#that's why he's fucking you later that day too and now he has a pretense to see you

[shotmrmiller]

soap doing the let's make one of the 141 guys jealous because i'm close to you and they're not but he doesn't pull away talking about thank me later. he takes it as far as you're willing to let him go and if he fucks, he fucks 🤷🏻‍♀️

definitely bragging about it later. tasted like honey, bonnie did. can still smell 'er on my fingers. nabbed 'er knickers too, wanna see? (he ain't showing shit because he worked hard for that slip of string you call undergarments)

calls you his ball and chain once and he's showing up to your room with a busted lip and black eye

[captain-hawks]

tetsurou kuroo x f!reader

say it

summary: If you don't call him Tetsurou while you're having sex, you can still pretend this thing between you and Kuroo is casual, right? (Wrong.)

word count: 1.3k

content: Nekoma University!Kuroo, NSFW, 18+, smut, friends with benefits to lovers speed run, name kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, oral sex, this was going to be PWP but the feels said no

Be it on the court or off, there’s something to be said about Tetsurou Kuroo’s timing.

It’s how you found yourself so enamored by him in the first place, after all. Months ago, when your friends drug you along to your university's enormous gymnasium to watch the men’s volleyball team play a practice match with a local rival between classes, you didn’t think you knew enough about the sport to drum up much interest from your unassuming place in the back of the stands—until your eyes landed on a tall, loud player with the number ‘1’ adorned across his red jersey.

But it wasn’t just his height or the way he ceaselessly commanded Nekoma’s side of the court that kept your rapt attention, it was the way he moved. 

Tetsurou Kuroo—a name you caught your friends whispering after he scored a point that had the gathered crowd roaring in excitement—had a mesmerizing knack for timing his movements to make the most of each and every square inch of the court. 

And you?

You may have known shit all about volleyball, but fuck if just watching him didn’t set your heart racing. 

Sometimes you can’t help but laugh at the irony—the way Kuroo collided with you in a busy hallway days later, setting off a dangerously flirtatious chain of events that would eventually find the two of you tangled in his sheets, naked and sated and gasping for air. 

It was casual then; you went into this arrangement under no false pretenses. 

And...it’s still casual now, despite the fact that you know beyond a shadow of doubt that neither of you is fucking anyone else.

Despite the fact that you wake up in Kuroo’s bed more often than your own, to the point where rolling over in the morning to inhale the scent of your own laundry detergent on the pillowcase beside you feels almost wrong now.

Despite the fact that at one point or another, he suddenly made a habit of calling you after every one his away matches—just to talk, just to say goodnight. 

Despite the fact that, somewhere along the way, he started kissing you more softly. There are still hurried, frantic kisses, ones full of hunger and lust that leave your lips swollen and your thighs clenching with need, your entire body arching into his touch like a moth to a flame. But now, there are kisses without an agenda. Kisses with no beginning, middle, nor end. 

Just Kuroo’s mouth slotted against yours, a callused thumb brushing gently along the curve of your jaw.

But it’s casual, even if there’s a dull, quiet ache in your chest that protests otherwise each time his hands settle on your waist. 

And the completely, utterly, inarguably casual nature of your relationship is why you find yourself choking down the words you really want to say as Kuroo’s fingers curl inside of you right now, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you swallow down something that’s far too intimate for what this really is.

Tetsurou.

Tetsurou.

Tetsurou.

His given name is always caught in your throat at times like this, yearning to climb up your tongue and burst out through your teeth. 

Your name leaves his lips effortlessly, like it’s as easy as breathing. Like he hardly has to think twice. And the way his deep voice traverses each letter now, his lips slick with your arousal as he firmly slides his tongue over your clit? It drags down your spine with a white-hot, iron grip. 

It’s casual.

It’s fucking casual.

Your limbs are still trembling from the force of your first orgasm when he begins to ease his length into your entrance, your wet cunt welcoming the thick, familiar stretch of his cock. 

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that the exclusivity of your casual arrangement somehow led to this—no condom separating your tight, drenched walls from the leaking, pulsing need of his shaft.)

(And yet you still can’t fucking say it when you're like this with him, naked and vulnerable and wanting.)

(Tetsurou.)

(Tetsurou.)

Deep down, you know it’s because you’re scared.

You’re scared because he hasn’t mentioned the way you dance around it during sex. You’ve convinced yourself that despite how absolutely not casual this whole goddamn situation has become, the intimacy of using his name now is what will break the fragile glass of this façade you’ve both built. He’ll realize you’ve both grown too comfortable, too attached, roots burrowed and trapped beneath concrete. 

He’ll pluck you from his life like a hapless dandelion that’s sprouted between the unforgiving cracks in the sidewalk.

So even though his name is like a mantra in your mind as he cradles the side of your face, his hazel eyes trained on yours, black hair sticking up in every direction from the way you’d carded your fingers through it while his tongue was buried inside of you, you don’t say it.

“Kuroo,” you exhale as he drags his teeth down the side of your neck, mouthing at your collarbone while he rocks his hips into yours.

“Kuroo,” you gasp, while he rolls your pebbled nipples between his fingers and drives his cock into you so deeply you see stars.

“Kuroo,” you whimper, when his forehead falls against yours as his thrusts begin to grow sloppy.

And ever a man known for his timing, it’s then that Kuroo says it, with your sweat-slicked body writhing beneath his, voices hoarse and raw, your fingers digging into his back. 

“Tetsurou,” he breathes out, chest heaving against your own.

It catches you so off guard that all you can do is stare up at him in confusion, lips parted as his eyes search yours.

“Say it,” he implores, voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Please, say it.”

Warmth unravels in your chest like a sail catching in the wind, the insistence of your rapidly beating heart rattling against your ribcage. Kuroo’s nose brushes against your cheek before his mouth ghosts over your own, the beat of silence that stretches between you a yawning precipice.

“Tetsurou,” you finally whisper, a hot, wet tear sliding down your cheek. 

The mattress groans in protest as the world beneath you shifts, Kuroo swiftly tugging you upward into his lap. His lips chase the wet trail to the edge of your jaw while your legs curl around his waist, a jolt of pleasure searing through you as his cock slips even deeper inside of you.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, wrapping one strong arm around your body while the other cradles the back of your head. And with his chest pressed to yours, you can feel it—the way his own shuddering heart responds in kind. 

“Tetsurou.”

His breathing becomes ragged as he begins to fuck you with fervor, each pounding thrust upward punctuated by the sound of you crying out his name.

“Tetsurou.”

“Tetsurou.”

“TETSUROU!”

Your vision goes white as his dexterous fingers find their way back to your throbbing clit, massaging the pulsing, aching bundle of nerves while he swallows down your unabashed, sobbing moans, uncertain if you’re still screaming his name or just making unintelligible noises at this point. A heady, dizzying wave of pleasure pulls you under just as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt, the choking squeeze of your fluttering walls milking ropes of thick, hot cum from his cock and filling you to the brim.

He holds you tight as your breathing evens out and your shuddering limbs still, softening cock nestled snugly in the heat between your thighs, cum beginning to seep out and onto the sheets below. A hand caresses the side of your neck, fingertips grazing your ear as you lift your head from where it’s buried against the crook of his shoulder to find him looking at you with so much unabashed affection, your chest aches.

And your lips have only begun to form the shape of Tetsurou’s name once more when his mouth crashes back into yours.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[tasteracha]

a/n: this was 100% inspired by the news of hyune being made a global ambassador of versace (i'm so proud of him i'll cry). also this wasn't proofread in any way. oops.

you were in the middle of trying to make it look like you weren’t waiting at the door like an excited puppy when hyunjin came home, the lock to the front door rattling a bit as he unlocked it. he hasn’t been home this early in weeks, too busy with schedules and practices and meetings. you’re always immensely proud of him, happy to sit at home while he lives out his dreams but the pang of missing him has hurt a little more than usual lately.

all pretenses of trying to act cool flew out the window when you saw him though - he’s always beautiful, but something about the flowing silks and elegant patterns of his new versace clothes makes him look other-worldly. versace, the brand he was now a global ambassador of. 

you didn’t know he was coming home all done up like this. even the shoes he kicks off are absurdly nice, smooth leathers complimented by lines of gold metal. your own body is clothed in your sleep shorts and an old worn out t-shirt, but the look of awe he gives you rivals the one on your face as he takes you in, the first thing he lays eyes on after a tiring day. 

“hi, gorgeous,” he says, sweeping you into a hug and pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. 

“shouldn’t i be the one calling you that?” you say, pulling back a bit to look him up and down. “you look amazing, mr. fancy brand ambassador.”

���it doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re always perfect,” he says sweetly, a fond smile on his face. he’s so sweet. but with the way he looks right now, like a greek god walking straight out of a myth, you suddenly don’t want sweet.

his eyes widen a bit when yours narrow in on him for a second, calculating. all your plans of cuddling him while you watch a movie and share a bottle of wine fly out the window as you pull him straight to the bedroom, not asking if he’d eaten or needed water or rest - that can happen later. once you’ve gotten what you wanted from him.

“i have to be careful with this, hmm?” you don’t waste any time as you slowly unbutton his silk shirt, the fabric rippling like water under your hands. “this probably is worth more than i am.”

“no,” he gasps when you get it open and run your hands up and down his chest, stopping at his nipples. you’ve caught him off guard. good. “yes. i don’t know?”

“awh, does my pretty boy feel shy because he’s all dolled up?” you tease as you slide the fabric off of his shoulders and neatly place it on the dresser. you know your words will push the wrong buttons. or the right ones, depending on his mood. for all of his shyness, he doesn’t usually like being teased in the bedroom. he likes it slow and sweet, sometimes hard and rough, but for the latter he needs to be pushed there. 

“watch it,” he says, voice sharp in a way that slices right through you, just as you expected. you shiver when he pulls you close, his hand a harsh grip on your waist. you can smell his perfume from this close, the flowery scent mixing with his own natural one creating a melody of intoxicating aromas. his eyes are still soft though, he rarely ever looks at you with anything but pillowy fondness.

but the way he rips your shirt off when you just smirk at him in response is a sharp contrast to how you discarded him of his. it’s quick and rough, and you’re surprised that it didn’t rip before he threw it onto the floor behind you. 

“you’re buying me a new shirt if you’re going to treat it like that,” your voice trembles when he cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing just so. for all your words, you know he’s winning this round. it’s a game of chess that you had prepared to lose.

“i’ll buy you a hundred shirts if you shut up and let me fuck you,” he almost growls, the frustration building up. fuck. 

“i don’t know,” you pretend to think, placing your chin in your hand and rolling your eyes upwards in an exaggerated display. “why should i?”

before you can blink, he’s sliding your shorts and underwear down and pushing you backwards, and you feel the swoop of the fall in your stomach as your back hits your mattress. you let out a breathless laugh when he almost trips trying to get his own pants and boxers off, hopping on one foot when the other gets tangled up. 

“do you need help?” you ask, voice sugar sweet and gaze locked onto him through your lashes. the final puzzle piece you needed, you realize, as his eyes ice over and the beautiful features on his face sharpen. he rids himself of the last of his clothes in one smooth movement, striding over to kneel on top of you on the bed.

“what’s gotten into you today, hmm?” he purrs, the hand that isn’t holding himself up over you is rubbing slow, hard circles into your inner thigh. you don’t answer, but the fight leaves you as you melt under him and your eyes flutter closed, content. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your jaw, then behind your ear, and finally to your mouth. “are you that desperate to get fucked?”

he pushes two fingers into you at once, making you keen and your eyes fly open as he starts pumping them in and out of you. he crooks his fingers just right every time, and you’re already seeing black spots in your vision as the pressure in your lower belly pools up.

“hyune-”, you gasp out, hands fluttering on his back. “what, ah-”

“you want me in control, right? i’m going to make you come on my fingers,” he pants out, his hand not slowing from its brutal pace. “and them i’m going to make you come on my cock. and you’re going to lay there and take it.”

the thought makes you groan and move your hips up to meet him, and when you look up at him hovering over you he looks like an angel. his hair is still done up, red-tinted lips parted and sparkly brown dusted eyes focused on how his fingers look inside of you. he moans when you clench hard around his fingers, like he’s feeling your pleasure too, and it sends you over the edge. you pull him down to meet you, parted pairs of lips meeting in a messy kiss as you all but sob into his mouth. 

he doesn’t give you any time to recover as he pulls his slick-soaked fingers out of you, using it to pump his hard cock a few times before sliding it into you, propping himself onto his elbow so his entire body is covering yours. his mouth is still on yours, sucking and biting at your bottom lip, and even with that as a distraction you can feel every inch of him entering you. you can’t help the way your walls tighten around him when he starts moving and you break his kiss to throw your head back, an embarrassingly load moan leaving your mouth.

his lips move to your neck, latching on like his mouth can’t stay away from you. you can feel his breath panting out onto your skin, aligning with your own ragged breaths. you hook a leg around his waist, your hands scratching gently across the smooth planes of his back. 

he comes before you do, pumping you full as he bites down on your neck, and he keeps fucking you until you follow him into the high. your legs shake and he whimpers, holding you close and burying his face into your neck as you both gain control of your breathing. 

he rolls off of you once he can take breath that isn’t ragged and you lay your head on his chest, not minding the sweat. the both of you are serene, basking in the glow when you remember to ask - 

“…do you think i get free clothes out of this too?”

[celestiall0tus]

I'm going to make this quick

So, I've finally caught up to Representation for Miraculous. I have some thoughts, but nothing like I did with Migration. That one hit a special nerve. Beware for any spoilers for Miraculous S5

Intuition:

Gabriel is ballsy. I do commend him for his risk and seeing the failures, but holy fuck. The whole thing with his afib and the heart beating made me squirm, but only because I suffer from heart problems myself, so it made me uneasy hearing that.

Pretension:

Ok. Feligami is cute.

Revelation:

Boring until Hoaxer, then it got interesting.

Confrontation:

Kudos to Sabrina for taking a stand. Also, short hair Lila is choice. Granted I love short hair on women.

Also, am I missing something, or did Juleka not have a speech problem back in season 1? It could just be me, but I thought she spoke fine at least until the later seasons when she started mumbling everything. Did I miss something?

Collusion:

Leave the fucking pregnant woman alone!! FFS!! I fucking get that Chloe is a brat and is gonna be that way, but Gabriel, leave the pregnant woman alone! Fuck! I nearly fucking cried when she got akumatized after dealing with all that stress of the day. FFS!

Now for the one (I assume) people are really interested in. Revolution:

I fucking laughed. So, yes, I acknowledge that in a fantasy, fictional world that kind of shit can happen. But in the real world and real world logic, there's no fucking way any of that would have happened. It's just like my nitpick with Jagged "just ripping up his contract." In the sense of our world, it wouldn't work. So, I don't know how to take this episode. I didn't hate it, but it did make me laugh with how nonsensical it was. So, it could have been worse.

Overall I didn't hate Chloe. She fulfilled her role well enough. I am more annoyed with Andre though. Kudos for wanting to fix your mistakes, but maybe grow a backbone and punish your daughter? No? Send her off with Audrey? Cool. Whatever.

Another thing I have is the fucking deus ex machina moment for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Fuck that shit. It's painfully obvious and while good deus ex machina moments exist, that wasn't one of them. I would have preferred there was more build up because, to me, they aren't grown up. They are still kids physically and mentally. Emotionally too. Fuck it, all around.

Now for spoiler territory. Representation:

I don't know. It could have been worse?

So, the story of the Agrestes and Graham de Vanillies was interesting, but a part of me wishes we learned in a different way. Or at the very least, not have Felix and Kagami act it out. I wanted to laugh so hard at it because it came off as so silly. Though I do like the idea that Adrien and Felix were literally miracle children. That I do love.

Also, this will be triggering to some and cause some hate, but I need to get this off my chest.

Felix, honey, I acknowledge that being called a monster all your life by someone who was supposed to "love" you is extremely damaging, but I don't think that necessarily make Colt a thousand times worse than Tomoe or any other abusive parents. I know pain is relative and it falls to the perspective of the individual, but I was expecting a lot worse. Again, it could just be me, but I expected so much worse from Colt than just controlling his son and calling him a monster. As far as I see it, Colt just falls in line with all the other shitty parents. Nothing special.

Last thing that confuses me is Chat/Adrien's nightmare. I get it's meant to be a reference to Chat Blanc and the danger he possesses, but why? As far as we know, Adrien would have absolutely no idea about those events, only Marinette. So, why that? I was honestly expecting something to do with him as Adrien, not Chat. But I guess we need to fabricate a reason for Adrien not to tell Marinette the truth and give him trauma. Right? Right?

And wouldn't he still remember it anyway despite the miracle being performed? It's a nightmare after all. That shit haunts you. And the way Gabriel made it sound was that it just bought their worst fears to the conscious rather than dwelling in the subconscious, y'know, as nightmares do. Also, no one tell Juleka, but if I'm reading her nightmare right, Jagged doesn't really love her. I don't care about the birthday episode since all we see is Jagged giving attention to Luka, not Juleka too. But that's just my hot take.

Last thing for Representation I want to call out. Marcaniel canon finally?! Yes please. You cannot convince me otherwise after seeing them away from the crowd, alone, holding hands, and about to do what we all know was gonna happen. First JuleRose, now Marcaniel. Best part of the episode.

This has been a L0tus rant. Have a lovely day.

[shewhowas39]

eh fuck it have a chapter 9 sneak peek

i was gonna wait to post sneak peeks until tomorrow but damn it i'm excited or this chapter. so here, have a preview of chapter 9 of Juniper & Starlight. you'll see why i'm so eager for this one.

cw: references to gore and general dark urge badness

***

Scratch follows her, laying down beside her bedroll like she is the one who will need protecting.  June reaches out and pets him again.

“You bark if I get up, all right? You let ‘em know. And let ‘em do whatever they gotta to stop me,” she whispers to the dog. She knows it’s a pointless request. She’s not capable of speaking to animals. But the way he wags his tail in response is some small comfort. “Good boy.” 

She turns and looks toward the mouth of the cave. Astarion is there, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, stopping occasionally to stare out into the storm. Like he’s waiting for something. 

He has been agitated all day. More snappish and irritable than usual. Even Lae’zel had pointed it out over supper, when Astarion had stalked off in a huff after complaining about the rain. He hadn’t eaten any of the soup Gale had made.

Though, now that she thinks of it, June can’t recall ever seeing Astarion eat with the group. He nearly always waved a hand, saying he’d eat later or insulting Gale’s culinary ability as an excuse to turn down a meal. Perhaps that’s why he’s so agitated now. Maybe he’s hungry. Too used to the fine cuisine of a Baldurian magistrate to stoop to the lowly camp food being offered. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

But still, she can’t help watching him for a while, taking in the tension in his shoulders and the hard set of his jaw. Perhaps he’s feeling trapped by the storm and the cave and longs to take a walk the way she had needed to last night. 

The memory of last night turns her veins to ice. She looks over at the cloak again, folded by her bedroll, and swallows the bubbling guilt and terror down.

Her headache is getting worse.

June lays down on the bedroll, turning away from Astarion and the others to face the cave wall. She doesn’t want to sleep, but exhaustion is dragging her down, down, down into the depths of treacherous dreams.

Pools of blood. Shredded flesh. Anguished screams and pleas for mercy. And a feeling of pleasant contentment. Of being at home.

She wakes to the sound of Scratch’s low growl and sits up with a start.

“Shit.” 

Astarion, who is crouched over her, scrambles backwards with the panic of a criminal caught red handed. Scratch continues to growl as June scoots away from the pale elf, the fog of sleep leaving her confused and fearful. What was he doing, hovering over her while she slept?

“No, no! It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” he insists, and she can hear the panic in his voice. There’s no pretense, no liar’s smile. His mask is down, and he’s terrified. “I…I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just needed - well, blood.” 

It’s only then that June sees him for what he is. The pale skin and scarlet eyes aren’t just striking - they are markers of his true nature. And the glint of fangs when he speaks confirms it. She’s surprised she couldn’t see it before.

“It's you,” she murmurs. "You're the vampire."

***

this chapter is gonna mark a big turning point for June & Astarion. still a slow burn romance but the burning can officially commence!

the plan is to post on Thursday!

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” 

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[actualbird]

the nxx boys as songs that i think encapsulate how they first felt once they realized theyve fallen in love

(+ some explanation from my end cuz i got REALLY EMOTIONAL, OKAY!!!!)

-

artem wing: So It Goes by Marianas Trench

I spoke to you in cautious tones You answered me with no pretense And still I feel I said too much My silence is my self defense And this is why my eyes are closed It's just as well for all I've seen And so it goes and so it goes And you're the only one who knows

(aka: hesitation is what riddles him in the beginning. artem goes about it in stops and starts, sudden halts, stilted words because hes always needed to do everything right. he needs to be careful, and he is, and when he's met with gentleness, he doesnt know what to do. in spite of it all, the trust hes got is solid. it's just for who hes in love with, not for himself. one day, artem will get there. until then, he leaves his heart in their care.)

-

marius von hagen: What I'm Trying To Say by Stars

You look so good in the clothes of a poser And when you smiled all the kids fell apart here I know a place where it's warm and it's dry, dear Let me take you there North of the river all the streets are the same We can pretend that they don't know our name And the heat is turned all the way to full So don't pretend that you don't feel the pull I am trying to say What I want to say Without having to say, "I love you"

(aka: well fuck, this is scary, isnt it? but it's clear as day to him and hes ready to pull whoever it is along with him. but "head on" isnt how he begins because thats a lot. and marius has always been one to put on certain masks. he doesnt lie, he goes for the half-truths or jokes or over-exaggerated teasing or saying it's nothing, just anything but actually saying it. he'll grow the courage slowly but for now, he communicates everything without having to say...)

-

vyn richter: Close to Home by Vienna Teng

Claim the truth that gets lost In the miles of memory and open folds So change these rules and let’s cross All the sacred boundaries we’ve overgrown Build a brave new foundry close to home Here’s unbroken bone It’s a psalm from the book of lies Language you don’t recognize as part of your own This is the taste you were forever chasing There is no way to contain it when it comes to set You off Accept the shame on some shaky basis Admit that you were mistaken about it after all But oh the ache, the fantasy forsaken The alien and adjacent you would give anything to Take off This is the claim that you’ll keep on making This is the point of the breaking Here it comes to set you off

(aka: vyn both knows what this is and doesnt. he just wasnt expecting himself to experience it, the whole "love at first sight" thing. it's strange, it's alien, he doesnt recognize it, and it pushes him to realize that maybe he was wrong about how he viewed love prior to this. but as off-kilter as he feels, he yearns as well and wants to get acquainted with the feeling. wants build a home in this new place he once thought was a lie)

-

luke pearce: Your Universe by Rico Blanco

Tell me something When I'm 'bout to lose control How do you patiently hold my hand And gently calm me down? Tell me something When you sing and when you laugh Why do I always photograph My heart flying way above the clouds? I don't think that you even realize The joy you make me feel when I'm inside Your universe You hold me like I'm the one who's precious I hate to break it to you but it's just The other way around You can thank your stars all you want but I'll always be the lucky one

(aka: hes always had this gratefulness inside his heart. but he only realizes the added layer later because if you asked luke to pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love, he wouldnt be able to answer. his love built with every small moment, beautiful mundanities stacked up brick by brick, day by day, and his realization of what it isn't shocking to him. it's like a fact of life: the sky is blue, the sun rises every day, and he's in love straight down to his soul. and what colors every moment that led up to him knowing for sure is this: thank you, thank you, thank you)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if paranoid Bella told Carlisle what's going on and enlisted his help? Like if she overheard/learned something that made her think he might help, or if this is the Bella who's stuck in a time loop and figures it's worth a shot and at worse she'd be yeeted right back to the beginning of the loop if the vampire doctor is in cahoots with his scary son?

Anon is referring to Paranoid Bella. Now, Paranoid Bella has tried something like this once before, sort of, Billy called Carlisle on her behalf. It went places so awful I refuse to put them down in words.

Here the question is what if Bella asked Carlisle herself.

Why Paranoid Bella Would Never Do This

She can't trust any of the Cullens, for all she knows, they're in league with Edward. Bella's wearing her tin foil hat and that tin foil hat has kept her alive, dammit. For all she knows, this Dracula's Bride thing is just what vampires do and she's the latest victim.

She would never, ever, trust any of the Cullens. Ever.

Dr. Cullen seems nice as he stitches her up? IT'S A TRAP!

As For Time Loop Bella...

Anon's referring to this post, which... You really want this AU, don't you? I think that's conflating things a little too much here, and gives us way too different of a set up.

That Bella would probably try anything and everything, but she's also reached a point of nihilism where she just doesn't care anymore and might just do it to fuck with these people.

Even if she tells Carlisle, she probably keeps looping, and is well aware of this. Life is misery, pain, and endless.

Kind of misses the spirit of your post (which I assume is to get Paranoid Bella out of the miserable hole she's stuck in).

Bella Takes a Leap of Faith

But alright, Carlisle Cullen seems unusually cool and rational as he stitches her up. Maybe it's the pain talking, or Bella's own increasing desperation with her latest brush with morality, but she realizes just as Edward does that this is untenable.

If Bella keeps hanging around these people, as Edward insists she does (Edward having insisted on this goddamn birthday party at his house), then she will die sooner or later. Either Edward or his family will eat her.

This cannot go on and, as of that moment, Bella doesn't know that Edward is going to attempt to leave her within a few days.

This is the first time she's alone with Carlisle, the head of the coven, and probably the only time she ever will be. This is the only chance she'll ever have to ask for help from someone who can actually do something about it.

Bella interrupts Carlisle's "Edward's just weirdly religious" explanation and tells him that Edward's a lunatic. She needs help.

Carlisle has a, "Wait, what?" moment. He knew she was jumpy, very nervous, but she'd seemed very happy with Edward. Also, from his perspective, Edward is a very noble spirit if very young. Edward went on the human diet and came back, presumably understanding the inherent worth of human life. Edward voted not to murder Bella after the truck.

Yes things have been... weird, and Carlisle was concerned, still is about some parts, but it seemed to be going so well.

It's not.

He sits there in numb horror as Bella tells him all about the times Edward snuck through her window (greasing it to make it silent), to stare at her while she sleeps, the time he threatened to kill himself upon her inevitable death, how he has admitted to following her everywhere and spying on her through the thoughts of those around her, and all about that time he contemplated the murder of his entire Biology class to eat Bella: his personal brand of heroin.

Carlisle's listening to someone talk about a completely different person.

But Bella's insistent, Edward Cullen is Ted Bundy in the making, and Bella now has no other recourse but to turn to Carlisle. HELP. ME.

Well, they don't have much time left.

Edward will be back any moment and Carlisle... there must be some misunderstanding, right? Except, with some of these details, there's no misunderstanding this. If Edward actually said and did all of this: then this is horrible.

Regardless, it's very clear that Bella wants nothing to do with the Cullens and especially with Edward. That makes things very clear: Carlisle has to talk to Edward on Bella's behalf and get him to back the fuck off.

Though Carlisle does warn Bella that, as she knows the secret, she and the coven are technically breaking the law. If she's found out, Bella will either be murdered or turned. It's not necessarily likely anyone will find out but... It's not exactly a great position for the coven to be in, or Bella for that matter.

This is news to Bella.

Bella says she'll think about this vampire business (she's not thrilled) and really doesn't want to join the Cullens, and Carlisle will talk to Edward.

The talk doesn't go well.

Edward denies, denies, denies, and... admits some of it might be true were you to look at it from a the naive angle of a pure young woman who knows nothing of the world. Edward wasn't sneaking into Bella's room to rape/eat her, no, he was protecting her! From spiders! And that time he forced her to ride home with him, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to drive after fainting! And that time he almost murdered all of Biology... That was out of context, Carlisle.

Carlisle grows increasingly horrified as Edward's every answer confirms that he is, in fact, horrifying. This is someone who cares nothing about human life, not truly, and is a predator.

Carlisle immediately tells Edward it's over. Consider this a restraining order from Bella, he is never to speak to her, never to be near her, never to see her ever again.

Edward implodes.

Carlisle now hates him, this is terrible, Bella his true love doesn't love him at all and poisoned Carlisle against him, and she's ruined everything!

Spiraling further into madness, as one does, Edward concludes that Bella was a vile villainess: that this was her plan the entire time. She faked her love for him, faked being this utterly wonderful and perfect being, so that she could destroy his family as well as Edward himself? Why? Because she's the type who wants to see the world burn.

Edward's love turns to utter hatred, he's back in Biology again where this little girl dares to disrupt his life, only it's 1000 times worse. Bella Swan is the greatest evil that has ever walked this Earth.

And now he's a man with nothing to lose.

Carlisle's love for him? Already gone. Carlisle's faith in Edward's humanity? Gone. Why should Edward hold back anymore? Why shouldn't he have what he wants?

Within a few days, by the time Edward was originally going to leave, he sneaks into Bella's house and murders her in her bedroom. He then likely desecrates her corpse so she's unrecognizable, to make her as ugly in death as she should have been in life.

Edward then flees, leaving the coven for good, and returns to his diet of people. Not murderers and rapists anymore though, that pretense is done, because he's fully embraced being a monster.

I imagine out of pettiness he kills women who look like Bella.

Conclusion

Congratulations, anon, you have lost the Twilight Yandere Simulator.

[chil2de]

bestie, you gotta give us some kinky gojo sooner or later😤

i actually haven’t written gojo for months but— bestie i hope this was kinky enough for you😳😳 i can always take it up a notch [wink wink]

readmy disclaimerrr <3 thanks enjoy

also: i vibe with second year gojo more than i do present gojo but, that would make him 16-17 so lets bump him to a third year, thanks!

w.c: 1.5k / characters: 8.5k (incl spaces)

-

icy cold and curious fingertips easily curl around your waist, padded digits carefully kneading the delicate skin underneath your uniform. your head snaps to face gojo, who only passively stares past you and outside the window at the cityscape whizzing by.

“satoru—“ you grit through your teeth, swatting his prying fingers away from you. he hisses a meek sigh of hurt, cooing at you through his plush lips.

he leans down to whisper in your ear. pretension drips in his tone and you can feel the heavy weight of his grin flash against you.

“come on now, baby girl. don’t tell me you were all talk earlier.” he hums, tone low and rich. it sends acid bubbling in your stomach, throat clogging and ears ringing.

“we’re on a train, you fool. can’t you wait until we get home?” you snap at him, turning to face the doors of the train. you wiggle out of his inviting and enticing touch, opting to wrap your hand around a nearby handle for some support.

his large and calloused hand wraps around yours. he’s adamant about this.

gojo’s toned chest collides against your spine. you can feel the brush of his dick print heavy on his jet black uniform. he rests his jaw on your shoulder, tinted shades sliding down to the bridge of his nose. you meet his azure stare in the reflection of the door and he gives you a small smirk, free hand traversing underneath your arm to give your breast a small squeeze.

“so what if there’s people on this train? no one’s in this cart right now.”

it would be a miscalculation to say that it took you less than a second to melt into gojo’s coaxing words. you may always try to believe that you’re the more mature partner in your relationship, but you’re equally as terrible as he is.

“you’re awful.” you snort at him, reaching out behind you to run your fingertips through his soft titanium white locks. his hair has the fresh scent of coconuts laced through it.

“but you still love me.” he hums, trailing the tip of his tongue against your neck. you can’t help but jitter a little at the temperature difference and the cold air that clashes against the wet patches afterwards.

his teeth nibble against the skin there, lightly pulling and tugging. as much as he wants to leave bite marks, he’s not about to deal with infections. he decides to settle for second best and instead works to suck and pull onto your neck. you can feel the slight crackle and static where the small nerves underneath your skin burst.

“don’t look away.” he murmurs, commanding you to keep watching him in the reflection.

gojo’s saliva dribbles down your neck, sliding trails down into your shirt that lies underneath your jacket. your thighs squeeze and rub together as you emit small whimpers. it’s music to gojo’s ears, the way you’re writhing underneath him and pressing up against his cock. it almost makes him want to allow you the thing that you crave so dearly.

“satoru-“ you exhale breathlessly, resolve faltering already.

“swear you were against the idea of us fucking on a train minutes ago?” he drawls, finishing up his masterpiece on your neck.

“s-shut up” you grunt, breaking off the eye contact. you can't stand to see how his eyebrow perks up in mockery, the way he peeks at you through his thick lashes.

gojo grabs fistfuls of your hair, yanking you back with such force that it leaves your eyes glassy.

“you want me to stop?”

you swallow thickly, shaking your head.

“that’s my good girl. open your legs for me, yeah?”

when gojo spins you around before crouching down himself, you’re left with shock and awe painting your features. your lips hang in a wide ‘o’ as you gawk down at him.

“no.” you guffaw.

right here, right now?

he’s still going to tease you, even on a train?

his hands pry your legs open, pretty pale face staring up at you. but holy shit, if he doesn’t look so good like that. for once, you understand why he gets off so much whenever you stare up at him during blowjobs.

he bundles your skirt up, hitching the fabric up before letting out a low wolf whistle. he scoffs, lips tugging into a grin and he glances at you with amusement.

“you’re so fuckin’ cheeky. how long were you prancing around like that?”

he eyes the glistening juices that slick against your cunt, how the viscous liquid paints the inner portion of your thigh. it shimmers in the fluorescent light, clashing against the soft pink tones of your pussy.

“all day, actually.”

at this newfound information, gojo lifts an eyebrow up in concern. his long middle finger prods against the entrance of your cunnie. he presses into it, applying pressure, but never really enough to fully finger you.

“so needy. waiting for my cock all day?”

gojo suddenly dips not one, but two of his fingers deep inside you. you swallow him up instantly, sucking him in and taking his digits down to the knuckle. he’s fucked your pretty little pussy too many times to count, curled his soft fingers and massaged your walls for months. he has no difficulty in claiming your sweet spot, kneading into the spongy crevice there.

he cranes his neck up a little, running his tongue down flat against the length of your cunt. he twirls the muscle around your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud whilst his fingers procure obscure squelching sounds.

you whine a pathetic plea, yanking some of his strands and thus pulling his face forward for more friction. he slips his fingers out, opting to slurp against the entrance of your pussy.

“tastes good, baby.” he hums, seas of deep blue staring up at you. it makes you hiss and jolt, eyebrows furrowing and face contorting.

“satoru- please—“

“hmmm? what is it, princess?”

you can barely afford to mince a sentence together. the way he’s crouched underneath you and feasting on your pussy like it’s the last supper he’ll have leaves you breathless and dizzy.

“your dick-“

“mine? what about it?”

you groan out a fit of frustration, knuckles turn white in his hair. there’s a pout that adorns him as he flinches.

“i want it, you fucking idiot”

“oh? you want my dick? that’s cute, babe. you should’ve just asked.”

“i can’t say no to my little angel.” he gives your pussy one last kiss before straightening himself, clicking the tension out of his neck.

“now then…”

he motions his index in a slight flick, other hand working to unzip himself.

“leg up.”

you reach out behind you, laying your palm flat against the train door to catch your balance. you shakily lift your leg up, allowing gojo to press his hand and hold you by the back of your knee. he groans when his veiny dick springs from its confines, curved shaft slicking against his jacket. the fabric makes him cringe a little, but he doesn’t waste time in aligning himself with your creamy cunt.

gojo guides his throbbing pink tip in, glancing down to watch how your pussy wraps and folds around his cock. it’s always been one of his favourite sights.

your head tilts and jaw falls slack at the initial push of his head. your thighs tremble and chest heaves as his dick fills you up and snaps into place like a jigsaw piece. there’s that vein on the underside of his shaft that always drives you crazy.

“so tight. you’re so wet for me. fuck.”

“you little shit, you’re totally into this as much as i am, aren’t you?” gojo grabs ahold of your chin, tilting your face to look at him. his lips briefly clash with yours. he pulls you in, tugging at your bottom lip and circling his tongue against the tip of yours. there’s a thin line of saliva that separates your mouth from his. he tastes faintly bitter yet sweet. it takes a couple of moments for it to click that it’s the taste of your own cunt.

“i know it feels good, but, try not to scream?”

“yeah ri- aah!-ght-“ you squeak, body jolting when gojo pulls himself out before slamming himself right into your g-spot. there’s the loud slap of his balls hitting against your skin, and it’s only a taste of what’s to come.

“you say somethin’?”

“n-no-“

“really? i thought i heard you talk. you tryna say that i’m wrong, then?”

“n-no-“

you’re not sure how he can keep up with the conversation. all you can hear is the garbled static in your mind, the froth that wants to seep out of the corners of your lips. you babble and whine incessantly. every rough slam of his hips sends you even more over the edge, ecstasy and harsh tingles crashing against your body as gojo rearranges your guts. you’ve lost all feeling in the leg that he’s holding up. just watching him fuck you like this is almost enough to make you cum.

you eye the deep blue veins that ride against his pale skin. his long and slender fingertips reach out as he curls one hand around your neck, thumb brushing affectionately underneath your chin. it’s nothing but a warning sign.

“listen to me when i’m talking to you.”

[rivendellsstuff]

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | ❝In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he know the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.❞

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2310;

Genre: friends to lovers;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. The first chapter is set before the events of the first season. Friends with benefits — so, it'll be eventual smut (like, a lot!)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: English isn't my natives language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

━━━━ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

Some men's whish the glory, others crawl like snakes by power and there is those who live like rats in the system. However, there is a exception — and his names is Levi Ackerman. Emerged from the underground, by dust and blood, forged as a weapon at an early age and steeped in pride, he raised as humanity's strongest soldier. He carries a doctrine, imbedded in his bones: he serves to humanity, the balance and the freedom of mankind. If there is a threat, he is the man who can fight against it, ranging from cruel people to evil titans.

He was born in cruel times and did his best to survive in the Underground. He found a glory he wasn't looking for. Something many wish to through their lives, but which, for him, was irrelevant. They all bleed, they all are stuck on the Walls and share the same ended chapter: the death. The final outcome is not defined by possessions, achievements or privileges in life. The only difference was that could get death any easier and painless. Levi was not a hypocrite: he would rather a peaceful death, lying on his bed, instead of being eaten by a titan.

He rather — and is all what it is. It wasn't like if he had any choice. The Ackerman's family were designed to protect the people and to fight. They were cursed with a power. Some people could say it is a miracle in dark times. Others would argue that mans were corrupted, cruel and too ambitious to deal with that awakened power. Well, Levi knows, that no everyone were worthy to possess such ability — Kenny, that asshole, was one of them.

However, there was kind strange situation. An only exception, an affliction that hung over through the heart and maddened his mind: you.

Desire wasn't a word enough to define how he feels close to you, a fearless female warrior, who destroy each barrier he has built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of you hurt. Levi knew he would have taken a checkmate just by desiring you.

But when it all starts? He couldn't say with sure. Maybe, when he, Farlan and Isabel were recruited by the Survey Corps, and you were the only one who spoke to them without undriveable mock and trial. You, besides Erwin, didn't seem to care where they came from. As deeply loyal as you were to your comrades, you didn't depend on your interactions with them for take a direction — you were content to follow your own passions and desires without input from anyone else.

Maybe it started when he saw you in battle or an a argue with a member of Military Police Regiment. Fear is not in yours's vocabulary when you are on the battlefield or when you are speaking her mind to others.

As their partnership grew, he'd find some similarities between you, but also many differences.

You, just like him, has little patience for any form of prose or riddles when you are communicating with others. You speak bluntly and without pretense, and expects others to do the same, prefers to get to the point and doesn’t seek to romanticize your expectations or intentions. You also are focused on the present issues and what role you can play in protecting the people that you love, what can prevent you from seeing the future results of your present actions and, unlike him, does result in some impulsive and risky — yet brave— actions.

All these little things over the years, made him fall in love with you, and Levi had ways to say it without saying "I love you".

Like that night.

He wasn't hiding his disgust face when handed you a cup full of that steaming, black liquid; the simply smelling coffee could make your stomach turn, but still, he prepares a cup for you every night.

As the second in the command, you have spent several evenings together conducting the next advances of the squadron. So, there you are, sitting next to him, eyes focused on the paper, turning the pen between your fingers and... biting your lower lip.

Occasionally, almost instinctively Levi raises his eyes to you. Being so close of you was it's a unique feeling. The smell of your perfume as stunning, and his throat closes around the words he would like to say. The tension that has been brought in was too dangerous for someone like him.

Fucking woman, fucking lips. Fuck you!

''Is there a problem?'', you inquired making eye contact for the first time that night. He couldn't say if there was perversion when you wet your own lips, but Levi felt his muscles become tense and contracted when you made it.

Levi responded with a faint whimper before observed: ''You shouldn't be drinking so much coffee at this time. You look like shit when don't get sleep''.

Lie. Fucking hell, you're always beautiful, but no way he'd say what he thought.

You rolled your eyes. ''It's you who did'', you put forth.

''I wasn't in the mood to put up with a brat attitude from you.''

''Brat? You know that we have about the same age, don't you?'', your gaze traveled from the figure sat in front of you to the window, confused as to why you would be embarrassed about his presence. You took in a breath before adding: ''Anyway, don't want sleep.''

There was a pause for a few seconds. You and he eyed each other.

''Why?'', he asks, authoritative one.

You shrugged and shook your head firmly. ''It doesn't matter.''

''If it doesn't matter, why would I have asked that?''

"Cause you're snooper”, you smirked.

''I'm not a snooper, brat."

He felt his heart begin to quicken when you carried the pen to your lips and start biting.

"Yes, you are a horrible snooper old man, bossy and with an astonishing mania for cleanliness."

"Old? You know we have about the same age”; he repeats. His eyes drifted back to your face, noticing your gaze had shifted again to the woods beyond the window. "And you're avoiding the question", he softly says (at least as softy as he could be), interrupting your rampant thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Levi watches in silence as you'd shoulders slump.

"I can't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being evil, although I always thought that one day it'd get better", you're voice was low and flat, quiet and a little sad as you spoke to Levi, who seemed to know what are you exactly referred to and only nodded at your words. "I feel guilty. All the time."

Even in the darkness the room held, your eyes find his greys one like the starlight's.

''Are you afraid of your dreams, too?'', you asked, never expecting the humanity strongest soldier to have any fears.

'Yes'', he said quietly.

You nodded with hesitation, his words repainting in your head as you struggled to forma a sentence to answered.

Levi was used to such sadness, he had month's — no, years — to griever over the deaths of his mother and friends. Death was not uncommon thing in his life. His childhood who should be carefree, playing in the sun, was like a living nightmare, learning to fight in the darkness of Underground. Later, when he left the place to join the Survey Corps, he accepted to live in that never ending tragedy that people had sadly grown used to. Death was more common in that job than anything else, and he knows how badly it fuck with his mind.

“I’m beginning to think we’re a lot alike… you and me. We’re both strange cast, who’ve learned to fight when we’re backed into a corner'', you began weakly.

''Well, we’re backed into a corner now. Two fucking insomniacs”, he shook his head, thinking about your words. He didn't seem to like the way your voice sounded sadder. You raised your eyes to him again as he slowly spoke: ''You're not alone''

You answered a tiny smile onto your lips. Levi felt his cheeks burn and opposite glanced to your empty coffee cup, thinking that he'll able to always tolerate your strange addiction.

A few second later you both went back to work, and Levi was left with words stuck, temptation planted in the mind and a sure thing for him: the insomniac nights would become better by you.

【 ━━ 】

Inside Wall Sheena, guests were arriving, among them five members of the Scout Regiment - consisting mostly of commanders - walked through the gates, exuding self-confidence, bitter to participate in that boring and stupid meeting.

Little lies, little social sacrifices to feed what kept the Scout Regiment going: funding.

It was not necessary to be an expert in politics to see beyond the traditional veil of those events, to perceive the intentions of certain parliamentarians, very sadistic. Knowing it was part of your job to relate to these kinds of people annoyed you.

For one minute, you saw out of the corner of your eyes, the first on your command. The man of grey eyes used a black suit that fits perfectly. Be present in an event with so many politics didn't seem to his liking. Was kind of hard for all of you play nice one with all this tension in the air.

You've never felt the feeling of fear and tension like that inside the Walls before.

''Stop frowning before you break your face''

'It would be so sad, and you would cry for being depriving of that beautiful face''

''Oh, fuck yourself'', he says, angrily.

''If you watch''

You smirched at his expression as he looks up to you, after seeing your face, he turns away.

''Watch your words, brat''

''Or what, old man? What will you do to me?''

He looks back up at you.

''I could break you habit of drinking coffee, put you to clean all the HQ or even to help Hange with the experiments. The three together seems good, by the way''

You roll your eyes.

''You're mean''

'You're annoying'', he replied. ''And you know, if you keep rolling your eyes one day their going to get stuck like that''

''Are you trying to be funny?''

His little grin showed up making you roll eyes into a smile. He was terribly bossy and annoying, but you like that about him.

You took the glass of wine to your lips and raised your eyes to hit his. Levi hovered over you, making you felt that flame into your heart once more. Your eyes tailed down to Levi's lips then back to his eyes. You could feel your heart beating recklessly.

Fucking grey eyes, fucking black suit. Fuck you!

You felt a thumb on your cheeks, making them burn.

''You look...'', he started whispered and slightly caress your cheeks. Your body started to get hot under his soft touch. ''... beautiful. You look beautiful''

You were speechless.

You liked the sudden ardor, of the dangerous attraction, of folly and frivolous with provocative sins. Liked and thought how the taste of his lips would be: the indomitable, the irresistible, the powerful and sin.

He slowly dragged his hand down to my thorax wrapping his hands around it. A soft gasp escaped of your lips.

''You know... If you want dance, it'll not rude to ask'', you try to say. ''The song is awful, but I'm not a demanding partner''

''Only if you don’t step on my foot''

His prepotency make you smile.

''Don’t be a bad partner and there will be no mistakes'', you retorted, making him raised one of the eyebrows. ''That's how a men should behave next to a woman''

He took you in his arms, abruptly, making the bodies collide with intensity. You gasped, very close to Levi's ears, who felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Leading you through music, in no second was the look averted, in a battle for unknown control.

You and Levi explored a unique experience.

He stares burned deep into your body. His touch on your skin made your body tingle.

Fuck, control yourself. Don't get turned on by him!

He didn't say anything, just left you hold into him. You could feel your body burning around him. What was he doing to you? It felt like a spell. The effect of sin, of desire. You should get rid of that, all you needed least were distractions in the workplace and ruin the friendship, trust and partnership that you two took so long to build.

However, both keep looking to each other longer than friends should. Longer than friends should...

He could saw you lost inside your mind. Slowly, he pulled down his fingers, lazily touching the skin of your exposed back by the dress. Levi's vision was blinded by the desire his image represented. The surroundings smelled wine and fruits, intoxicating his sense. The ears, doomed to hear the political bullshit. His tact could burn by touching you. His taste? It was dangerous, because wanted to discover the taste of your lips and body.

But not now, not here.

You are his friend — the only who was left. In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he knew the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.

To hell all of that. When you both got back, he'll fucked you, every way that he can thinking off. He wants to pound into you, slammed into you and give the best night that you ever have. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

''Good girl'', he whispers next to your ears. ''But I'll show you how true men should behave next to a woman when we get back''

[nsfwjay]

Imagine panty thief!hyung line ….. how do you think each of them would be like as panty thieves??? ☺️☺️☺️

now this is a great concept THANK u for this ask 🥸😵‍💫💗❗️

panty thief!roomie!hyungline

HEESEUNG

- rly wants to do it (trust me, he REALLY wants to) but is too shy both bc of the lewdness of the idea itself and also scared of being caught

- so he just talks about it a lot… watches a lot of porn with it… but doesn’t do it for ages

- when he finally does it he’s too shy to actually rub your panties all over his cock but he loves putting it up to his face and smelling it… closes his eyes and jerks off pretending you’re sitting on his face

- trust him to be the type where he finally does it after a while and no he doesn’t get caught in the moment he gets caught a day later bc he was too excited over finally doing the deed that he forgot to either hide the panties or put it back in your laundry instead of his….

- so u find it in his laundry the next time. but you aren’t shocked bc tbh you’ve heard him talking abt it on the phone w his friends…. why else did you start walking around the house in extra short shorts and only tank tops instead of big tshirts to sleep? you were honestly curious to see how far his lust for you would go and loved him get flustered around you, his face got all cutely shy

-you let him do it a few more times before you confront him about it, knocking on his door under the pretenses of ‘just hanging out! :D’ but immediately head for his laundry hamper, knowing your panties are there… u can see the horror in his face when he sees u going for it

- “heeseung, if u wanted to fuck me so bad you could’ve just told me, i’m right next door you know! you’re so filthy~” you wave your panties in his face and corner him on the bed <3 he gets so shy but even then cant resist rubbing his hands up and down your sides, you’re right there

- he’s surprised that you’re not disgusted or mad… but you guys finally fuck on his bed so he’s a winner <3

JAY

- wants to do it, does it the next day. he is not nervous he is so confident he can do it and doesn’t care if u find out, he’s sure that he can lie himself out of that situation

- but this dude is so filthy with it… jerks off with your panties on his cock, comes all over your panties and imagines it was him cumming on your pussy before putting your panties back on and forcing u to keep his cum in the whole day <3

- it’s so simple. another time u walk in on him jerking off with what is undeniably your pantries, his moans loud and breathy with an occasional suppressed hiss here and there, hips canting up and off the bed, ab muscles flexing… wait. “jay, are those my panties?!?!?”

- he cums so hard the moment your eyes meet his, the shame of getting caught and the pleasure stroking his exhibitionist side mixing together….his cum shoots all over your panties and a bit on his thigh as well. “yes?” he pants tiredly

- you’re like wtf??? but all he’s got to say for himself is that he just really really wants to fuck you. how dare you prance around the apartment stealing his jackets with nothing underneath! being so cutely thankful when he makes u food after a long day of studying and no eating??

- “i should’ve done this a long time ago but.” after he’s wiped off the cum on his thigh he beckons you over to the bed and grabs your chin and pulls you down roughly to kiss him, pulling you by the waist to straddle him on the bed, higher up and closer to the headboard so you aren’t sitting in the mess he just made of your panties <3

JAKE

- man this dude feels SO bad abt it like he cares abt the MORALS of this and shit…it’s not right…. the trust you’ve put in him as a roommate…. but he does it anyway <3

- he only does it once! and keeps those panties for every time he wants to use them after :)) he thinks that makes it better or something….

- another dude who gets caught while jerking off.. sort of. u walk in on him, in just boxers, digging your panties out of his drawer… tbh he’d washed them a few times and they had begun to lose your scent so he was planning on stealing another one after today! but you catch him..

- “jake, are those my panties?” his head whips around and sees you staring at him incredulously, his eyes widen for a second but then he totally switches his demeanour and stands up, striding over to you quickly and closing the door behind you before crowding you against it

- “yes, they are, what do you think of that, hm? your sweet, sweet best friend has been using your panties to jerk off for the past few days?” not even letting you answer before he leans in to kiss you deeply against the wall <3

SUNGHOON

- tbh he had the urge to do it and had seen pornos with it but was never going to actually do it until . one day he hears u playing truth or dare loudly w ur friends thru zoom and they ask u what u think of having a panty kink… and overhears u say it’s honestly pretty hot

- from then on, he starts stealing panties to jerk off on, leaving them in your hamper after you’d done laundry to confuse you, taking more different pairs and then returning them… and after a few weeks you jokingly said to him you thought you had a panty thief because all these panties you didn’t remember wearing that week would show up and disappear from your hamper… but he just shrugs and laughs at your joke

- you find out one day on video call, you’re out of town for a week and you spot something at the back of his room where his camera faces… are those yours? “sunghoon, are those panties…back there?”

- he’s not even fazed… “yes, you did say you had a panty thief, hm? took you long enough to figure out :)” he sweetly says

- “have you been…jerking off with them?” youre blushing now, even more pronounced on the grainy video camera, and it’s so cute to him

- “yes, my love. care to show me what panties you’re wearing today?” and then it just escalates to video call sex, both of you masturbating on call, his hand running up and down his pretty cock watching as you shyly trail your fingers over your clothed pussy <3

[phoenixyfriend]

Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak​.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death,  I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says  “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and  Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia:  I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

[kay-diggle]

The Promise Ring

Summary: Some promises are broken, some promises remain intact, and new promises are made.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre & Rating: Angst, Smut, Hint of Fluff, 18+

Warnings: oral (m. recieving), somewhat dom!jungkook (he’s actually a big softie) sub!reader, hairpulling, mentions of jealousy, overstimulation, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex (pls pls pls stay safe guys!)

Length: 4.2k

Notes: I apologize that the first fic I post in months is so terrible (it highkey feels like it’s all over the place but that’s okay!) If you somehow enjoy this... please let me know! I’m still kinda in hiatus bc of school btw :( {Requests are closed}

Kay-Diggle’s Ultimate Masterlist

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Before 

“It’s so pretty out here tonight,” you commented on the beautiful scenery in front of you. You were laid across your boyfriend’s lap while he leaned back, both taking in the view. 

 For your four year anniversary, Jungkook took you out to a clearing that overlooks the city. You had a late night picnic, eating your favorite foods while sharing some of your favorite memories from the past four years you’ve been together. 

“Yea… but you’re prettier.” 

“Ugh, corrrnnyyyy,” you whined despite feeling yourself begin to blush. 

“Yea, but you love it,” he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And I think this is the perfect time to give you your anniversary gift babe!” 

“No! I definitely told you I did not want a gift this year.” 

“Well that is definitely too bad because I got you one anyways,” he countered, playful as ever. 

He sat up, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. It was hard to see since it was dark outside, but when you clearly saw the velvet black box, you felt a rush of all different types of emotions exploding within you. Upon seeing your shocked face, he stupidly grinned before opening the box, confirming your suspicions about what was inside. 

“Jungkook….” your jaw dropped as you looked at the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. 

“Y/n,” his hand found yours, “I love you so much baby. These past four years have been…. just, so amazing that it’s kind of hard to put into words, ya know? But the one thing I can tell you for sure is that we were meant to be together. You were literally made for me -- my handcrafted destiny. And I promise you that will never change. I promise that I will never stop loving you, I’ll never hurt you. I promise you that I will never break your heart.” 

Nothing could stop the way tears pooled into your eyes at his heartfelt words. You were speechless, only being able to mouth the words ‘I love you’ while Jungkook began laughing at you while wiping away your tears.  

“I know what you’re thinking but it’s not that, so don’t freak out! It’s a promise ring,” he took your left hand, placing said ring on your finger. 

You couldn’t even focus on his words, you just wanted to hug him. And so you did. As soon as he slipped the ring on your finger, you were wrapping him in your arms and tackling him to the ground, crying while laughing at the same time while he laughed with you. 

“Did you even hear me just now?” he chuckled. 

“Yes, not a proposal, but a promise ring,” you nodded. 

“Okay. Just keep in mind I will ask you to marry me one day,” he smirked. 

"And I, Y/n, promise you, Jungkook, that when that day does come, I'll say yes. If you would've asked me tonight I would have said yes with no hesitation." 

“Well then, I can’t wait for that day, hm?” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

And that night, the two of you made love outside, underneath the stars. 

Now 

When you walked into the room you felt your stomach drop. Seeing your ex-boyfriend’s face months after the worst break up you’ve ever had instead of his best friend who you were planning to meet up with was not what you were expecting when you opened the door. 

“You’re not Namjoon,” a deep frown set on your face. 

“I know. I asked him to get you here. Y/n, please… just hear me out.” 

“No Jungkook,” you shook your head. “I believe you said enough the last time we saw each other, yea?” 

You turned, placing your hand on the doorknob and turning it. Before you could fully open it, you felt a force push it back closed with Jungkook’s strong presence behind you, his hand pressed against the door above your head.

“Y/n. Stay.” 

He whispered it in your ear and although he said it in a commanding voice, his voice was strained almost as if he was begging. You stood completely still for a moment, your heart and mind battling against each other even though you already knew their fight was pointless. In the end, your heart always made you cave. 

You turned to face him, realizing that you were completely trapped between him and the door, you quickly became uncomfortable. Fuck your stupid heart for not being able to resisit the man who broke it. 

“What do you want?” 

“I miss you.” 

You scoffed at that. 

“Well that’s something you could have communicated over the phone rather than creating this whole elaborate plan with Namjoon and getting him to lure me all the way to this hotel.” 

“You realize that you blocked me… on everything, right? I can’t communicate anything to you,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, I realize that. And I did that for a reason. What part of ‘I never want to hear from you or see you again’ did you not understand from when we broke up?” 

“Oh I understood that shit perfectly and I still think it’s fucking bogus.” 

“Yea of fucking course you would. You know that was always your problem. You never see things from my point of view.” 

“Oh and what point of view would that be? Starting arguments over nothing because you’re bored to the point where we had to actually BREAK UP?” 

“Bored Jungkook? Really? I assure you that if I was really bored I would’ve found better ways of occupying my time than arguing with your ass over the same shit.” 

“Oh get real Y/n.” 

“No, you get real!! Your head is so far up your fucking ass that eight months later you still can’t see what you did wrong.” 

“There’s nothing to see! I didn’t do anything!!” 

“Jungkook I fucking told you on multiple occasions that I didn’t appreciate you entertaining that girl when she flirted with you! You know, the one who was only supposed to be a close FRIEND?!?” 

“Jesus Christ y/n, you act as if I FUCKED her. I didn’t even flirt back!” he stepped back from you, crossing his arms under his chest. 

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER! Do you understand how it made me feel?? How she would whisper with her friends, talk shit about OUR relationship and I just had to sit back and listen. OH but the ONE time I get drunk and flirt with Taehyung in a moment of weakness, suddenly I was the villain. Suddenly I destroyed our relationship and was all types of whores and sluts. Honestly Jungkook, you can go to hell.” 

“You flirted with my BEST FRIEND y/n.. Basically offered to suck his dick. I’m sorry, was I not supposed to get angry?” 

“No but I definitely wasn’t expecting you to disrespect me by calling me out of my name Jungkook!”

“I APOLOGIZED! I apologized as soon as I realized what I said. And I’ll apologize again if that’s what it’ll take to-” 

“No you don’t have to do shit. I’m leaving. I can’t believe I even stayed this long. Ugh, this is my problem. I’m always too nice to people who don’t deserve my kindness,” your words came out venomous. 

Jungkook bared his teeth, visibly upset before he walked towards you, forcing your body back into the wall. 

“No your problem was you never wanted to fucking talk. It was ALWAYS arguing with you. EVEN NOW! I invited you here to have a conversation and look at what you started!” 

“No YOU started it!” you poked your finger into his chest. “You knew exactly what would happen if we saw each other again which is exactly why you got me here under false pretenses. This is all your fault,” you screamed. “Everything. Was. Your. Fault.” you poked his chest with each word. 

Jungkook grabbed the finger you kept poking him with and it made you audibly gasp. He stared down at you with a look that came across as angry but having been in this position with him before, you could also notice a slight hint of lust in his eyes. 

He let go of your finger before gently pushing his palm into your chest, making your back hit the door and grabbing your wrists, holding them against the door. 

“Listen. To. Me,” he spoke slowly. “I am not putting up with your attitude tonight so stop.” 

“Make me.” 

It was like clock work, the way the two simple words you uttered set him off. He let go of one of your wrists to wrap his hand around your neck, choking you lightly and bent down to whisper in your breath. 

“Stop fucking playing with me Y/N. You already know what happens when you do that shit.” 

“Hmm… well it has been eight months. Maybe you need to refresh my memory?” you challenged. 

Jungkook grunted out of frustration before tightening his grip on your throat and kissing you. The kiss was rushed and furious, much different than the ones you’ve shared with him in the past. No matter how upset he was with you, his lips were always gentle on your skin, but this was completely different. He forced his tongue into your mouth and bit on your lips so hard you were worried he would draw blood. 

His other hand let go of your wrist, trailing it up your thigh to squeezing your waist and ultimately groping your ass while giving your lips a break to attack the sweet spots on your neck instead. 

“Fuck….” you moaned out when his hand began squeezing your breasts, brushing against your hard nipples. 

“You like when I play with your tits?” 

“Nope,” you spit out. “You’re barely doing anything for me right now.” 

“Hmm well you wanna know what I like? When you can’t talk. How about we shut you up.” 

He shrugged off his jacket, placing it on the floor before pushing you to your knees. Having been in this position before, you reacted automatically, rubbing his length through his pants a little. You unbuckled his belt and undid his pants before pulling them and his boxers down just enough to reveal his semi hard dick. After finally seeing it again after months, it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss it. 

“Suck. Now.” 

At his command, you looked up at him while wrapping your hand around his base, letting spit drip from your mouth onto him to make him wet. You moved your hand up and down his length a bit before finally taking him into your mouth, You let your tongue run on the underside of his dick from base to tip before wrapping your lips around his tip and lightly sucking, just like you knew he liked. You looked up at him, covering your teeth with your lips and taking his length further in your throat. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, guiding you up and down his length while his other was spread against the door as if using it to hold himself up. You felt him twitch in your mouth before there was a knock at the door. 

“Jungkook? Y/n? I just came to make sure you guys didn’t kill each other in here,” Namjoon joked wearily. 

“Yup! All good,” came Jungkook’s hasty response when he felt you take in his length completely, deepthroating him. 

“I see you’re acting out for Namjoon,” he whispered looking down at your teasing face before using your hair to push you further down and hold you there. 

After a few seconds he let you up, coughing up spit while gasping for air loud enough that Namjoon could hear. 

“Jungkook what was that? Where’s y/n?” 

“She’s here. She’s fine. We’re working it out. Bye Namjoon!” Jungkook made you go back to sucking his cock after letting you get a few breaths. 

“Maybe I should come in and mediate….” Namjoon contemplated, completely unaware of what was happening on the other side of the room. 

“Unless you want to see her choking on my dick, maybe now is not the best time Namjoon,” Jungkook was starting to get annoyed. 

“Oh… in that case.. I’ll just get going I guess…. Glad to hear you two are.. Working it out?” Both you and Jungkook could hear Namjoon taking off in the opposite direction of the room. It made you giggle a little bit, vibrating against Jungkook’s cock. Nearly cumming down your throat at the feeling, he slapped his hand against the door before using your hair to pull your mouth off of him. 

His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling your body back into a standing position before capturing your lips in a heated kiss again. 

“Fucking Namjoon….” Jungkook trailed off, his hands now exploring your body again. “And why the fuck were you coming to see Namjoon dressed like this?” He asked, referring to the tiny black dress you were wearing that barely covered your ass. 

You replied with the most petty thing you could think of. “I don’t know. Maybe it was so that I could finally fuck one of your best friends, like I was accused of doing.” 

Jungkook gritted his teeth, yet again visibly annoyed with you. “And how should I fuck you fuck, hm? Should I fuck you against the door? Make you scream my name? Make sure everyone in this hotel knows how much you’ve fucking missed me?” 

His fingers traveled under your dress and pulled your soaked panties to the side, easily slipping a finger into you and then adding another beginning to fuck you

“Ah, shit!” 

“Answer the question.” 

“Fuck! Yes, fuck me wherever you like” 

At that, he quickly ripped your underwear off your body and pulled your dress off, wanting as much access to your bare skin as possible. He pulled the rest of his pants off as you tugged his shirt off and threw it across the room. 

He pushed you completely against the door and raised one of your legs to wrap around his waist. Taking his length in his hand, he slapped it against your clit a few times, smirking at you as you whimpered at the feeling. He rubbed his length against your wet folds until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Jungkook,” you were annoyed. 

“Yes?” He looked at you with a sly smile on his face. 

“Just put it in!” 

“Beg me first.” 

“You’re so goddamn irritating.” 

“Now Y/n, is that any way to talk to someone who can give you what you so desperately need?” His condescending tone of voice only worked to aggravate you further, but you not wanting to waste anymore time, you gave in. 

“Please Jungkook! Please fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, it’s been too long. Please i-  I need you!” 

He pressed your waist further into the door before finally sliding inside of you. 

“I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth that isn’t you begging or my name,” he whispered in your ear as he began to fuck you, his movements made easier by your wetness. “No talking back.” Hard Thrust. “No smart ass comments.” Hard thrust. “Nothing.”

When he began pounding into you, you lost your footing, almost slipping. With a grunt, Jungkook grabbed both of your thighs, hoisting you up against the door and trapping you under his body. With this new position, he spread your legs further, now being able to go deeper within you. When you felt his tip repeatedly nudge the spongy spot within you, you let out your loudest sound yet, a combination of Jungkook’s name and a moan. He apparently thought it was too loud because he covered your mouth with the palm. 

“Be quiet” he whispered in your ear harshly. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, moving his palm so that you could speak. “‘I’m sorry, it’s just so good, ugh fuck.” 

“Yea, bubby? Did you miss me fucking this tight pussy? Missed me pounding into you just the way you like?” 

The cute pet name he used to call you when you were in a relationship completely flew over your head. The only thing you could focus on was the way his cock felt sliding against your walls, throbbing inside of you. 

“God, please! Please make me cum.” 

“You wanna cum? You missed cumming all over my cock right?” 

“Fuck yes! God,” you cried out when he went harder, your body banging into the door with every thrust. 

Jungkook was too busy holding your body up so he could fuck you properly, so you one of the hands that was gripping his shoulders down to your throbbing clit, rubbing it so that you could bring yourself to your end. Jungkook’s eyes traveled down to where your fingers were working, biting his lip at the sight. 

“Mmhmm, yes bubby. Rub that little pretty clit of yours. Are you gonna make yourself cum, hmm? Be a good girl for once and make yourself cum for me?”

“Yes.. yes, I’m gonna cum so hard Jungkook, just for you! Ahhh, fucckkkk” You were spewing so many words in your moment of bliss that you couldn’t even recall what you were saying.Your legs trembled while your hands wrapped around Jungkook’s wrist as he fucked you through your high. Your entire body felt overwhelmed as you came, especially when Jungkook kissed you while you were still shaking all over his dick, making it even harder for you to breathe. 

Disconnecting your lips so you could both catch a breath, jungkook asked “You came so hard, can you take more?” 

“Yes. Please, I need more.” Jungkook could see in your eyes how fucked out you were. The look you gave him had his cock throbbing so hard that he felt he could cum in that exact moment. 

He carried your limp body to the bed on the other side of the room, placing you down on the edge and instructing you to move up towards the headboard, holding back a laugh as he watched you struggle to crawl with your worn out legs. 

He joined you on the bed, sitting on his knees between your spread legs, touching himself at the sight of your post-orgasm face and glistening wetness. Watching him bite his lip and touch himself while looking you dead in the eye had your worn out pussy whimpering for him again, demanding more, and you couldn’t wait. You wrapped your legs around his waist, prompting him to hover over you, hands right beside your head to hold himself up. 

“Do you want it?” 

You quickly nodded your head. 

“Words, bubby.” 

“Yes Jungkook.” 

And then you both watched as he slid his length back inside of your cavern. Compared to his fast and rough thrust earlier, these were slower and more calculated. He was grinding into you in a way where you could feel his pelvis brush against your clit every time he moved deeper into you. You cried out to him again from the overstimulation. 

“You okay y/n?” he questioned, not stopping his movements. 

“Yea, just sensitive. Please don’t stop,” you begged, 

“I promise I won’t. I don’t ever want to stop….” 

You couldn’t focus on his words while he moved inside you. All you could do is let the moans roll out of your mouth that hung wide open. And all Jungkook could do was watch, thinking about how much he missed this. How much he missed you. 

He lowered his body so that he was basically laying on top of you, one hand gripping your waist while the other gripped the sheet next to your head. He rolled his hips into you at a faster pace and you couldn’t help but fling your arms around him, holding on tight. He dropped his forehead to yours and you finally looked at him, really looked at him without the lust clouding your eyes. You were still able to read him the same way you always could. You finally noticed the drop in his earlier dominant persona and how he became softer with the way he touched you. 

You felt his love radiating through you. He was making love to you. 

“Fuck y/n, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“Jungkook … please, please don’t. Please just fuck me,” you begged. You couldn’t do this. You weren’t ready to face your feelings. 

“I can’t just fuck you. I want more. I want you.” Both of his hands found their way to yours, locking your fingers together while looking each other in the eye. “I only want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I love you, bubby. I’ve never stopped… ugh, I promised I never would.”

His sudden confession made all of the emotions you thought you had locked away for the past eight months come back. You were crying. You were sobbing under the guise of pleasure.. It was all too bittersweet. Jungkook was simultaneously making your body feel good but your heart feel so sad. 

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t have the words. You just clamped your walls around him, pushing you both towards your climaxes. He squeezed your hands when he felt his balls tighten and cock throb, kissing you and groaning against your mouth as he came inside of you. He left open mouthed kisses on your face and down your body. This time, it was his fingers on your clit that brought you to your second end, all while whispering sweet, meaningful words in your ear about how beautiful you were and how much he misses you. It made your orgasm more intense, your feelings overriding your senses as you spasmed around his now soft cock inside of you. 

When he finally pulled out, he kissed you deeply for only a second, hugging your body closer to his and wiping your tears away as you both tried to catch your breath yet again. When the stickiness of your lower body began to feel as heavy as your heart and to Jungkook’s dismay, you got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, taking some time to clean up and silently sob into your hand before splashing water onto your tear stained cheek. You weren’t prepared for what would happen when you walked out the door and faced your ex lover again, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it either. 

Exiting the bathroom you saw Jungkook already dressed and  you scanned the room for your clothing which was mostly by the door. Jungkook silently watched as you dressed yourself and when he saw the look on your face when you turned around, he shot out of the bed and rushed towards you. 

“Marry me.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Jungkook…. What? Are you insane?!?” 

When he brought his hand into your line of sight, you recognized the item you threw at his chest eight months ago as you packed your bags and prepared to leave him. The cursed promise ring. 

“Do you remember when I gave this to you? I promised you that one day I would ask you to marry me. Well today is that day…... Do you remember what you promised me?” 

“Jungkook… “ 

“What did you promise me y/n?” he was desperate.

“I promised- I promised that I would say yes when you asked,” you mumbled, eyesight being blocked by fresh tears. 

“Well I’m asking,” he got down on one knee. “Y/n, will you marry me?” 

“This isn’t fair,” you sobbed. “I said that when we were still together. Things have changed Jungkook.” 

“Oh really? What’s changed y/n? We haven’t been together for a few months, but who cares. The only thing that matters is that our feelings haven’t been affected by our time apart. And they never will be. We’re always going to be in love. I promised you that.” 

Jungkook was crying himself at this point, and it broke you. Your head and heart were once again at war, but that didn’t matter. Nothing else could matter to you when the love of your life was on one knee in front of you, professing his undying love for you and asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Your heart and your mind ultimately knew that he was right. Your feelings for him never changed, and they never would. There was no point trying to fight it. And yea he might have broken a promise or two, but he was making good on them now, and that was all that mattered. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, before mumbling out a small “Yes.” 

When you opened your eyes, your new fiancé looked dumbfounded with the brightest smile you had ever seen on him. He cried out in joy before coming off his knee, lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around before trapping your face in his hands and kissing you as if his life depended on it. You couldn’t help but laugh as you wiped both his and your own tears away. 

“Was this your whole plan? To propose to me tonight?” 

“It was,” he grinned. “Now that I know what my life is like without you in it, I’m never letting you go again. And that’s a promise.” 

[hoe-imaginess]

vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader 

summary: Dabi isn’t aware that the LoV has an omega up for grabs, not until he accidentally comes across you in heat. 

word count: 11.7k

contains: dub-con elements, scent kink, humiliation, masturbation, hella dirty talk, mentions of blood/burns, Dabi being an all around bastard

a/n: commissioned by K to share part of my ABO fic. Most ABO stuff makes me squeamish so I leave out token tropes (aka knots) another private fic that I didn’t plan on posting so it’s kinda uhhhhh bad lmao. will possibly post more but idk. 

DON'T let the title mislead you ok Dabi is anything but vanilla 

⤰

When he found the safehouse, Dabi knocked at the front entrance.

For a long time there was no response, and he tried again, louder this time and with more exasperation.

“Coming,” he heard a shout finally, muffled across the steel door.

Dabi rubbed his eyes to put some pressure behind them, in hopes it might too take that same pressure away from the sting in his nose.

Some heady omega in the area was in heat, and a bad one; the entire neighborhood reeked of the tantalizing aroma.

He groaned, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his body. He had enough of it running under his skin every second of the day in the form of his quirk. He didn’t need any more. But it was getting worse the longer he waited there with that smell tiding in the air.

He didn’t even know why he was there, doing such a chore, in the first place.

Maybe it was because this League of Villains business was a promising crusade; he’d heard good things and seen for himself some profit in the affiliation, even despite how profusely he disliked the weird hand-guy, or how awkward the black fog in a suit could be. 

The other recruit, Toga—who he found as equally disagreeable as the rest—had all but blindsided him that evening as he exited the dainty bar which they called headquarters.

Could you do me a favor, Dabi? she’d entreated with an attempt at innocent, girl-like charm: a tactic which, as it usually did, failed. The manic grin on her face had only made him want to be away from her company all the sooner.

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast. 

Tomura had asked her to run an errand in one of the more dangerous parts of the city, she’d said, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She was just a girl, after all. Couldn’t Dabi do her this one favor and take the responsibility off her hands? She was too nervous to take a trip like that, and so late in the night.

Bullshit, he’d said, but instead of protesting in defense of herself, she’d just giggled like a lunatic, dropping her pretense.

Still, when she said it was a delivery which needed to be made to you, the only member of the League he had yet to officially meet, curiosity pinched him.

Indifferent as he was to comradery, he was undeniably interested in unearthing the particulars of this would-be villainous syndicate, which included being at least somewhat familiar with his allies. He knew you had been an original member even before he and the psycho schoolgirl came into the fold; but little else. 

You needed a delivery to be made to one of the League’s safehouses? Well, maybe he could oblige, if only to snoop around. Shigaraki was particularly fastidious with the information he willfully shared, and Dabi would take any opportunity to filch information under the boss’s nose in stride.

After all, if Toga, a new—and undoubtedly incompetent—recruit was being tasked with these deliveries, why not Dabi? Why not Kurogiri, who could make the shipment with ease given his quirk?

What was going on behind the scenes that Dabi wasn’t seeing?

Underwhelming as his first task as a newcomer would be, he saw it as an opportunity. He could be a good and useful asset to the League just for the night, he’d decided, when he told Toga he would do it. He was headed to that side of town anyways, he’d said. 

So there he found himself, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground as he waited outside the safehouse. 

That goddamn scent that wafted around the building... Why did he feel as though he’d smelled it before? And why did it smell so… sickeningly sweet?

He tried to distract himself by musing over what might have solicited these late-night deliveries, for example: what was in this suitcase he was meant to give you. 

Toga had handed it to him with such a twisted, giddy smile on her face that he was half-convinced it was a bomb ready to blow and scatter him into pieces for her sick delight. Once he’d found it locked, he’d given up on guessing the contents after he shook the thing and the rattling inside gave no indication of the secrets it held.

More distraction, he entreated himself. 

He thought of the itch of his staples, the uncomfortable tingle on his ridged skin when the air brought heavy wind against it. He thought of anything that might take away from the smell of raw heat in the area, but it was an instinctual pull that left him fidgeting where he stood.

He was about ready to leave the suitcase at the door and hit the road, when there was a commotion from across the threshold.

The aroma that burst from the opening door completely smothered him, made every bone in his body feel like smoldering steel; made lightning shoot down his veins and a low breath catch in his lungs.

You blanked when you saw him there, your pupils blowing wide with shock, then, if he read it correctly, fear.

He sniffed hard, his body scrambling for a source to the scent that begged his alpha inclinations to go wild. The inhalation sent pinpricks of warmth down to his feet. The smell was overwhelming now, almost dizzying.

And it was coming from you.

“Fuck,” he spat, and covered his nose with his arm, backing away from the door.

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded.

“Came to give you this goddamn shit,” he snapped, throwing the suitcase at the door. It landed with a violent thud. His limbs jerked with frayed nerves, like the sun was heating his skin and crawling down to his center. “Are you an idiot!? You know I’m an—”

“I do that’s why I wanted Toga to bring it—”

“She had me do it,” he shouted, and backed himself against the opposite alley wall, a hand clenching and unclenching against his clothed thigh.

Goddamn your smell. Goddamn it. Like vanilla. Horribly sweet. So fucking potent.

He threw his head back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain it kneaded into his skull, and breathed hard.

He wanted to bust down the door. His legs twitched at the impulse; fingers tensed and flames licked their tips.

It would be easy. Kick it down. Burn it down. Burn the whole goddamn place down if need be. He wanted to force his way in, wanted to claw at your clothes and shove himself inside you—

Instead he took another deep breath, and loosed it on a shaky sigh.

He’d handled omega heats before, why was he like this now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much.

“You need to leave,” you muttered from the other side of the door, so resolute and aggrieved that he would have never guessed you were keeled over on the floor, legs shut tight and body shivering. His alpha smell was nauseating you; it was strong and dominating and demanding that you open yourself to him. “Now.”

“Yeah I’m goin',” he snapped angrily, storming off down the alley once his legs restored their loyalty to his head, and not what was between his legs. “Fuck."

⤰

Dabi stroked himself hard and fast and rough, nose pressed into his sleeve, breathing in the sweet tang of vanilla that lingered between the fibers.

He growled out his next breath, and it sputtered off into a wobbly sigh as he closed his eyes and thought of you: those perfect tits he was sure you were hiding under your clothes; your ass, which would look like nice, he knew, with his handprints burned onto the skin; and then your cunt—fuck, he could almost imagine how tight it was, how hotly it would grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum—the mere vision of it pink and twitching and spread out for him was like an explosive punch to his gut.

He came in thick, hot spurts, some rolling over his knuckles as he quickly twisted his fist over the cockhead, others staining the brick wall in front of him with ropey, white streaks.

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. A hand shot to the wall and braced himself there for balance, kept him upright while his quivering knees threatened to fail him.

When was the last time he’d even had to rub one out like this? In a dirty fucking alley? And least of all because of some stupid omega?

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

“Dabi!” Toga squealed when he returned to the bar later in the morning. She sniffed the air, breathed in his smokey scent, and flashed a hungry smile, tongue dipping out to wet her eager lips. “You smell so strong. Are you worked up?” Then her eyes were bright and thrilled. “Oh? Oh?! Did you see _____-chan? Did you?"

“Yeah, you crazy idiot.” Dabi slammed the bar door shut behind him. "You just forget to mention that she was in heat?”

Shigaraki, who’d been previously uninterested in the debacle, now looked up from his game. “What?”

Toga giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Did you smell her? Oh, it’s so nice, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes twitched and rolled back loftily in ravenous remembrance. “_____-chan smells so sweet. So sweet—”

“You caught her in heat?” Shigaraki asked, accusative but curious. “Are you stupid?"

Scowling, Dabi jerked a thumb at Toga. “Dipshit over here had me take some stuff over to that safehouse you got. I didn’t fuckin’ know."

“You dumb girl,” Shigaraki snapped, turning on her now. “Are you brain dead? Or do you really not get why omegas hide from alphas during heats? Why do you think we have a beta like you go do deliveries now?”

“I know what happens!” she contended. “I thought she could use some company. She smells so delicious. Was it fun, Dabi? Was it fun and romantic and—”

“Try infuriating,” Dabi spat, then set his anger on Shigaraki. “You’re no better. Either of you.” He nodded his head at Kurogiri behind the bar. “Would’ve been nice to know you had an unmated omega in your group.”

“Thought you’d noticed by now,” Shigaraki replied, now somewhat subdued, and tending to his game again. “What, your nose doesn’t work?”

“It works fuckin’ fine. Just didn’t realize that scent you got around here all the time was hers.”

In recollection, he put his sleeve over his nose. The sweet smell had vanished, but the memory of it still haunted his senses, made every nerve in his body flutter with excitement. It was driving him fucking insane.

“How the hell do you two work with an omega?” Dabi asked. “That gets heats like that, no less.”

“We’re not animals,” the leader replied. “Some of us can handle it.”

“My ass. Guessin’ that’s the reason she’s never around, huh? You don’t seem very disciplined. Bet you catch one whiff of that slick and go completely ape shit.”

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

“It was our mistake not warning you,” Kurogiri conciliated the blame, clearly nervous, and possibly displeased by the crass talk. “We were under the impression that you knew. We’ve taken steps to lessen the risk in our years together. We are somewhat… desensitized.”

“Good for you,” Dabi muttered. “I ain’t. A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Now you know,” Shigaraki said, scratching peevishly at his neck. “Stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi tsked. “Yeah, you better hope I do.” Then he stalked off.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shigaraki asked Toga once the other alpha had departed.

Toga keened happily, still enamored with Dabi’s untamed scent. Alphas were so delicious when worked up.

“I forgot,” she insisted dreamily. “Honest, I did.”

“That was a very risky mistake,” Kurogiri was saying, black vapors flitting nervously about his frame. “As a beta, you may not be aware of the risks that both alphas and omegas face when it comes to positions of power–”

Toga pouted and whined, like a child whose gleeful imagination had been thwarted. “I don’t get it. I was just doing them both a favor. Alphas are supposed to take of omegas in heat, aren’t they? What’s the big deal?” She had a stupid smile on her face again, rapt with thoughts of desire. “It must be so nice as an alpha, getting to take any little omega you want… they’re so needy.”

“The big deal, you damn idiot,” Shigaraki started, “is that a guy like that is too selfish to put our objectives before his prick. There’s a reason we don’t mess with that heat and rutting crap here. Complicates things. Makes everyone go crazy. Like you.”

She tittered like a lunatic, proud of her indignity. “She smells so good, Tomura. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

⤰

After your heat, once you’d returned to the bar, you ignored Dabi to the best of your ability.

At first, he seemed content enough to reciprocate the caution. You both treaded carefully: any eye-contact made would be swiftly curtailed with averted gazes; you cleared a room whenever he entered, and vice versa, he acted as though you were invisible to him.

It would be fine, you’d told yourself. You’d dealt with the ugly dynamics your omega lifestyle wrought countless times. You could do it again. Dabi was a new recruit, after all. Promising—albeit coarse—according to Tomura. His contribution to the team far outweighed the plights of your personal struggles. You would be fine. It would be fine.

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

You were sitting in one of the bar’s empty rooms when he sought you out. You smelled him before he rounded the corner, and fear gripped you when the alpha bouquet invaded your senses. But then something else came to seek your submission: an instinctual calling on the wisps of his scent, bringing an anxious and conflicting nostalgia back to you.

God his smell had followed you for days: a smokey aroma, but something so fresh underneath it, like cold mint. You’d never been so enthralled by a scent before, never been so tempted to give in to carnal desire and offer yourself to a being nature had designated as your superior: an alpha.

He stood in the doorway of the room, just looking at you; you stared back, frozen, and made yourself small in hopes that you might avoid whatever confrontation was to come.

“Your heats always that stupidly strong?” he asked.

You blanched and took a deep breath to quell your unease. You wished to anything that the world would swallow you and take you away from what was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst, most uncomfortable confrontations of your life.

“Yes,” you said. “That’s why I have to go away.”

“Why? I mean, most omegas do it. Usually to work it out themselves, right? Bet that little delivery I made was a bunch of toys, wasn’t it?” 

“No,” you said, feeling embarrassed by the mere speculation. “It was a suppressant. They don’t usually work on me... I’m trying to find the right one.”

The broad smirk that shifted his scarring tissue made you shift uncomfortably. “Suppressants are useless if your heat is too strong. That shit was bad. The smell is ridiculous. You clearly ain't doing somethin' right if it’s always that potent.”

You shivered at the mention of your scent. It was always what they mentioned—the alphas. They always raved about your scent: like sweet candy, some said. Most often, vanilla. The sniff of it on your very nose was nauseating after so long: an inescapable quality that put you in the crosshairs of nearly every alpha you’d met, made you frightfully easy prey to their predator.

“I’ve...” Shit, should you be sharing this with him? Normally you did, with most alphas you were acquainted with. Especially those you trusted. But you didn’t trust him. You barely knew him. “I’ve never... been rutted properly. So, they’re stronger. The heats.”

“Never been rutted through a heat?” he asked, scoffing. “Sounds miserable. You’re all backed up, aren’t ya? That’s why you struggle with your scent so much.”

You were quiet. You met his interrogation more confidently than you previously thought possible, given how successfully he’d intimidated you up until now. But your fear was draining away slowly, giving way to some sense of adeptness.

Memories of his scent had haunted your every bodily cell since the moment you’d first experienced it. Although facing it again now was overwhelming, you’d steeled yourself since then.

It would be okay, you reminded yourself. Conferring with allied alphas was only a necessary tack if you were going to keep the peace.

“I have, obviously,” you answered. “I’ve been rutted through a heat. But, it’s not the same if it’s not with… well—”

“An alpha?” he finished, and couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “You’ve never been with an alpha in your heat?”

You shook your head. And then there it was, the returning frailty so thick that it seized the room. Why were you so humiliated to speak your truths? They were truths, after all, under his harsh gaze or not.

“…I’ve never been with an alpha at all.”

He actually laughed. “Nah. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

A wry, callous grin stretched his staples. He tilted his head and hummed curiously. “You afraid? Of alphas?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Omegas are normally dyin’ to get laid when they’re in heat. Especially when they’re surrounded by alphas they actually know, like you are. Would be one thing if you were locking yourself up to hide from strangers, but you’re not. Gross as that hand-guy is, he seems like he’d rut for ya."

“I just don’t... want it.”

“Nah. You’re scared. I can tell. Should’ve seen that look on your face the other day, damn near terrified—like I was gonna jump on you any second.”

You bristled with agitation, frustration invited back in full bloom now that your confidence was weakened. “Sorry if I don’t trust you,” you returned with grim sarcasm. “You’re not very… decent, to put it plainly.”

“Decent? Nah, I’m not. Alphas aren’t supposed to be. But that’s why you’re all nervous, right?”

“I don’t…” You shook your head, thoughts tripping over one another. “My quirk makes it difficult,” you admitted, and bit your tongue shortly afterwards.

”Your quirk?”

You swore it was his pheromones making you talk, clouding your judgment and wringing admissions from you. “Alphas and omegas dealing with ruts or heats… it compromises their quirks sometimes, I’m sure you know. Makes them uncontrollable and disorderly. I don’t want that to happen to me. Heats are bad enough on their own. Actually getting rutted through one…” You shrugged, vulnerable to be sharing your fears. “I don’t know. I heard it can go wrong. It would be too much.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “Afraid you’re gonna get too horny and flip out or something?”

Heat primed your cheeks in a blush. “No. I mean… In a way. But, thats not what I really meant–”

“So you just run away whenever you’re in heat? ‘Cause you don’t know how to handle it? That’s sad. Bet you wouldn’t be such a stuck up mess if you just let someone rut you through it, at least once. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Forget suppressants. Not just that,” he snickered, and smirked slyly, “it’s awfully unfair of you to be such a prude when you’ve got a bunch of alphas around."

You shivered, not simply noticing, but feeling his eyes pore over you. “They’re not interested.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but omegas are made for us to fuck and breed.”

“No,” you said, almost indignantly, “they aren’t.” To be reduced to something so primitive and incidental put anger in your veins. It was a sore, but inevitable topic you were unfortunate to suffer so often.

“Yeah. They are. Don’t know how that hand-creep hasn’t tried to jump your bones yet. I sure as shit would have, by now.”

Then, considering his words, he made a curious frown. “Unless you hide to keep away from that guy.” As he thought of these depraved illustrations in his head, put pieces of his own mused puzzle together, the grim smile returned. “Yeah. I can see that. Putting your own sanity on the line because you don’t wanna provoke your boss. You’d rather scurry off than deal with that guy. You really are scared of alphas, huh?”

“No,” you spat. “Tomura is…“ God, you hated this, hated how his smell was driving you crazy, making you pliant. “Tomura doesn’t need distractions. He’s not very… well-equipped to handle these sort of things.”

You wouldn’t mention how the visual of Tomura’s hands gripping you with alpha-driven need, unwittingly cursing your skin with his quirk, obliging your flesh to break away under his clutches and slowly split you open was a terror that kept you awake some nights.

“I stay out of the way for both our sakes,” you said, shaking the fearsome thoughts away. “Everything works out fine the way it is. We want it this way. We know how to focus on our mission and that only."

He shrugged, unconvinced. “Sure, gotta keep the peace or whatever. Don’t wanna turn the League into a rut fest. Puttin’ the greater good over their alpha needs, over what’s in their pants."

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

He snickered to see it. “Commendable of them and all that. But…” He pushed from the wall he’d leaned against and came towards you. You inched away, heart beating fast at the sudden approach. “I’m a little more radical about this stuff, I guess you could say. I think you’d be much more useful if you weren’t so pent up.”

When he crouched down in front of you, you backed into the wall that you sat against, but there was no room for escape. He wasn’t smiling now, only perusing you with expressionless intensity. You tried to suppress a shiver when his eyes rolled down your body.

“Never really been all that concerned with this sort of stuff, not gonna lie. I’ll rut when I need to. Otherwise shit starts getting complicated and I can’t think straight.” He shrugged. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my body ain’t all that suited for frantic ruts. I try to take it easy, if possible. But… I always thought it was a little dumb that we’re engineered to think with what’s between our legs, most of the time.”

And so saying, his warm had slid between your partially opened thighs, which shivered at his touch and clamped together quickly to deny him.

But he wasn’t deterred, and shoved against the resistance, slipping the invading hand under your skirt.

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t. 

Maybe not yet. 

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars.  Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated. 

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn. 

-

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

-

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

-

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager. 

-

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

-

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day. 

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

-

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh. 

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

-

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming. 

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.