charles’ eyes scan over the chess board, carefully considering his next move. He can feel the looks of the rest of their party burning into the side of his face. He glances sideways to confirm his suspicions, and notes several people averting their eyes in a hurry.

When he looks back to Carlos, the other man is giving him a conspiratorial smile. Charles sighs, his lips curving up at the edges as he settles on moving his rook.

Ever since their walk earlier that afternoon, Charles’ feelings have...softened slightly toward the Spaniard. He much prefers when the man isn’t feeding him answers that he believes Charles will like, and luckily, it seems they’ve mostly done away with that nonsense now. There’s no doubt that Carlos is...handsome. Or that his scent seems designed to tempt Charles. But he’s smart enough to know that Carlos has his own motivations for being here, and that it would benefit him and his family very much indeed if they were to wed. Charles has no intention of finding a mate yet, not when his freedom is so close at hand.

As Carlos decides on his next move, Charles’ face begins to burn once again from the others’ returned stares. His jaw clenches.

“Do you ever feel like a chess piece yourself? In a game being played against your will?” He doesn’t bother to lower his voice. It would likely be futile, not to mention that he would welcome his words having a shaming effect on their company. If only.

Carlos’ curious gaze rises to meet his own. He takes a moment to respond, brows furrowing as he considers Charles’ words.

“I hadn’t thought of it. But I suppose so, yes.”

“I do, constantly,” he sighs. “I feel their eyes assessing me, their fingers moving me round the board.”

“Your parents?”

“Everyone. My uncle, brother, advisors, politicians... They’re all ready to seize hold of me and drag me from square to square.” He chuckles to lighten the tone, and Carlos’ lips make an effort to smile, but fall short.

Carlos glances over at the others, before his attention returns to the board and he finally makes his move. “Then, you had better master the rules of the game until you play it better than they can.”

His eyes meet Charles’, and they hold there, candlelight flickering within their depths in a hypnotizing pattern. It feels like it takes all of Charles’ willpower to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“You don’t recommend I find an alpha husband to play it for me?” he asks, raising a brow as his rook takes Carlos’ pawn.

“I should find one to play it with you, not for you.”

Charles feels delighted surprise drip down his spine as he considers Carlos’ words. He’s never really...thought about marriage like that. It had always seemed like another prison he would be forced into. But if he were to choose a mate and a husband as an equal, someone who would play with him, like Carlos suggests...

They continue playing for a moment in silence, as Charles decides how to respond, but he’s been thrown off slightly, Carlos proving once again to be unexpected.

“You know, my father wants me to marry King Torger’s nephew, George.” He sees the flicker of distaste that flashes across Carlos’ face, and has to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Hm,” Carlos grunts, picking up his bishop. “What’s he like at chess?” He knocks Charles’ pawn aside, then looks up and grins.

Charles stifles a laugh, glancing over at his family. His uncle and mother are smiling contentedly down at their laps, his mother with her embroidery and his uncle with his newspaper. Charles’ good mood dims slightly, realizing how easily he’s playing into their hands by enjoying Carlos’ company.

And yet he can’t help the affection and attraction that simmers within him when he looks back at Carlos and the scent of dewy grass and fresh oranges caresses his nose, so refreshing compared to the usual dusty stale air of the drawing room.

He wins their first game because Carlos underestimates him, like so many others. But Carlos requests a second match, and this time, manages to take the win. The excited buzz of a good challenge fills Charles with a restless energy that he hasn’t felt in years, and they play a third game, then a fourth, and a fifth. Eventually, as the others are beginning to nod off in their chairs, they decide to retire for the evening.

He’s just taken Andrea’s hand to begin his ascent up the stairs when his name is called out behind him, followed almost immediately by that damn scent. Charles looks over his shoulder at Carlos, who almost appears out of breath, like he’d rushed to catch up to him. They had already said goodnight in the drawing room, but perhaps he’d thought of something else to tell Charles.

“It’s alright, Andrea. Carlos can take me up.”

Andrea’s eyebrow twitches slightly with displeasure, but he would never protest. He steps aside, Carlos taking his place.

“You’ll have to hold my hand,” Charles explains. “It is a ridiculous precaution, but Maman insists.”

“Of course,” Carlos says, bowing slightly.

He offers his hand to Charles, who takes it after the briefest of hesitations. It’s the first time their skin has touched, and Charles suppresses the shiver that rolls through him.

For a moment, they simply stand there, feet unmoving, as Carlos’ thumb settles gently over his knuckles. His hand is warm and large, his fingers slightly calloused, from riding or shooting perhaps. He holds onto Charles’ fingers just tight enough to reassure, but not so tight as to entrap him. It’s a delicate balance, and Charles wonders how he’s managed to find that sweet spot so gracefully.

With some effort, Charles forces his feet to move, and they begin their climb.

“Did you want to tell me something?” he asks.

“Ask you, actually. Your father - he didn’t join us tonight.”

“Yes. He is...his health is poor,” Charles says, pushing through the sadness and worry to give Carlos a polite smile. “We...do not know how much longer he has.”

“Ah.” Carlos swallows, and in his gaze, Charles sees the man’s love for his own father. His brown eyes dip at the outer edges in sympathy. “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“I would have loved to meet him.”

The sentiment makes Charles smile for real. He isn’t certain what his father would think of Carlos, but so far, there hasn’t been much to object on.

They climb a few more steps in silence, and only when they’re about to reach the top does Carlos speak again.

“I wanted to say that I may not entirely understand what you are going through, or just how much of a pawn you are feeling...” They pause on the landing. “But I know a bit of what it’s like to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else’s game. And I know a bit of what it’s like to feel as though your life is not your own.”

Charles studies him. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to imagine this alpha knows an ounce of what Charles has been through.

“Does your mother also assign someone to guide you up and down the stairs?” he asks, brow arched teasingly. Carlos lets out an amused huff, glancing down at their still clasped hands.

“No, indeed I do not shoulder that particular charge. But I do know how duty and obligation to one’s family, one’s country, can eclipse even your sense of self.”

That strikes a chord within Charles, who has wasted hours and hours of his life wondering who he really is beyond an omega, a prince. If these things were stripped away, who is he underneath?

“And yet,” Carlos continues, before Charles can formulate a response. “I am finding my current duty to my country to be much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.” Smiles spread over both of their faces, and something giddy and dangerous alights deep in Charles’ stomach.

Do not fall for it, Charles.

“Did your father instruct you to use all your charms on me?”

“My cousin, actually,” Carlos admits, startling a laugh out of Charles for his honesty. “He also told me not to let your beauty distract me. Yet, I confess, I have never been so distracted in my life.”

Charles wants to roll his eyes at the transparent attempt to romance him, but all his lessons in etiquette restrain him. Instead, he presses his lips together to prevent a smile, not wanting to give Carlos the satisfaction. Unfortunately, Carlos is watching his expression closely enough that he notes Charles’ attempt and responds with a smug grin of his own.

For a moment, they stand suspended, hands still holding one another’s, both unwilling to let go. And to his slight shame, it is Carlos who ends the stalemate, bowing at the waist to barely graze his lips against the back of Charles’ hand, his breath warm and startling. Charles’ heart stutters, but he schools his expression as the other man straightens once again, releasing his hand.

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

Charles is afraid to speak, worried his voice will betray just how overcome he is by the barest touch of lips on his skin - not even a kiss, really. Embarrassing.

So he simply nods, then turns and strides toward his rooms without looking back. It’s only when he’s almost through the door that he glances just one time over his shoulder to see Carlos descending the stairs.

He doesn’t wait around long enough to see if the other man looks back.

His attendant helps him undress while Andrea readies his bed. Charles brushes a thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the ghost of lips there.

“Will my lord miss the prince and princesses when they’re gone?” his attendant asks.

“Don’t be impertinent,” Andrea admonishes. Charles just smiles to himself as he undoes his necktie. “That young man pesters you.”

“Please, Andrea,” Charles sighs, shouldering off his waistcoat. “After all this time, you really think I’m going to walk straight into another jail?”

He’s taking off his shoes when Andrea eventually responds. “You must marry one day.”

“Well, I don’t see why I must,” he says, shaking his head. “But if I do, it shall be to please myself, and no one else - not Maman or Uncle or my father.”

So what if he never has children. There will always be another heir somewhere. Sure, it would be dangerous to remain an unmated omega. But if anyone could do it and survive, Charles thinks a sovereign prince, with more protection than anyone else in the country, could succeed.

He’s not marrying anyone just yet. Not even the charming Spaniard with the kind eyes.

#surprise!#i've just been so quiet about it that I finally decided enough was enough 😂#wip #anon #ask #victorian au #charlos #rpf #abo #omegaverse

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omegaversetheory · 3 months ago

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Headcannons about ABO dynamics's Evolution during history? Something that really fascinantes me about the omegaverse is the biological aspect of It and the Evolution that the 'secondary sexes and dynamics may have experienced over the years. Did alphas, omegas and betas exist since the beginning of the human race? Or at first there were only beta men and women and the rest of the dynamics appeared later?

I like to imagine that originally only existed beta men and women, but at some point the human race was at such big risk of becoming extinct that the secondary alpha/omega dynamics appeared as a mechanism to guarantee a higher chance of reproduction. The capacity of impregnating and getting pregnant being independent from the first sex (man or woman) would allow communities to keep growing despite having a lack of men or women, because there would still be a certain percentage of Alpha women/ omega men that can impregnate/be pregnant and compensate the lack of biological men and women (If we asume that the possibilities of becoming Alpha, beta and omega are all the same)

happy monday!

I've seen it both ways, I prefer writing the "always been this way" style because honestly it makes it easier for me and i have less questions I have to muddle through in the worldbuilding journey.

Here's some of my considerations -

the beta loving community is strong! making betas = normal humans doesn't normally play well with that crowd. Of course, I never write things or refrain from writing things for the pleasure of other people, but still.

if there was an event that impacted fertility rates like that - what's the point of having betas at all? and beyond that does that mean all alphas men and/or amab? are all omegas women and/or afab?

If not - this turns into sort of two phenomenons, 1. being the hypersexuality and hyper-fertility and 2. this suggests biologically at some point teens might develop the genitalia and secondary sex characteristics normally biologically reserved for the opposite gender. With my very small knowledge of what life is like as an intersex individual, I doubt that society would suddenly jump on this train like it's the bee's knees. What then???

Human evolution moves slowly - there are several vestigial elements that are fading out of the genome everyday - like having wisdom teeth, appendix, and a specific type of ear muscle. What sort of event/situation could spark such a large scale change so quickly (even over hundreds of years)?

If it's an evolution thing, that suggests an in and out group. Who are the out-group and what if they're not too into the whole omegaverse thing? (again looping back to the question of betas). Is the in group then a different specie of human alltogether?

If the purpose of this is to get fertility rates up, logically it wouldn't be the first thing that occured. Polyamory would likely become more popular - especially men with multiple wives unfortunately. The human litter size might get bigger. It would become socially acceptable to have children younger - or maybe menopause would start getting later and later. Maybe both. Having children would also need to become a lot cheaper - and if your society is quasi-modern, people would likely need massive incentives if the situation really was that dire. Nobody wants to have a baby just for that baby to have to experience the end of the world.

Regardless of all these considerations above, for anyone interested in developing their own omegaverse rules - do consider a punnet square. If you don't just want to have alphas and omegas, there needs to be some combination of their genes that leads to a beta - or they'll simply cease to exist.

Fertility/population is a tricky thing to use as a fantasy mechanism because in the real world, declining birth rates can't usually be attributed to one single thing - normally it's a multitude of factors converging on one another. Of course, this is inherently a fantastical genre which gives us all the freedom to play and have a little fun making stuff up along the way.

#ask answered #omegaverse #omegaverse science #omegaverse worldbuilding #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse au #omegaverse headcanons #did I really answer the question anon?#omegaverse debates #omegaverse history #writing #writing prompts #fantasy

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merrybloomwrites · 4 months ago

Text

I Hear Them Calling (Extra: Bonding)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: You and Harry head to Madison Square Garden to watch Niall perform. It brings up some memories for both of you, and leads to a lifechanging decision that leaves the two of you happier than ever.

Word Count: 3.8K

CW: mentions of previous attempted assault, smut, knotting, biting, ABO

AN: When I saw Niall at MSG last summer I knew I wanted to write an extra for this series where Harry and Y/N watch him there. I also knew the next major thing would be them bonding so decided that can all go together! Hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapters can be found here!

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“Can I scent you before we go tonight?”

You’ve just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body with your hair dripping down your back. You hadn’t noticed Harry standing in the bedroom, and you’re startled by him asking you a question.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he says.

“It’s fine. You want to scent me before the show?” You ask.

“Yea, if that’s alright with you.”

“Harry, of course that’s alright with me. You’re my alpha, I always like when you scent me. But you don’t normally do it when we go out together. Is everything okay?”

“My alpha’s a little on edge. I think it’s because we’ll be at MSG. I'm excited to watch Niall, but I think I’m nervous because of what happened to you there.”

You know exactly what he’s referring to. The first time you had been at MSG, an unknown alpha had followed you and used his alpha voice to corner you. If Harry hadn’t come to your rescue, there’s no telling what this man would have done to you.

Being an omega, you are amongst the most vulnerable and often targeted group in society. You were always on edge in public spaces, and that event had confirmed your worst fears. But, it had also introduced you to Harry. You’ve been dating now for almost two years and had gone public with your relationship a few months prior.

“I’m nervous too,” you say. “But I’ll be with you. And I know you’ll keep me safe.”

“Always.”

“Let me get ready and then you can scent me, okay?” He nods in agreement and you grab your clothes.

You’ve put a lot of thought into your outfit for the night. This isn’t the first time you’re going to be seen with Harry, but you know it’s going to be a big deal. Harry being at Niall’s show is huge. Everyone will be losing their minds seeing him there to support his previous band mate. There’s no doubt that people will be recording Harry, and therefore, recording you.

You take your time with your hair and makeup, making sure to look nice without going over the top. When you’re finished, you walk out to the living room where Harry is sitting on the couch and tying his shoes.

He looks up when he hears you walk in and stares for a moment.

“Do I look alright?” You ask.

“You look beautiful,” he replies, his voice soft.

“Thank you. You look good, I like this shirt. Is it new?”

“Nah, found it in the back of my closet.”

You sit next to him and he says, “Can I-? Is it still okay if I scent you?”

“Yea, please. I know I’ll feel more at ease if you do,” you explain.

“C’mere,” he says, and you move to straddle his waist. It’s not necessary to be in this position, but both of you like it. It helps you feel connected, and gives Harry access to the scent glands on either side of your neck.

He leans in, starting with a gentle kiss to your neck. Your eyes shut automatically as you focus on the feeling of Harry all around you. He runs his nose along both sides, then begins to kiss and nip at the glands. You’re doused in his scent, your own omega smell mostly hidden. While you’re proud of being an omega, sometimes it’s nice to not have to worry. With your scent covered by your alpha’s, you know that others won’t be able to find you by your smell.

Not like last time.

The car arrives, and you head out. Harry normally prefers to drive, but tonight required a bit more planning and security involvement, so Harry had chosen to be on the safe side. While you like when it’s just the two of you, it is nice to ride in the backseat with him, your hand intertwined with his on the seat between you.

After the drive you’re escorted into the building through a back entrance. You’re greeted by Arlo, a nice beta on Niall’s team.

“Ni’s just about done getting ready and would love to see you before the show,” Arlo says. He starts leading the two of you down a series of hallways, and you begin to grow anxious.

Even with his thorough scenting, Harry can pick up on the slight distressed pheromones you’re producing.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly.

“I think we’re about to go through where it happened,” you reply.

“Do you want to see if we can go another way?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Harry confirms and wraps a protective arm around your shoulders.

As you walk past the spot where that alpha had trapped you, you take a deep breath of Harry’s scent. You look at the wall you’d been held against, and remember how Harry had come to save the day. And from that moment on he had never left your side.

Any fear and anxiety you’d had is now gone, feelings of love and contentment replacing them. Harry senses the shift and smiles beside you, gently squeezing your arm.

After a few more turns, Arlo knocks on a door which opens a moment later. There’s an excited shout, and then Harry is engulfed in a hug.

“Harry!” Niall exclaims. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m thrilled to be here, Ni. Can’t wait to see you on stage!” Harry replies.

“This must be your lovely girlfriend,” Niall says, looking towards you.

Harry beams as he introduces you, saying, “This is my omega, Y/N.”

“Omega,” Niall says, his face beaming at the two of you. “I hadn’t realized you were an omega. I am so happy for the both of you!” Being one of Harry’s closest friends, Niall knew that Harry always hoped to find his omega. With most people being betas, it seemed unlikely that it would happen. But fate, and luck had been on your side, bringing you and Harry together.

The three of you sit and chat for a few minutes before another woman walks in. You see Niall’s face light up as she enters and you know right away this must be his girlfriend, Amelia.

After more introductions, you and Amelia talk a bit about what it’s like to be dating these big pop stars. You end up exchanging numbers, happy to have someone who understands the craziness of this specific lifestyle.

As it nears showtime, you and Harry say goodbye to Niall and Amelia and make your way to the suite you’ll be in. You point out Harry’s banner which is hanging across from your seat, and feel a swell of pride as you watch Harry look at it with a smile.

Del Water Gap opens the show, and while you don’t know all of his music, there are a few songs of his you know and love. You and Harry dance along to the music, enjoying this time to let loose.

When Niall comes on stage a bit later, the cheers are deafening, especially from Harry. It’s fun to watch him support his friend this way and you can see the connection the two of them have, as Niall glances up to your suite during Stockholm Syndrome.

You always thought that out of the five boys, Niall wrote the most romantic love songs, which is why you’re so excited when he starts singing Black and White. Harry sings along, leaning in close for the lyrics “I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” You look at him a second later, and you can see that those words are undeniably true.

At that moment, you know that he’s it for you. This is the man you want to bond, marry, and raise pups with. And you don’t want to wait any longer.

Towards the end of the show, you and Harry head backstage to watch the final songs with Amelia. You and Harry enjoy every minute of the concert, and dip the second it ends in order to beat the traffic.

You ride home with his arm around you and you talk about the show, and Harry reminisces about his time in the band. It’s always nice when he talks fondly about those memories. You feel honored to be able to hear about that time.

Back at home, you get ready for bed side by side, reveling in the domestic bliss. This only confirms what you were thinking earlier, that this is how you want to spend the rest of your life. Add in the sweet and gentle way he makes love to you before cuddling you to sleep, there’s no question.

You wake up the next morning, still wrapped in his arms and he presses a sleepy kiss to your head.

“Good morning, my love,” he says, his voice still gruff with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply.

The two of you lay together for a little while, just basking in each other's presence and running your hands along one another’s bodies. Your next words are ones you’ve been thinking, but you don’t mean to say them. At least, not by blurting them out.

And yet, suddenly you’re breaking the silence by saying, “I want to be bonded to you.”

His shocked silence only lasts a moment before his eyes light up with joy. “You do?” he asks excitedly.

“I do. I think I’ve known for a while now. But after last night I just couldn’t wait any longer. Harry, I want to be connected to you, in every way. I want to be your omega.”

“I’d love nothing more,” he says, and leans in for a kiss. You quickly deepen it, pulling him close. But he breaks off the kiss a moment later.

“Did you mean right now?” he asks.

“Yea, did you not? I just thought-” you cut yourself off, now feeling silly that you thought he’d want to bond immediately.

Seeing how you draw back, he realizes that you took that as a rejection. Wanting to quickly reassure you, he says, “I want to make it special.”

“Harry, all I need for it to be special is you.”

You feel him start to rumble and begin to purr in response.

“Still,” he says. “This is an important moment. Can I please do a little something to mark the occasion? I can have it all ready tonight, promise!”

And well, how could you say no to that?

“Sounds perfect,” you reply. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he says. His hands are still on you, and they run gently along your body. The two of you lay together for another few minutes, and then Harry says, “I’m gonna get ready. Busy day today.” He smirks, then gives you another kiss and climbs out of bed.

You watch as he gets dressed, taking in every glimpse of his bare skin, especially the parts reserved only for you. When he’s done, he sees your hungry expression and says, “C’mon, let’s go eat breakfast. You look ravenous.”

“Oh I am. Just not for food.”

“Trust me, I’m aware, you cheeky omega,” he says as he leans down to pick you up and toss you over his shoulder.

“Okay, manhandling me is not going to make me less in the mood, you know that right?” you say through giggles as he carries you from the bedroom to the kitchen. It’s a true statement, and Harry knows how much you get off any time he shows off his strength. Plus, as an omega, knowing your alpha is clearly strong enough to protect you and your future pups is a turn on.

He places you gently on the kitchen counter and begins rummaging around. He pulls out ingredients and you offer to help, but he turns you down. “Let me take care of you,” he says.

You eat breakfast together, Harry insisting on doing the dishes as well. Afterwards, he heads out, saying he has some things he needs to get at the store.

While he’s gone, you take a shower, fully cleaning and pampering yourself to get ready.

Tonight, you’re going to be bonded. You always thought this would be a scary thing, that this big event would fill you with nerves. But you’re not nervous. You’re only excited. That’s how you know this is the right move. The thought of not being bonded to Harry makes you anxious, and sad, so clearly, you’re meant to be together.

Harry gets back home, keeping all the items he purchased hidden, saying you’ll know later.

“So, Niall and Amelia will be taking you out for the afternoon,” Harry says.

“This all part of your plan?” you ask.

“Absolutely. Need to work in secret so you can come home and be amazed!”

“Alright, I will accept you kicking me out of the house, since you’re planning a surprise for me.”

“Thank you, my love,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” he adds.

You finish getting ready and soon enough, Niall and Amelia are there to pick you up.

The three of you start with lunch, Niall explaining that Harry had taken care of everything. Of course he has. You can tell your alpha is set on ensuring you have a perfect day while proving he’ll always provide for you.

After lunch you head to do some window shopping, spending time looking at plenty of items but not buying anything.

Not until you and Amelia head into a very upscale lingerie store. You’ve never really been into lingerie, but you’ve acquired a few pieces since you started dating Harry.

You’re looking at a sheer lace matching set, the color just right to make your eyes pop. Amelia notices the way you focus on it and says, “You should buy that. Your alpha won’t be able to resist you, might bond you the second he sees you in it.”

You blush, and Amelia says, “Wait, are you? Are the two of you ready to bond?”

“We are,” you reply quietly, but don’t reveal more details.

“That’s wonderful. You guys seem perfect for each other.”

It always makes you feel warm inside when other people say things like that to you and Harry. It confirms you’re not just in your own bubble, that you’re the only ones who think you’re good together. Not that other people’s opinions matter, but it just shows you that outsiders view the two of you as compatible.

You decide to buy the lingerie, and are grateful the purchase can be hidden in a small, discreet bag so you can sneak it in the house without Harry seeing.

Meeting back up with Niall who had been next door looking at watches, the three of you end the outing with some coffee. You’ve been successfully distracted for the past few hours, but as Niall drives you back home, you begin to grow restless.

“Anxious to get back to your alpha?” Niall teases.

“Something like that,” you reply.

“You know, I’ve known Harry for a long time. And it brings me so much joy to know that he’s found his perfect mate,” he says, completely serious now. “I am extremely happy for the two of you.”

“Well, thank you. And Harry and I are both happy for the two of you as well,” you say, causing both Niall and Amelia to smile and blush.

Finally, Niall is dropping you off back home, and you thank them for such a wonderful afternoon.

Harry sees you pull up, and waits on the front porch, smiling big enough for his dimples to make an appearance. Suddenly, you need to be in his arms, so you practically run up the path to meet him.

“Hi my love,” he greets you as he wraps you in a hug. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did. It was nice spending time with them,” you answer as Harry leads you inside.

“Are you ready for the surprise?” Harry says.

You’re anxious to see everything he’s set up, but there’s one thing you have to do first, so you reply, “Just need to use the bathroom and then I’m all yours.”

“All mine. I like the sound of that,” he says with a smirk.

“You would, you possessive alpha,” you joke. And it really is a joke, because while Harry is protective, he’s never been overly possessive like some alphas are. Just another reason why you love him.

You slip into the downstairs bathroom and do your business and refresh yourself. You also quickly manage to change your undergarments, putting on the new lingerie you’d purchased. It makes you feel attractive, sexy even, and gives you a boost of confidence for what’s to come.

Rejoining Harry in the entryway, he extends his arm, inviting you to loop yours through his like a true gentleman. He leads you to the dining room, and the sight takes your breath away. The lights are dim, candles and soft music creating a gentle and romantic ambiance. A beautiful bouquet of flowers acts as the centerpiece, and a delicious smelling meal is already plated and waiting.

“Harry, this is amazing!”

“You deserve all of this and more, sweetheart.”

He pulls out your chair and helps you settle before sitting across from you. The two of you enjoy a delicious meal while you tell him about your day with Amelia and Niall. But as you’re finishing dessert, you know it’s time to talk about what’s going to happen next.

“You’re definitely ready for this?” Harry asks.

“I am. I’m more than ready,” you reply, you’re voice strong and sure.

“And you’re ready for the shared heat and rut that will start once we bond?” he checks.

“Absolutely,” you answer. Not only are you ready, but you’re looking forward to it. Days of passionate lovemaking with your alpha? Yea, that’s not exactly a hardship.

“Good. I made some meals and stocked the room with everything we’ll need.”

“Thank you for taking care of everything.”

“I will always take care of you,” Harry states. And you know it’s true. He stands and cleans everything up, not accepting your offers to help. He then checks that the door is locked, that the alarm is on, and that the oven is off, before blowing out the candles.

Once you’re sure that everything is taken care of, you stand and walk to face Harry.

“Alpha?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Take me to bed.”

He doesn’t hesitate, quickly lifting you over his shoulder in a show of strength that has you producing slick faster than you thought possible. You’d be embarrassed, especially since there’s no hiding it, not with the position you’re in. But there’s no need to be self-conscious, not when Harry lets out a lust-filled growl at the scent.

The bedroom is also decorated, but neither of you are focusing on that right now. What catches your eye immediately is what is on the bed itself. The most gorgeous nest you’ve ever seen. Harry places you down gently in the center of it, and you pick up the way both of your scents are blended together.

“Harry, it’s beautiful,” you say, causing him to blush as he hovers over you.

“I’ve never really nested before. Wasn’t sure if you’d like it,” he replies bashfully.

“I love it, Alpha. It’s perfect.”

He leans in for a kiss, and while it starts tame, it quickly turns heated. Clothes are quickly removed, until Harry is completely bare and you’re left in just your bra and panties. That sight slows Harry down, and he takes his time admiring you.

“You are perfect.” He states as he presses a kiss to your tummy. “You are beautiful.” He says next, the kiss landing on your collarbone this time. He continues to shower you in kisses and compliments, driving you completely mad with desire.

Just when you think you’re going to burst, he finally removes those last articles and begins to touch you where you need it most. His mouth on your core is just what you want, and he doesn’t disappoint, eating you out until you’re writhing beneath him.

“Can’t wait any longer. Need you. Need to bond you,” he says as he lines up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. After confirming your consent, he slides inside with one intense thrust. He tries to go slow, but neither of you want that right now. He picks up the pace, going hard and fast, and both of you quickly near your peaks.

When you’re on the precipice of your orgasm, and you can feel Harry’s knot start to grow, you tilt your head to the side, giving Harry the perfect view of your bonding spot.

“You’re sure?” he manages to grunt out, and you confirm one more time.

He leans down, thoroughly scenting you, licking and nipping at your neck to prepare you. And then, finally, just as you tip over into bliss and his knot locks inside, he sinks his teeth into your neck. There’s a tiny prick of pain, and then, the feeling of pure euphoria. Harry licks over the bite to seal it, and you sink into this pleasant, floaty feeling that comes with the post-orgasm glow.

Once Harry is happy with the bite, he pulls back so he can look at you.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“I’m amazing. That was amazing. I’ve never felt better,” you reply.

He leans in for a sweet kiss, and you makeout lazily until Harry’s knot goes down. For the next half hour, you cuddle together in the nest, feeling more connected than ever before. When it starts to feel too warm, you know your heat is beginning. The way Harry’s hands travel more insistently along your skin lets you know he’s sinking into rut as well.

When the need to be filled starts to overwhelm you, Harry says, “Let me take care of you.”

And he does. For the next four days, even though he’s fully in rut, he still ensures you have everything that you need. When you both come up, he changes the sheets, runs you a bath, and absolutely pampers you.

You think back to before you met Harry, how you suffered from touch deprivation, and the thought of one day having an alpha was a far fetched fantasy. You could never have predicted that this would be the outcome. But you are so happy it is.

You make a new nest, and you and Harry lay together, resting after days of vigorous activities.

And while you’re content with your life exactly how it is, when Harry runs his hand along your stomach, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like if your family of two were to grow.

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AN: Thank you for reading! If you have any requests for this story please let me know!

Little cliffhanger at the end, maybe I'll come back and write a story about them raising some pups together??

#harry styles x you #alpha harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #one direction x reader

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