#those are just words but they stay with you forever

[asxgard]

I absolutely loved your In the Wreckage, but I can’t help but wonder what your thoughts about roles being switched and it were Robby instead of Jack. Logically, I know they’re different people who’d be in the same situation, but I wonder what his reaction would be. (Like I’m thinking they hooked up a couple times after PittFest, and Robby completely dismisses her after he starts to catch feelings.)

This doesn’t have to be a fic (unless you want to do one…), but I’d love to just catch your thoughts on the subject.

Thank you!! So in the wreckage actually inspired a short multi I’m planning for Robby! Currently planning on calling it casual, based on my current vague outline lol.

My thoughts are:

A Fresh Start | one shot

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!nurse!reader

[ Masterlist ]

Note: I intended for this to be a quick drabble lol whoops

Word Count: 1.3k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content.

Warnings: afab!reader, ex-situationship, implied age gap, foul language, hurt/comfort, mild references to smut, unplanned/surprise pregnancy, not telling robby about said pregnancy (reader being in the wrong oof), single mom!reader, hospital settings, medical inaccuracies, mild injury to a friend, angst with a happy ending, fluff

not beta read

You had not intended to show up in the ER of your previous employer, but there you sat in the waiting room while your friend was escorted into the back. Beth had tripped and taken a nasty fall while you two were out to lunch, ripping a gash open on her arm.

Your toddler fussed in your lap, having been dropped off by your babysitter who had been unable to stay home with him. You thought about leaving briefly, if it hadn’t been for the fact that you had used your friend's car to get you both to the Pitt. You resigned yourself to wait a bit longer.

McKay’s friendly face greeted you when she called for the family or friends of Beth’s. You stood to greet her with a small smile. You hushed your son while he gurgled, grasping onto the necklace that hung low on your neck.

“Hi, Cassie, how are you?”

She smiled warmly, “I’ve been okay. It’s been forever! I didn’t know you had a son.”

Your eyes moved to your son and you smiled, “Relatively new thing, he’s about to be ten months old.”

“Well, congrats.”

Beth sat on the edge of her bed, hand stitched up. She was waiting for discharge paperwork.

Your luck seemed to sour as Robby walked by, catching sight of you and stopping short. You had left quite some time ago, crushed under the pressure of a situationship that didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Robby had buried his feelings in the warmth of you and you had tried to believe it was enough.

His eyes settled on the child in your lap, then back to you. Shame flushed through your system.

You had never told Robby you had gotten pregnant after you had fled. Part of you was hurt that it never really worked out, ashamed you hadn’t been more careful, and overall panicked when the test results had come back positive. After Pittfest, Robby seemed in no place to truly care for himself, let alone a baby.

So you kept it to yourself.

One glance at his son, and it was like he knew. Those brown eyes could only be his.

You set your son onto the gurney next to your friend, whispering a quick, “Gotta go to the bathroom!” before rushing to meet Robby in the hall. You held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

“Please tell me that’s not—that you didn’t—“

“Robby, let me explain.”

His wide eyes met yours, mixed with a terrible panic and a painful, reserved sadness. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty room a few paces from where Beth’s had been.

“Is he mine?”

You swallowed, “Yes.”

His face scrunched up like you had slapped him.

“Robby, I was leaving this job anyways. You were—fuck—you were bad. I couldn’t throw a baby into that mix with you.” You said in a whisper, then almost as an excuse, “It wasn’t like we were serious.”

He winced, “Don’t you think that was my decision to make?”

You clenched your teeth and tried to swallow your tears.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Guilt stewed in your stomach, and your face scrunched up as you began to cry.

“I—I don’t know.” You were able to get out. “I kept putting it off…and then the longer I did, the harder it became.”

He stepped away from you, running a hand down his face, blinking away his own tears. He took a few deep breaths before looking back at you.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.” You told him, taking a hesitant step forward. “I didn’t really think about how my decision might make you feel, and I’m really sorry. I clearly made the wrong choice.”

“What’s his name?”

“Matthew.”

“Matthew.” He repeated, like he was testing it on his tongue. “I—I—”

“Do you want to come by after your shift? Meet him properly?”

“Yes, please.”

—

Robby’s anger came in bursts, flared whenever you referenced something from before he had known, like he was always ready to accuse you of the time he lost out on. You could hardly blame him, though you still felt like your choice to leave him had merit.

When you learned he was now in therapy, your own doubts began to quiet. Perhaps he would be able to do it and not run away, or be emotionally distant from your son.

“I can’t really change the past, Robby. I would if I could. I fucked up, I know that.” You said, trying not to yell.

Matthew was sitting in the other room, on his playmat, completely unaware of the tension that sat between his parents. You needed to keep it that way.

“I can’t ever get that time back.” He said, tone hard.

You frowned, “I know that.”

Silence echoed between you, stiff and uncertain. Guilt clawed up your throat.

“Maybe he could stay with you this weekend.” You offered lightly, hoping you might bridge the gap.

There was no official arrangement between you as Robby steadily got to know his son, not wanting to force anything, or rush a bond. However, Robby began paying for the daycare without asking, and turned his guest room into a bedroom fit to Matthew’s needs.

He blinked at you while he processed your words, “Really?”

You nodded, though tears burned the back of your eyes. “He needs to get used to this place being his home, too.”

Robby was stepping forward to hug you before you even registered that he had stepped toward you. Despite the fact that he could be a very physical lover, he rarely was physically affectionate with you outside of the bedroom back when you had been sleeping together before Matthew had been born.

So the arms wrapped around you spoke volumes of his gratitude.

—

It was roughly half a year later that Michael had completely softened, and told you he forgave you. You had been lingering more often at drop offs, and Michael found any reason to stop by your apartment. It felt like something was beginning to spark at a fire that had grown cold.

Though, in his wandering gazes and lingering touches, you realized the embers had always been there. They had never gone anywhere, just simply slipped into hibernation.

It felt easier to fluster around him, skin growing hot while your heart raced. Or how an overwhelming warm feeling will fill your chest at the sight of Michael with his son, playing or reading to him, quietly always there whenever he needed him. You blinked away tears.

“I was thinking I could take Matty to the zoo,” Michael said one night when you had come to pick him up.

“Oh? Okay.” You said, deliberating it, “What day were you thinking? I don’t mind giving you this Saturday—”

“I was actually hoping we might go together?”

“Together?” You stared at him. “As in like…”

“Like a family.” He said, like he was skirting around something else.

“I’d like that.” was out of your mouth before you even thought about it.

He smiled at you, wide and warm.

Michael had picked Matty out of the stroller not long after you had gotten to Pittsburgh Zoo & Aquarium. Matty was eagerly pointing at the elephants, grinning ear-to-ear, an expression that matched his father’s face. It warmed your heart.

You stepped into pace with Michael, looking at the animals with mild interest, more focused on engaging with your son, pointing and clapping with him.

For the first time, the quiet felt comfortable. Michael’s hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers.

Your breath caught and you looked over at him.

“This is what I want.” He told you, squeezing your hand. “This is how I want to move forward.”

An easy smile overtook your features, “Together?”

“As a family.”

It was a fresh start and you weren’t going to waste it.

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Robby taglist: @cherriready @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama @hagarsays @mayabbot @anakingreys @happyfox43 @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @girl-obsessed-with-things @laurenkate79 @woodxtock @rosie-posie08 @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @diasnohibng

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69

All content taglist: @nixandtonic

[imsandra]

The new beginning

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)

Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.

Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.

Word Count: 2,198

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.

This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.

I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.

Happy reading!

Master list

The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.

He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.

But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.

“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.

The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.

Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.

“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”

Please. Please. Please.

There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.

He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.

Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.

The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.

“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.

“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.

“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”

She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.

“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.

Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.

“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.

The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.

Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.

“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.

She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.

A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”

She looked up at him, surprised.

“The first ones?”

“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”

She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.

“Why now?”

Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.

“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”

His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.

“Dad…” her voice trembled.

He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.

“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”

The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.

“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”

Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.

“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”

She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.

Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.

The ceremony had already ended. 

The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.

Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.

“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”

Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.

“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”

Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”

“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”

Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.

“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”

Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.

“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.

Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”

Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.

“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”

“You knew since then?”

“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”

Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.

“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”

Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.

“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”

Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.

“Now it’s time to let her fly.”

 Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.

“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”

Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.

“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”

Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.

“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”

“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”

They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:

“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”

Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.

And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.

Because their children were the future.

And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.

*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.

A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.

[chimkin-samich]

its kinda a stupid question, but i rlly wanted to know how tf you guys come up w such good dialogue for the comics u do :o i guess a better way to word it is whats the whole process like when making the comics? do you just go with the flow when writing & drawing or do u guys write the dialogue out before?

another question is how r u two doing? ive noticed its been quite a bit since the last art post…NO PRESSURE OFC just wondering:3

RAAAA HI HI WERE STILL ALIVE 😭

Ok question first then explain what’s been goin on for us Irl Skdkf

Our comic process is a bit… messy let’s call it lol. Typically how it goes is we get an idea on what to do wether it be angst fluff or anything, the idea can come from a meme, something that happened to us, reading something or even just a random lightbulb moment, from there we bounce it off each other to see how it could possible go and if the other has perhaps other ideas on how to build on it

After we have a solid idea on it we basically live roleplay, we set the scene and one of us starts it. The roleplay isn’t exactly what we’re going for (mainly cuz it ends up a lil goofy or really really bad) but it gives feral the base she needs on how to direct the comic, sometimes I’ll even make a write out a quick and short snippet to help her build the scene as well. Both RP and the snippet are very useful tho just depends how we’re feeling (it’s usually a RP tho cuz it also gives feral some expressions to work with as I play the boys)

It’s a messy way of doing it cuz it’s very chaotic but it helps a ton for feral to have a starting base before diving into the comic, both by giving her some dialogue to modify, expression to work with and a general direction on the story

As for the part if we’re ok.. I don’t wanna jinx it again so I’ll say that we’re alive 😭 (putting a read more cuz post is getting long)

We planned on coming back to makin art in Feb/March but things did not go as planned, in Dec our water pump broke so we had to move out for a week until that got fixed and then in late Jan our roof started leaking and we had to pack up and move out entirely in March cuz we found out the entire roof is atrocious and needs to be torn out and redone 😭

We thought we would be back home by now but they were barely able to start working on it last week cuz legal issues got in the way that took forever to resolve so we might not be back home until June, we have a place to stay tho so dw bout that! Just a lot of things have been happening and we’re really hoping we can start making art again soon, we do have comms that we need to finish first but once those are finished we plan on hopping back in cuz we really miss making content

So fingers crossed we can actually get back into it, in the mean time we do have a lot of wips, both drawing’s and writings cuz we would start em in this period and then have to stop due to issues, so there’s not only a lot in the works but also even more ideas in our head of stuff too do ✨

[ang3lmoans]

Angel’s chest ached in a way he didn’t quite expect it to. Not from pain, not from anger—but from the raw, unfiltered vulnerability Garam had just handed him. There was no mask, no seduction, no performance. Just *him*. All of him—afraid, uncertain, clinging tightly to the idea that he could lose what they had just because someone else might try and take it. And Angel knew that fear. God, *he knew it*—how it lived under the skin like a second pulse, whispering that nothing good ever stays, that love was conditional, that one misstep and the people you care about would find better. He stayed quiet for a moment after Garam finished speaking, letting it all settle. Letting Garam *see* that he wasn’t running from those words, or pulling away from the messiness of it. No, he was still here and he wasn’t going anywhere. Then, Angel gently touched Garam’s face, thumbs brushing lightly against the flushed heat of his cheeks. His eyes flicked toward the tear he hadn’t missed, even if Garam had wiped it away quickly, as if ashamed to let it show. “You don’t have to apologize for being scared,” Angel said, low and steady. “That kind of honesty? That takes more strength than anything else. You’re not weak for feeling this way. And you’re not *too much*.” He leaned in and kissed Garam’s forehead, slow and deliberate, letting his lips linger there like he could press reassurance into his skin. He loved this side of Garam, taking accountability and being honest with him. This was all Angel ever wanted from any partner or whatever limbo they were in right now. “I hear you. About Darius. About all of it.” His voice remained soft, but there was a firm edge of conviction behind it now. “You’re not asking too much. I’ll talk to him. Set boundaries. If you’re uncomfortable with us being alone, then that’s something I respect.” He pulled back just enough to meet Garam’s gaze again, brushing a hand gently through his hair like it calmed *him* as much as it soothed Garam. “And no one,” Angel continued, voice tight with emotion, “*no one* gets to tell me you’re not good enough for me. Not Darius, not anyone. Because I know you. I know your heart. And yeah, you’ve got some fears—but so do I. And I *still choose you.*” His hand lowered to clasp Garam’s again, fingers curling around his with warm certainty. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. That’s not changing because someone else wishes it could.” There was a pause—just long enough for the words to sink in—before Angel offered the smallest, most tender smile.“And when we do have our first time,” he added, lips curving with a hint of that usual charm, “it’s gonna be somewhere that *feels* like ours. Not rushed, not messy. Just us. All of us.”Then, a beat. The three-letter words hung on his tongue but he swallowed them away, not yet. Not like this. “Let’s quickly pick out some basics for you and buy that sweater. Then run over to grab the camera and go home. I’m going to cook us a great dinner and we can work together to get your room together. As much as I would love for you to stay in my room forever you will want space eventually” Angel grinned pecking the man’s cheek as he unlatched the dressing room door. As pent-up as he was Angel couldn’t wait to get home where he could poke at Garam a little to have a repeat of the morning. But for now they still had things to do.

garam eyes closed when their foreheads met, exhaling the weight of his emotions away. as much as he wanted something to happen in that dressing room, garam also didn't want their first time having penetrative sex to happen in a dressing room. he wanted it to take place somewhere they could make meaningful, where they didn't have to rush or keep quiet so they weren't caught. he wanted that first time to take place somewhere private and safe, where they could react to each other's every movement, every word, without any kind of fear or sense of urgency. as desperately as he did want angel, the desire to give that first time importance was simply too strong. that didn't quite the voice in his head and his heart and, frankly, his dick telling him to give himself to angel with every word of kindness, flattery, and reassurance. as the pressure to please seemed to lift away from him, it was quickly replaced by the weight of guilt. he knew the negative effect his insecurities had on angel, he could see how angel was going to blame himself as if something he was doing or had done was the trigger to those feelings. but, even though angel was involved with garam's insecurities, he wasn't the cause of them. it was entirely his own problem to bare. garam was acted fast; his hands lifting to cradle both of angel's cheeks, using his gentle grasp to make angel look at him again. "you're not doing anything wrong, you're doing everything right, actually. it isn't you, it's me—fuck, that sounds so cliché but it's true," he let his hands fall down to momentarily rest on angel's before dropping down to his sides, "i am scared and i am insecure, that's my issue... not yours. i am scared that someone will take you from me," not even in a romantic or physical sense, he was afraid of losing his position in angel's life. he was afraid of their friendship, their connection diminishing because somebody else entered his life. "and i really want to tell you not to stop seeing darius, not because i don't trust you but because i don't trust him. he has feelings for you and you are still available so of course he'll think you're fair game but you're not. you are spoken for... you're mine," he claimed, feeling his eyes suddenly start to sting and well up. he didn't want to start crying but the guilt he felt was so strong, taking out his insecurities on angel when the root of a majority of his issues had nothing to do with the other. it was other people making him feel on edge, like he was an inch away from losing everything he loved. "and i'm yours," he continued, a single tear beginning to roll down his cheek but he quickly wiped it away, "even if you don't initiate something, he might and that's what i'm afraid of. he obviously doesn't like me, what if he still tries convincing you that i'm not good enough for you or that you could do better," both things garam already thought, "i know i can't stop you from seeing him, you work together and you are friends and i'm not that controlling. but maybe it's okay to ask that you two aren't alone together, at least not alone for very long? it'd make me more comfortable knowing he wouldn't have a chance to hit on you." because, in his mind, as it's something he'd typically follow himself, not openly flirting in a setting deemed too public or inappropriate, darius wouldn't make a pass at angel if other people were around. "if that's not okay, i understand." his voice neared a whisper, as if he didn't want even angel to hear.

[rwshfordgirl]

Cruel Summer

"what doesn't kill me makes me want your more."

where she is dating her friend's cousin.

pairing kenan yildiz x reader!

a/n: i hope you like it :) those pictures of kenan are MY FAVORITES ONE

𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬✮

Your friend's birthday party marked the beginning of another summer season. Everything was extremely planned by you and her, from the location to the guest list.

Alex managed to borrow her aunt's house on the Italian island of Sardinia for five days, five days with her other friends and with a very specific cousin of hers.

When you met Alex at a birthday party when you were 6, she wasn't alone. In fact, she was almost crying, upset with her cousins who were teasing her for falling off the toy. And it was there that your eyes first saw a six year old Kenan Yildiz, laughing at his cousin as if there was no tomorrow.

He always made you nervous, always, every time you met it was the same thing: your head would lower and your cheeks would quickly turn red, while Kenan tried to hide the fact that he found it too cute.

Every summer since the day you met Alex had Yildiz's presence, it was the only time of year you saw him and it was what made summer your favorite time of year.

But things really got more interesting last summer. On the Bosphorus River in the Turkish capital, Alex celebrated her 18th birthday with a boat ride. A fun night that ended with Kenan laughing at a bad joke you told and his arms wrapped around your waist.

The way he held you, the way he threw his head back laughing at you and the way he pulled you into his chest when he saw you shivering in the cold as the icy night wind hit the boat. You would definitely live this night forever and so would Kenan.

Since then, Kenan has only been seen by you during the summer, if he had to catch a plane to come visit you whenever he had some free time, he would definitely go without thinking twice. And on top of that, the video calls at the end of the day were constant.

But nobody knows. Nobody knows why on a holiday in the middle of last month, you decided to visit the city of Turin, alone. "You should meet Kenan there, he lives there. I'll talk to him." Alex said to you when you told her the news.

You tried to hide your smile, as if that wasn't exactly the reason you were going to Turin, "Seriously? Talk to him then."

But back in Sardinia, Kenan was already in the city with his other cousins while you were in the room getting ready to welcome them.

You weren't fast enough, as you finished combing your hair, strong arms wrapped around your waist and soft lips touched your neck. You felt Kenan smiling against your neck, "you smell so good."

You turned to face him, smiling like an idiot, "thanks babe! i was missing you." It was your turn to wrap your arms around Kenan's waist.

"I missed you too, like more than I thought I would." he rested his chin on your head.

"But you'll have to stay away from me, in public." Her words made him pout.

"I don't know if I'll make it, but I'll be close, very close. I'll be watching you."

"Like a maniac."

He laughed at this, "I'll watch you so the real manics don't come near you."

You nodded, amused by his words, "I see it then. Then I must say that I will also be keeping an eye on you as well."

He chuckled at you, loosening his hold on you just to look at you, "I won't mind."

"It's going to be hard to control myself from kissing you every time you do that.", you kissed him, "don't smile at me or anyone else."

He put his hand on his face, laughing at you, "that's good to know, I'll be smiling at you all summer."

"You're going to torture me and force me to kiss you in front of everyone."

"I hope that happens then."

[loquatsloquatsloquats]

Blooms & a Riddle

A (probably) Fanfiction featuring my OC Loquat Wyvern Cookie & @pinkiepig 's OC Rhubarb Cookie. A doodle or three has been exchanged with them, so I decided to write a lil something that could showcase them possibly meeting! (I will do my best to characterize them both right!)

Word Count: 1974

The clutter & chatter of travelers was ambient within it's home.

The Rosaceae Ravines, the biome filled with the highest reaches of all cliffs, forming vast tropical oasis from the mist of the clouds themselves. The lower regions carved with twisting rivers and shaped with dry rocks & stones. Everywhere and anywhere inbetween is symbolized with tunnels and caves and ledges everywhere in view, and decorated with enormous waterfalls that cascade into the streams below. And sporadically, one can spot campsites bustling with life of all kinds within these nooks & crannies.

The variety yet simplicity of the vast lands combined with its innate respites left many throughout the ages to spark deals, bargains, or agreements with it's overseer. The Copper Wyvern.

A trickster a heart yet a caring host nonetheless, Loquat Wyvern offers simple deals in exchange for travelers being able to make pit-stops and find sanctuary in her lands. All they have to do is solve a riddle or two, and they'll be granted a spot to rest. So long as they do not disturb any other's taking repose, they are allowed to stay for, reasonably, as long as they need or please.

There is only one rule for this wondrous place.

Do not stay forever.

The Copper Wyvern chooses purposefully to not have a designated nest in her domain; she traverses her lands just as the usual adventurers do and takes rest wherever she'd like. The idea of being so territorial and limiting her grasp to a certain range of one place was never appealing. This cycle of moving through the same places is how it treats it's land, her only request is that those that stay follow the same rules.

And so, from dragons that tower over villages, to the smallest of cake hounds, to an abundance of Cookies; travelers of all shapes, sizes, & flavors found refuge within her borders, provided they get past her tricks & follow the rules.

And thus set the status quo for a day like any other, Loquat Wyvern Cookie perched atop a cliff within her lands, viewing over some nearby residents below. A campsite to be exact, just below the upper tropics. This is when she spotted another Cookie nearby the shelters, gazing upon them just like herself was. Off reds, deep greens, & a pure white palette made up their form while a wide plant-like cap of some kind adorned their head, obscuring their face from an upper-eye view.

She did not remember welcoming this one in with this particular bunch of campers.

Which meant… they were new.

With a grin creeping onto her smile, she spread her wing membranes and glided down to meet them, already having a conversation in mind. She saw no desire to be flashy, simply landing next to them. “It appears you've found yourself here uninvited, dear guest.”

She truely hadn't meant to startle them, but the stem from atop their cap Instinctively curling around her arm, it's thorns piercing into her dough & wings, should have been an expected reaction. However, despite the action, their face remained one of indifferent bafflement rather than fear. Clear red eyes staring not at her, but through. A living oxymoron…

Her curiosity had been piqued!

“Who…?” They began, speaking in a tone little-known to her. Not in quiet, not so loud. Not enraged, yet not in shroud. After a moment or so, they continued speaking, “Who are you?”

Loquat Wyvern gave a polite bow to the best of her abilities with a wing restrained, quick yet courteous. “The Copper Wyvern, overseer of these ravines. And yourself; whom has found their way to my turf?”

Whisperings didn't escape her hearing, the smallest of voices, just barely illegible to her. Words, yet words not for her. Originating from the one she currently met the gaze of… and was currently in a grapple of. “Rhubarb Cookie.” They spoke, cheerful yet methodical… routinely. “I had no knowledge this place was… claimed… already.” They fidgeted with the sleeve of their blouse as they spoke, a sign of anxiety for usual folk.

Very well, she'll tone it down then. “And yet it is! And has been for many ‘a millennia!” she started, though her tone grew just the slightest bit softer. She had so much she wanted to learn about this little enigma, it had no desire to scare them away. “I, Loquat Wyvern Cookie, welcome you to the Rosaceae Ravines! A respite for travelers of all kinds… provided they can get through the ‘gates’.”

Rhubarb Cookie's head tilted to one side, the thorned stem that had embedded itself in it's arm had shifted. It chose to hide it's wince of discomfort behind the same smile it gave all travelers. “Gates?”

“Metaphorical gates.” She clarified. “It's an easy process for most, I've no doubt you'll succeed, if you'll partake.” Loquat Wyvern Cookie elaborated, then reassured. Rhubarb had stopped fidgeting with their sleeve by this point, so that's a plus!

“An entry trial?” Rhubarb Cookie asked to clarify, which the wyvern responded to with a nod… the whispers began again as they spoke, “I see, I understand. What is this trial you enforce around here?”

“I shall answer in a moment then, but first… just pick a number! One, two, or three?” She said it so joyously, it seems the other had no hesitation in replying.

“Um, three?” was the hesitant response.

“Three it is then.”

“For… what?”

“Simple!” She'd announce, flaring her free-arm and having her draping wing flow with it. “Riddles; three, by your own choice! Rhymes; a few, spoken by my voice! One of me and one of you, and one for us both written in clues!”

This Rhubarb Cookie… seemed continuously baffled by everything it spoke. T’was only natural, many didn't understand it's oddities & quirks, Loquat Wyvern preferred it that way anyways. “Now,” she began, extending her other hand, as her usual one was still restrained by the thorned stem from on their hat. “Do you accept my arrangement? Or shall I see you back to my borders?”

Finally, the thorned stem released her, and the Cookie infront of her seemed to show pity for the jam they'd drawn. Whether or not the pity could be guessed as genuine, Loquat Wyvern would have to keep up conversation to inquire more of them… learn what makes this Rhubarb Cookie tick. Still; they extended their hand as well, taking hers in answer. “I agree.”

Loquat Wyvern couldn't hide the way it's eyes gleamed in excitement, it could never help it! The greatest joys in life for it always came in testing the wits of those around, it couldn't wait to begin!

Oh- Right- She didn't have to!

“Then, I shall begin. An easy one, I'm sure.” She made sure to reaffirm. “I crack the strongest armor, I decay the greatest sword, I'll tear down every nail & screw, yet never reach your bone. What am I?” Riddle One has begun!

Rhubarb Cookie took time to consider what was said. Cracking armor, decaying swords… nails and screws? What did all those have in common? What did they share that could damage them but not bones?

Aha! “The answer… is Rust?”

“Correct! Rust affects almost all forms of metallic candy, but most bones are not made of such, but instead, Calcine Sugar!” Loquat Wyvern Cookie reaffirmed, clapping their hands to congratulate. This praise seemed to perk up the other substantially, the stem atop their cap curling and it's thorns seeming to retreat slightly.

“Well done with riddle one!” She congratulated once more, yet another rhyme poking through her voice. “Let us see if that path of strong logic will carry you through the next ones!”

“I am green with envy yet yearn only for the sky. Take what I adore from me; I'll shrivel up & die. What am I?” Riddle Two, next in que!

“Oh!” Rhubarb Cookie perked, “a Plant! Like meeee!”

“Correct!”

The other was doing so well! Honestly, it didn't originally take them for such a logician… it supposed it has underestimated this odd little plant fellow. However, there was no room to wallow in a miscalculation; The Copper Wyvern was simply having too much fun!!

Last but not least is Riddle Three… the worst of them, it's sure to be…

“Walking, talking, pacing back; down this road, escape, I lack. Endless thoughts trapped in my mind; am I alone, am I to die? What am I?”

Silence befell the two of them upon the reveal of the final riddle, the utter vagueness seeming to bamboozle the Cookie the riddle was presented to. In their bafflement, the wyvern couldn't help but hear the mumblings once more. They were clearly coming from this Cookie here… but no more words were truly spoken from them.

The silence and lackthereof quickly became deafening…

She'd met her fair share of plant folk throughout the millennium. Some being flowering dragons, others floral-based Cookies, and some being miscellaneous animals with structures made of bark & vines. She had thought she'd seen it all. But to have such a… normal Cookie appear so… loose? Was loose the right word? They- they just seemed to go along with things… every moment or word a setup routine told forth by a force unknown.

Just what was this Cookie? Or was this a Cookie at all?

“The answer-”

“?”

“-is Anxiety.”

…

A smile creeped it's way back to her expression. Her previous internal monologue halting Instantaneously in exchange for the moment. “Correct!” She revealed, ecstatic in tone. “Correct, correct, and correct! Congratulations Rhubarb Cookie! You've solved my riddles. I told you I had hopes you'd be able to do it!”

The Cookie infront of her maintained their loose smile & stare, though their smile did get exchanged with a small grin upon the initial reveal of their success. “Wonderful!” They'd begin, adjusting their hat. “Now; what does it mean to have gotten through your challenge?”

“Ah-” of course! She didn't fully explain the rules! “-simply put, just as any other traveler here, you are granted access to any unclaimed nook or cranny you can find during your stay or travel-through here! So long as you do not stay forever, and do not get in the way of any adjacent others, you can stay for, reasonably, as long as you'd like! Feel free to use the natural landscape for food, and don't be afraid to come find me if something is awry or to ask any questions you may have.”

“It is seen!” They spoke… probably meaning ‘I see’? They seem to understand regardless! “Tell me, what's the most… Life-Full place in your home? I want a place where seedlings can grow biiig and strooong.”

“Oh? A gardener are you?” She inquired, though continued without an answer, “just about any of the upper-tropics could be seen as the most full of life! Though, if you want a good suggestion. There's a little divet just this cliff-road's way away from here! Rainwater collects there well, and there aren't many large competing plants. I'd suggest you check there if you're planning a garden.”

“Perfect! That I shall then.” Rhubarb Cookie gave a bow. “Thank you for the home away from home, may my garden flourish by your land's givings.” They spoke in polite thanks.

And, while unlike most Draconics would, Loquat Wyvern Cookie bowed back. “Absolutely, I wish for you nothing but the best! Enjoy your stay and further travels!”

And, with a wave and a quick hover-spell, a civil ending is how their conversation concluded. Another resident for it's vast landscape, another nook soon to be bustling with life. Just as it likes, just as it prefers.

Now, it just had to find those flora-folk books she'd been lent so long ago by him. Apparently it had some more research to do about Plant Cookies…

.

.

.

May our will flourish by your blessing, great wyvern…

[pardonmydelays]

when i was 18 years old i was dating a boy who was treating me like a princess. he was absolutely perfect. before i graduated high school he told me he can't wait for me to lose touch with all of my friends so he can have all of me just for himself.

when i was 20 years old i was dating a boy i had a huge crush on back when we were teenagers. he didn't really care about my interests, only about his own. whenever i was feeling down he was telling me that i should be on meds cause i'm fucking crazy.

when i was 21 years old i was dating an older guy. he was smart, intelligent, we had a lot in common. he was trying to change a lot about me tho. he told me once that he will never be able to love me as much as i love him.

when i was 24 years old i was dating a boy i thought i was gonna marry. our relationship was super messy, but i loved him so much. he had huge problems with alcohol. during one of our last fights he told me i should kill myself.

i'm 28 years old and i have trust issues. i'm scared to talk to people, i'm scared to open up to someone cause i already know how it's going to end. and i'm only saying this now because i'm tired of people telling me that i should find myself a boyfriend.

[comflexxed]

june stared at his reflection in the mirror above the old dresser, the one he’d spent the past week sharing with his fiancé in his childhood bedroom, where the ceiling still bore the faint sticker residue of glow-in-the-dark stars. a jacket he'd planned to try on lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, folded neatly by hands that hadn’t been steady since the moment he closed the bakery door behind him.

the scent of sugar and flour still clung to his coat.

it had taken every ounce of self-control not to double back.

he hadn't told his fiancé where he’d gone. he wasn’t hiding it, but there were no words that could accurately describe what that encounter had done to him. there were some stories that didn’t belong to anyone but the people who lived them. and some wounds that didn’t scar over just because you stopped talking about them.

sitting down at the edge of the bed, june rubbed a hand over his face and let out a quiet breath. he hadn’t meant to say what he said. hadn’t meant to let it hang in the air like a thread he wanted hans to pull. but seeing him again, hearing his voice, the way he still filled a room even when he was trying not to — it undid something. it undid him.

he should’ve said goodbye better all those years ago. should’ve answered the messages. should’ve at least explained. but back then, he was so full of panic and pain that he folded in on himself, buried under the weight of what they could’ve had. he’d thought walking away quietly was the kindest thing he could do, not realizing silence could be crueler than any fight they’d ever had.

now, he was older. wiser. more stable. and still, he didn’t know how to hold this kind of grief.

he’d seen that look in hans’ eyes. the way they still flickered with everything left unsaid, even after all this time. it haunted him. he loved the life he was building now but a part of him still carried hans with him, buried in the quiet parts of his heart. he didn’t think that ever really went away.

he could still remember what it felt like to sit on that tiny couch in hans’ first apartment, laughing over something dumb on tv, hans’ head resting on his shoulder. he could remember how his hands always smelled faintly like vanilla, how he used to hum under his breath when he was focused, how june had once thought, this is what forever feels like.

but forever didn’t happen. and june had done the thing he swore he never would—he hurt the one person who made him believe in love in the first place.

june closed his eyes and pressed his palms together, fingers shaking.

the ring on his finger caught the light when he stood, and it only made him feel heavier.

he loved his fiancé. he chose this life. but loving someone now didn’t erase what came before. didn’t erase the boy he once was — the one who belonged to hans.

he walked to the window, opened it just a little, let the chill air bite at his skin.

maybe he’d stay away. maybe he wouldn’t go back to the bakery, not again. maybe the kindest thing now was to really give hans the peace he should’ve had years ago.

that meeting kept replaying in hans’ mind despite all efforts to shake it off. he went back into his kitchen and let his hands go through the familiar tasks of baking, even washing the piled up dishes after he was done. and then, he did it all over again. trays upon trays of pastries, piles upon piles of dishes. his hands started to complain, the thin layer of skin covering his fingers dry and calloused from all the kneading and the washing.

but still, june’s memory lingered. his last words before the door closed kept hans on edge. 

why didn’t he just say he will have a good life? why did he have to point out how hans had meant it—as an ending? 

why, after all these years, couldn’t he give hans that mercy? 

knowing that he had intentions to come back—for the cookies—unraveled hans in ways he did not think were even possible after so much time had passed. it made walking the familiar steps in his kitchen, in his bakery, feel like a minefield, when it should have been something safe. he felt like everyone had dropped thousands of eggs all over the floor and now he had to walk on the shells to get to his home. which was just upstairs, not taking him far from this sacred-turned-unholy ground. 

a head poked into the kitchen, calling his name, pulling hans back from his self-imposed living nightmare. “yes?” he rushed out the word, apologetic about the clear lack of focus. 

“all the pastries are sold out, should i close for the day?” the woman manning the counter asked politely, apologetic too in her intrusion of hans’ space. he would often come out and tell her to lock up before she had to seek him out like this. 

hans wiped his hands off the hand towel that was ever-present on his left shoulder and nodded with much more enthusiasm than the moment called for. “yes, yes, please do that.” he looked at the time. half-past five. they usually closed earlier, but hans’ baking spree had given them more to sell today. 

he usually made sure everything was in proper order before he retreated upstairs, but today, he didn’t feel like stepping through those doors again. june was still there, smiling, waiting, his still-familiar scent winning over the comforting smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. today, hans needed to hide. 

his hands shook as he fished for his keys, his foot impatiently tapping on the floor as he tried to open his door. and when the lock finally clicked, he let out an exhale he had been waiting all day to release. safe. here, in this apartment, there was no june to haunt him. his safe space might have gotten smaller, but at least he still had this. 

he fell to the couch unceremoniously, letting the poor furniture feel the full weight of the day that clung to hans. why did june have to find his bakery? 

“have a good life, june.”

his own words haunted him, echoing in his head like the only thought there, bouncing off walls and invading cavities, leaving no space to think clearly. did he have a good life? was leaving hans the right call that set him off to a good path? 

he didn’t know anything about june, and he didn’t want to. oh, but god he wanted to.

his hand itched to fish out his phone, and despite himself, he did. it felt unfamiliar, typing a name that used to be the first person he called or texted whenever something happened. his fingers had to re-learn how to travel from one letter to the next, and finally, there it was. a small picture of june on his profile, revealing to hans the life he’s had that hans was not a part of. 

there were pastries, of course. a few of them from time to time, and some locations hans vaguely remembered talking about but hadn’t visited himself. a photo of a bus on a busy street. a street sign that was supposed to be funny. june, in clothes hans didn’t help him pick, in streets they didn’t walk together. eating food hans didn’t get to taste. there, on hans’ phone screen, were all the what-ifs that he told himself to stop thinking of.

and then—

he nearly dropped his phone. he was convinced his heart had stopped. that time had stopped. there was no faint birdsong from a distance, no sound of car horns at rush hour, no buzz of the heater. there, among the more recent posts, was the photo of a ring. on a finger hans didn’t know. on a finger that wasn’t hans’. his own finger--bare of any rings, because they got in the way of baking--traced over the ring and how beautiful it looked. how happy it looked. how it gloated.

see this ring? this isn’t yours. 

june didn’t love you enough to propose. 

the tears came then, and once they started, hans didn’t know how to stop. 

he was back to that night, tapping on his phone screen repeatedly, questioning why his messages weren’t going through. the symbol haunted him, unsent messages apologizing, begging, pleading, as he sat on the floor, the light from outside disappearing just like the light from within him. “please,” he heard himself saying over and over again. but even that came unanswered too. 

and now, june has come back to haunt him, to poison the air that hans used to breathe. to make waking up and sleeping hard again, his nightmares bleeding into his reality. hans sobbed quietly, curled into a ball, no “please” coming out of his lips this time. there was nothing more to beg for. 

he’s getting married. he really did have a good life. good for you, june, hans thought this time. good for you. 

[aipurjopa]

nvm he’s growing on me

[cementcornfield]

Some of Tee and Ja'Marr's thoughts on the Tee Situation

Tee said to me 'right now I get to play with one of the, if not the, best quarterbacks in the game, I get to play with one of, if not the, best wide receivers in the game, that opens up so much more for me.' And then he said 'this offense is designed for so many different players to be spotlighted, the way that I am used in this offense so plays to my strengths.' And then he said to me, 'can you guarantee I can have that exact situation anywhere else?'

....

So do I think he's taking a home discount? No. But I do think that he is very very smart, he sees the whole picture out there...

....

It's very easy to compare this situation to what Ja'Marr had at LSU with Joe Burrow and Justin Jefferson. And Ja'Marr has said Tee is very different than Justin Jefferson. That every single minute with Justin Jefferson was a competition. That everything was who makes the more dynamic catch, who has more catches in practice, who runs faster? Everything was that way. Ja'Marr had to speak up and demand the ball a lot at LSU, because so was Justin. Ja'Marr told me that he doesn't have to do that in Cincinnati because Tee, and this is a quote from Ja'Marr, is one of the most unselfish humans you'll ever meet.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[the-elder-polls]

now. i have work in a few hours and a veil to guard after that. farewell

[frameconfessions]

I hope the protoframes remain relevant even after this story arc for the Drifter concludes, but I also recognize how complicated things would get with how many characters they could keep trying to make stay relevant, leading to a Konoha 13 Naruto type situation where we have too many relevant characters from Umbra & Ordis all the way to Kaya Velasco.

.

[dbphantom]

I am so fucking glad this actually returned what I was trying to say while writing tags about Law's kickass outfits because the unhelpful instamash mix I disrespectfully call a brain was supplementing all the wrong words and I didn't feel like finding that one writing thesaurus site on mobile

[tonycries]

Bed Chem - T.F.

Synopsis. No, you’ve never gone through a heat. No, your big bad neighbor, Toji Fushiguro, hasn’t had a rút in years. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive when all that changes with your…bed chem.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Toji, OMÉGAVERSE AU, slight enemies-to-Iovers, rúts, breéding, MARATHONS, cúmplay, búlges, Toji is BIG, heats, face-sítting, 69, spítting, praise, oraI (f + m), knottíng, he goes FÉRAL, DÚMBIFICATION, one use of “ma’am”, fated mates, matíng bites, p talking, breaking furniture, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.9k (whoops)

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“-oh! And, darling, my friend recently showed me this new serum that could-”

“-help with my…condition, huh?” You’re finishing off, teeth grit almost as hard as your fingers were around your glaring phone. “Mom- I’ve already told you that I want nothing to do with those sketchy inducers. I’d rather stay dormant like this forever.”

There’s slight static crackling from the other end of the line, “I’m just so worried for you, especially with that massive alpha-”

“Who? Wait- Toji?” You’re braving out a chuckle, gut clenching at the memory of your utterly hot new neighbor and his muscles upon drool-worthy muscles. “Y’know, the doctor has already determined that it’s impossible for me to go into my first heat now.”

And despite it all, you can’t help but drink in a deep inhale the moment you step foot into your cozy local convenience store. Only for your senses to be met with…nope. Nothing, again.

“Besides-” Fingers hovering over that angry red End button, you’re speed-walking your way as inconspicuously as possible towards the Heats and Ruts aisle. “-Toji doesn’t have ruts.”

Well… 

Nobody ever said that you weren’t a hypocrite - but, hey, you were desperate at this point. 

Even if you had to consider another one of your mom’s attempts to artificially induce your inner omega into finally putting in the work.

With your goodbyes hastily muttered, and your phone stowed deeply away into one of your pockets, you find yourself slowing down near that one particular section of the Omega shelves. Gulping at the somewhat-shady inducer portion that you found yourself familiar with ever since you’d reached late puberty without a single heat. 

It was ridiculous, but it wasn’t impossible. 

Mandatory school bloodwork revealed you to be an omega - yet, you felt like anything but that. Anything but what you supposedly were as you watched more and more of your fellow omega classmates miss out on a week or two of school to deal with their heats. 

Consoling you with pitying glances and half-hearted complaints that alpha scents were annoying anyway. But you didn’t care if the pheromones were obnoxious, and the cycles even more so.

Your months just came and went by without any of it.

You’d visited many fertility and growth doctors over the years, and not a single one had been able to pinpoint exactly what was blocking you from accessing the pheromones and biology that everyone else could. That you wanted to. 

Hell, even betas were said to have at least a faint ability to smell wafting clouds of musky perfumes.

Most professionals claimed that everything was as it should be, that you might just be dormant - a late-bloomer, if you will. A very, very late bloomer. 

A majority presented at the start of puberty, or perhaps - in only very rare, alleged cases you found on barren forums - after meeting their fated mate. Two souls bound to fill in each other’s missing pieces. 

The theory was something you let yourself indulge in guilty sips, the sort of fantasy that flashed through your mind right before you wound up with yet another heartbreak.

But after graduating college without a mere half-sign of anything to do with your second gender, you vehemently called bullshit on that one. 

Some suggested that you might merely be a beta in disguise. It was almost comforting to think that it might have all been one big mix-up, yet, every medical test after medical test you’d done always came out the same. 

An omega.

“Damn second genders.” You’re grumbling, traitorously curious fingerpads skimming over the sterile boxes of medicines with official-sounding names. You’d tried out a few with the least amount of side-effects before, and it always ended up being a waste of your time (and your paycheck.) “Damn- damn inducers-”

CLACK!

In your reveried haste a few unstable boxes of products found themselves plonking onto the ground. Wincing at the withering glare of the manager unhelpfully peeking in from a few aisles down, you urgently dropped to your knees to put them back-

“Damn, what did those scented lotions do to you? Remind me not to get on your bad side, doll.” 

You see him before you hear him - strong, engulfing hands motioning into your field of vision to dexterously grab at the mess you’d created. 

And then once you hear him it isn’t any better, because you could recognize that richly rumbling baritone anywhere. 

“Wha-” Cutting your own self off with a strangled mess of a yelp the moment your furrowed gaze looks with viridescent eyes. “-oh.”

Oh? Oh?

Toji Fushiguro quirks up one brow in a way that is unfairly attractive, sultry scar engraved onto one side of his sleazy grin tilting up ever-so-slightly. And was that- a dimple? “Heh- n’ the pretty girl says oh. Cat got your tongue, sugar?”

It’s only then that you’re realizing that this was the first time you’d ever been so…close with the man himself. 

Usually settling for grumbling conversations from your doorstep and incoherent text conversations from his toddling, cherub-faced son stealing Toji’s phone.

So ah, there was one thing you’d forgotten to mention to your mother. Sure, you might have let it slip that Toji was…ruggedly handsome - all Herculean physique, a glossy black Harley Davidson bike, and long legs that carried him well over six feet - but you’d always omitted one thing. 

He was just so cocky.

And you can already feel your blood curdling strangely in your veins, scoffing out a heated puff of breath. “Nah, more like the alpha in the Omega section is.” Darting your eyes anywhere but at the strain of Toji’s sinful compression shirt sneaking winking at you underneath his leather jacket, practically painted onto the ridges of his washboard abs. “Thinkin’ of a secondary gender change, Toji?”

“Ah, yeah yeah-” He’s rolling those hooded eyes, leaning in so pointedly close that you can practically feel his slow, seeping look up and down. “-got tired of havin’ cute lil’ omegas falling all over f’me.”

You scramble to finally stand, “You wish.”

The bout of husky snickers that escape from him make your thighs squeeze together, and Toji’s promptly following you to place back all those fallen lotions. “‘Course I do. That n’ the brat is out on a trip with his lil’ pink-haired friend, m’just killing time.” Tilting his head at you, “You? Thinking of going for alpha? Or…” Crossing his big, beefy forearms, and he must know the effect that has on you and your greedily ogling eyes. “-an alph-”

“Just this.” You’re cutting him off before Toji could fray at your sanity even more, holding up that heat-inducing serum your mother had mentioned. 

But, oh.

Oh.

That wasn’t the expression you’d expected on the handsome face of Toji Fushiguro. Maybe something more smug, perhaps even amused as he realized your little predicament- but never this.

Eyes stony, sharp jaw clenching with a jumpy little tick. And Toji’s fingers are so thick when they pluck the box cleanly off your hands, the split-second graze of his burning skin making you feel almost feverish.

“This trash? Yer takin-” He’s glaring down at the serum as if it had offended him personally five times over. Something about the utter look of discontent makes your chest burn, “-this trash?”

You find yourself defensive, “N-no. At least, not yet. What about it-”

“Because s’gonna ruin your inner workings that’s what.” And for all the world, you never expected to be getting lectured by Toji Fushiguro of all people on your health - though, one look at his sculptured body should have told you all you need to know about just how seriously he takes it. “Don’t even know why s’on the market. S’not good for ya, mama.”

And you knew that. Probably. But ah, the things you do when you’re at your ropes end. “And? I’ve never had a single heat my whole life, y’know?”

“And I should know, bratty doll.” Toji murmurs, throwing that oh-so-famed miracle serum haphazardly back onto the shelf and flipping off the manager who glares at him. “Haven’t had a single rut in years, not since Megumi’s- anyways, all these inducers here are full of shit.”

“Oh.”

Wrapping a staggering arm around your waist to guide you, your body practically burns. Weird. “Tch- silly girl.”

Two peas in a pod.

Before you know it, you’re being dragged by a disgruntled Toji away from the treacherous clutches of the Heats and Ruts aisle and past the cashier - who only smiles as you so-very-subtly sneak in a long whiff of the air. 

Again. Nothing. 

With the stinging pang of disappointment, you sigh as you step outside. Only for Toji to rub your back with a hum, “S’alright. You’ll be alright, sugar- you’re my strong girl, huh?” Eyes widening at just how…sweet Toji was being. That is, before he opens his mouth once more- “Besides. Who needs inducers when you’ve got such a big strong alpha-”

“Pass.”

“Don’ act like ya don’t like it, little miss neighbor. I see how ya look at me.”

“I- I don’t-” You did. And you do. And you will - in fact, you were looking at him that way right now as Toji swings over one thick thigh to straddle the padded leather seat of his prized Harley Davidson. Looking like he’d just stepped out from your wettest of dreams and it makes you almost simper out a sigh.

He’s jutting his head back at the tempting extra space behind him, and you could already hear the suggestion oozing into his next words. “Mhm— whatever ya say, girl. Now stop just standing there looking pretty n’ get over here, I’m a busy man.”

It’s almost as if on auto-pilot when you do.

Toji Fushiguro’s motorbike was big, and just as intimidating as he was. And it’s only on shaky legs that you manage to press yourself only mere precarious inches away from his hulking form. “Heh, ‘er name’s Harley. Fitting for a bike, huh?”

“If- if you crash I’ll kill you.” You’re puffing out a few thickly muffled words through the sleek matching black helmet he was deftly putting on you. Wondering just what led you to be…here of all places. 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll help ya hide the body.”

“M’serious- no funny business.”

“Uh huh, anything else, mistress?”

“And I’ve seen you run red lights so no-”

SMACK!

Your heart stutters with a loud ba-dump! as Toji’s rounded, calloused fingertips leave a good smack against the side of your thigh to get your yammering mouth to halt. And he’s letting off a titter at the shocked expression of your face even through the tinted helmet before turning to rest his hands on the handlebars. 

“Hold on tight.”

It’s all the warning you get - and, honestly speaking, you don’t think any sort of warning could’ve prepared you for the way that Toji rides. 

Something about it is so attractive. 

Maybe it was the creaking stretch of leather as his biceps strained against it from underneath, maybe the way your ears ring with his words even louder than the growl of the bike, maybe it was the way that you were holding him.

Arms stretching to connect over Toji’s broad front, your skin mushes against the curvaceous mounds of his toned pecs. Firm and warm. So, so warm that you can’t help the way that your eager self was mindlessly inching ever-so-slightly closer-

“Phew.” Startling - but not moving away - at the low whistle that Toji blows out, eyes still trained weaving through traffic. “Dangerous game yer playin’, omega.”

Sidling even closer, the defined angles of his back muscles only flexed at the innocent smooch of your tits. “What?”

“S’fucking close.” And not just to him, but to his scent glands. So sensitive and prickling the shaggy black hair at the base of Toji’s neck just from your heated proximity. Huh, strange. “S’a damn good thing I ah- don’t get my ruts, huh?”

And, suddenly, you’re despising what these helmets hide from you. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t get my heats, huh?”

The exact same words playing over and over in your minds once Toji’s braking to a stop at his designated spot right outside your apartment building. And part of you almost feels upset that this little ride with him was over. 

Letting him do as he pleases when he’s seating around gruffly to take off both your helmets himself, you couldn’t help but notice that something about the air seemed…thick. Like it had just been dipped in candy and right now you were gladly suffocating in the sugary sweetness. 

Your eyes catch onto a lock of deep black that’d curled behind Toji’s ear - and you knew right then and there that something was wrong, you knew that you weren’t thinking. That you weren’t listening to your common sense. 

Because before you can stop yourself - before you can even register it - you’re swiping away the stray tuft, sensory curves of your fingertips just catching onto the skin above where Toji’s smooth glands should be.

“Fuh-fuck-” He’s hissing, willowy eyes curtaining behind a scrunch of his lids, and it’s almost as if on instinct that his thick digits fly upwards to trap your hands right there. “Hold on- just a little, mama-” Pressing down even tighter, and the way that Toji’s letting his head tumble back makes your mouth lacquer with a syrupy wave of drool. “-s-so you said you haven’t had a heat in years-”

“Ever.”

“-ever, huh?” Dewy whirlpools of his eyes examine you, and suddenly you feel like running away. But Toji only grins, “Say, why don’tcha scent me?”

Your maw falls slack with a hot shudder, and you’re not sure if it’s in shock or if it’s from how much you wanted it. To have an alpha offering himself on a silver platter - let alone Toji. Letting out an eloquent, “Wh-what?”

You’re being reeled in even closer with a tug of Toji’s strengthened hands, plummeting onto his chest with a cushioned oof–! He only repeats, breathing bated like he didn’t want to know anything himself until you did. “Scent me, pretty girl.”

“I-I don’t know why-” Your fingers unlatch, and you swear it makes Toji’s chest rumble with a low whimper. Steadily planting them onto the collar of his overpriced jacket to pull. “But if this is your idea of a- oh.”

Shit.

Shit.

And something…is different. There. 

Was- was this how he smelled? This heady concoction of jasmine and something so undeniably…Toji? 

Something snaking and boiling bubbles up throughout your body, you all but slump yourself into his eagerly awaiting arms. You can’t even register what you’re doing, nuzzling into his tender throat. Can’t even recognize the look on your face when you’re gasping in greedy heavals of what was obviously his scent.

That you could smell.

With a gasp, you’re pulling away, eyes diverting to him and- oh, it was much the same for him.

There was no other explanation for the lecherous look of devastation on Toji’s pretty features right about now. 

Scarred lips parting in awe, weighty lids drooping down until those heart-eyes him were almost invisible, face veiled with a delicate flush. His palms find their way to rest on the dip of your hips and stay there.

You’re croaking out, “T-Toji-”

It happens so fast - too fast. 

It’s as if your mere voice was enough to send a zillion volts of electricity shattering down Toji’s spine, jolting him with something darkly visceral. Enough to snap up one tannish forearm and bite-

“Ngh-” Toji’s pearly canines coat with a slight tinge of red, eyes shuttering open - and you notice that they seem slightly less glassy now. Slightly. “-fuck ya really are dangerous, doll. Was almost g’na have me take you right here right now.” The slight dip of his strawberry-pink tongue as Toji pulls away makes you gulp, “N’ I don’ wanna spend my first rut in years here.”

.

.

.

Toji couldn’t think - he couldn’t breathe. And if he was any lesser man he’d have fallen to his knees with only one whiff of your candyland smell. 

Addictive. 

Fingers clutched tightly underneath the plush of your thighs to carry you all the way in through your cozy apartment. Never faltering. Never slowing. You could almost roll your eyes at the blatant reminder of strength if you didn’t feel so feverish.

Toji’s steely eyes light up at the way your trembly fingers clutch the silken hem of your skirt, lips wobbling with every spilling word. “T-Tooooji, feels so hot.”

“S’that so?” He’s swiping the regal button of his nose down where the sides of your neck were swollen, breathing in the hot, sugary waves emanating from your skin. “Feel anything else?”

And the slight hitch of your breath is all that he needs as an answer, well, that and the goopy wetness that was formulating between your thighs. Shit, he never thinks he’s kicked down a door off its hinges harder than he has to your poor bedroom door. 

Draping you gently onto the plethora of silken sheets, you whine at the slight recoiling bounce.

Barely even given the time to gather your wits before Toji’s sliding his jacket and his t-shirt teasingly off, all thick, muscled limbs stalking towards you like a predator that’d just cornered his favorite prey. And you eye his rippling back, his rumbling tone speaking over your mattress’ creaks. 

“Ya better know…” he’s hurling out, mouth just only centimeters away from yours. Hot. “-m’not here ta fuckin’ play around jus’ cause you’re in heat, sugar.”

Ah, that’s what it was - heat. You were in heat. Fuck. 

Your fingers leave neatly indented semi-circles on his flesh when Toji’s grasping your throat tightly, padded ends of his fingers pressurizing right onto the treasure trove of your scent glands. “If I fuck you now, you will be mine. You and…” Before one largely crowned kneecap of his sidles into the snug cove of your pussymound. Weighing down- “...her.”

It’s the only thing you could do to bat your lashes up at him in a way that makes Toji’s achy cockhead twitch. “I want you…wan’ you to touch me, Toji–”

And that’s all that he ever wanted. 

Roughened hands shove you meanly back onto the cushy bed, and Toji’s sliding his palms languidly down, down, down every curve and dip on your body. As if he was trying to worship you with them. 

“Oh? Only wan’ me to touch ya?” Toji’s humming, Adam’s apple bobbing with wads of salivation once his fingers slink down to curl at your bra strap and snap! “Not to take this off or-” You gasp, the sting almost making you forget those minute rips! echoing from where he was grasping your t-shirt. “-this? Guess I can do whatever I please then, right?”

Before you can say a word of shrill protest, those useless pieces of fabric are tattered off. Ending up not-so-nicely in a pile right beside your bed with Toji’s intact clothes. 

“H-hey!” You whine, “Those were ah- limited edition-”

“Ah, I’ll buy ya five more of those.” Toji rolls his eyes when your lips part open, “What? Thought I wasn’t filthy rich or somethin’- Oh, girl, you are about to be spoiled. But first, a kiss-” Innocent and sweet onto your lips, “-here. And…”

Toji huffs out a few cocky sniggers at his own little joke, because of course he does. Leaving you off with a gentle swat! to the perfect curve of your hip and your heartbeat throbbing at your drooling cunt. 

He’s shuffling onto his very knees at the bottom of the bed, tutting at how unfairly far you were from his greedy mouth - well, that had to be fixed. You almost get whiplash from how swiftly you’re being dragged to let your jittery legs be thrown right near his tightly coiled deltoids. “-here.”

Head bobbing in an urgent yes yes yes when Toji rids you of your flimsy skirt and slowly slides down your drenched panties. All bunched up and leaving a glimmering coating of slick down your skin.

Stuffing it into his pants pocket, “This is a lil’ reward f’me.”

“Filthy.”

“Oh, well helloooo there, pretty girl.” He’s drawling, eyes flashing with such darkness at the heavenly mess of a banquet all laid out in front of him. “You’re so in heat- so fuckin’ in heat. See? Who needs fuckin’ inducers when ya have me.”

Toji’s pupils were swallowing up his verdant orbs. Needy. And he’s unashamed in taking a long deep inhale of your saturated pheromones. His favorite perfume now. “Lookin’ real happy ta see me. Happy s’your hah- first heat, hm?”

You’re squirming, fingers tangling into his silken tresses in an attempt to try and shove his face closer. “Are- are you talking to-”

“Hush now, doll.” Toji leaves a wet pap! of his fingers thwacking against the treacly slit of your pussy, watery with your flooding slick and greedy. “Lemme talk to ‘er- lemme talk this cute cunt through her first heat. M’honored, y’know?”

And honored just doesn’t begin to cover it.

Toji was devoted.

It’s like your wafting clouds of heady scent made his mind dizzy, until the only thing he could do was to let his slutty tongue loll out and sliiide at the splatters of translucent sap soiling your inner thighs.

“Oh- fuck-” You’re squirming your hips in a wild buck upwards, only to have him pin you down with the heavy-handed weight of his forearm. “-feels so- so…”

“Yeah? Good? Ya always get this wet or s’that jus’ f’me?”

Truly, you could only jumble out a few nonsensical syllables. Because Toji didn’t want to waste a single ounce of your precious juices, slurring out a few open-mouthed kisses across every inch of skin you’d exposed to him. And the moment that rosy peak of his tongue touches upon your teary pussy- oh.

He thinks he might just be the one about to cry.

Because you didn’t just smell like his favorite candied lollipops - you tasted like it, too. And, fuck, he can’t help but go in for seconds. Thirds.  

Guffawing out breathily with disbelief, he’s drawling his tongue to mush open the gummy folds of your pussy. Swirling out a lazy flick of his sopping muscle to stretch out the tight ring of your wide agape-

“Just look at ‘er all hngh- overflowing.” You watch with bated breath when Toji’s prying your quivering entrance with a bullying few inches of a singular thick index - only one, but Toji was so incredibly towering with his size and strength that you find yourself keening. Coral pink lips puckering up to give your hooded clit a squelching kiss. “Heh…like a damn waterpark, aren’t ya?”

Filthy words only making you filthier. Making your omega inside blink up and yearn.

Your gushing wads of juices bawling from between your legs in torrent. And you yelp at the lecherous sounds that echo out - the waterlogged squelches and slurring that only makes Toji grin. Wild and sly. “Mhm, real talkative.”

Arching your back into the perfect slutty curvature off of the prespired sheets, “Tojiii- s-stop teasing n’ give me- ngh- more.”

More. 

And just then you feel him fuck his softened digits into you slow and thorough. Curling up to swipe down the mushy soft spots of your walls - Toji was burning up. But you were burning up even more, and shit.

Shit. shit shit shit-

You don’t know if it’s because of your heat, or if it’s because Toji is just that good with that rude mouth of his - but you’re cumming faster than the thought could even flash across your melty mind. “Wait- m’close ngh- Toji- I’m gonna-”

It’s like a tidal wave of bliss peaked up further and further with every slashing motion of Toji’s gyrating make out with your cunt. You’re so very extra sensitive right now and he makes use of it - bumping up that rounded angle of his nose to press your fleshy clit just right. 

It’s so intoxicating. So heady that he finds himself pushing back those sweat-dampened bangs of his to lower down loooong breath. And then finally another passionate French kiss onto your bulging pussy. 

“Fuck- I-” Pearlescent droplets of tears welling up at the scrunched corners of your eyes. “M’so- sensitive–”

God, his wolfish canines were sharp nipping teasingly into the fat pucker of your pussy lips. Parting your slick-gleaming mound to squeeze his tongue into your tight hole, the stretch is incredible. It’s staggering. And Toji can only sully your insides with a gentle brush of his lengthy tongue along your gooey insides before pulling back with a huff. 

And then again- to let out a throat groan when your elastic walls push with resistance. And again. And again and again-

“Now m’offended.” Toji’s letting out a surly swat! where you’re trickling down viscous fluids of sickly sweet slick that coat his mountainous knuckles, his wrist, the raised trailways of his veins. “Wanted more but tha’s all ya can take- tch.” 

Oh, by the time your white-hot tingles of pleasure were bating you should’ve known better than to think that Toji Fushiguro was done manhandling you with his superhuman strength to every whim and want of his. 

That he would give you even a second of a warning before hovering over your frame and flipping you into such a pliable position over him.

His back hitting the puff of the pillows, strands of hair making a dark halo underneath him. Toji looks so fucking handsome that you can feel your pussymound slobber a few streaky puddles of slick onto his heaving abs. 

Hands positioned on either side of his leering head, you mewl. “Give me a warning first, you animal-”

“Hell yeah.” He’s snarking up at you, but there’s not a single speck of heat behind his words other than towards you. Towards what he wanted to do to you. Planting a heavy smack! on your ass, “Tha’s right you’ve got me in a rut after years like a fuckin’- animal. Heh, so jus’ lemme throw my pretty omega ‘round a lil’, I can feel how wet that gets ya.”

“N-noo- it doesn’t-” But that was a fucking lie and both of you knew it, knew it from the syrupy pool of sap laminating his heated skin. 

“See? She’s on my side. Doesn’t talk back.” The curvaceous pads of his fingers twiddle and tease your plumpened clit, so dirtily that it only makes your dripping cunt drool even further. Leaving a gauzy cobweb of treacly slick with every swat! swat! swat! he gifts. “Has anyone ever had her seated on a mouth, sugar? Made you feel good that way?”

Your head shakes before the thought has even contorted itself into an understandable shape. “No- no one has- ngh- before.”

It’s a confession, it’s a line plucked right from Toji’s filthiest thoughts on those late, late nights.

And he couldn’t look happier when molding you to the exact shape and angle that he wants you in. Turning you right around to bare your sodden pussy from the back, your unbalanced thighs curling on either side of his ravenous head. 

Not even a single command, yet your head is swimming with honey at just how much you were like putty underneath his hands. 

Your head cranes over the plane of your shoulder to give him a pretty plea. “Toji?”

“Mhmmm, Toji’s right here, pretty girl.” He’s awestruck - stunned with the gumdropping droplets of sap plopping down onto his tongue and sliding right down his throat. Making him groan, “Filthy fuckin’ pussy, can feel ya ngh- dripping allll down my tongue.”

And he’s drunk. He’s babbling, he’s heaving and heaving to inch his intoxicated maw to connect with your saturatedly glossy pussy lips. “Lower her down so I can give her lil’ smooch.”

Your hands nimble down along the tufted black happy trail brushing from between his navel and going down, down, down. “L-like this?”

“Nah, more. Can’t believe all those pathetic boys never had ya hah- sitting on their faces. Spread those pretty legs n’ lemme show you-” You can’t even begin to think about merely hovering your entire deadweight above him, because Toji was ready. And he was hauling you to rest every single mass of your flesh onto him, “-how a real man fucks.”

Thickly viscous helpings of your generous slick flood his mouth the second that Toji’s lengthy tongue is burrowing between your folds and driving you mad. 

Sliding all the way up and down up and down up and down with a welcoming flit at your buttoned clit and then pumping you overwhelmingly full. Fucking you with the overheated scratch of his tastebuds exactly the way that he wanted to with his achy cock right now.

“Can still taste m’self on ya- haaah- good.”

Toji wasn’t holding back.

“O-oh my god, m’so sensitive.” Your moans come out mangled. Wanton. Spilling from between your parted lips right along with rivulets upon rivulets of waterfalling saliva every single time that Toji’s bumping the curvaceous search of his tongue into your earliest sweet spots. “Slow down, Toji–”

Your fists maze through the velveteen blankets and clench, hips jerking up-

“Nuh uh, doll, no runnin’ away from your Toji.” Sliding up one slick-glazed hand to snake the small of your back, he’s using his face to nudge your legs even further. Drowning your sobbing cunt with a fat wad of spittle, Toji’s licking down the stray speckles that gravitate back onto his own mouth. So dirty that it makes him delirious, nose crinkling, bottom lip bitten. “Yeahhh, crack ‘em open even wider. She’s eager.”

Eager you were.

Jostling your hips against his mouth until through your clouded mind you were wondering whether he would suffocate. But little did you know that this might just be Toji’s ideal death - buried right there between your pretty legs. 

You’re being bounced so hard that you can feel your legs aching with the strain, hollowing out shuddered breaths and whines of Toji, Toji—

“Say my name.” He’s huffing, easing in a thick few inches of his fat digits that fill up the snug geysering orifices. Each n’ every single volume of space that’s inside you, and those puckered pecks leave screeching squelches that have you halfway through sobbing. “Say my name- say my name heh, g-gonna have a looot of ngh- noise complaints after this.”

Even though he’s saying this, he doesn’t do anything to deter you. Why the hell would he?

Pumping you full of one finger, two, three until your gummy ring of muscle was being molded to the plump circumference of his lengths. Multi-tasking. 

All the way until he was slathering the patterned bumps of his knuckles with a sticky second skin of slick, Toji curls those rounded tips down the tenderized walls of your channel and drags. Feeling for that one special target of his-

“G’na make ya feel s-so good.” He’s whispering, breathing like it was the truest of true words. And shit- he hasn’t felt like this for ages now - years. Secondary gender growling from his inner depths with guttural need to give you more more more. “Gonna find- ah- found it.”

And Toji knows he found it with the way you squeal. Wafting scent intensifying, lashes fluttering with a clinging swash of tears once he jerks a good push into that bulging bullseye that makes you see stars.

“Right there- Toji– right there-”

“S’fucking loud.” He’s rolling his eyes for what seems like the nth time today, but it was impossible not to when you were just so cute being teased like this. Bubbling out a few sloshes of slick and spit when your fingers dip right underneath his trousers and push. “O-oh? Trynna keep yer mouth full, huh? Let’s see ya try then.”

Your low lip juts out into a pathetic sort of pout that Toji finds adorable, that only makes his clothed cock pool out a darkening patch of precum onto his boxers. 

“Wan’ taste you- make you feel good.” Your words are warbly and broken, tone hitching upwards with every tiny slip of his sticky underwear downwards. It’s like you were teasing him - teasing yourself. And your inner omega was oh-so-very impatient. “Wanna make you feel…oh.”

“Heh, cat really got yer tongue now, huh?”

And you couldn’t even retort, you couldn’t even snap back as you usually might have because you were stunned. 

Maw falling slack at the generous girth that was throbbing fatly between your fingers, honestly from this lecherous angle it seemed like a struggle to even close your fist around him. Because Toji was…big - and even saying that was an understatement. 

Just about nine throbbing inches with hefty breeder balls that your bleary gaze could make out, flushed a candied pink on the rounded curve of his mushroom tip. Graduating down, down, down into a pale baby rose - you didn’t know whether it was the heat talking but right now he just looked like your favorite sort of lolly.

“L-look so pretty, Toji.” You babble away, words getting breathier and breathier as sloppy as his kisses get. Your puckered lips are almost stinging with just how thorough he was. “Wanna taste…”

Oh, and you didn’t realize that one perk of having your secondary gender presented was realizing the shift in his pheromones. 

You didn’t know how you knew but there was a tinge of utter adoration in Toji’s jasmine-infused scent as you plop down a wet mass of slippery saliva right onto his strawberry divot. Lathering the split, plummy globe before planting your mouth down and kissing.

Your mushy tastebuds looping little motions over the creamy butter-topped cap of his splurging cock, he tastes so heady. Rich pre melting on your tongue and it was so musky, so…him. 

“Oh, girl-” he’s breathing out through a rasping sigh. Darkened brows marrying together at just how warm your mouth was sheathing around his painfully hard shaft, “That’s it- thaaaat’s it. Suck on my cock like a good girl, mama—”

“Ngh-” Your jaw aches, throat jumping at the squeezing sensation of his lustrously crowned tip tunneling right down. Craning your head so that he could count every bounce, “S-sho bwigh.”

You were so heavenly, alternating to leave shy little snogs over and under his sensitive slit - and Toji was one competitive man. It was in his nature, of course. 

Tumbling your hips to rest even greater onto his mouth, he didn’t need to breathe. Didn’t even want to even dream of it when he had the circles of his fingerpads latched on your jiggling ass so hard it was sure to leave battered bruises for the next week and weeks and weeks.

“Damn, she’s good, huh?” Toji’s whispering at the sopping wet purse of your lips, “But I can’t have myself  c-cum before- fuuuck- my girl.” 

Your eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your heavy lids with ever swaying lash of his mean mouth. And it didn’t matter just how vulgarly you were sliding your starved tongue down the heated ridges and veins of his swollen cock - Toji was doing ten times worse. 

Every deepening inch you swallowed up into your cavernous mouth only made him plug you fuller. Every stray swipe of the thick, ivory beads of his pre made Toji douse out lumping masses of saliva lewdly. And every twitch that made you sure Toji was right on course to tumbling over the edge was urging him to push you headfirst into your orgasm with a final teasing pinch at your clit. 

And your mouth opens with an accusing gasp - did he just…pinch your clit? But all thoughts of his audacity and the fact that Toji was chuckling out right after washed away as soon as your high was flooding you.

Moans being muffled around his generously fat shaft, the only thing that you get is just a single wispy wire of condensed cum being lacquered onto your tongue. Just one. Right before Toji’s free hand splays out onto your scalp and pulls you free with a wet pwah!

“Tha’s it-” You hear him mutter in the blinding cloud of your orgasm, it felt so blissful that some darkly primal part of you said that you were never letting him go after this. He was yours. Your mate. “-louder. Louder– good fuckin’ girl cummin’ all over my mouth.”

Toji didn’t know how the hell was multitasking with your pussy kindly spraying him with a sheeny covering of all your remnant juices. But for you? Anything.

Anything anything anything and he was whispering the very same mantra into the quavering, slick-flooded entrance of yours. Letting your hips drag sloppy grinds to ride out every edge of your peak - to use him in a way that no other alpha might just.

Toji’s strokes up into your tightly-clasped fist were deep, and he doesn’t stop even when your eyesight stops tinging with black. Not even when your back arches with oversensitivity, waterfalls of tears producing from your ducts. Sobbing, “I-I’m- ngh- Toooji- I can’t anymore-”

“Sure, ya can–” Looking you right into your thoroughly half-lidded eyes as he nods along with the slurring symphony that he was orchestrating from between your overworked legs. “-she says ya- ngh- can.”

Toji wanted to taste you again. Needed it.

“But-” And, yet, he finds his ear perking up at the wobbly sound of your voice, blushing bludgeoning tip creaming out another thick mess of white. “-but I wan’ my next- ah- next orgasm around your cock, Toji–” 

And, well, how could he say no to that?

Toji thinks he could never say no to anything you ask ever again with the way you were positioned precariously on top of him and still begging. 

He’s saying goodbye to your pretty pussy with a slow peck as a lover would. Breathing in heavily - oh, how he loved the smell of you. “M’gonna see ya later, m’kay? Don’t miss me too much.” 

And another gifted spank! to your tenderized ass makes you jerk a few inches off of his sugary mouth. Sweet, sweet praises being pecked up the bending arch of your spine when he sits you down all cutely on his lap.

You’re heaving out a huff, scent glands throbbing with a spike of something slightly salty. Jealousy. “M’startin’ ta think you’re playing ngh- favorites.”

“Well, duh.” He’s fluttering his long, bestowed lashes with an eyeroll, barely even flinching before cupping your slobbering pussy with one large palm. Teasing, “I’ve got yeeears ta make up for.”

Years of desperation and need pouring and pouring out when Toji folds you easily onto all fours.

And that’s when you’re getting a thorough striking of exactly three times that Toji’s sappy crownhead jolts upwards with a few gummy kisses hello up and down the crying middle of your pussy lips. Smooching. Gently. Before he’s snuggling right beside your hole-

With you bent over and arched right how he wanted you - oh, he was so enjoying the view. Saturated bursts of cloudy pheromones hitting your feverish body and only making the fountains of translucent slick increase tenfold. 

Shit, you were so wet that Toji has to force himself to let one greedy hand go from its favorite job trapping you underneath him. 

Guiding a few dexterous digits to wrap around the bulkily bloated cylinder of his base, he takes his time slipping and sliding.

“Might wanna hold yer breath, mama, h-heh…” You’re squirming your hips deeper into those pronounced hip bones of his despite the fact that simply breathing won’t help you take on his monstrous size. But you wanted to. You needed to. “Gotta c-count- ngh- eeeevery inch like a good girl now, m’kay?”

And that’s exactly what he made you do. 

“Oh!” Saltily flavored globules of your tears had your lips wetted, blubbering unconsciously when Toji anchors the hills of his palm onto the ends of your spine and pushes. “Shit- Toooji, why the hell are you s-so big-”

“Now that doesn’t sound like a ngh- ‘one’ ta me…”  But of course, who was Toji if it wasn’t for a little bit of teasing. Just enough to get your lips pouting cutely and your gluey walls clinging around him as if afraid he would pull away. Adorable. “Now now, c’mon- don’t tell me the biiig stretch has made ya forget how to ah- count, mama.”

So easy to rile up, to get you shaking your head so fervently that you swear you could feel your melty mind tumbling about like a bobble head. “N-no. I can count.”

“Then, say it w’me-” And oh, you knew that tone. That feral tone of his that would never ever bode well for you or your needily dripping pussy. Toji’s inching his hips back mere sinful inches, drawling out all the while. “-oooone.”

He doesn’t even ease you in.

Hitting your spraying cunt with the full force of his mushroom-topped head pushing past the adhesive-like resistance of your flooding entrance. Pushing and pushing and pushing- “One.”

Toji’s hands are clammy - depraved - when they pry your bouncing ass ever-so-slightly to really take in the sight of your gobbling pussy. Because he had no shame. He had no fucking shyness letting out a proud puff of pheromones that make your boneless knees weak.

“There there.” He’s patting that curve of your hip he loved so much - birthing hips, the thought strikes him. Shocked at just how much deeper that drowns him into his heady rut. “My good omega. Now…two.”

“T-two-” You’re sobbing out.

“Hmmm, nah- no stutterin’.”

Oh?

And, honestly, Toji half-expected your omega in heat to snarl at him a little, to let your hugging channel scoop up a hefty few dollops of milky pre right before he’s reeling the familiar pathway forwards again.

But, oh shit, he didn’t expect for you to bare your teeth like a fucking threat. For one hand of yours to dart behind with surprising accuracy and curl around his shaggy haircut, dragging Toji to pump you full. And it wasn’t just one inch. Not two. Not even three - you were damn near yearningly jackhammered with about halfway down his fuming red shaft before he finally got his cottony brain together. “Two.” 

“Damn, greedy girl–” Toji praises, though it comes out as more of a rasping growl that sends voltaged shivers down your spine. “Comin’ back for more, already? Knew my dick was hah- heat- alright then-” And the bed rings out with a few symphonied creaks when he shuffles his muscular thighs wider. Steadier. “-but ya better still fuckin’ count.”

Four. five. Six.

More and more - seven and eight. 

Up until Toji’s puffy head smudges a wet wipe at the canvas of your cervix. You were so soft there that he obviously has to greet the melty depths of your pussy with a good spurting of ribbony pre, swabbing around those drenched springs with a lazy circle of his hips.

“Eight.” Your jaw spills a surging slew of profanities at the feeling of him spearheading you so open, face pushing into the soft mattress when you perk your hips up and push. Only to gasp at there being- more? “Wait- I want-”

“Down, girl.” Toji’s sweat-shimmered biceps flex when he shoves your too-eager body back. “Gotta get you to at least cum on m’cock again before I give ya my- fuuuuck- knot.” 

And Toji fucks you like he’d going to make you remember.

He knows he’s going to make you remember - it’s why he has that big, dopey smirk smearing wider and wider across his face with every fat thud! into the rubbery bounds of your pussy. You’re taking him like you’re made for it, and that only makes his heart stutter even louder than your protesting wooden bedframe.

“Doll, m’gonna ahh- break this damn bed.” He’s uttering out, never ever sounding prouder of himself than right now. “And you.”

“Cocky.”

“Whatever, girl- talk t’me when ya haven’t gotten- hah-” Managing out through blissful hiccups of his breath, “-heart-eyes after bein’ hngh- fucked dumb by me, ‘kay?”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard that correctly - but luckily for you, Toji Fushiguro is allll about keeping his girl in the loop.

All about prancing his rough hands to entrap your wrists and pull you with barely even a wisp of his true strength. Beaded dewdrops of sweat perspiring up and down the heavily toned muscles of his back like their very own personal rollercoaster.

With you right along for the ride with the way that his rightly angled rotund tip romantically scours and scours for your magical g-spot. Jerking you up in midair to snap his slender hips with a particularly vicious pap!

The sensation of skin-on-skin makes your head dizzy, and your core overpour with another sudden downpour of treacling juices. But what was even blasphemously worse was the way that precious geyser embedded into the treasure trove of your walls were pummelled. 

Over and over.

“There- right there–” you’re sounding out as if you were a broken record. Every resonating moan of yours accompanied hand-in-hand with the loudest splish-splosh of sputtering juices. Secondary gender working overtime now to make Toji cum. To make him give you his knot- “-wan’ you to c-cum right there.”

“Where?” Toji’s deepening his angle to bump a heavy-handed slam pounded into your cervix. “Here?” At your vehement shakes - honestly, he wondered if you even knew he was taunting you at this point. “Then…” Only to give your peaked clit a mushy squeeze, “-here?”

You’re almost crying at this point, bursts of heat fluctuating between your goopy depths and your swollen scent glands. Full and ready. And it’s a sight so pretty that Toji can feel his stomach twisting already. “N-noooo.”

He almost loses it once your shakier, smaller hands take the lead to guide one of his own all across your thighs where he loved. Your cunt, where he loved just a bit more. And to about halfway along your pretty tummy to press- “Wan’ you to f-fill me up riiight here.”

And Toji only growls, “Riiight there, huh?”

Pinpointing his puffed-up divot to smudgeon repeated heavy collisions into the latched wall of your womb. Once. Twice. Before thrashing your permeated walls with hosing flushes of his cum. Of such thick ribbony wads - and it’s so fucking dense that you feel your hips weigh down.

Or perhaps that was because of your own orgasm the- third of the night?

Just about all you can manage out, syllables falling from your lips slower than you’re being hammered through the faintish spurts of your high. “C-umming–”

Before you know it, you have one of his muscular forearms around your throat in headlock, bulging Toji’s rounded biceps hard and possessively at the bumpy area of your glands.

“Cummin’ again?” Toji snarls against your ear, nails clawing at your hip to keep them under his control. “Yeah- yeahhh tha’s right. Milk your dear Toji, t-take this fucking cock. Take my…”

And Toji was about to overstuff your awaiting hole with the fat circular ring that’d swollen around his base, to finally give you his knot the way he’d been dreaming of ever since you waved at him on the day he moved into this fucking building. 

But just one sneaking glance at the ivory lipstain your puffy pussy was wearing, the way the ends of your sopping slit drown with a swamping drip drip drip of his lustrous cum makes Toji go a little…crazy. 

Makes the bulgingly tender crook of your neck look so, so tempting. 

His glassed-over eyes lock downwards, breath hitching at the way he slowly sinks back out and in has your pussymound mewling out such a cute glomp! His second-favorite girl - after you, of course - was speaking back to him. Lathers of splashing cum painting his bulky heft with a ring of frosted seed. 

Oh.

Toji would never get tired of this. How the fuck hadn’t he had a rut in years again?

And he says only one word, “More.”

“M-more?” Your fingers experimentally nudge at the tautly coiled pressure at your stomach and find yourself slobbering - from both drizzling lips. Even with the dredges of pouring cum, you were still so full you felt that you could burst. “Can it even fit?”

Right now he thinks the hazy fog covering his brain would never stop - and he doesn’t want it to. Waves of pheromones wafting off of him in such high concentrations that you find your mouth flooding with saliva all over again.

Cobwebs of it overspilling down onto the veined muscles of his forearm - only increasing in saturation when he tilts your head up in the perfect 90 degree curvature to face his boring gaze. And his mean mouth.

Spitting right onto the tainted bullseye of your tongue, streamy rivers flowing back into your mouth when he firmly nudges it shut. “If yer droolin’ n’ can still t-take ngh– that,” Branding the thorough push of his circled circumference into your cervix like he was branding the swollen indentation there permanently. “-then ya can take allll of haaah- this, okay, mama?”

Shit, was Toji glad that both your concoctions of pheromones kept him still hard. And he’d heard of ruts that lasted a week - two, uncommonly. The longest ever recorded was twenty days and by god was he going to gain the title of world champion.

Even if it meant he had to lift you cleanly off of the now-broken bed, the exact same one that you were only now noticing. Just barely so. 

You’re gasping, fingers digging into Toji’s smooth skin when two arms wrap around your middle and jostle you over a few coiling bedsprings that’d started to stick out from one sagging end of the mattress. Being pushed to bend over in such a complaint position at the end of your cool mahogany desk. 

You’re dipped deep, but his battering rams were impossibly deeper.

And the zig-zagging probe of his veins were massaging you just right, thrusts determined and practiced now that Toji had every scouring inch of your pretty pussy drilled into his mind.

“Th-three’s the ah-” Toji’s chest rumbles with a sensitized shiver once he hikes up a strong leg, caging you with him and his ruthless cock and him. Letting you gape at the documents rustling and flying about, “-charm. Or was it four? Ngh- f-five? Six?”

Just how long did he intend to mess up your insides? 

Though, you really, really aren’t complaining at the way that every merciless dab of Toji’s sharp hips into your fleshy mounds fuck you stupid. Entire body burning up - all the way from his lolling, sweat-stucken head in the crook of your neck, to the splurging torrents of streamy sap coating you.

And then there was that stinging plap! of his tightened knot behind you-

“C-can I have your knot now, Toji—?” 

Shit, his hips stutter their sloppy staccato, did you even know what you were asking for?

You never knew that heats came with such a side of begging, but right now you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Or to complain. Because Toji liked it, earning your pillowy walls with extra thorough hits. 

“Impatient girl.” He’s raising a hand to give two messy spanks on your bulging pussymound, deep snickers hitting your ear in condensed pants at the way it only makes you filthier. “Real diiiirty, too. mmm, wonder if she’d ngh- m-make an even bigger ngh- mess if I…”

And at this point, you were hanging onto every word falling from his kiss-bitten lips. A side-effect of just how good he was fucking you into the digging edges of your clattering desk right now. “What- ngh- what? P-please-”

“Ohhh, know yer m-manners, huh?” Full body wracking at the oodles of slicked sheens frothing down the plump curve of his globed balls and making them clench. Dangerously so. “S-since ya asked so fuckin’ nicely, I’ll let you ngh- know, sugar.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way that Toji moistens his parched mouth with a few sultry licks of his lips as if preparing to share his deepest, darkest secret.

Nothing could have prepared you for the notched up burst of his jasmine perfume that makes your legs resemble weak jelly, and Toji’s support yours until they were hovering almost midair. 

Because he was craning his head down to nip at your scent glands, with a sudden snicker. Crazed. A few octaves higher. Like he doesn’t even realize it’s tumbling out before sighing, “-wonder if she’d make an even bigger mess once I get ya…pregnant, mama.”

And oh you think you’re cumming - hot spurts of bliss tackling you by surprise. Fuck, and if you thought that the last orgasm had taken a lot out of your Toji then you’re sluttily glad to find out that that was not the case.

The complete opposite, in fact.

You’re sure that Toji cums even more this time, sunken divot into the elastic material of your walls welling up with the creamy helpings of his bloated cock. So much seed spilling out of him that you wondered whether this was the rut or just him.

Just his urge to fuck you full until you were pathetically overspiling, until had had you in a hold so tight that you think you could almost feel Toji’s delicious crownhead fuck his cum into you until it reached your lungs. 

For what feels like rounds upon rounds until your saliva had amassed in a forevermore pool underneath you. You didn’t know what time it was. How long it had been- 

Only feeling the firm glissade of Toji’s washboard abs against your back. The way his thighs shivered and jerked at every one of your gripping clenches. And despite being so fucked, you were already drooling at the heavenly cushy push and pull of his Adonis-like pecs heaving in throaty gasps. 

So unfairly sexy that it made your primal instincts preen. Mate.

And, apparently, Toji was thinking much the same. 

“F-fuuuck-” He’s letting his mouth nuzzle the side of your throat with all the tenderness that he wasn’t bestowing upon your sappy cunt. “Think about i-it- you all ngh- round and glowing n’- rooound–“ Rambling and rambling at the wet splashes inside you of his stuffing, “You’d make the prettiest momma.”

As if to prove his point, a gentle hand greets the inflationary outline that was slowly forming its way at your tummy. Made by yours truly - Toji. 

“I…” And he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. And his sanity right along with it somewhere up there. “-want that. Oh, I- hngh! want that-”

Words barely out of your mouth before Toji’s hand slams down - he had to keep himself together. He needed to. But that grating desk clearly wasn’t the place, because you flinch when one straining leg snaps!

And Toji’s alpha instincts are flaring up in an instant, wrestling you to the ground right - pulling out for only a nanosecond to flip you onto your prespired back, pretty legs strewn sloppily over his shoulder, even prettier face gazing up at him - beside the wreckage. One that you’d only find it in yourself to worry about much, much later. 

Definitely not when he’s patting the curve of your pussy with a softened thwack! Murmuring, “Then..g-gonna hafta- hngh- take it.”

And if you didn’t know any better, then you’d have sworn that the smug Toji Fushiguro’s voice cracked as soon as he was settling for drawing a languid heart pattern around the velvety perimeter of your entrance. Before thumbing his way inside-

“Hck!” Your lip wobbles with oversensitivity, nails clawing red, red lines of raw need across the faintly bubblegum pink flush of his body. “S-Soooo much–”

And, yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

You watch with a bitten lip with a fat goblet of sweat drips from Toji’s angular jaw and slithers between his pecs to disappear down below. More - you wanted to fucking ruin him.

The desperation of your heat plummeting in heady wavelengths all around you and making the room smell like a candy heaven.

One that you were very much lost in with the unforgiving stretch of Toji pawing his way to working your sprinkling cunt doubly open. Fingers pumping in quick, methodical half-fucks in the same way that his persistant hips were doing.

Every single recoil against your fleshy cervix causes you both to keen at the wet slosh of his mounds of seed piling up inside you from all the endless rounds before. 

Again. And again. And again and again until it feels like countless hours upon hours. 

“Ohhhh- w-ait-” Toji stammers out, attractively sharp jaw falling and wrenching shut a few repeated times. And then his hips slow down. “Think s’gonna- ngh- ohhhh yeah, gotta take this kn-knot okay? Like my goood girl, okay?”

You’re filled with countless inches of a staggering girth that you didn’t even know was possible. Because while alphas were big…Toji was extra big. 

Extra rounded in his sizable knot, rested upon thickly globular balls that still held such voluminous amounts of cum. Pounding open your eager cunt further and- further-

“I-is it in?” You’re shrilling out, syllables slurring and stumbling together with the incredible stretch being made evident from down below. Fuck, your nails create more painted patterns. You didn’t even want to look - you couldn’t afford to cum again just from the sight. 

“J-just ngh- one more inch. Scratch me, ruin me- anythin’. But m’gonna make it f-fit.”

And Toji only hooks in another one of his thumbs, this time swiping the fat pad of a few stray fingers down your buxom clit. “Count w’me, doll-” For his sanity more than anything. Neck straining with a few popping vessels of blood that swell, face reddening with such a maidenly fucking blush as he looks downwards. “-ooone more-”

“-inch.” You finish off, not expecting that exact moment to be when Toji snaps. His patience. You, full of that achingly hot knot that’d been just begging for you to take him the very moment you waltzed up to him with that sweetened saccharine scent. 

His favorite now.

Gulping in cavernous quotas of it the moment Toji’s inflated knot pops and he sinks his sharpened canines into your scent glands with a whimper-

Hard enough to taste your honey-glazed pheromones, to draw blood. To be permanent - just as he’d needed it. 

Hard enough to make him cum all over again at the feeling of your own teeth making their pretty mark on him. Shit, he didn’t even know if it was fucking possible for his overworked cock anymore. But he sure wasn’t fucking complaining at the delicate splat splat splat of milky cum hitting the back of your pussy. 

Already filled to the brim and spilling with every loving grind that Toji was boring down upon you. The only thing that he could manage when you two were connected so…tightly this way.

“Cute.” Toji manages to run his fingers over the proprietorial set of indentations set in his flesh, eyes still laminated dewily with an euphoric sort of stunned awe. “F-fated mates really have some good ngh- bed chem, huh?”

Fated mates. You could only smile and scent that overwhelmingly addictive jasmine scent of his. Taking in a long, deep breath as he held you. Tight. 

Yeah, jasmine. 

But jasmine was Toji Fushiguro’s.

And you’d be damned if Toji Fushiguro ever let you off that easily.

The smile you’re given is feral, predatory teeth glimmering in the dim lighting and making the neat circle of marks at your neck throb. And something about that told you this was far, far from over. 

You could only hope that your floor didn’t suffer the same fate as your bed, and your desk…and your fluttering cunt.  

After all, you both did have years to make up for. 

“Now the only haaah- way to really test our bed chem is to see whether we can make Megs a big brother.”

A/N. Thinking about making an omegaverse installment for every JJK man- what do you think babygirls?

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — 8:45 pm, Nanami notes in his head. Home should've welcomed him hours ago... But his usual clock watching dissolves like sugar in hot tea the second your thighs clamp around his hips and your teeth sink into his lower lip, making time fade to meaningless numbers.

His tie hangs loosely around his neck, shirt splayed open revealing those delicious muscles glistening with sweat- proof of his dedication to work, even if he stays overtime.

However, right now, being a sorcerer is the furthest thing from his mind- especially when you call to him in that honeyed voice that drives him wild, "Ken- hah~ Kento~ n’you feel I-incredible," as he plunges deeper into your slick, hungry pussy, which grips him like it never wants to let go.

The sound of his first name on your lips… you’ve said it before, moaned it and screamed it, but tonight… tonight it rang differently.

"Say it again," he growls, surprising himself with the desperation in his voice. His usual measured control slipping as he drives himself balls deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, your body and womb welcoming each thrust, "let me hear you say it again…" Your pussy was stretched around his fat length, squelching obscenely with each thrusts. And your poor cervix throbbed in the best way possible as the mushroom head of his cock bullied itself into your womb like he's trying to brand you.

Interlocking his strong fingers with yours, he pins your hands against the rumpled sheets as he continues to sink completely into your wetness. His eyes watching carefully at every flutter of your eyelids, every parting of your lips as he hits that perfect spot that makes your eyes roll back, memorizing your expressions like priceless art.

And just when you cry out his name again, "Kento~ Pleas- AH!!" something shifts in his expression… a pause… his very own eyes slightly widening.

In this moment, Nanami Kento realizes how he wants to come home to your arms, build his life around your smile, create something beautiful together that will force him awake with tiny cries in the middle of the night.

"Look at me." he rasps, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your trembling lips, voice gruff but fucking wrecked, "Everything," he promises, his thrusts growing more urgent as his hands roam every inch of your flushed skin, worshiping the curves that have become his sanctuary, "no more regrets," he pants- pulling you closer until your bodies are slick against each other, "No more wasted time..."

His palm presses against your lower belly, his imagination running wild as he feels his cock moving deep within you, "Going to give you everything..."

The intoxicating vision of you swollen with his baby, of creating a family together, makes his heart pound against his ribs in ways that no career achievement ever could...

"Stay with me forever," he whispers, his vulnerability laid bare in those four words, "and let me come home to you every night..."

This was Nanami Kento’s way of saying I Love You- raw, unfiltered, and embedded in every thrust, every caress, every promise whispered against your skin.

Not with flowery poetry or practiced lines, but with his body atop of yours, his future entwining with yours, and his usual guarded heart finally surrendering completely to the one person who made him want more than just another day at work.