#what���s wrong with them seriously

[discjude]

Yeah this is about right (as always my thoughts are in the tags so there's actually kei content there lmao)

[meaningtotellyou]

gen z grow up challenge

[rivilu]

There's pieces of media that alter your brain chemistry and then there's pieces of media that rearrange you on a molecular level

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @your-sleeparalysisdem0n

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Visiting Johnny’s Family in Scotland —You wanted to make a good impression. Johnny wanted to talk about your sex life. His mum is thrilled.

Inspired by: @goatgoesmbe 's blurb (?)

You were doing so well.

The table was set. The roast was perfect. Johnny’s family was loud, warm, and weirdly obsessed with feeding you every ten minutes. His mum had already hugged you four times. His gran offered you whisky at 2PM. It was chaos, but sweet.

Then came the baby comment.

His mum, spooning potatoes onto your plate with a sly smile, said,

“Well, we’ve only got the one grandbaby from Johnny’s sister—and you know what they say, love. A full house is a happy house.”

You smiled politely. “Oh, we’re not in any rush—”

Johnny? He took that as a personal challenge.

“No rush, aye, but we are tryin’,” he said proudly, leaning back with one arm thrown casually over your chair. “Like, seriously puttin’ in the work.”

You nearly choked on your wine.

“Johnny,” you hissed, elbowing him.

“What?” He grinned, eyes dancing with zero shame. “She brought it up! I’m just sayin’, we’re very committed to the process. At least twice a day when I’m home. Sometimes three if we’re well fed.”

His entire family burst into laughter.

His mum? Absolutely beaming. “That’s the spirit, son!”

You covered your face, groaning. “Please stop.”

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” he said, nudging you. “What’s wrong with tellin’ them we’re gonna make the cutest wee MacTavish in Scotland?”

“You’re wrong with it,” you muttered, mortified.

“And when it happens,” he added, looking around the table like this was a family briefing, “I swear, I’m goin’ full dad-mode. Buildin’ cribs, learnin’ lullabies, gettin’ one of those chest baby carrier things—”

“Johnny!”

“—and don’t even get me started on her pregnancy hormones.” He looked directly at his mum. “Wild. Absolute wildfire in bed.”

The table erupted. Someone dropped a fork. His gran looked delighted. You wanted to fall into a pit and die.

You grabbed his arm, cheeks burning. “Can we not talk about this in front of your entire bloodline?”

But he just grinned at you, soft and unapologetic.

“I’m not ashamed to talk about wantin’ you to be the mother of my kids, bonnie,” he said, voice dropping just for you. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever wanted.”

You blinked. Speechless. Face still burning.

“Now,” he added, raising his glass to the table, “someone pass the potatoes. She needs the stamina.”

[screampied]

ʚ MAMA I’M IN LOVE WITH 2 CRIMINALS ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you had one job. interrogate two felonious criminals, not screw them both. but it’s a friday night and what happens in the interrogation room stays in the interrogation room, right? wrong.

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, criminals sukuna ryomen x toji fushiguro, unprotected, thrēesome, tatted toji, manhandling, choking, dirty talk, double penn + cowgirl dp, praise, spıt roasting, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), gunplay, spıt, brēeding, implied multiple rounds, nıpple play, overstim, dumbificaiton, they’re kinda fruity

wc. 6.4k

“you’re avoiding the question.” you utter with a vexed scoff.

these two, sukuna ryomen and toji fucking fushiguro. sleazy infamous criminals notoriously known within the city with a staggering criminal record underneath their belts. they were a duo, the duo. everyone knows—where there’s sukuna, there’s toji. constantly always in and out of prison as if life was a mere game to them, a mere joke. your patience continues to run thin the more you stare at them blankly. those unfazed eyes, those smirks, they didn’t take you seriously, especially with how easy on the eyes you were. you almost stammer over your words before peering back at toji. “my eyes are up here. quit wasting my time.”

“easy, girl. we already told ya we didn’t do it,” toji brings two hands up to his chest with a sly smirk, pretending to be offended. he sat right beside sukuna, both in the same orange undifferentiated jumpsuits. “besidesss,” and he leans up close to you, sliding a tongue against his slanted fabled scar. “for a detective you’re pretty shit at your job. where’s the eye contact, love?”

“yo toji don’t piss her off,” sukuna cackles with his arms crossed. he leans against the steel chair, taking in your entire frame. as much as you could give them both an annoyed glower, toji was right. you were one of the if not the best local detective in your city, yet with these two, you were slacking in everything. you could barely stare into their eyes without looking away, embarrassingly fumbling over your words, a mess. sukuna hums in amusement, cocking a brow upwards. “but y’know, detective. it is kind of hard to confess our crimes when ya look this good on a friday night.”

the compliment immediately catches you off guard. the air suddenly grows thick. you’re squeezing your legs shut tight - the stretchy fabric of your tucked fishnets glues against your skin before you clear your throat.

“i know what you’re doing. ‘s not gonna work.” but who were you kidding, just a single comment as that had you all hot and bothered. questioning one criminal was one thing, but two at the same time was another. you didn’t know how you were gonna get through the night. inside the dim lit interrogation room, it was quite spacey. luckily, it was pretty late at night so your superiors had left you alone to close. you insisted you’d question them then take them back to the station yourself. although, that certainly wasn’t the plan.

the brick walls were rustic, it grew very quiet the moment you trailed off your words. the silence was almost deadly, so deadly that you could practically hear a pin drop. sukuna and toji, they were infamous for their crimes—burglaries, robberies, to keep it short, they weren’t exactly good guys.

with a quick scratch toward his ripped pecs, toji glances around the room. sharp verdant hooded eyes gawk near the glass viewing window directly before he snickers. “saaaay,” he hums in a gruff tone, lazily slouching back against his seat. “how ‘bout ya take these handcuffs off ‘n we’ll tell ya everything ya wanna know.”

“nice try,” you lean up against the table, finally staring right into their eyes - moreso toji. he flashes you a cheeky grin as you inch forward, sukuna keeping his eyes fixated on you also. with a quick glimpse, you peek down at your watch. “seriously, i don’t have all day. i have somewhere to be in a hour, so-”

“hot date?” sukuna raises a brow, his collar from his jumpsuit ruffed out a bit. just that minor detail alone was so attractive. “so that’s why you’re wearing pretty fishnets, mm. lucky guy.”

again—you’re caught off guard. both men stare at you as if they’re trapped inside your thoughts, already knowing what you’re about to say next. just casually reading every single thing that pops into your brain. were you that easy to read? you didn’t actually have a date but you were going out. maybe being all dolled up on the job was a bit unprofessional. sheepishly abashed, you dig the soles of your boot heels into the carpet ground before muttering lowly, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“my personal life isn’t what’s important … here,” and your eyes widen once you see toji with his hands apparently free.

how . . .

your eyes then trail at sukuna who had your handcuff keys right in his palm. sukuna freed his wrists and toji freed himself before the dark haired fugitive stands up to stretch. damn, they just have snuck it when you were fantasizing. again,

“you were saying about y’er personal life?” the pink haired male hums, slowly making his way behind your edge table. you felt cornered— oh, perhaps taking the final shift of the night wasn’t the best idea.

no, it was a horrible idea.

yet, the more they got closer to you, the more you started to feel something … feverish.

suddenly, between your thighs felt hot. with the bare bottoms of your shoes rubbing against your heel, toji cups your chin, staring right into your eyes. sukuna appears behind you, creeping, tossing your documents to the side and you grouse. “you can get in a lot more trouble for touching me, toji,” you utter, both eyes of yours staring intently into his. the eye contact was so intimate — you’ve never had a problem with eye contact until now. his smirk, he brushes a thumb against your bottom lip before scoffing. “s- seriously.”

sukuna’s crimson-red eyes reach towards the side of your hip, you were armed. cute, he hums whilst pondering just what his next step might be before toji cackles.

“okay and,” he purrs, leaning in just a bit deeper. you smelled the scent of alcohol lingering on his tongue. his eye contact was simply alluring, dark viridescent irises pool into yours before he looks at his partner. “heh, ‘kuna. you think we’ll get less probation if we play with the pretty lady for a bit?”

sukuna goes next to you, snatching your pen from you and you gasp once he’s now gripping your entire face. you nearly gnaw on your lip, as you make direct eye contact. his touch was still surprisingly gentle nonetheless.

toji purrs, running a thumb against your skin-tight fishnets. “nah, right pretty girl? you ain’t gonna rat on us, are ya? at least not when you’re this soaked.”

damn,

he was right again. the reason your legs were shut tight was because you were trying oh so desperately to hide the mess right between your thighs. it was embarrassing—the stickiness that presses against your legs has you growing more and more aroused. so unprofessional, you had to keep repeating that in the back of your head. you were soddened, soaking right through your pretty laced panties despite how much you didn’t want to come to terms with your filthy state. you’ve dealt with so many criminals. more than you could count on both fingers, so what made these two any different? you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

anymore,

technically if you wanted to be delusional, you were basically off work. so a little fun wouldn’t matter.

then again, this little stunt would probably cost you your badge.

but screw it.

this kinda thing only happened in movies. and besides, it was only you currently on the clock. no one could even find out … right?

wrong.

you of course weren’t thinking about the future consequences that would creep up to follow you before you found yourself now shamefully on your knees for sukuna. he snickers at you, giving you a brief head pat before dragging your face up to his jeans.

“aw,” he murmurs, and you hear the low rasp of toji’s chuckle behind you. rough hands of his caress against both sides of your ass before pulling up your pencil skirt. you try to turn around but sukuna makes you shift your focus back towards him. “nah, detective. isn’t followin’ instructions part of y’er job? eyes down here..”

with a moan escaping from your throat, sukuna tugs down the lower part of his jumpsuit. the fabric ruffles and you’re met with a big bulge. oh, he was big. your first instinct was to paw at it with your hands, yet sukuna makes you rub your face against it. you can’t help but moan, sticking out your tongue as your face’s being smeared against his bulgy hard-on. “toji, she’s fuckin’ hungry. look at ‘er.”

toji hums, a finger of his trailing against your fishnets. they were skin tight, stuck against your skin like velcro. he groans, feeling the way you teasingly wriggle your ass against him. it was around midnight, surely no one would show up in the interrogation room—

although, the thought of it made you a bit more wet. you couldn’t lie to yourself though, you were familiar with these two criminals. you’d be crazy not to, everyone knew the toji fushiguro and sukuna ryōmen.

the duo,

you saw them all the time on local news. their mugshots would always get leaked. they’d always smile in their shots—gaining so much love from ladies. ironic, they even have fanfictions made about them.

there’s toji with the smug eye half-lidded grin, and then sukuna with the raised chin, natural fang-like teeth and grim annoyed expression.

your job was to question them not to be on your knees, but you weren’t complaining.

“all this ass,” toji snaps you out of your trance, gifting your rear a mean spank. the recoil of it drags you out of your little fantasm before you bite your lip and you’re facing directly forward. “what do ya want princess? want more don’t ya?”

you nod, sukuna’s cupping your chin with a sneer but your ass is only met with another rude smack.

“i- i want you both,” you grumble, toji smugly hums from your cute attitude. he’s taking in all of you — your curves, the cute beige trench coat you had on in an attempt to cover up your secret flashy outfit underneath, all of it. toji was handsy, once he had his hands on your hips, they were glued on. he groans from your answer before a thumb slides against your waist. “please.”

“but detective’s aren’t this dumb are they?” sukuna cranes his head to the right, squeezing both of your cheeks together with one hand. your lips were all glossy. he smears a thumb against them before leaning down to give you a kiss. you moan, kissing back before he pulls away, a lustrous concoction of spit departing from both mouths. “you sure you not gonna rat us out? both our lives are technically in your hands, princess.”

“i’m not gonna t- ah,” you stop to gasp, feeling toji’s bulge rub against you. his grip was delicate, he rubs yourself against him and groans. your arch was cute, bent over the table with your chest pressed against the multitude of paperwork. averting your lewd gaze back up towards sukuna, you loll out your tongue. he looks down, watching you create a snail trail of saliva near the middle part of his bulge. he’s so thick, the fabric tastes cottony against your tongue as you stare up at him. cerulean blue boxers with a tag sticking out from the side, yeah he definitely stole that. sukuna’s still got a grip on your scalp before he ogles at you pulling his boxers down. “s- so big.”

with a fat thumb still pressing down against your bottom lip, he coos out a sly tune. “scared yet?” and you prove him wrong by wrapping a hand around his base but god, he had staggering inches to him. toji’s still behind you and you moan once you feel him bring a wet kiss to your right ass cheek. he gives it a smooch only to spank it yet again, playfully giving it a bite mark. sukuna had just the right amount of curve to him. he’s so heavy that it hangs a bit — a pretty tannish peel of foreskin that you just wanted to run your tongue along. so you do. your mouth starts to gradually water as you inch up closer, and closer . . and closer.

sukuna’s staring at you with ruby red irises. you present his tip with a tiny lick and he grunts, your tongue feeling cold and dampened. “ugh, good girl. this is what that fuckin’ mouth should be used for. not talkin’ people’s ears off.”

his cock had a bit of a beige tan—sliding the top of your tongue against his frenulum, you watch as he grunts. sukuna’s fingers still maintain a firm enough grip against your scalp before you feel toji’s tongue. you whine, feeling the aching sensation of the other criminal propped up behind you preparing for a taste. toji roughly yanks your panties to the side, already pulling down your fishnets before he runs his nose all down your sopping, slick slit. “mhm, ‘kuna she’s already fuckin’ wet. all this time she was tryna get us to confess but her sloppy pussy’s the real culprit.”

rotund fingers of toji’s brush against your folds that were happily presented out to him—you’re facing forward and sukuna grabs ahold of his length. with a big hand, he rubs the tubby fat head of his tip over your face to make you moan before finally putting it in your mouth. he’s lengthy, you knew taking him inside would be quite the literal stretch. the girth too, so delicious. a vein that runs down the side of his shaft pulses in your mouth and you luxuriate in the taste. you hear the faint sound of ruffling behind you and it’s toji fondling with the holster that’s attached to your hip. “m-mhm,” were your muffled babbles, slowly taking every inch of sukuna down your tight throat. up until he’s all the way down, you almost gag whilst toji sneaks your firearm from out of its protective belt.

damn,

not only were you soaking wet for two criminals you were supposed to interrogate, but you were also unarmed.

great,

sukuna grabs a fistful of your hair — slender fingers massaging your scalp before giving it a firm pull. a hand of his claws into your hair, tugging firmly at your roots that cling against your scalp. he gruffly groans at your tongue, watching as your eyes close and your throat’s just so warm. it’s tight, the tense muscles in his and tighten before he slowly starts to drag your head back and forth, “good girl, no more talkin’ yeah,” and he peeks back at toji who’s paying his attention to you from behind. the other criminal’s messy, smearing a thumb down your pulsating clit before sucking it. it’s long, long sluuuurps that makes your muffled moans grow louder. your body shakes vigorously. the unsteady squirms of your body makes toji chuckle and you feel his hot, tempid breath ghost again your folds. you try to turn around but sukuna prevents it, gripping the crown of your head. “nuh uh princess, eyes up here.”

your body’s mixed with so much emotions — the throbbing without you only grows stronger, and as you’re rutting against the table, you hear the loud repetitive creaks. the furniture was wooden and worse for wear, probably over a hundred years old you’d guess. sukuna’s thin nostrils flare up once he meets your gaze, watching your head bob. “mmhh,” you try to speak, but he hums, ruffling your hair.

“don’t try ‘ta speak with your mouth full, baby,” he purrs to you in a rasp, a hand sliding underneath your chin, feeling the saliva trickle its way out the creaks of your lips. “you’re so messy. fuckin’ slobber mouth.”

toji’s practically making out with your cunt, pointed hooked tip of his nose brushing against your opening hood and you moan. he’s so nasty, taking every possible opportunity to spit on your cunt, later lapping it up with his tongue. two broad hands spread your ass open, lolling out his tongue to taste every inch you provided. “mhm,” he groans, occasionally swatting a sharp smack near both templed cheeks of your ass. you weren’t gonna last at all, you knew that. you start to grind against his face and he hums, nibbling against your clit either a sly smile. “thaaaat’s it, fuck back against my face, give it ‘t me,” and your entire body’s shaking. as you throat’s being stuffed, your chest continues to rumble against the cold, slick table.

toji feels your hand sneaking between your pried open thighs before you try to cutely creep and touch yourself. “whore, we don’t do that.” he grumbles, smacking your hand away. you whine, eyes meeting back up at sukuna who shrugs with a grin. his way of telling you, ‘ he’s right. don’t touch yourself. ’

as you taste a bit of pre-cum on your tongue, you lap your twitching moving muscle over sukuna’s slit that runs down his shaft’s head. he hisses, pulling you further onto his cock until he hears a tiny gag. “ooh, ‘m reachin’ the roof, huh,” and it’s so much saliva pouring from your mouth that it’s slithering down the valley of your chest. your legs shiver, feeling the scrap of toji’s scar tickle against your pussy — so good. he purposely rubs against your clit with it, feeling your hips continue to grind further back against his face. “she likes your scar toji, she’s kinky.”

“i know she does,” toji snickers, rubbing his face, smearing it all against your wet cunt. you whimper, faint hairs of his stubble sticking against your skin from the gripping slick. it’s just filthy, his tongue swirls all around your cunt before giving it a sloppy french kiss. you’re so close to the edge, focusing your mouth on sukuna’s cock, mentally pinching yourself because if this was a dream, you didn’t want to ever wake up. toji’s a freak though because you suddenly gasp sharply, feeling his thumb poke its way against your neglected, puckering hole.

“heh, can’t forget about her too.” he gruffly jibes, his tongue flicking towards that same area before shifting back towards your needy cunt. your legs were so jittery, on its last and final hinges before you slide a hand inside your blouse.

“awww,” sukuna teases, watching your face contort into a mixture of pleasure. “someone’s close, huh. you wanna make a mess on that bum’s face, pretty girl?”

“fuck you, man,” toji shoots him a glare before spreading your ass just a bit wider. his long tongue delves between your folds before your back arches against the table. giving your ass one final spank, you end up finishing and it’s so much.

you’re stunned, taken aback as you gush right on his face. his chin was sleek, dripping down with your honeyed juices that he laps clean. you’re a twitching, slobbering mess—frantically heaving through full lungs before many second’s later, your throat’s being poured full of sweltering hot cum. it’s oozing down your throat slowly. you blink twice before even realizing it’s his taste that’s filling up your mouth. sukuna’s meaty thighs tense as he drags you closer toward his cock. your nose bristles against his pink flushed pubes before he continues to dump an entire load right down your now full throat.

“goddamn,” he sucks the air, watching as you swallow without him even having to tell you—you look so pretty, pretty plump lips still sheeny and a few droplets of his seed bedaub against the left side of your cheek. “didn’t know defectives have such a nasty t- throat,” he groans, and that’s when he leans down, pulling you into a sultry, warm kiss. toji rolls his eyes, getting up himself while rubbing his body against your already propped up ass. docile, blown irises remain on sukuna before he squeezes your chin, curling his tongue down your throat. he groans, tasting himself on your mouth, bitterly sweet.

“yeah just forget about me,” toji grimaces, and you feel sukuna’s lips contort into a subtle smile before pulling away. he darkly chuckles, eyeing his partner.

“oh, sweetheart don’t be like that.”

“shut up,” he glares, and you hear a bit of shuffling. toji grabs your firearm and you take a few seconds to catch your breath. slow steady beats, you let off a tiny moan once you feel a smooth yet cold sensation rub against your pussy. shivering, you bite your lip before hearing yourself squelch continuously. “fuck, lemme see how wet you are, doll.”

you let off a tiny moan, feeling toji slowly skim the muzzle against your clit — you pulse from the friction, the criminal slicks a tongue against his scar at the sight. sukuna watches, cupping your chin once more. “wonder what y’r lieutenant might think of you. don’t think this is in a detective’s handbook, is it not?”

“n- no,” you feel a wave of pleasure ripple through you. never in your life have you felt more aroused, toji’s brushing the front part of the gun against your pussy before easing it inside.

easily, you coat it with your previous slick before it starts to slowly shove in. you whine, bringing a hand over your mouth. “mph,” and you hear a low cackle from behind, thighs shaking in pure rapture.

“is she wet enough, ‘toj?” toji hums, giving you another brief head pat.

“yeah, fuckin’ slut made a mess already on the front sight,” he snarls. the tint in his pants growing hard. he pulls it out and already, it’s a slippery sheet of your sweet smearing over your own firearm. dirty thoughts purged your brain, imagining yourself using the exact same weapon on a threat, the same exact weapon that was just shoved deep into your cunt only a second ago.

you were egregiously throbbing and they both couldn’t wait anymore, neither could you. toji takes a seat near one of the steel chairs, sitting manspread. he’s already got his jumpsuit pulled down, burly brawny muscles flexing—a few explicit tattoos painting on both sleeves of his beefy arm. he’s so chiseled, so fucking hot. a big hand rubs his lap before ushering you to sit with a single hand motion. “sit on it,” and a burning heat overtakes you, peering at his thick cock that was stood tall and on display. he was so big, a blushing reddened tip with an even bigger base. toji was thickset, you couldn’t compare the two if you wanted. his neck lowers as you make your way on his lap, straddling him and preparing to align yourself. sopping wet sloshes squelches, you were drooling down from your cunt and right onto the fat tip of his dick. you moan, feeling how he’s slowly entering your heated core.

the stretch was so good — so fucking good.

“fuck, there we go baby. nice ‘n slow, yeah,” and toji catches sukuna staring, an annoyed scowl on his lips. “oh, sweetheart. ‘s someone jealous? why don’t you get in here?”

“tch,” sukuna mumbles, and he goes up behind you. toji’s barely in, halfway, yet it feels like full. you pulsed at the thought of both of them inside. sukuna hesitates though, planting a kiss near the inside of your nape. “whaddya say, pretty. ‘s that okay? ‘d ya want both? can you take two?”

“y— yes,” you suck your teeth, sucking a single sharp breath. toji was so fucking big, stirring up your insides so good until the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach died from the friction. it was a tight fit, and they both hum at how quick you were to respond. “i can take both. pleaseplease just hurry.”

“what ‘bout your ‘lil date?” toji teases, a big hand smacking against your ass — gifting it a solid firm squeeze. his thumb brushes against the soft skin before snickering at you. “both holes, if we give you that, you promise this goes off the record?”

sukuna whispers against your ear, and he’s starting to delve his cock in also, tugging down his boxers halfway. “yeah, princess. no snitchin’ yeah?”

“p- promise,” you moan, the mixture of both cocks brewing up such a feeling of bliss. you’re steadily throbbing before your hips start to move into toji. with a loud pop, your cunt squelches as it’s double stuffed and they both huskily groan in simultaneous unison. so fucking big, your jaw drops at both tips puncturing into you at once. you feel it all, embarrassingly feeling the same familiar sheet of slick stick against your thighs. “oh my g-goddd.”

each body that stuck against each other was so hot, sukuna grabs your hips from the back and toji holds yours from the front. “fuck,” the pink haired man grunts, feeling how easily you clamp down against him. toji’s cock kisses—french kisses against a spongey spot that makes you dumbly slump against his chest. “mhm, look at her toji. such a sloppy mess for two criminal cocks. maybe she should get arrested.”

“then that’d be no fun,” toji plays along, a scarred hand giving your right ass cheek a teasing grip.

the recoil bounces and bounces against his lap before he’s tossing his head back. occasionally, you spot his adam’s apple bobbing before he pants. you’re jerking your hips, trying to develop some kind of rhythm but it’s just rubbish. you’re trying, both cocks molding your walls with each merciless thrust. already, you’re drooling, brushing up against toji’s chest. you’re hit face first against his tits—not even tits but with cups that big, you might as well call it that. there’s not a single thought in your empty brain, and without thinking, you lean down to latch your mouth against his perky exposed nipples. “wha- fuckin’ weirdo.”

toji grunts, feeling you suck against his chest, rolling out your tongue into a swirl against each spot. you’re still being filled from both cores, both heated angles as your lashes flutter. oh, this felt like some kind of erotic fantasy, just being stuffed and sandwiched between two top dogs. the pit of your stomach grows feverishly warm and you whine, sucking against toji’s tender skin. “aw, think you might be her favorite, toji.” sukuna jeers, steadying your hips a bit. his voice, his breath, it went right up against the lobe of your ear, giving it a teasing lick of its own.

you whimper, naturally arched brows creasing and furrowing together as you feel a coil snap.

they finally reached your g-spot, it feels soft and padded. “fuck fuuuuck, ‘s good,” you babble, pathetic sobs pouring from your lips as you’re practically humping toji’s cock. sukuna fills you from behind, flustered crown repeatedly kissing up against clenching sexes. you’re transmitted in a dimwitted state, claws of your own fingernails digging into toji’s beefy thighs. “ngh, ‘s big. fuck, don’t stop— please.”

“what a fuckin’ blabbermouth,” toji grunts, watching as you paw your hands at his chest again. you weren’t sucking on him anymore and he brings a hand over your mouth. “nasty girl. this what you really wanted all along, huh. you didn’t wanna interrogate us, you just wanted to get stuffed, yeah?”

a silent reply comes out of your lips as you’re just covering their bases with a translucent puddled mess of your arousal — it’s messy, you’re messy.

“knock knock, dumb girl,” toji lightly knocks against your forehead, witnessing right before his eyes as your own pupils start to roll back. he removes his hand from your mouth and the intense friction of pleasures was so appetizing you could barely formulate an audible sentence. you’re still being filled in both areas, gummy walls taking in them both before you start to drool again. with a single hand, toji holds up your head as if he’s holding a trophy. “don’t tell me y’r already dumb, c’monnn. wanna hear that sweet voice.”

“t- tooooji,” was all you could babble out, rocking back and forth between each of them.

languid, slow hits against your core had your head spinning. with a sharp wind cutting straight out of your windpipe, you’re panting, clinging onto the dark haired man tightly. he eyes you with that same cunning smirk, clammy hands helping to reel you back and forth into his pelvis. sukuna groans lowly, edges of his teeth seeping down into the soft corners of your flesh. “fuck, ‘m so full. fuuuck.”

they both groan at the same time, feeling you suddenly clamp down, a squelch squeals out of your cunt before your legs merely collapse. with piles of hands roaming down your feverish skin, you start to feel your mouth salivate again.

sweet, salty saliva trickles its way into your mouth. you were so loud but your deafening thumping heart beats were even louder. “good girl, doin’ so good takin’ us both. nice ‘n slow,” and the nape of your neck’s met with a chaste kiss from sukuna. “ride this bum ‘till he breaks for me, yeah?”

with wobbling legs preparing to surrender and fall in defeat— you nod your head, picking up your pace just a bit. raven strands of unkempt hair run down toji’s face before he groans. “mhm, nasty ‘lil girl. don’t listen to him, ‘m not gonna— oh fuck.”

toji’s caught off guard by how sloppy your hips become. a breath gets caught in his throat as you’re grinding against him, sucking them both in so filthy. with your clit repeatedly being smothered with kisses from each tip, you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “hngh, toji. ‘m gonna cum,” you whisper in his ear, growing a bit of spine to kiss near his neck. he grunts, thick weighty cock slamming into you raw. as you’re so close up to him, you feel his jaw tighten at your hips—sukuna’s hips following too. various pairs of hands grab onto your body, and you feel a jumble of bunch of figurative red handed prints clawing at your body. “toji t- tojiiii,” you’re mewling out his name like a broken record. sukuna’s rude sharp smack against your ass making you add his name. “sukuna, fuuuck.”

“look at him, he’s so close, baby,” sukuna murmurs against your ear, jerking your hips further against toji. toji’s raspy groans grow rougher and he slouched back against the chair. you’re in nothing more than a cowgirl position yet you’re being double stuffed by two — on toji’s lap and sukuna claiming you from behind. so lewd, he’s so close that he could almost taste his orgasm, the thought alone scratches such a carnal itch in his brain. a few fingers wrap around your neck, giving you a gentle tug before you croak out a squeak. “such a nasty detective. gettin’ wet for the people y’r supposed to be questioning,” and he reaches his a hand down between the crack of your thighs, feeling against your stuffed cunt. “should be questioning this sloppy girl instead.”

“fuck fuuuuck,” toji growls, his own thigh starting to mimic the pace of your hips, bouncing back and forth. the curve of your hips swivel ‘n swirl around his lap, taking in each salacious thrust. it’s too good. the mean grip your walls has against his cock, both cocks was just too addictive. “shit, ‘m gonna cum, babygirl. ‘s gonna be so much.”

you lean in, planting a wet kiss against his scar and his mouth twitches at the sudden contact. “mhm,” you rut into him quicker, feeling sukuna’s fingertips ghost against the outer part of your neck. toji’s eyes become half-lidded, sukuna’s following his movements — eventually matching each other in sync, in perfect harmony. both were reaching their peaks and it was just so inevitable.

slowly but surely, it was approaching. you felt that familiar bubble of pleasure fermenting in the bottom pits of your tummy all too well. it’s so good, by now you completely forgotten about the fact that you were supposed to go out tonight.

“fuck, where do you want it, pretty,” sukuna rasps against your ear, both hands slithering its way toward your bouncing tits. his thumbs prod against your sensitive nipples, swiping against the tender area as he watches you squirm in lewd ecstasy. you feel hot, dozens of meaningless babbles pouring out of your mouth. you’re a mess, barely able to comprehend what he said until he spanks your cunt a single greet. “talkin’ to you, gimme a answer, princess. don’t be rude.”

“i- inside,” you whimper, his touch against your breasts making you grind your hips further back against him. your rhythm was hypnotic, matching every single hit and thrust. both cocks deeply plunge their way into your walls until it’s buried way into the hilt. you whine, grabbing into sukuna’s hands yourself, making him squeeze harder. his touch, it made you throb. him spanking your cunt only made you twice as sopping wet though. more than you already were. “inside pleaseplease.”

“nasty,” toji tchs, gripping your chin to make you look up at him. you’re met with the coldest gaze. with a hand sliding down your spine from sukuna, toji brings your torso forward at a more quick pace to slam you quicker into them. you gasp, feeling both slit tips thwack and thwack into your weeping, swollen cunt. “fuckin’ — shit,” he growls lowly, and the moment finally comes.

the both of them at separate, divided times, finish deep inside you. a vastly oozing amount of cum emits into both holes raw and you huff.

whining, you fall into toji’s chest, relishing in the sticky mess that’s cascading deep into your womb. it’s hot, a flowing stream of seed that spouts all the way inside and you’re left dumbfounded and hungry for more.

oh, you’ve never felt anything like it. a tingling sensation storms into the pit of your stomach as they both groan, dumping you full of their satiny ropes of cum.

“fuck,” sukuna grunts, holding your hips still so you could feel every drop, every single drop. he hisses at the brief sting, your walls gripping onto them tight, a tenaciously slimy mess skating down your plush thighs. “such a good girl, heh. right ‘toj?”

“shut— up,” he puffs out an elongated breath of fresh air. you moan, still shivering as you came undone yourself, making a cute attempt at riding out your orgasm. still, your hips were slow but barely cresting haste. toji looks at you with glossed eyes and for a split second, he’s speechless. “goddamn baby, y- you’re a mess, y’know that?”

your own eyelids were growing significantly heavy, barely able to keep themselves open. after a few seconds, sukuna pulls out, watching a foamy wad of cum — a milky base, coating around each base. it’s so hot, the stuffed cum pours out of you and you hear the needy squelches your cunt makes. desperately craving for more, utterly devestated that it’s now clenching on nothing except for toji’s flaccid cock.

so messy,

he cranes your head toward him before brushing a thumb against your lip. “c’mere,” and his tone was low, you moan before leaning in to give him a kiss. your heart races, mentally swearing at yourself because this wasn’t part of the job.

your boss, some middle-aged lieutenant was expecting a full report of alibis and details about each of their cases — and yet here you were, making out with one suspect and grinding on another. shame foils at your brain as your lips crash against sukuna’s, moaning at his minty, sugary taste before he abruptly breaks away. “can’t forget about you, big guy.”

as he pried himself off of you, you watch as the pink haired criminal leans in to kiss toji, his eyes widen, hearing a low cackle rumble against his lips before he returns the gesture. toji puffs, not knowing where to place his hands. you don’t know why, but watching them sloppily make out made you throb. you’re still sitting on toji’s lap with his twitching cock still buried inside of you. sukuna slyly smiles against the other felon’s mouth. his hand trails down toji’s beefy body, stopping toward his shaft — he was so close to touching it but stops. that makes toji groan.

gradually, he pulls away - a sheeny web of spit departs from each lips and toji grows flustered.

“what the fuck.” toji grunts.

“oh, i heard that moan, don’t deny it.”

it was like this the entire time — countless banner, a plethora of positions in the interrogation room. the same interrogation room where you were supposed to be interrogating.

but that didn’t happen, and instead, you’ve been left stuffed full more than you’ve ever felt before. your clothes were practically torn and ruined, including your pretty fishnets.

with a sigh, you’re on your knees with both criminals gawking at you. their zipped up saffron-colored jumpsuits were back on and toji grabs your chin. “open, baby,” and sukuna’s toying with your handcuffs. knees of yours bury into the solid sleek floor before you part your lips open. toji watches, whipping back out your firearm before pressing the barrel between your lips. “lick it.”

you moan, lapping your tongue against the metal pierce—sukuna watches, growing quiet and wonders what toji’s gonna do next. you could feel your pulse through your ears again, it’s so loud that it puts booming speakers to shame.

pretty fluttering lashes of yours bat within each blink before toji bends down a bit toward your kneeling level. “good girl,” he roughly replies, sticking a finger between the trigger. it toggles against it and you feel a heat of nerves prick against your skin—giving birth to what appears to be goosebumps. toji has a smug grin, raising a dark brow. “you trust me, baby?”

stupidly enough, without hesitation, you nod with the metallic taste of the weapon still lingering on your tastebuds. “y- yes,” and your voice is so soft and pathetic. you sounded needy, longing for more of their touch, more of their taste. “i trust you toji.”

he makes your mouth pry open a bit more. pretty swollen lips,

perfect.

the gun, your gun that’s held currently in his hand, it goes straight into your mouth, your tongue flicks against the upper part of the barrel before he scoffs. “good girl.”

and you hear a single clicking cock,

your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to realize toji just pulled the trigger.

but nothing happens,

and suddenly, his boner was ruined.

“well shit.”

[joelswhcre]

────۶ৎ class dismissed

tommy’s camp set up combat training for young adults, and joel miller got stuck teaching it. you, with your bratty attitude and reckless mouth, decided to push him too far. now, you’re gonna learn a lesson.

warnings: smut, age gap (reader is 18+), teacher/student, spanking, choking, size kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, overstimulation.

more

ᖭ༏ᖫ

tommy’s camp had rules.

one of them? never fuck with joel miller.

he was brutal, sharp-edged, a man who had lived long enough to carve his own way into the world and leave bodies in his wake. so when they set up training classes for young adults—how to handle a knife, how to fire a gun—he was the first name on the list.

and when you walked into his class, all big eyes and soft skin and a mouth that didn’t know when to quit, he knew he was fucked.

but he had discipline.

he ignored the way you looked at him, like you wanted something you shouldn’t. he kept his hands to himself when you pressed too close, when your fingers lingered on his forearm as he adjusted your grip on a gun.

he ignored it all—until he couldn’t.

until you pushed him too far.

—

"you’re not takin’ this seriously," joel muttered, arms crossed as he watched you struggle with your knife stance.

you huffed, rolling your eyes. "it’s just a knife, miller. not that hard."

he exhaled through his nose. if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was attitude. especially from you.

"come here," he ordered.

you obeyed, stepping closer, holding out the knife.

joel grabbed your wrist, flipping it with ease, and suddenly, the blade was against your throat, the sharp edge kissing your skin.

your breath hitched.

"not that hard, huh?" his voice was low, gritted. he pressed just enough for you to feel it, for you to understand how easily he could cut you.

your pupils blew wide. you swallowed, throat bobbing against the blade.

"careful," joel murmured.

your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. he followed the motion, jaw flexing.

"you gonna teach me or what?" you whispered.

joel knew that tone. knew exactly what you were doing. pushing him. testing him.

"fuckin’ brat," he muttered, letting you go.

you stumbled back, gripping the knife tight.

"again," he ordered, stepping behind you, his chest pressed firm against your back.

his breath was hot against your ear. his hands—big, warm—rested on your hips, pressing you into place.

"hold it like this," he murmured, fingers wrapping over yours, tightening your grip.

you exhaled, your body sinking against him.

"good girl."

it escalated quickly after that.

stolen glances in class. accidental touches that weren’t accidental at all.

until you showed up at his cabin one night, wet from the rain, looking at him like he was the only thing you needed.

he let you in.

"you know this is wrong," joel said, voice rough as you straddled his lap.

"don’t care," you whispered.

he groaned when you rolled your hips, feeling just how much bigger he was, how much stronger.

"’course you don’t," he muttered, gripping your waist.

his fingers dug into your skin, bruising, claiming.

"fuckin’ spoiled," he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck, nipping at the skin until you whimpered. "needy little thing."

you gasped when he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you into the bed.

"gonna take what i give you, yeah?" he rasped, his weight heavy over you.

"yeah," you breathed, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.

"gonna let me fuck you proper?"

"please."

his eyes darkened.

"that’s my girl."

he took his time, teasing, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, groaning when he felt how wet you were.

"fuck," he muttered, spreading you open. "s’ all for me?"

"yes, joel—"

"you call me sir when i’m between your legs," he ordered. his hands made quick work of his belt, shoving both his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his cock.

you whimpered. "yes, sir."

he smirked, pressing his cock against your cunt, letting you feel just how thick he was.

"gonna stretch you good," he murmured, pushing in slow.

you gasped, body arching as he filled you, the stretch just shy of too much.

"fuckin’ tight," he groaned, gripping your hips, forcing himself deeper.

"so big," you whimpered, nails dragging down his arms.

he exhaled sharply, rolling his hips, letting you feel every inch.

"yeah," he muttered. "and you’re takin’ it like a good fuckin’ girl."

his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.

"this what you wanted?" he murmured, eyes locked onto yours.

"yes, sir," you gasped.

"gonna fill you up," he muttered, pace picking up, fucking into you hard, deep, every thrust knocking the air from your lungs.

"gonna breed this pretty little cunt," he rasped, his grip tightening.

your body trembled, pleasure curling deep in your stomach.

"please," you whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"fuck," joel growled, his pace turning desperate, brutal, his hips slamming into yours.

"gonna make you mine," he muttered. "gonna fuckin’ own you."

and when you came, legs shaking, body clenching around him, he followed right after, burying himself to the hilt, spilling into you with a deep, guttural groan.

he stayed there, breathing heavy, pressing a rough kiss to your jaw.

"you keep pushin’ me, sweetheart," he murmured. "see what happens next time."

and you did.

you kept pushing him.

the next day in class, you acted like nothing happened. like joel miller hadn’t spent the night fucking you into his mattress, his hands wrapped around your throat, his cum dripping down your thighs.

but joel wasn’t stupid.

he saw the way you shifted in your seat, the way your legs pressed together when he walked past, the way you bit your lip when he barked orders at the class.

he saw everything.

"today, we’re practicin’ close-quarters combat," he announced, arms crossed, eyes sweeping the room.

then—

"you."

your head snapped up.

joel motioned you forward.

"since you think you got this all figured out, why don’t you show everyone what you learned?"

you swallowed, heat curling in your stomach at his tone—low, firm, full of unspoken warning.

"yes, sir," you murmured.

a muscle in his jaw twitched.

you knew what you were doing.

he moved first, grabbing your wrist, twisting it with ease, spinning you until your back hit his chest.

his breath was hot against your ear.

"y’think i won’t put you on your knees in front of everyone?" he muttered, low enough that only you could hear.

your breath hitched.

"you wouldn’t."

his grip tightened.

"try me."

later. his cabin.

"you think that was funny?" joel growled, pushing you back against the table.

you smirked. "maybe."

his eyes darkened.

"gonna have to teach you some fuckin’ respect," he muttered, grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach.

you barely had time to brace yourself before his palm came down, sharp and stinging, right against the curve of your ass.

you gasped, body jolting forward from the impact, your fingers curling against the wood.

"count," he ordered, voice low, rough.

"one," you breathed.

another slap. harder.

"two."

his other hand slid up your back, pressing you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"you keep testin’ me," he muttered, kneeling behind you, his mouth hot against the back of your thigh.

his teeth grazed the skin, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"gonna fuckin’ ruin you."

his fingers slid between your thighs, teasing, barely pressing where you needed him most.

"so fuckin’ wet," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

you whimpered. "joel—"

his hand came down again, another sharp slap that had your body jolting.

"what’d i tell you?"

"yes, sir," you corrected, voice shaking.

"that’s my girl," he murmured, fingers slipping inside you, slow, deep.

your breath hitched, legs trembling as he fucked you with them, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass.

"gonna take me like this?" he rasped, his cock pressing against you, thick and hard.

"yes, sir," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

he groaned, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds before pressing in, stretching you open inch by inch.

"jesus," he muttered, gripping your hips, holding you still as he buried himself to the hilt.

you whimpered at the stretch, body clenching around him.

"fuck," joel gritted, pulling back before slamming in again, deep and deliberate.

his pace was slow at first, making you feel every inch, every pulse.

"so fuckin’ tight," he rasped, fingers digging into your hips.

"more," you gasped, body aching for him, needing more.

"greedy fuckin’ girl," he muttered, but he gave it to you.

his thrusts turned rough, hard, every snap of his hips sending a shockwave through your body.

one of his hands tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, his lips brushing your ear.

"gonna fuckin’ fill you up," he growled, his other hand slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit.

your legs trembled. pleasure coiled deep in your stomach, white-hot, sharp, consuming.

"c’mon, sweetheart," joel murmured, voice thick. "give it to me."

your body clenched around him, and he groaned, his thrusts turning frantic, sloppy, chasing his own high.

"fuck, baby—"

he shuddered, burying himself deep, spilling into you with a deep, guttural groan.

he stayed there, breathing heavy, pressing kisses along your shoulder, his hands smoothing over your thighs, your waist, your sore ass.

"gonna behave now?" he murmured, voice smug.

you smirked, glancing back at him.

"probably not."

joel exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

"brat," he muttered, pressing one last kiss to the back of your neck.

joel didn't move right away. his body was heavy against yours, breath still ragged, fingers still splayed over the bruises he'd left on your hips.

he pressed one last kiss to your shoulder before pulling back, watching the way his cum dripped from your sore, swollen cunt.

"fuckin’ messy," he muttered, dragging his fingers through it, pushing it back inside you.

your whole body trembled.

"too much?" he murmured, voice quieter now, rough at the edges.

"no," you whispered, half delirious. "not enough."

joel groaned, running a hand down his face.

"you’re gonna kill me, sweetheart," he muttered.

he pulled you up against his chest, holding you there, big, warm hands soothing over your skin.

"but if you keep actin’ up in my class," he murmured, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, "i’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who you fuckin’ belong to."

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[shaisuki]

who in haikyuu and blue lock secretly prefers big girls very more and those who aren't secretive about it

❝ 𝐁𝚰𝐆 𝐆𝚰𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ❞

FEATURING. HAIKYUU AND BLUE LOCK MEN

CONTENT WARNINGS. implied smut + fatphobic themes

NOTES. don't take this list seriously. this is just my opinion and preferences. you can decide where they are much suited.

SYNOPSIS. the whose low-key and those who are shamelessly proud.

# 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (most to least)

BOKUTO KOUTARO

— no surprise here. bokuto canonically like plump girls and isn't afraid to show his appreciation towards girls who have extra on themselves. will pickup you in the daily basis and parades and show you off in his games and proudly tells everyone that you are his.

ISSEI MATSUKAWA

— what's there to hide? if you like someone tell them no need to bullshit yourself that you cannot like fat girls and issei is one of them. what's the shame. forbid this man if it applies cause he's a menace to soft girls. the one who squeals when gets pick up and the mean one-liners he says to you to get you giggling and who knows at the end of the night, you'll be screaming his name while you ride his cock. a smug grin on his face.

MIYA ATSUMU

— a big sucker for big girls. didn't know it until he meets you and it fills his life like a missing puzzle. realizing that all he needs is a big girl in his life. we don't want to continue this conversation. he's going to yap all day and all night and will fight anyone who disagrees with him. beware you're going to lose. this one won't stop until proven right.

NISHINOYA YU

— worships the ground you walk on. see how he is with kiyoko? wait until he's with a big girl. smitten. s-m-i-t-t-e-n. our boy here is awestruck after realizing how good big girls are even you're thrice bigger than him. what's the matter with it. man isn't afraid to show you off. a short king to his big queen.

KUROO TETSUROU

— a loser. man will write a thesis to give the result's how you will change after being with a fat girl. gives you the key points on what to expect and what will you receive from them. have a dopey grin on his face while he talks about you and isn't afraid to flaunt you.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

— not so secret. it doesn't like he's hiding it. casually brings you up to one of his interviews that he gets talkative from it that he doesn't realize it. man is so whipped and wakatoshi isn't the one to hide his appreciation bit isn't blatant with it. will tell you how he likes you and tells how gorgeous you are when he sees someone that is a big girl.

special mentions: DAICHI, SUGAWARA, TANAKA, MAKKI, OIKAWA, HOSHIUMI, LEV, HINATA.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

— don't tell anyone. he will die. he just can't take it how infatuated he is with big girls. everything about them is soft, soft, soft. it's too much that he can't breath when someone's close and it's so obvious that it isn't a secret anymore.

KEI TSUKISHIMA

— why would he tell everyone about it. he likes the peaceful and quiet. behind closed doors is where he'll show his true colors. a nasty fucker who loves and gets off to see you cumming with his fingers. thick thighs jiggling and your round stomach bouncing from how good he's fucking you.

TENDOU SATORI

— prefers to admire girls with soft curves. there's no harm in it and watching them in their own safe space and be themselves is what he likes. there's nothing wrong admiring them.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

— is casually cool with it that you didn't notice it that you wouldn't know he have a preference for big girls cause he go the extra mile for them. casually flaunts how he can lift weights that's heavier than you and you will be light as a feather and can fold you in different ways that you will end up giving your number to him.

AKAASHI KEIJI

— he just keeps to himself while coughing it up to cover-up. the new hire is really cute. be cool about it and ask her about coffee sometimes. she's just so cute with her chubby cheeks when smiling or pouting. anything's good with her. doesn't realizing that he draws you in a new manga that he was supposedly to be editing.

special mentions: KENMA, AONE, SUNA, SHIRABU, SAKUSA, HYAKUZAWA, KYOUTANI, KITA, ARAN, HIRUGAMI, DAISHOU.

# 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (most to least)

BACHIRA MEGURU

— baby loves them soft and big. plush with the right curves that would make him swoon and he chases them. something different you know, how to put it — exciting. it's literally chasing the joy what big girls bring him. everything about them is what him happy.

BAROU SHOUEI

— man provides and is on the provider mindset. what's the shame to like big girls who eats a lot and it's not like he swerves on what society ideal girls is but he just drifts on them. don't be surprised if he's asking for your hand one day.

MIKAGE REO

— once this boy decides on a preference he's not stopping or let alone find another thing that will interest him and since he discovered the existence of ✨fat girls✨ it hasn't been the same for him. he charms and woos them and of course spoils them. no one will dare to ask reo about why cause there's nothing to wonder about.

OLIVER AIKU

— this man is a womanizer. whoever have the pussy he's going and what's better with a pussy that is plump and soft belonging to a fat girl. he's converted. is similar to a dog who salivates after seeing a bone and oliver's shooting his shot at you the moment he laid eyes on you.

RYUSEI SHIDOU

— freak. can someone match this man's freak? turns out there is someone and how satiated he is to find someone. a fat girl to calm this man's need or worsens it. a big menace to bigger girls. wanting to get crushed by their weight and just feel them all over.

special mentions: KARASU, GAGAMARU, KIRA, OTOYA, SNUFFY, JULIEN

NAGI SEISHIRO

— he don't like it but trust me he like big girls. whose homely and bodies warms him and it was straight up heaven for this lazy boy. cuddles and cuddles and cuddles. this boy wants all the comfort and having a soft girlfriend, he's complete.

ITOSHI SAE

— man is built like he'd gone from war. he needs someone to remind him of home and that comes in the form of a soft fat girl that offers him all goodness what life has to offer. he sees them as someone who isn't too the usual girl who comes to flirt and get what they want from him. you're just you and it's enough for a man to rest easy for the rest of his days.

ITOSHI RIN

— he don't need to tell it. always been attracted to girls who are plush. nice and round. an extra on them. gets all starry-eyed when he sees one and his mind drifts into somewhere faraway where he and you only exists.

IKKO NIKKI

— mysterious as he can go. see that closet of his? don't open it. opening it is like pandora's box but it's the good one. filled with goodness of fuller figures in different magazines and manga. sweet girls with fat bodies being folded in any ways. you might also want to stay from his history. it's full of hentai with fat girls as protagonists.

ALEXIS NESS

— he got shamed for a lot of things. in turn baby boy learned to keep things secret and that includes his types on girls. big girls who carries themselves with such confidence that his heart is bursting from love he felt for them. to his eyes they are such beautiful creatures similar to his magic and it's enough for him to stare and maybe get lucky.

special mentions: ISAGI, HIORI, KAISER, JINPACHI, NOEL, SNUFFY

[fakebwitch]

rafe tries to teach you how to play golf…

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you’ve always accompanied rafe with topper and kelce at the golf course, you sat on the golf cart a few meters from them, a small cap with a visor covered your eyes from the scornering sun while you sipped in your hands the cold drink you had taken with rafe’s money. you had never tried to play seriously, only a few times with some of your friends. rafe had insisted for almost more than a week that you learn, arguing that he would have preferred to play with you rather than with kelce and topper. it was rare to see rafe so insistent about something and so you decided to please him, maybe that way he would have realized that it would be a waste of time.

that’s how you found yourself in this situation, rafe’s hands placed firmly on your waist, holding you still in the correct position, his bulge right against your ass, feeling his warm breath on your neck while he indicated what you should have done. he moved his hands over yours, which were firmly holding the bat, “wait... like this” he addressed you, moving your hands so that they were positioned correctly and then angle the bat better.

“once you are in this position you calmly pull back the bat, maintaining the same angle, you focus on the hole and then with a sharp blow you hit the ball” his words were firm and clear, explaining the basic rules of golf, while with his hands still firm on yours he showed you how you should have moved the bat back and then close to the white ball.

“got it?” he asked you bringing you back to reality, you nodded without uttering a word, “words baby” he incited you by lightly pinching your waist, “got it” you said, trying to convince both yourself and him. “try with a shot” he said moving away from you, the warmth of his hands left yours as well as his body, watching you from behind waiting for you to put into practice what he had explained to you.

you swallowed looking around you, nothing he had told you had entered your head, your mind was focused entirely on him, on how his body was so close to yours, how he seemed so attractive patiently showing you the rules. “c’mon princess ‘s easy, just hit the ball like i told ya” he said reassuring you, you turned your head crossing his gaze, he gave you a small smile.

you looked back in front of you, focusing on the hole, you raised the bat a little and then hit the ball. you watched as the ball slid on the green lawn, unfortunately it stopped a few centimeters after the hole. your shoulders fell disconsolate turning with a slight pout towards rafe, “it’s okay baby it’s your first time, we’re gonna try again” he said approaching you again placing his hand down on your back.

“don’t know if i’m good” you said squinting your eyes at the sun, meeting his gaze while he took another ball out of his pants pocket, “you just need a bit of practice angel, you can do it” he reassured you by lowering himself to place the ball on the tee.

“put yourself in position” he said getting up, you did as he said, slightly opening your legs holding the bat tightly between your hands, “your legs are too open” rafe positioned himself behind you, his hand rested on your thigh, tightening the skin under his hands while slightly closing the space between one leg and the other. you felt yourself blush at the gesture pushing you unintentionally against his bulge.

“you’re too rigid princess, loosen up” his tone low while with the same hand he wrapped your biceps, indicating you to relax the grip, you breathed deeply shaking your shoulders trying to relax your muscles, “you’re tense baby, what’s wrong?” he asked you frowning his face, his hand still tight around your arm. you tried to do your best but you couldn’t focus on anything other than his hands on you and his bulge in contact with your ass.

your skirt, already short in itself, due to the slightly bent position had risen, so that the fabric of his jeans was in contact with the thin material of your panty. you moved slightly, so as to create some kind of friction between your pussy and his dick in the pants.

rafe knew you too well, and immediately realized what you were doing, using him to please you. “rafe...” you almost gasped, now completely distracted, no longer caring about where you were and what your boyfriend was trying to explain to you.

“stop this shit you need to be concentrated” he said stopping your movements by placing his hands on your hips, his cock now semi-hard. you snorted squeezing your fingers around the handle of the bat, it’s hard now to ignore the growing need between your thighs. “center the hole and i’ll take care of it or keep snorting and not focusing and we’re gonna stay here all day until you make it ” he warned you, his voice was serious and you knew that if he wanted he would’ve keep you in this exact position all day, even ignoring his growing bulge.

you decided to listen to him. you took a deep breath while slowly repeating the action of a few minutes ago, hitting the small white ball with a sharp blow, both you and rafe stared carefully at the ball that was sliding quickly on the lawn, hoping that it would end up inside the hole.

and so it was.

a smile grew on your face as you turned towards him with a small jump, “that was perfect angel, wasn’t that difficult right?” he said putting a hand around your waist, pushing you towards him. “right” you said wrapping your arms around his neck, his soft lips finally on yours in a sweet kiss, but this cute moment was soon put aside by your hand that rested on his, carrying it between your legs, his fingers came into contact with the wetness of your underwear.

“s’all you were thinking about when I was teaching you how to play?” he said with a smirk, his voice hoarse as he met your gaze, your eyes innocent as you shrugged your shoulders unable to hide your smile.

“let’s go take care of this, we gonna try again another time” he said giving you a little slap on the ass, you gave him a kiss on the cheek as you rolled your eyes jokingly at his determination to continue with these “lessons”.

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, katsuki/reader are friends w/ benefits, they are not officially dating, pro hero!katsuki, hickies/bruises/mentions of burn marks, swearing, orgasm denial, inappropriate quirk usage, katsuki’s bad at feelings, katsuki is unreasonably jealous, erm.. light?? blood kink, it’s soft at the end though, happy kinktober everyone GENRE: SMUT & FLUFF SUMMARY: katsuki doesn’t approve of the way shouto was looking at you—even though you’re both single and he has no real claim over you. WORD COUNT: 2.7K 🦊’s A/N: i can’t believe i’m the opening act but here we are; i rlly hope you guys enjoy what we have lined up for y’all :3

     katsuki bakugou is mean and rude, possessive and somewhat controlling, and an arrogant bitch. whatever he wanted, he got; whenever something was his, everybody would be sure to know it. this, of course, translated a little too naturally into his sex life. 

     and when it came to you? god have mercy.

     “shit–! katsuki!” you whine as he bites cruelly at the tender skin of your inner thighs before sucking over the spot, making sure his teeth grazed over the sensitive, heated flesh. 

     “huh?” though on the quieter side, his voice was just as gruff as it always was. 

     “please—!” is all you’re able to breath out as the large, calloused hands forcing your legs apart begin to spark, and—ow! fuck! “katsu! what the fuck is wrong with you!?” 

     “tch, like you don’t know,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. surely you were just playing dumb. there was no way you didn’t know what the fucking problem was. he thinks back to your little conversation with shouto earlier—where that icyhot bastard practically eyefucked you the entire time (he had not, actually; it was just katsuki’s awful, Awful jealousy and insecurities flaring up despite you two not even being an item). 

     all you knew, though, was that he had been like this all damn night! biting you all over your flushed body — absolutely nowhere was safe from his teeth; your neck and throat, chest and midriff—hell, he even managed to leave hickies along your ribcage for christ’s sake!—and now, he was working on your thighs. 

     but if all that wasn’t already enough, his hands had occupied your hips most of the time as his quirk popped off repeatedly as his grip only tightened, not only leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, but also scorch marks on the flares of your hips. 

     “i don’t!” you protest in vain. in your mind, your conversation with shouto hadn’t crossed your mind—so the idea that katuski might be jealous? didn’t even register. 

     “yeah, right,” he barks out a laugh before diving back between your legs, burying his face into the fat of your thighs, where he sucked at the horribly sensitive skin there. and when you tried to close your legs around his head? he used his fucking quirk to keep them spread!

     his sweaty palms had no problem with igniting small scale explosions against your heated and tender flesh, leaving behind little burn marks in their wake.

     “god—dammit, katsuki!” you wail as his mouth gets dangerously close to your cunt, just to avoid it all together. “please—just! what's wrong?!” it's all you can do to choke back frustrated tears as your fuck buddy goes about leaving his physical claim on you—while leaving you all hot and bothered in the process. 

     “nothing's wrong, bitch—” his voice is strained and he sounds…… almost emotional? oh shit, was something seriously the matter? 

     in attempt to check up on him, one of your hands comes up to tug lightly at his spiky hair so he’ll look at you, but instead, he snatches your wrist up tightly, so hard you swear there’ll be bruises soon, as he looks up at you with narrowed, fiery eyes—they seemed…. glossier than they typically were; not that he looked like he was on the verge of tears or anything, but more so that he looked visibly distraught. 

     “keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” he spits out, his significantly larger hand sparking and popping around your poor wrist, and you can’t help but let out a yelp. 

     your faux concern was starting to piss katsuki off, and he physically can’t help the way his brows twitch and furrow in anger. there was no way you were really this dumb? (hey, einstein, maybe just, and here's an idea: tell them directly!) with a snarl, he bares his teeth (like a goddamn dog) and bites down harshly against the skin of your upper inner thigh, and he only bites down harder when you squeal and yell out his name, trying to free your wrist from his bruisingly tight grip. 

     in a desperate attempt to get him to calm down, you meekly choke out an apology—you didn’t know what you were sorry for, but you prayed it would be enough for bakugou to quit seething and just focus on something other than his anger.

     “‘ll show you sorry,” he grunts, picking a new spot on the fatty flesh of your thighs to bite down on—this time, a few tears manage to slide down your cheeks as he bites so hard, you swear to god you felt the skin tear. 

     “ow–! katsu–ki! jesus christ!” your free hand now comes down to try and push his head away from in between your legs as you squirm uncomfortably on the bed. your efforts are in vain, however, as he begins sucking against the freshly marred skin, sloppily laving his tongue over the spot so he could lick up the blood he had, in fact, drawn. “‘m sorry—whatever i did, i'm sorry!” you cry out pathetically, causing katsuki to pause in his actions as his eyes flit upwards to meet your glassy ones.

     “that's funny, you don't look very sorry,” he comments gruffly, the hand still placed on your thigh suddenly begins to pop off and spark against your reddened flesh.

     “nngh–! fuck’s sake! what has gotten into you!?”  

     “nothing, i told you already,” he grunts out, the corner of his lips twitching in annoyance as he looks up at you, and suddenly humping the mattress while he lays between your thighs isn’t enough for him. 

     before you have time to question him again, he had already moved so he was hovering over you as he had been at the beginning of your little rendezvous, and after releasing your wrist, he uses one hand to support himself while the other tugs his all too tight boxer briefs down enough for his almost painfully hard cock to spring free. and in one swift movement, he gathers both your wrists in one large hand before pinning them above your head while his free hand grabs his dick to line it up with your embarrassingly wet slit, barely getting the tip in before he just has to bottom out entirely—right up to the base as he lets out a groan louder than he’d meant to. it wasn’t like it was his fault, though! you just felt soooo good; how was he supposed to keep his cool? (not that he kept it in any other aspect of his life……)

     “aa–aah! nngh–! fuck! katsuki! you—mmfgh!” your words are cut off by a kiss, however, and your eyes widen at the sudden feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours and your wrists struggle in his horribly tight grip, unsure of how to react — you had both agreed on no kissing when originally setting up boundaries during sex! truthfully, you didn’t think it would have lasted as long as it had — as you had almost kissed him several times prior, but always caught yourself before you had the chance to make a fool out of yourself — but you never would have thought katsuki would be the one to break that rule! ?!?!

     arching your back as he begins to thrust his hips, slowly at first, before quickly picking up the pace, you reluctantly give in to the kiss as your chest presses against his. 

     katsuki, meanwhile, was buzzing with too many unfamiliar emotions to process — it wasn’t that he was a simple man per se, far from it, in fact, but his primary emotion was anger, and was one of the few ways he knew how to express himself. now, though, he finds himself in highly unfamiliar territory as his heart hammers in his chest; the last time he had been this genuinely scared was the time he had been kidnapped by the league of villains, and even then, he thinks he prefers it to the way he felt right now. the fear of rejection absolutely plagued his mind the moment his lips had crashed against yours, but it was way too fuckin’ late to change that now, so instead, he doubles down and allows his tongue to slip out and slide over the seam of your lips before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nips at it hard enough to draw the smallest bit of blood. 

     “nngh–!” you had no clue what the hell was wrong with katsuki until he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and, for the first time in. …? as long as you can recall, he looks so…… vulnerable, like he was scared (and he was!), and for some reason, that just broke your heart.

    “just talk to me, katsuki,” you say softly, tongue flicking over your slightly bloody lip as you look up at him through thick, tear-dampened eyelashes. before you two were fuck buddies, you had managed to become good friends; given, the dynamic was a bit odd, as bakugou was not known for being a “friendly” person, let alone perceived as sociable, but. here he was! balls deep in his best friend, whom he wanted all to himself without even realizing until, well, just now, really.

     “i don’t want you talking to that icyhot bastard ever again,” he finally spits out, voice nearly cracking. he keeps his shit together, though, as he continues to fuck you like he hates your guts. “you’re mine, got it?” his cheeks are flushed red (a rare sight) as he pants heavily from on top of you, embarrassed by his own words, even though you obviously needed to hear them in order to remember who you belong to. …even though the two of you never disclosed the other couldn’t fuck anyone else; even though you were fully free to decide who you wanted to suck, lick, n fuck, katsuki hopes—silently prays, even—that you’d decide he was the only one you needed. 

     “what?” your eyes fly open at his words and your body freezes beneath him. “ka–katsuki, ‘m not yours—” he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces before you’re even done speaking, and he has to bite his tongue from lashing out. “we’re not even dating! y–you can’t be possessive over s–somethin’ that’s not— not even yours!” you try to reprimand him until you see the look that came over his face—the way his pouty lips tug into a deep frown and brows furrowed lightly, not out of anger but, rather, confusion—and suddenly you can’t bring yourself to scold him anymore. seeing katsuki, someone usually so outwardly hardened and tough, look this pitiful….. well, it made your heart ache, and your own expression softens as his pace subconsciously slows down as he waits with bated breath until you’re done talking.

     “oh, katsuki,” you sigh deeply, rolling your hips gently upwards to meet his as you look up at him with watery eyes. “you’re such an idiot,” you can’t help but giggle as you crane your head upwards in an attempt to kiss him once again — what the unfortunate blond hadn’t realized is that you had been in love with him within the first year of knowing him. 

     “huh?!” is his immediate response before you had leaned in for a kiss, and suddenly the dots click. he easily closes the distance between the two of you (not that there was much to begin with), and kisses you a little more softly this time, a little less angrily. 

     after a very heated moment, katsuki slowly pulls away and looks at you sincerely — his heart not quite on his sleeve, but as close to that as he’s ever been, ready to shut down at the first sight of genuine rejection; but before he gets the chance to stew on the thought any harder, you break him out of his headspace by saying exactly what he needed to hear.

     “there’s nothing going on between shouto and i—in fact, i haven’t even dated anyone in years because of you,” you tell him, wrists straining against his grip again and, this time, he gets the cue and gently releases them so you can tenderly cup his face and bring him in for another kiss. carefully moving your lips against his, you moan softly, asking for him to start fucking you again, and he happily obliges, with a renewed confidence at your admission. 

     katsuki really does feel like an idiot as his hips roll against yours, fucking you with a different kind of resolve this time.

     “‘ve been in love with you since our second year of high school,” you confess, a little quietly. it doesn’t go unheard by katsuki, however, and a smirk stretches across his face as he quirks an eyebrow up at you. you two had only started hooking up once he had gone pro and desperately needed an outlet for his stress.

     bakugou finds himself rendered speechless for once in his loud-mouthed life and he isn’t quite sure how to process your words. he believed you, mostly, but……. it was just very difficult to believe because….. well, why wouldn’t you want todoroki over him? it seems like the obvious choice, no? and yet…. here the two of you are, bodies sweaty and entwined as you both pant in attempt to catch your breaths, and you move to wrap your arms around his neck when you notice that faraway look in his eyes coming back—falling victim to his own mind once more.

     “‘m serious, kats,” you say sternly, brows furrowing as you move your sore legs to wrap around his narrow waist, crossing them at the ankle and pull his hips flush against yours. “mmh,” your heart is hammering at what you’re about to say, but you’ve already come this far. “i love you, katsuki bakugou,” you say softly, threading your fingers through his unnaturally spiky blond locks as you look up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes.

     katsuki’s eyes widen considerably at your words, and instead of bringing himself to choke out an i love you too, he kisses you deeply and shallowly thrusts his hips against yours as his tongue easily slides into your already parted lips, already having prepared yourself to not receive a verbal answer from katsuki. you knew he was absolutely god fucking awful at words, and you didn’t exactly expect him to reciprocate your feelings.

     in your mind, he only picked you as his fuck buddy because he had known you too long and he wasn’t the type to fuck strangers, when in reality it was because katsuki was disgustingly in love with you, not that he had realized that prior to now—your words had awoken something in him and it feels so unfamiliar, and the unfamiliarity is what causes him to almost fumble you—almost, he has enough sense about him to mumble the quietest, raspiest, aggressive i guess i love…. he chokes on the word itself, never actually having had said it before—ever?—but manages to spit it the fuck out so he doesn’t lose the best friend—and pussy—he’s ever had. he sounds confused when he says finally manages to say an i love you, too but the fact that he even brought himself to say something so inherently soft and vulnerable (even if his tone wasn’t) cause your eyes to fly open in raw shock and disbelief, fully unable to believe your ears. 

     “you—you do?” no. there was no way he had just said that!

     “don’t make a big deal out of it, and don’t expect to f'me to say it again anytime soon, y’hear?” he replies, face beet fuckin’ red, blush having spread all the way up to his ears as he moves to bury his face in the crook of your neck to hide it away from your view, where he began to nip and suck at the skin there again, only adding to the collection of hickies he had already left. ah, there’s the katsuki you fell in love with.

     you smile at his words regardless of how gruff he sounded about it, heart (and cunt) so, so full and content, your grin stretching across your face until your cheeks hurt, and you can’t help but giggle quietly as he continues to mark you up, hips moving slowly, but each thrust hitting deep, the thick tip of his dick threatening to kiss up against your cervix if he went any deeper.��

     you would have to have a discussion with him about what you two were after this, but for now, you arch your back and close your eyes as you enjoy the feel of his lips against your skin and the way his thick cock stretches you out so deliciously.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

wanna kiss his face with an uppercut

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — rafe is back to being a softie, talks of explicit picture

summary — rafe wants to know why you’ve been ignoring him.

authors note — this can be read as a standalone but is a continuation of that recent part in my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. olease request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” he mumbled, sitting all tense on the sofa across from you in the living room of your house. “i’ve called and texted hundreds of times and you jus’ haven’t returned any of ‘em.”

you just shrugged and tucked yourself further into your blanket. “been busy. haven’t had the chance,” you replied bluntly. it wasn’t necessarily a lie. the only thing you were busy with though was sleeping and thinking about your relationship and whether or not it was worth the pain.

he looked slightly taken back. “busy with what? you don’t leave the house. your car hasn’t even moved.” if you didn’t hear the slight whine in his voice, you would’ve though he meant it in an aggressive manner. instead, he sounded genuinely curious.

“i have stuff to do around the house, schoolwork, i have to car for kiwi,” you listed. college was hard and even harder with a relationship. and your dog kiwi wasn’t exactly low maintenance. she needed a walk everyday, special meals for her specific diet, and pampering.

he leaned back in his seat and spread his legs to get comfortable while crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you. “why didn’t you ask for my help? you know kiwi loves me. i coulda helped out with her or helped with the house. y’know i have before, right?”

you simply shrugged again. “i can handle myself,” you said dismissively.

“yeah, i know you can but you don’t need to. y’know i’m always here,” he said as if it were obvious. “did i do somethin’ wrong? why are you suddenly bein’ so cold with me outta nowhere?”

you rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh of frustration. “are you fucking kidding me rafe? ‘did i do something wrong?’ you know exactly what you did,” you snapped sharply at him. “what do you think of me? because you clearly don’t respect me.”

a crease formed between his eyebrows as he stared at you. “what?” his voice was much smaller now. maybe it was the fact that yours was louder and he’d never heard you raise your voice, especially at him.

“don’t act all stupid with me. you don’t get to just go around showing your friends vulnerable pictures of me and basically tell them that i’m so easy and i just do whatever the fuck you say,” you spat. “i’m not your bitch and i’m sure as hell not someone you’re gonna boss around and walk all over. that little comment about me begging for a chance? seriously? i didn’t know you saw our relationship as a power play for you.”

you could see tears forming in his eyes. you’d never seen him get this upset over something. “baby, i didn’t—i didn’t think—“ he began to stutter over his words before just stopping all together.

“i have too much respect for myself to let someone talk to me like that,” you said, your voice much quieter now but still nowhere near gentle. you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose to try to relieve the pressure forming into a headache. “i don’t know if we should do this anymore, rafe.”

his head immediately snapped up as his teary gaze met yours and his wet cheeks glistened under the light. “no. no, don’t do that. please baby, don’t say that,” he pleaded desperately. he stood from his seat and took eager strides to where you were sitting. he kneeled down in front of you and gently took your hands in his own. “please jus’ work this out with me, angel. i don’t wanna lose you. i can’t. i’ll do whatever it takes, jus’ don’t leave me.”

you bit your lip and shook your head. “i can’t keep letting myself get disrespected. what you said—what you did, was absolutely insane. i would’ve never in my entire life thought to say that to someone, let alone someone i love. that was just cruel and it hurt my feelings. you didn’t even acknowledge that.”

“please angel, jus’ one more shot, okay?” he reasoned softly, fresh tears falling. he’d never had someone confront him like this besides his dad. “i’m sorry for bein’ so mean the other day. i know i was rude and all but i was havin’ a bad day and that’s not an excuse but you know its hard for me to control sometimes. once again, not an excuse but i jus’ let my anger get out of hand and i swear to be better about it.”

you looked to the side to avoid looking at him while thinking carefully bout your next words. “you don’t get it. you say all this stuff and i want to believe you but i’m not even sure thats possible after what you said the other day.”

he nodded in agreement. “i understand that and i know that things won’t just go back to normal. i’m not asking you to do that. i’m just asking that you try to work things out with me. give me time to prove to you that i can be better and i promise you, you won’t regret it.”

you knew it was a bad idea. you could feel it in your bones but the bigger part of you wanted to hold him and tell him things would be okay. you wanted to wipe his pretty tears and kiss his pink lips. it was terrifying. “one last shot rafe. i’m giving you one more try and thats it. you’re not jus’ gonna keep hurting me and expecting me to forgive you and have sex. thats not how this works. i don’t deserve that.”

“no, you deserve the world,” he whispered softly as his lip began to tremble. a sad smile graced his lips before he was laying kisses to your knuckle. “i promise i’ll be so much better baby. i swear on my life.”

you really did hope he was serious this time.

[parfaitblogs]

daylight ❀ s. reid x reader

in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!

Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 

A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 

He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 

He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 

And he knew that.

You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 

"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 

"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 

Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 

"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."

He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."

Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."

"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."

"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.

He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 

"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 

"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."

You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 

"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 

"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."

"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 

"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."

You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.

"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"

On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 

"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 

"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 

"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 

"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."

"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 

"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"

"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."

You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 

"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."

"I don't know..."

"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."

"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 

"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."

A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."

"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.

His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 

"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.

"For what?"

"Crying."

"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 

"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 

"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 

"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."

He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."

"I know things," you grinned. 

"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."

"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."

"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.

"You really want to know?" 

You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 

And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.

And it dried your tears up.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[mwagneto]

hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator

🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow

not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option

🪺 magánügyek Follow

tengri forbid women do anything???

735 notes

🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.

8,572 notes

🐎 istván-rovására Follow

that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧

481 notes

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG

✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow

love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????

#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse

3,264 notes

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3

🏇 attila-népe Follow

cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you

🧺 lemezelő Follow

isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????

🏇 attila-népe Follow

you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)

🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow

Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

what the fuck happened to my post

19,276 notes

🪔 rakabonciás Follow

for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.

🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep

anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!

646 notes

🛐 mea-culpa Follow

It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp

#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse

198 notes

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

WRONG BLOG

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS

🪺 magánügyek Follow

ISTVÁN????????????? 💀

[cutehoons02]

My favorite patient

*pairing: popular pervy hybrid husky Jay x vet Girl

*trope: opposite attraction

*synopsis: Jay is a Siberian Husky hybrid, an "alpha" of his family, but something strange is happening: at 22, he has never experienced heat. Despite his dominant nature and the affection he has for those close to him, his body seems to be somehow "stuck." After a chance encounter with Y/n, a young veterinary student specializing in hybrids, Jay realizes that there is something unexpectedly binding him to her. As Y/n helps him uncover what is happening, the two find themselves facing the growing attraction between them, filled with tension and misunderstandings.

*tags: Jay is a husky hybrid, lots of tension, Jay will have his first heat, needy Jay, touchy Jay and protagonist, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) normal sexy-doggy sex, love to tease, funny, pet names (little vet,noona)

13.5k (🐺)

(English is not my native language)

It’s when instinct takes over, and the body prepares to find a mate for reproduction. Every hybrid, whether a wolf, a cat, or another species, experiences this physical and mental process. For Jay, a Siberian Husky hybrid, heat is a rite everyone seems to experience, but at 22 years old, he has never felt it. It’s strange, and abnormal, making him different even from his younger friends, who, in some way, seem to have already gone through it.

Jay was born into a family of highly influential and respected hybrids in the hybrid world, and his blood is considered extraordinarily valuable. It’s not just physical; his personality also makes him a dominant figure: affectionate, yet stubborn and independent. His Husky appearance is imposing, with thick fur and penetrating eyes, but when he transforms into a human, his charm and presence are impossible to ignore. He’s always believed that he should follow his instincts, but the fact that he has never experienced heat torments him.

It was a quiet day at the university. The sun was shining warmly on the crowded student-filled streets, and the atmosphere had that lively springtime feeling. Jay walked confidently between the classrooms, but something was off. He had just finished a meeting with his closest friends, and the conversation, as usual, had taken a turn that made him shake his head.

-Jay, buddy, you need to go to the clinic. I’ve been telling you for months!"- Hee, a fawn hybrid, looked at him with a fond but concerned smile. -It’s not possible that you, the alpha, have never gone through heat. We’re all waiting for you, but something’s not right.-

Jay raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and distrust.

'But is there something wrong with me, guys? I don’t need any clinic for... for that.'

Jake, a golden retriever hybrid with brown hair and soft ears sticking out from his head, looked at him with a playful smile. "Hey, man, we’re not saying you’re broken! It’s just that you’re the only one who hasn’t gone through heat yet. We’re starting to worry about you."

Jay took a step back, crossing his arms with an amused yet slightly irritated look. 'So what? It’s not a big deal, is it?'

"Jay, stop acting tough," Jake, the golden retriever hybrid who, despite his sunny and friendly nature, knew when to be serious, intervened. "You’re the only one who hasn’t had it. Naturally, we’re worried. Even I, being a dog, went through it a long time ago."

'That’s exactly why I can’t take it too seriously,' Jay replied, grimacing. "You dogs and fawns... you get worked up over nothing!"

Hee laughed, shaking his head with his characteristic smile. -Us 'canines' and 'fawns' are just worried about you, buddy, that’s all. But by the way, I talked to someone who might help you.-

Jay looked at him, intrigued but still skeptical. 'And who would that be?'

-Y/N,- Hee replied confidently. -She’s a friend of mine, who works at the university clinic. Let me tell you, she’s saved me a bunch of times when I was getting into trouble as a kid. She’s great, and she’s not just a student. She knows her stuff. She’ll help you.-

Jay scrutinized Hee, nodding but not convinced. 'A newly graduated girl who’s still studying, huh? And I’m supposed to let her touch me?'

-Jay, she’s a professional. She’s not just some 'girl.' I assure you, she’s prepared, and she’ll make you feel comfortable. Why don’t you at least try? You won’t lose anything.-

'If she tells me 'calm down' even once, I swear I won’t set foot in a clinic again,' Jay replied, laughing but with a hint of doubt. His alpha hybrid nature made him resistant to depending on anyone, especially if it was a young girl wanting to 'treat' or help him.

"Hee’s right, Jay," Jake added, always with his cheerful but sincere tone. "She’s good, I’m telling you. We’re all a little nervous about going to someone unknown, but if there’s a chance to fix this thing... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad."

'Alright, alright,' Jay said, raising his hands in surrender. 'I’ll go, but I don’t promise I won’t run off immediately.'

Hee laughed heartily and then gave him a friendly shove. -You’ll see, you won’t run away. Y/N is kind, and she knows how to deal with hybrids like you.-

Jay knew his friends just wanted to help him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of resistance. He didn’t like the idea of being examined, especially by someone he didn’t know well. But the thought of finally being free from the discomfort he felt inside made him pause.

With one last resigned sigh, he said, 'Fine. Let’s see what this Y/N can do.'

You had been working at the university's veterinary clinic for a couple of months now, and, unfortunately, you knew that working with hybrids was never monotonous. Your love for the profession made it easy to forget the difficulties you might encounter. Hybrids had unpredictable behaviors, and while most were well-behaved, there were always those who gave you a headache. Today, you had no idea that the visit you were about to handle would be one of the most difficult of all.

The red light came on suddenly, signaling that someone was in the waiting room. As you stepped out, your eyes were immediately drawn to two figures sitting there. One of them you knew very well, perhaps too well. Heeseung, a fawn hybrid, was staring at you with his cheeky grin, while the other guy beside him, with a dominant appearance, was a Siberian Husky hybrid. Jay, you thought immediately.

-Y/N!- Heeseung raised his hand, greeting you with an amused look. -I hope I didn’t put you in a difficult spot with this guy,- he said, gesturing to Jay with a friendly but slightly provocative motion.

"You never put me in a difficult spot, Heeseung," you replied, though your tone was curt, almost impassive. Not that you didn’t like working with Heeseung, but by now you knew his unpredictable nature. He was always looking for trouble, and you had learned not to fall for it anymore.

Heeseung smiled, his fawn side showing in every movement.

-You see, the problem isn’t mine this time,- he said with one eye gleaming mischievously. -Him,- he indicated Jay, -is the only one who needs you.-

When you looked at him, you immediately understood there was something different about him.

Jay was sitting, arms crossed, with an expression of someone waiting to see what would happen, but his posture, and his aura, were different from those of other hybrids you had seen. There was a hardness, an intensity that didn’t escape you.

Jay’s amber eyes slowly lifted to meet yours. His gaze was so intense it made your blood freeze. His jaw, visibly sharp, looked ready to snap at any moment, and his husky hybrid posture made you feel his silent strength.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you asked with a firm tone, trying to keep control.

'I need a check-up,' he replied, but his tone left little room for further conversation. His voice was deep, but there was a tension in it you couldn’t ignore.

Then, you looked at him more closely. There was something wrong with him, something that sent a chill down your spine. His gaze didn’t waver for even a second, as if he was studying every move you made. The impression he gave was that of a hybrid who didn’t want to be treated by anyone but at the same time couldn’t help but seek answers. His aura was so imposing that it almost felt tangible, a primal force that didn’t hide its power.

Despite everything, you answered in your usual professional tone, trying to mask the growing tension inside you: "What brings you to the clinic? You don’t look like the type to seek help."

Jay huffed, then made a small gesture with his hand, as if saying he didn’t want to talk about it. 'I’m here only because Heeseung practically forced me.'

Heeseung chuckled, knowing well how it would play out. -That’s not true,- he said with an affectionate smile, but with a hint of sarcasm. -I didn’t exactly force you, but you know that when things aren’t going right, we have to intervene. So, Y/N will do her job and help you.-

Jay didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be there, but you didn’t have time to ask why. Heeseung and Jake had always been a bit of a "trouble" team to handle, but now the situation was a bit more complicated with Jay. It was hard to tell what was beneath the surface with that guy.

"Alright, let’s go," you said, trying to keep calm. You turned toward Jay, but before entering the room, his gaze followed you for a second longer. His eyes seemed to want to dig into you, to read every part of you, as if searching for something that hadn’t been revealed yet.

Then, as if it wasn’t enough, Jay gave a nearly imperceptible smile, but it seemed more like a challenge. His gaze became even more penetrating, and suddenly, you felt a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t tell if it was a threat or attraction, but that moment made you realize he wouldn’t be an easy case to handle.

When you entered the room with Jay, you felt strangely nervous, as if he were an enigma you needed to solve at all costs. The tension in the air was palpable, but you were determined. It was your job. But you knew this visit wouldn’t be like any other.

The tension in the air was palpable, but your instinct as a veterinarian specialized in hybrids always kept you calm, even with the most... complicated patients. You turned toward Jay with a gentle smile, trying to ease some of the charged atmosphere.

"Could you pass me your dog tag?" you asked kindly.

Jay shot you a penetrating glance as if trying to read your every intention before making a move. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the dog tag, handing it to you without saying a word.

As you took it, you glanced at the details and couldn't hold back a small comment. "Wow, you're a purebred? I don't see many of those around. It's quite rare."

Heeseung, always eager to jump into the conversation with his light tone, chuckled and added with a grin: -Oh, Jay is one of a kind, believe me.-

Jay suddenly turned toward him and shot him a commanding glare.

"Shut up, Heeseung." His voice was firm and deep, with that alpha tone that left no room for discussion.

However, you were already used to the attitudes of dominant hybrids and continued entering his data into the system without being intimidated. After a few seconds, you looked up and stared at him intently.

"So, tell me, what’s wrong?"

For the first time, Heeseung said nothing. The talkative guy, the one who loved to tease Jay, was completely silent. That was the first sign that something serious was going on.

Jay cleared his throat, his gaze briefly avoiding yours. Then, his cheeks flushed slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but you, with your trained eye, noticed it right away.

After a long silence, Jay finally spoke, his tone authoritative but slightly stiff: "I've never had a heat."

There was a brief moment of silence, then you widened your eyes in surprise. "Never?"

It was rare. No, more than rare, it was almost impossible. Hybrids, especially those with a purebred lineage like his, usually had their first heat quite early. Yet he, a twenty-two-year-old Husky, had never experienced a single sign of heat.

Jay immediately furrowed his brows, his eyes darkening with irritation. "Are you deaf or something? I said never."

His harsh tone didn't escape you, but instead of getting annoyed, you decided to handle it the right way. You knew hybrids well, and you understood how sensitive they could be about their insecurities.

"Oh, sorry," you responded with a slight, challenging smile, tilting your head just a little. "Usually, when a patient tells me something so absurd, I always ask for confirmation. But if you're sure..."

Heeseung barely suppressed a laugh and gave you a knowing look, while Jay stared at you as if trying to figure out whether you were teasing him or not.

-Jay, calm down,- Heeseung intervened, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "It's fine, that's why we're here. She can help you."

Jay huffed, crossing his arms again. "I shouldn't even be here."

At that point, his gaze returned to you, more intense than before. He was staring at you with that penetrating look, almost challenging you to say something wrong.

But you didn’t look away. "I won’t make you feel uncomfortable, Jay." Your tone was firm and sincere. "My job is to help you, not to embarrass you."

For a moment, his gaze softened, even if only for a fraction of a second. Then he gave a slight nod as if reluctantly accepting the situation.

You already knew he wouldn't be an easy patient. But there was something about him that intrigued you, something that made you want to uncover the mystery behind his problem.

He relaxed slightly in his chair, stretching his legs with an almost bored air, but his eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence and something more playful. His tail, which had remained still until a moment ago, began to move slowly, almost imperceptibly, behind him.

"Before we start the check-up, I need to ask you a few personal questions."

Jay raised an eyebrow and ran a hand through his silver hair with a nonchalant air. "Personal questions, huh?" His tone was filled with a subtle irony. "Alright, let’s see how far you’ll go."

You glanced at Heeseung, who nodded with an amused smile.

-I’ll wait outside, Jay. And try not to scare Y/N too much, okay?-

Jay growled low, just enough for him to understand that he didn’t appreciate the comment. "Get out of here, Bambi."

You chuckled softly as Heeseung left. "You two are quite the odd pair."

"Oh?" Jay tilted his head slightly, his gaze full of challenge. "You find it strange that an alpha Husky and a deer get along?"

"I find it stranger that a deer manages to keep you in check." You smiled, crossing your arms.

Jay stared at you with a half-smile, his tail flicking slightly to the side. "We’ll see if you can handle me, little vet."

You ignored the provocation and started with the questions.

"Have you ever been attracted to someone? And if so, what type of people do you like? Do you prefer hybrids, purebreds, or humans?"

Jay licked his lower lip and answered casually, "I’ve never had specific preferences. Hybrids have their charm, but humans… they have something different. A particular scent."

"A particular scent?" you repeated, curious.

Jay leaned back in his chair, watching you closely. "Hybrids tend to have very strong scents, loaded with pheromones. But humans? Sometimes their scent is more subtle, more intriguing. It’s something that teases."

You nodded, jotting down his answer. "And what about your parents? How old were they when they had their first heat, and when did they mate?"

Jay sighed, clearly not thrilled by the question.

"My father was eighteen, my mother seventeen. They mated shortly after."

You bit your lip, thinking. "And you, at twenty-two?"

Jay shot you an intense look, a crooked smile on his lips. "You’re enjoying reminding me of that, aren’t you?"

"It’s a medical matter, Jay." You gave him a playful glance. "But let’s move on to a slightly more personal question."

"More personal than knowing when my parents had sex?"

You laughed softly. "Oh yes. Much more personal."

Jay raised an eyebrow, his tail now moving slightly faster. "Let’s see what you’ve got for me."

You cleared your throat and looked at him innocently. "Have you ever had sexual desires?"

There was a brief silence, then a low growl echoed in the room. Jay leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Do you think I’m some sort of saint? Of course I have sexual desires."

You simply smiled. "You’ve never had heat, so I have to ask. It’s my job."

Jay shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement mixed with provocation. "I’ve never had heat, but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin."

That answer surprised you a bit, but you didn’t show it. "Oh?"

"I’ve never found a girl with a scent that drove me crazy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have fun."

You bit your lower lip, intrigued. "Interesting."

Jay smiled, his eyes darkening. "What else do you want to know, doctor?"

"What are your desires?"

Jay stayed silent for a few seconds, his gaze growing more intense. "You’re crossing the line."

"No, I’m just following the guidelines of the psychologists and doctors who work with hybrids." You lifted your tablet and showed him the sheet with the question written in black and white. "See? Nothing personal."

Jay suppressed a small smile. "Okay, you want to know?"

You nodded, pretending to be innocent.

Jay ran a hand through his hair, then spoke in a lower voice. "A lot of times I get excited thinking about filling up a human."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried not to let it show. "Filling up?" you repeated, pretending not to understand.

Jay chuckled softly, tilting his head. "Oh, you understood perfectly, little vet."

Heat crept up your cheeks, but you kept your professional demeanor. "Go on."

Jay stretched slightly, his tail now wagging at a slow, controlled rhythm. "I like being touched. Especially my tail."

You tilted your head, taking notes. "The tail? That’s a very sensitive area for canine hybrids, makes sense."

"Not just for that." Jay smiled mischievously.

You ignored the provocation and continued. "Do you prefer to dominate or be dominated?"

Jay licked his lower lip. "I like to dominate. But only with a girl who knows her place and, at the same time, knows how to challenge me."

"Interesting," you murmured, noting everything down.

Then you looked up again. "Preferred position?"

Jay smirked, tilting his head to the side. "Doggy style."

There was a moment of silence, then you burst out laughing. "I should’ve known."

"What can I say, I’m a Husky." Jay shrugged with a satisfied smile.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to maintain composure. "Okay, I think we can call it a day with the questions."

Jay stretched, his gaze still fixed on you. "Did you have fun?"

"Enough." You gave him a playful glance. "But now comes the most fun part."

"Oh?"

"The check-up." You smiled at him, while he stared at you with an intensity that sent chills down your spine.

"Lie down on the examination table." Your tone was professional, but you couldn’t deny that Jay had a commanding presence.

He sighed but stood up without arguing much. He slowly took off his shirt, letting the fabric slide off and reveal golden skin, well-defined muscles, and a V-line that disappeared under his pants. A trail of fine hairs ran below his belly button, and your gaze lingered on it for a fraction of a second before Jay noticed.

"What’s the matter, little vet? Never seen a body like mine?" he smirked, his tone full of mischief.

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. "You’ll be disappointed, but I’ve seen hundreds of hybrids. There’s nothing special about you."

Jay smiled, but his tail twitched slightly, indicating that your response had dealt a small blow to his pride. "We’ll see."

You approached with the tablet and gloves, starting the check-up. First, his ears. "I’m just measuring, try to stay still."

You gently placed your fingers on his thick husky ears, and immediately a low growl resonated in Jay’s chest. It was a mix of a warning and an involuntary sound. "Strange, usually hybrids with such thick ears aren’t so sensitive."

"I’m not like the others," Jay mumbled, watching you from under his lashes.

You nodded and noted on the tablet that the measurements were perfect. "Lift your tail, I need to measure it."

Jay gave you an amused look. "If you wanted to touch it, you could’ve just asked."

You laughed with a sigh. "God, you’re unbearable."

"And you’re cute when you blush."

You ignored the comment and gently grabbed his tail to measure it. As soon as your fingers brushed it, you felt a slight muscular twitch in his body, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips. It almost sounded like… a grunt of pleasure?

Jay immediately stiffened, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at you in surprise. "What was that?" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. "You’re probably more sensitive than I thought. Nothing to be ashamed of, some hybrids are like that."

He continued to stare at you, then relaxed and sighed. "Bullshit."

You continued the exam, ignoring the way Jay was now looking at you, as if you’d suddenly become more interesting.

"Now take some deep breaths, I need to check your lungs."

You placed the stethoscope on his chest, and he obeyed, inhaling and exhaling. Every reading was perfect. When you moved to check his heartbeat, everything was normal. "You seem to be in perfect health."

Jay furrowed his brows and sighed heavily. "Great." But his tone was far from happy.

"Shouldn’t you be happy about that?" you asked, tilting your head.

Jay stared at you with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. "It would’ve been better if you’d found something wrong."

"Why?"

He ran a hand through his silver hair and sighed again. "Because then I’d have had an excuse. But if I’m perfectly healthy, then it’s even more embarrassing that I’ve never had my first heat."

For a moment, you saw him genuinely vulnerable beneath his provocateur mask.

You stepped closer, giving his hand a gentle tap. "You know, Jay… You’re not broken. Sometimes the body has its own timing, especially for a purebred like you."

He looked at you for a moment, then his expression returned to its usual one—arrogant and self-assured. "And how do you know that?"

You smiled confidently. "Because it’s my job to know. And trust me, we’ll find a solution for you."

Jay licked his lips and shook his head. "You’re more stubborn than you seem."

"And you’re more sensitive than you want to admit," you retorted with a sweet smile.

Jay chuckled softly, his tail moving again. "We’ll see which one of us is right."

Let me know if you'd like any modifications or adjustments!

A week had passed since you first met Jay, and his situation continued to leave you puzzled. You had spent days studying tables, research, and case studies on Huskies, trying to figure out what could be unusual about him. Yet, the data was clear: all Huskies, especially purebred Alpha ones, experienced their first heat well before the age of 20.

But Jay, at 22, had nothing.

You had even asked for advice from your colleagues at the clinic, and they all suggested the same thing: to run specific blood tests, both normal and those to measure the percentages of knots and sexual hormone levels—testosterone, alpha pheromones, and specific receptors for the heat instinct.

And so, here you were, ready for round two with Jay.

Just as you were preparing everything, you heard the door open and a familiar scent of wood and moss mixed with sweat filled the air. You looked up just in time to see Jay enter, walking relaxed, his hair slightly damp and messy, showing that he had just taken a shower. He wore a slightly oversized gray hoodie over a pair of sweatpants and carried the baseball team’s bag, which he dropped beside the chair with a dull thud.

"Noona" His voice was a perfect mix of amusement and provocation as he leaned back into the chair with a half-satisfied grin.

You blinked for a second, surprised by the nickname, before pursing your lips into a thin line. "Excuse me, what?"

Jay chuckled, his tail wagging slightly. "Hee told me you're two years older than me. I thought it would be cute to call you that."

You shot him a glare, crossing your arms. "Cute for who? Not for me."

He shrugged with a sly smile. "Aww, Noona gets upset easily. What a shame, you look better when you smile."

"You’re unbearable," you sighed, ignoring the warmth rising to your cheeks. "Sit down and behave, we need to run some tests."

"Good boy?" Jay tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Noona, I don’t think I’ve ever been a good boy."

You rolled your eyes and handed him an elastic band. "Roll up your sleeve, we need to take your blood."

Jay did as you said, revealing a toned forearm, with veins visible beneath his golden skin. He relaxed into the chair, but his eyes never left you as you prepared.

"So, let me get this straight," he said with an ironic tone, "now I’m basically your personal experiment?"

You sighed, gently preparing his arm. "You’re not an experiment, Jay. It’s to understand what’s going on with your body."

"Oh? So, you’re interested in my body?"

You paused for a second, then poked a finger at his chest. "Stop turning everything to your advantage."

He laughed quietly, his chest vibrating under your touch. "I can’t help it, Noona. You’re so fun when you try to stand up to me."

Ignoring him, you expertly inserted the needle into his vein, noticing he didn’t flinch. "Good. Not afraid of needles, at least."

"Nope," Jay smiled, tilting his head. "Although... let’s just say I’d prefer to be touched by you in more interesting ways."

You stopped for a moment before giving him a sharp look. "Do you realize I’m literally drawing your blood? You’d be wiser not to get me annoyed."

Jay chuckled, but for the first time, he seemed a little uncomfortable. His gaze wandered around the room before returning to you. "Joking aside... do you have any idea what could be wrong with me?"

You bit your lip, watching the blood fill the vial. "We have to wait for the results. But, theoretically, it could be a genetic anomaly, an inherited factor, or… it could be that your body is simply waiting for a specific trigger to start the heat."

"A specific trigger?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

You shrugged. "A scent, a person, a particular situation… every hybrid is different. But it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing."

Jay nodded slowly, his usual grin replaced by a faint thoughtful expression. "And if it never happens?"

You looked at him for a moment, then lightly brushed his arm with a reassuring gesture. "Then we’ll find a solution together."

He lowered his gaze for a second, then smiled almost genuinely. "Okay, Noona. I’ll keep you updated."

You sighed, removing the needle and dabbing the area with a cotton ball. "And stop calling me Noona."

Jay shook his head, his tail wagging more forcefully. "Naaaah. I like seeing you irritated too much."

You covered your face with one hand while he laughed softly and adjusted his sleeve. "You’re the worst patient I’ve ever had."

"And you’re the most interesting doctor I’ve ever met."

You sat at your desk in the clinic, staring at the results of Jay’s tests with your eyebrows slightly furrowed. Everything was perfect: normal hormone levels, no deficiencies, no abnormalities. Yet, one thing immediately caught your eye: the value of his knot.

Too high.

It was a percentage typically seen only in hybrids who had already knotted several times… or in those who, despite having had relations, had never found their true mate. And Jay, apparently, fell into the second category.

So this was the problem.

Hybrids didn’t knot purely out of physical instinct; they needed an emotional connection and a scent that irresistibly drew them in. If Jay had never gone into heat, it meant his body hadn’t yet found that scent, that taste, that presence that would completely ignite him.

But when it happened...

It would explode.

His heat wouldn’t be like others, which lasted a few hours or, at most, a day. No, his body had accumulated years of repressed instincts, and once he found his “prey,” he wouldn’t settle for just once.

You sighed, closing the file and massaging your temples. And now, how were you going to tell him?

Another week had passed when Jay returned to the clinic.

You were busy with another patient when you smelled that familiar scent of wood and moss mixed with something stronger, warmer. Jay was there, leaning against the reception counter, the usual bored expression on his face but with something different this time.

He had one hand buried in his hair, his eyes slightly squinted as his chest rose and fell with slow breaths. His tail, usually wagging playfully, was now twitching erratically, almost as if it were... restless.

You didn’t pay much attention and called him into your office.

“Here’s my problematic patient,” you joked, crossing your arms as you watched him enter.

Jay lifted his gaze to meet yours, and this time, you really noticed. There was something strange in his eyes, a different gleam. And most of all, there was something strange about the way he looked at you.

Too intense. Too attentive.

He sat down in front of your desk, and you handed him the results. “Good news, you’re as healthy as a horse. But…”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “But?”

You sighed. “The value of your knot is unusually high. In simple terms, it means your body has been ready for a while, but your heat never triggered because you haven’t yet found a scent that attracts you enough.”

Jay remained silent for a moment, then rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “So… you’re telling me my body’s waiting for someone in particular?”

“Exactly.”

“And when I find them?” Jay leaned slightly forward, his silver eyes fixed on yours. “Will my heat explode?”

You swallowed, trying to stay calm in the face of his almost predatory gaze. “More or less, yes.”

Jay remained silent for a few seconds, then took a deep breath.

And that’s when something strange happened.

His eyes widened slightly, his tail tensed, and his breathing suddenly shifted rhythm.

You looked at him, confused. “Jay?”

He didn’t respond right away. He licked his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, then closed his eyes for a second, as if trying to focus on something.

“What scent are you wearing?” His voice was lower than usual, almost hoarse.

“Huh?” You blinked, surprised by the question. “I don’t wear anything special, why?”

Jay squinted, nervously licking his canine tooth, as though trying to hold something back. Then he shook his head as if to dispel the thought.

“Nothing.” He suddenly stood up. “I have to go.”

“Wait, Jay, what’s happening?” You tried to stop him, but he moved with surprising speed, almost rushing out of the room.

You stayed there, confused, as his scent lingered in the air.

And only then did you notice a small detail.

The moment Jay became agitated…His tail had started wagging.

The party was in full chaos. The music was blasting, the fraternity living room was packed with hybrids and humans laughing, drinking, and flirting with each other. But Jay wasn’t having fun.

He was sitting on one of the sofas, one hand buried in his damp hair, his jaw clenched. He kept feeling the air thick with cloying, sweet smells, too many female pheromones mixed together, and it was annoying.

Many girls approached, casually touching his arm, smiling at him mischievously. He always rolled his eyes and moved away slightly, irritated.

Heeseung, sitting next to him with a drink in hand, had been watching him for a few minutes with concern. -You okay?- he asked finally, raising an eyebrow.

Jay ran a hand over his nose as if trying to clear his mind. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that… can you smell this? Too many female scents, too sweet. It’s giving me a headache.”

At these words, his friends exchanged a glance.

Jake, with his usual amused expression, leaned back against the sofa and looked at him sideways. 'Jay, we’re at a party full of humans and hybrids, it’s OBVIOUS there’s going to be strong smells.'

Jay growled lowly. “That’s not what I mean. It’s different… It’s like my body’s on high alert, but not in a good way. I don’t like these smells.”

Sunghoon leaned in slightly, crossing his arms.--Oh yeah? So what scent do you like?--

Jay scoffed, annoyed, but then ran his hand over his nose again, trying to focus on the missing sensation. “Vanilla... and fig.”

His friends looked at each other, confused.

<Idon’t know anyone with that scent,> Jungwon said, shaking his head.

“Neither do I,” Jay admitted, scrunching his nose.

But just at that moment, something changed.

A light breeze passed through the room as the front door opened, bringing with it a new scent. Sweet, warm, with a fruity note that hit his brain like a punch to the face.

Jay immediately stiffened, his pupils dilated, and his tail tensed… then it began to wag involuntarily.

No. No, no, no.

He heard Heeseung chuckle next to him. -Oh shit.-

Then, as if fate wanted to trap him even more, Heeseung raised his voice. -Y/N! You’re here!-

Jay snapped his head around.

And there you were, in the middle of the crowd. A simple dress, your hair down, and that scent. That scent his body had been waiting for years.

He felt his blood rush to his ears as his tail continued to move uncontrollably.

Jake gave him a shove on the arm, chuckling. 'Shit.'

Sunghoon shook his head. --Now it makes sense.--

Jungwon grinned. <Bro, you’re screwed.>

And Jay, as you came closer with an unaware smile, realized they were right.

The party was in full swing, but Jay felt trapped.

The moment you approached, his body stiffened. His heartbeat accelerated, his jaw clenched. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be you.

Yet, the scent of vanilla and fig slipped into his nostrils like a damn temptation, triggering something primal inside him.

Not here. Not now.

Jay greeted you in a curt tone, not even looking you in the eye, then abruptly turned and headed toward the stairs, grabbing Heeseung by the arm.

You were left confused. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been treating you poorly and with hostility since the last time he came to the clinic.

You watched him as he disappeared upstairs, confused and slightly irritated. Jay had never been too friendly with you, but this… this was pure hostility.

Heeseung, being dragged along, smiled with amusement. -Wow, what a welcome. You really should work on your manners.-

Jay only stopped once they were far enough from the chaos. He ran a hand over his face, breathing heavily.

“I don’t want her here,” he said, his voice low and tense.

Heeseung tilted his head, his deer-like ears moving slightly. -Who, Y/N?-

“Yeah.”

-And why?- His tone was overly amused.

Jay growled low. “Don’t make that face. You know why.”

Heeseung laughed. -Bro… are you telling me YOUR heat is reacting to her?-

Jay shoved him lightly against the wall, eyes locked on his. “Don’t mess with me.”

But Heeseung had already figured it out.

The air around Jay was tense, restless. That tail of his that had started wagging a few minutes ago? Now it was motionless. A clear sign that Jay was struggling with something inside himself.

Heeseung crossed his arms, shaking his head. -You can’t just stop her from being somewhere because her scent’s messing with you, you know?-

Jay looked away, clenching his jaw. “I don’t get messed up by anyone.”

-Oh, you mean because her scent is driving you completely insane? No, I didn’t notice.-

Jay shot him a glare. “Don’t joke about it.”

Heeseung raised his hands in surrender. -Hey, I didn’t say anything. But admit it, Jay. She’s the one for you.-

“Stop talking nonsense.”

-Then why are you acting like this? No one else reacts this way to smells, and you know it.-

Jay didn’t respond. He knew Heeseung was right, but he didn’t want to accept it.

At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him.

You. You had approached unknowingly, maybe looking for an explanation, maybe because you weren’t the type to ignore a behavior like that.

“Jay?”

He turned around sharply. You looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Is everything okay? You seemed… uncomfortable.”

Jay growled softly, clenching his fists. “Don’t get involved.”

You froze for a moment, surprised by his reaction. “Excuse me? Is that how you talk to people? I’ve been trying to help you for over a month.”

Heeseung stepped aside, raising his hands as if to say, "I’m not involved in this."

Jay took a step toward you, his animal scent slightly stronger. “I don’t want anyone in my room tonight. No one.”

His voice was deep, heavy with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

It twisted your stomach, but you didn’t look away. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of following you.”

He didn’t answer. He gave you one last look—one full of frustration and… something else—then turned and disappeared up the stairs, leaving you there with a million questions.

Heeseung sighed, laughing quietly. -Jay is… special.-

You crossed your arms, still a little shaken. “Yeah, I’d already figured that out.”

Were you worried? Absolutely.

Jay had skipped two check-up appointments, and if there was one thing you knew about him, it was that, no matter how stubborn and provocative he was, he wasn’t the type to avoid a situation without a valid reason.

Finally, exasperated, you stopped Heeseung in the hallway at the university to ask for explanations.

“Where’s Jay?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Heeseung scratched the back of his neck with a nervous smile. -Oh, you know… he’s busy with baseball.-

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Really? Strange, because the season hasn’t started yet and the practices aren’t that frequent.”

Heeseung raised his hands. -Hey, I’m just telling you what he said.-

It was vague. Too vague. Yet, the next afternoon, just as you were busy organizing some documents in your veterinary office, your phone vibrated.

You looked at the name on the screen.

Jay.

You let out a small sigh of relief. Finally.

Without even greeting him, you decided to tease him immediately.

“Oh, look who finally decides to check-in. I thought you were dead or had become an urban legend.”

Strangely, no playful response came from the other end of the line.

Silence.

You tilted your head slightly. “Jay? Are you okay?”

On the other end, a deep breath, then a low, raspy laugh. “Not exactly.”

You sensed something strange in his tone.

“Are you feeling sick? Do you have a fever?”

That same laugh, now lower, almost amused. “No. It’s a different kind of heat.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Wait… That heat?”

“Mmh. That one.”

Your heart did a little flip in your chest. Finally. He had finally found the right scent.

A smile spread across your face. “Jay, that’s amazing! Does this mean you’ve found the girl?”

Silence. Then, with that low and sharp voice, Jay spoke bluntly.

“Yeah. I’ve found her. It’s you.”

Your breath hitched.

“And I want you to come to me. Now.”

You swallowed, surprised. “Jay…”

“I can’t take it anymore.” His voice grew rougher, more guttural. “I want you. I want to possess you, fill you, adore you.”

The phone almost slipped from your hands.

He was direct. Too direct. And the problem? The problem was that, deep down, a part of you didn’t want to reject him.

An hour later, you were standing in front of Jay’s door.

As soon as you raised your hand to knock, Heeseung’s relaxed voice stopped you. -Ah, Y/N.- You turned and saw him, Sunghoon, and Niki by the stairs. -We’re leaving, but if you need anything—”

You crossed your arms with a sly smile. “I know how to handle Jay, Hee. I’m a vet.”

He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. -As you wish. But… good luck.-

You couldn’t tell if his tone was amused or genuinely concerned. You knocked, and the door opened almost immediately as if Jay had been standing right behind it, waiting for you.

What you found in front of you left you speechless.

Jay’s hair was damp, still slightly messy from the heat of the shower, and a few drops ran down his sharp jawline. He was wearing only a pair of black sweatpants, sitting low on his hips, exposing his perfectly sculpted torso. His Husky ears were erect and alert, and his tail—that soft, thick tail—wagged slowly behind him.

He had a heavy look in his eyes. Dark, intense eyes. Too intense.

“Finally.”

It wasn’t a greeting. It was a low, satisfied growl, and he gestured for you to come in. As soon as the door closed behind you, without thinking, you ran your hand over his forehead.

Jay stiffened.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled softly, clenching his jaw.

You raised an eyebrow. “Checking if you have a fever, genius.”

A deeper growl came from his throat. “I don’t have a fever.” He stepped closer, forcing you to back up against the wall. His chest brushed against yours. “Want proof?”

His gaze dropped briefly to his sweatpants, and instinctively, you lowered your eyes—and oh. The fabric of his sweatpants stretched noticeably.

You cleared your throat, trying to mask the sudden warmth rising to your cheeks. “Okay… let’s just say I got it.”

Jay huffed, his tail wagging again. “Three cold showers today. Didn’t do shit.”

You decided to ease the tension with a joke. “Poor puppy, all frustrated.”

In response, in a smooth, decisive move, Jay reached out, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against him.

A surprised sound escaped you as you felt the heat of his body against yours. Strong, solid, burning.

He closed his eyes and buried his face against your neck. “Shit.”

You felt him inhale deeply, almost as if he wanted to trap your scent in his lungs. Then he lowered his voice.

“You drive me crazy.”

You laughed quietly, but the sound was immediately cut off when Jay shoved you against the door, with a speed that took your breath away.

“What’s so funny, noona?” His voice was a deep, vibrating growl. “Do you think I’m joking?”

His ears were perked forward, his tail wagging erratically behind him, a sign of his uncontrolled excitement.

He sniffed your neck, inhaling sharply as if wanting to imprint your scent inside. “Mh… vanilla and fig.” His warm tongue brushed your skin, dampening it slightly. “I should lick you all over to make sure the same scent is on other parts of your body.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Jay…”

He giggled, his chest vibrating against yours. “I like how my name sounds on your mouth, but I would like to hear you call me another way.” His knee crept between your legs, causing you to lose balance for a moment. "Maybe ' Alpha' would look good in your mouth, huh?” Swallow hard. “You dream if you think I'll say it.”

“See.” He licked your ear, nibbling at you softly. His hands clasped on your hips, strong, possessive. You could feel his body vibrating, the heat he gave off was almost suffocating. "You know what husks love to do in heat with their human companion?"he asked, the lower voice. You closed your eyes for a moment, your body already hypersensitive to its contact. "They want..." You groaned softly when you felt his nails brush your skin. “They want to mark their mate ... cover her with their smell.”

“Right.” His breathing became heavier. “And what else?” Swallow, trying to keep control. “They want to hold her, stop her from running away ... they want to bite her, hold her under them, feel her tremble.” He snapped, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder. His bite was not too strong, but it was enough to make you gasp. "Good girl," he whispered at you. “But you forgot the most important part.” His tail moved impatiently behind him, while his pelvis pressed against yours. “Node.” You could feel his breath getting more frantic.

"Tell me, noona... how long does it last?”

"D-Depends..." you swallow, trying to concentrate. "Hours ... maybe days. If the heat is strong, it can be exhausting.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Then, suddenly, he laughed. "Fucked up.”

He lifted you slightly, holding you against the door. His eyes were completely blackened by the dilation of the pupils, his breathing red hot. “And so are you.” His hands gripped you with more force, his body trembled slightly.

“Because I want to sink into you until you hear my name scream.” He sniffed at you again, his chest vibrating with pleasure. “I want you marked, covered with my smell, I want to fill you and leave my warmth on you until you can no longer think of anyone else.” His hybrid side was taking over, and you knew there would be no coming back from that moment. He kissed you passionately, the kiss was an explosion of pent-up tension, a perfect mix, he grabbed you hard, his hands on your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, his lips warm, his breath labored. You felt completely enveloped by his warmth, his dominant aura but incredibly attentive to you. Between kisses, he smiled against your lips. "I bet you didn't think your little patient would become so problematic, eh noona?”

You laughed softly, but the sound turned into a sigh when his hands slid down your body, clutching you as if he did not want to let you go. Instinctively, your fingers found his thick ears, gently touching them. His body flinched against yours, a low, smug growl vibrated in his chest. “Continuous.”

His voice was hoarse, almost pleading. You did it, stroking it more decisively, enjoying the feeling of its soft fur between your fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment, biting his lip. But when his pelvis involuntarily moved against you, you clearly felt his length rub against your center. A groan escaped both of them. You clung to his toned arms, your breath accelerated. “You are hot ... ”

"Noona..." he gasped, lowering his head until it touched your throat. He kissed you softly, then with more heat, going up along the line of the jaw. “I can't take it anymore.”

You knew. You could feel it by the way it shook slightly, by the oppressive heat it emanated, by the urgency in its movements. Between kisses, you whispered, “Why don't we take a shower?” He paused for a second, blinked, then laughed quietly. "Are you trying to turn off my heat with cold water? Are you kidding me, noona?” You shook your head. “I'm serious.” You looked him straight in the eye. “It will make you feel better.” He looked at you, his expression changed slightly. “You're a really good vet.” A crooked smile ruffled his lips. “But I want you to know something.” He came up again, his hands going up along your back, his warm breath on your skin.

“I will do it only and exclusively with you. And in a few hours I will have you completely. I'll brand you. I'll fill you up.” He slowly licked the lobe of your ear, making your body wince. “And when the knot goes inside you, there will be no way back.” Swallow, a shiver ran down your back. He caught your expression and smiled contentedly. He kissed you again as he firmly pushed you gently towards the bathroom of his room. Entering, he took off your sweatshirt with a slow gesture, leaving you in a tank top. “You are beautiful.” You giggled quietly, trying to ease the tension. “You only say that because you are in heat.”

He shook his head, his expression serious. “It's not true.” He took your chin between your fingers, forcing you to look at him. “Even without having my length so damn excited, I would still have wanted you.” He bit his lip, as if he had decided to say something that he had been holding back for a long time. “I've wanted to try with you for weeks.”

Your heart missed a beat. You had no time to answer, because he came up again, kissing you with even more intensity. But this time, there was not only the animal need for warmth, there was also something deeper, more intense. Between kisses, your hands went down his toned torso, until they reached the elastic of his sweatpants. You slowly lowered them, feeling the muscles of her thighs strain under your fingers. And when the bulge in his boer he laughed quietly, with a hint of embarrassment, looking down for a moment. “It's so damn embarrassing.” You lifted your face to look at him, your lips curving into an amused smile. “Everything is ok. You don't have to be ashamed.”

He gave you an almost wary look, as if he couldn't believe how calm you were. But that moment of hesitation faded in a second when you approached his neck, nibbling at the birthmark he had right under his jaw-that little butterfly-shaped spot, or maybe heart-shaped. "F-Fuck..." he stuttered, his body stiffening in your arms

A deep growl rose from his chest as his hands clenched around your waist. “What do you think you're doing, noona?” His voice was hoarse, full of desire. You looked down at him, with a mischievous grin. "Nothing... I'm just kidding you a little bit.”

"Oh yes?” His growl turned into a half-groan when your lips grazed his neck again. "You always say I'm the one who teases…” Without giving him time to react, you gently pushed him to the shower, the hot steam already in the air. He followed you, his chest rising and falling fast, his eyes chained to your movements. He took the tank top between your fingers and slid it off your body, his breath breaking for a moment. Then, in an instinctive motion, he knelt slightly in front of you, grabbing the sides of your pants to pull them off with maddening slowness.

He paused for a second, tilting his head as his gaze flowed over you. "Noona … a fucking red suit?” An amused smile formed on his lips. "Don't tell me it's a case.” Laugh slowly, crossing your arms to your chest. “I woke up wanting red.” He snorted, shaking his head with an incredulous expression. “You're a liar.” His fingers clasped around the sides of your panties, lowering them only a little while his gaze remained glued to the fabric. “These are spotless. You came home to change.” You felt yourself blushing, but you raised your chin with a playful challenge. “What if this is so?” He bit his lip, his husk ears abbass “Then it means you wanted me too, noona. You walked in here knowing exactly what you were doing, didn't you?"he whispered, his voice more hoarse than usual, a sign that the heat was hitting him in full force. "You came here… with those damn red panties … hoping you'd lose your mind."

He looked down at you, his jaw outstretched, as his ears bent back slightly, a clear signal of how close he was to giving in. You bit your lip, amused by his frustration, but he did not escape the way your cheeks turned red. He sniffed the air, his nostrils dilated as his instinct led him to capture every slightest variation of your scent. A low growl escaped from his lips. "Shit, I hear it," he hissed, running his tongue over the sharp canines. "Your smell is changing, did you know? You're doing it on purpose." You walked one step closer, lifting one hand to brush his hairy ear. He groaned quietly, a deep, animalistic sound, and his tail wagged even more.

"What's going on? Can't control yourself?"you teased him, running your fingers along his defined jaw. He sprinted forward, pressing you against the wall of the shower, the hot steam spreading through the air increasing the sense of intimacy. His eyes had darkened, her pupils dilated, her breathing irregular as his body trembled slightly.

"I haven't felt heat in twenty-two fucking years," he hissed at your ear, brushing the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue. "And now I finally feel it... but only with you." His tail grazed your bare side, caressing you slowly, as his hands slid down your back, clutching you. "Tell me, noona ..." he used that term on purpose, with a mischievous grin on his lips, " ... what do husks usually do in heat with their human companion?" The heat in your body intensified.

You knew he was testing your limits, playing with you exactly as a predator revels in his prey before sinking his teeth. Your fingers clung to his toned forearms as you tried to stay calm, but he was relentless. "Well ..." you began, your voice slightly trembling. "Husks in heat tend to be more possessive... more instinctive. They love to bite, mark, smell their mate until they become impregnated with its smell. And…" He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "And?" Swallow. "And they don't stop until they do it completely." A low growl echoed in his chest. "Damn, I knew it," he whispered with a crooked smile. "And you know what the problem is, noona?"

His hands rested on your sides, clasping tightly. His body was vibrating, the need to satisfy his instinct was consuming him from within. "I never knotted any."He confessed to you, the most hoarse and deep tone. "And my knot will not stop until it is sure that you are completely mine. You laughed softly when he pulled off your panties, his firm and possessive touch. “So impatient... " you provoked him, tilting his head as the jet of water grew warmer.

“You have no idea how much.” His voice was hoarse, deep, imbued with a primal hunger. He knelt down slightly, his strong hands grabbing his hips to keep you exactly where she wanted. Warm lips began to slip on your thighs, leaving small kisses, bites and pacifiers, imprinting its mark on sensitive skin. Every bite was a warning, every lick a reminder that you belonged to him. "Noona ..." he whispered against your damp skin, " You're so soft here... so fragrant... my brain is shorting out.”

You wanted to answer him with a joke, you wanted to provoke him again, but the exact moment when his mouth slid lower, you felt a wave of heat explode inside you. A groan involuntarily escaped from your lips, and his hands grabbed his damp hair with force. “Jay… I—”

His ears barely moved, catching every tremor in your voice. He looked up, smugly, with a dirty grin on his lips. “What is it, Noona?” he whispered maliciously. “Can't you even talk?” You pulled him by the ears in a mixture of reproach and desperate need for control, but he laughed softly and barely broke away, his burning eyes fixed in yours. “You are soaked, “she whispered, and then, with a sharp smile, added: "And not for water.”

He closed the tap without ceasing to look at you, his chest rising with irregular breaths. “So slimy... and only for me.” His voice was low, dangerous, full of Alpha instincts impossible to ignore. You shuddered and hit him lightly on the shoulder, trying to scold him. “You're exaggerating.” But he growled quietly, his eyes turned almost animalistic from the heat. “No, Noona... it's you who unleashed this. And now you will take responsibility for it.” He added another finger inside you with maddening slowness, enjoying every little spasm of your body. The legs almost gave way, but he firmly supported you, leaving no chance of escape. “I would like to see you like this every day... " he muttered. "Filled ... swollen with my seed and my knot ... a real show.” You felt your face warm even more, a mixture of embarrassment and desire that overwhelmed you. "don't say,Jay—”

He interrupted you with a bite on the shoulder, marking her again. “Oh, but I'll say it, Noona. I want you like that... and you will.”

“… I—” He growled softly, the vibrating sound making her shudder to the core. "Say it," he whispered against her sensitive skin. "

Tell me, Noona.”

"I'm going to—JAY”

"Do it," he ordered in a hoarse, authoritarian voice, but in a tone of pure devotion. "Come for me.”

And when he heard you give in under him, when your body twitched and your voice broke into an uncontrolled groan, he closed his eyes and growled again, his own heat blazing even louder. He couldn't think of anything but you. He rose, hia chest rising with irregular breaths, and kissed you with fury, her hands clutching her with force, as if afraid that she might escape him. “You're so good, Noona... "

He whispered against your lips, nibbling them softly. “I can feel all your flavor on my tongue.” You gasped softly, still shaken, but when you felt its warm length press against you, your heart missed a beat. Tremble. His body was on fire, his instincts out of control.

“I can't take it anymore...” he hissed, his forehead against yours. “I want to fill you. I want to see you swollen with my knot, branded by me.” You looked at him for a long moment, your expression was a mixture of sweetness and defiance. Then, with a barely hinted smile, you stroked his cheek and whispered: "Take me, Alpha.”

And when you saw his erect cock you moaned with the desire to feel it inside you, it was slightly long, wanked and pinkish but the thing that made you crazy the most is when pre-seminal liquids came out of him and you understood when he would take you he would not do it just for once. "Repeat it," he ordered, his voice deep, hoarse with desire. "Tell me again that you are mine.” You looked up at him, his face reddened, his lips ajar from wheezing. "I am yours... Alpha.”

He took you by the butt and you tied your legs in his waist and you felt his cock tease your poor swollen cunt and with a little bounce, he slid his cock full of fluid inside your vaginal folds and you screamed from pleasure as you felt how deep he could fill you and it was only his first push. He held you in his arms, trapped against the cold tiles of the shower, while he burned with fever. The fever of heat, of instinct repressed for too long, of a primitive need that he could no longer control. The golden eyes peered at you from above, darkened with desire, the pupils dilated like those of a predator who had finally caught his victim. His husk ears were low, his tail moved irregularly, a clear sign that his rationality was now hanging by a thread.

You gasped at him with every thrust of his visicidal cock inside you, hands clinging to his strong arms, your body trembling under his grip. He felt the smell of your desire mixing with the hot steam and something inside him snapped. He approached, touching your neck with his nose, inhaling deeply, as if he wanted to imprint his scent on his mind. Then, with a crooked, perverse smile, he whispered against your skin: “You know so damn good, Noona... I could get lost in you forever.”

His words made your legs tremble and I squeezed your thighs around his hips even more to take his cock divinely even more, and he noticed it. He loved it. "You are so weak in my arms..." he continued, brushing his side with his fingers, drawing slow, torturing lines on his damp skin. “So fragile ... yet made for me.”

He pushed himself even further against him, letting you feel all his excitement, snatching a small moan at her. He smiled, a low, amused growl escaped from his lips as he lowered his gaze to his body, observing every slightest reaction. "Look how much you want me," he whispered in a hoarse, satisfied tone. “You're all hot and soggy, and it's not for the water, is it, Noona?” His words made you blush, but he did not leave you time to answer.

His mouth rested on his skin, leaving bites and hickeys on his shoulder, on his neck, on the spot he knew to be his weak point. "Tell me you want me, tell me you can't wait to feel filled and swollen only because of me,” he ordered, his voice a mixture of dark sweetness and pure animal instinct. You clung to his damp hair, pulling his ears in a desperate gesture.

“JAY ... I'm hot ... " you stammered, your breath broken. He laughed, but there was nothing gentle about that sound. He was pleased. Dominant.

"Oh, Noona... I know," he whispered, lifting you up with ease as his thrusts became regular, his hands clasping your thighs with a firm grip. “It is your body that calls me ... because it knows that I am your Alpha.” He moved against you, a slow, deep movement, almost cruel in his deliberate provocation. He opened his eyes wide, a muffled cry that was lost between her lips. He growled quietly, the vibrating sound ringing in his chest. “You feel so good... " he muttered, licking his lips. “You're perfect, Noona. Made to be filled by me, reproduced by me, used only by me.”

The feeling was too intense, the heat too unbearable. You felt your body melt beneath him, all rational thought vanish as you were overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure. "JAY...!”

His name escaped from your lips in a desperate groan, your fingernails scratching his shoulder blades. He stared at you, his golden eyes shining with pure instinct and possession. "Say it again," he ordered, his voice deeper, more hoarse. You gasped, your breasts frantically rising and ribbing with every push ofa “ JAY... I'm hot...!”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his body quivering as another growl escaped from his throat. Then, with a sharp smile, he looked down at you and whispered against your lips: “It's the knot, Noona... my body is marking you.” The fever struck his in a sudden surge, his body shaken by the heat, overwhelming pleasure and intensity with which he claimed you as his own.

And at that time, there was nothing else in the world. Just you. Only the Alpha and its prey. “You're mine, Noona.” Those words rumbled in your head, sending shivers down your spine. He was no longer just your slightly cheeky, provocative patient you knew. No, now he was an Alpha in the height of his heat, a predator who had finally caught his prey, a man who would not stop until he left every possible mark on you. And the worst – or perhaps the best-was that you wanted it.

You wanted it as it was: possessive, dominant, ravenous. You wanted him to the point that your legs trembled, your breath became short, and your mind emptied of all thoughts but him.

“ ... it's too much... " you stammered, clinging to his damp hair, pulling his soft ears in a desperate gesture. He laughed, a low, vibrant sound that made his body tremble. "Too much? Or too beautiful, Noona?” His voice was hoarse, dirty with desire and pure instinct. You couldn't answer. The heat in your body was growing too fast, every fiber of it was melting under him. It was too much, too intense, too deep, too perfect. Thin tears ran down her cheeks, lost between steam and heat. He licked them off with his tongue, his golden eyes shining with pure adoration and predatory instinct.

"Look at you ... so beautiful, so mine.” Another desperate groan eluded you. His body was glowing against yours, his muscles tense as he held you tight as if he feared it might escape him. “I'm ... I'm” You couldn't even finish the sentence. He felt you tremble, his smile grew even more mischievous as he lowered a hand between you and pressed with his expert fingers against your most sensitive point. "Come on, Noona ... show me how much you want me. Show me how much you're made for me, make a mess around my nice cock while you get filled up.”

The last words were your ruin. A heat wave exploded inside you, the pleasure swept over you with such force that it left you breathless. Your body twitched against him as a muffled scream escaped from your lips.

"JAY” He moaned quietly, smug, satisfied in an almost perverse way as he felt her surrender completely to him. "Good girl..." he whispered, continuing to gently torment her as he left her shaking at him. “You're so perfect for me, Noona... so perfect.” You cling to him with the last strength left, his heart beating so hard that his head turned.

The world around you was blurry, lost between the hot steam and the rhythmic sound of your heavy breaths. But for him there was only one thing at that time.

Y/n Its prey. His partner. The woman who had waited too long. And now that he finally had her in his arms, he would never let her escape him. His body moved with an almost brutal hunger, pushing you deeper and deeper against the cold tiles as the searing heat of his body merged with yours. His hands clasped you forcefully, as if he wanted to brand you, as if his touch was the only thing that could keep him anchored to reality amid the fever of his heat.

Every moan, every desperate babble that eluded you sent him further and further out of control. He was no longer just a boy. He was a hybrid in the height of his heat, and you were his prey. His hands clasped you with an almost desperate force, as if he wanted you to become part of him, as if only in this way he could quench the primordial hunger that devoured him from within.

"Made for me..." he whispered against your ear, his voice hoarse and charged with an insatiable desire. "Made to be filled, made to be inavsa by my cum and my knot to be mine, only mine...” Every word made you tremble, every animalistic sound that eluded him seemed to ignite you even more. You felt at the mercy of him, lost between pleasure and the desire to surrender completely. His breathing became irregular, his body strained to the point of spasm. Then, with a wild growl, he pushed himself even deeper, clutching at you as if he wanted to brand you forever.

A heat wave swept over you, a shiver running down your back when you felt him shivering against you, his animal instinct finally released. You felt his warmth spread within you, every fiber of his body stretched as he filled you completely, as if his sole purpose was to brand you from within. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising frantically as his body remained tight against yours, still in the fever of his heat. Slowly, he looked down at you, his golden eyes shining and wild. “You're mine, Noona, " he whispered with a crooked smile, his voice still trembling. “You always have been. And now you can't escape me anymore. You felt the heat rising down your back, a wild shiver that made you shudder as it squeezed you even harder. His breathing became more irregular, the need to claim you completely out of control.

"Oh, damn it..." he moaned against his skin, his voice hoarse and trembling as his body stretched against you. "I'm going to... damn it, Noona, I want you so much...” His instinct took over.

With a deep growl, he squeezed you with all the force he had and pushed her even more against himself, her body moving with almost wild ferocity. The heat enveloped you both, a wave of pleasure that made every muscle in their body tremble. You opened your eyes wide, a choked cry that got lost between your lips as you desperately clung to him when you felt his cum squirt into you, a liquid patina leaked out of your core and you both moaned and he kissed you. Time seemed to stop.

The only sound that filled the air was their wheezing, the frantic beating of their hearts rumbling against their damp skins. He remained motionless for a few seconds, his body still tense as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Then, with an exhausted but satisfied smile, he looked down at her and gently kissed her forehead. “You're incredible, Noona... " he muttered against her skin, leaving a trail of small kisses down her face.

"Tell me you're fine.” you laughed slowly, still out of breath, your fingers caressing the back of his head. “It was... wonderful.”

He smiled against your skin, licking your neck slowly before nibbling it affectionately. "Wonderful?"he repeated, an amused flash in his golden eyes. "Oh, Noona... we're not done yet.”

After gently cleaning you, she let you out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a warm towel. His hands, large and attentive, slid along your body, carefully wiping you, as if he wanted to imprint on you every touch of his own. He made you sit on the bed and, without saying a word, took the hair dryer to dry your hair. His golden gaze shone under the soft light of the room, oscillating between sweet affection and something darker, more instinctive.

Every time his fingers ran over your skin to massage you a scented lotion, his hand always ended up there—on your belly. He held his breath every time he touched it, as if that simple gesture awakened something visceral, primordial in him. His eyes grew dark, his pupils widened. He sniffed your neck lightly, his nose grazed your damp skin as he peppered you with little kisses. And then, you heard it.

His excitement against you, hard, hot, pulsating. His breath grew deeper and, with a thread of voice, he murmured against your skin: "I still don't smell enough on you..." A shudder passed through you. He slightly tightened his grip on your hips, his body shaking as he tried to control himself.

“I can't do it, Noona... I want you again.” You smiled, trying to tease him, but the way his eyes shone made you realize that he was not joking at all. "You should be a good companion," he whispered, his voice hoarse and deep. "You should let yourself get caught again." His nose grazed your cheek, his mouth approached your ear. "Tell me, Noona ... Do you remember what my favorite position is?”

Your breathing became uncertain, your heart was pounding in your chest. "dogg st stle A low, contented growl escaped from his lips, his fingers squeezed a little more around your hips. "Well done ... Then put yourself in position for me." His tone was a mixture of sweetness and pure animalistic craving, his patience now reduced to a thin thread. “I can't hold back anymore... my instinct wants it. He wants you, my groove wants to knot you again.” The bathrobe slowly slid off your shoulders, the soft fabric falling to the ground without a sound, leaving you exposed in front of him. He stood still for a few moments, his breathing heavy, his golden pupils dilated as he gazed at you with a predatory gaze. His tail jerked behind him, a clear signal that his instincts were taking over. Then, without any hesitation, he leaned over you, his big hands rising up your hips with an almost venerating touch before sinking his face into your breasts.

His lips closed around your skin, warm, moist, possessive. He kissed you, sucked you, his teeth left little marks on you as his low, hoarse voice whispered dirty but incredibly sweet words to you. "You're so soft, Noona..." he muttered against your skin, his tongue tracing slow circles around your sensitive buds. "Made for me. For my mouth... for my hands." You smiled, biting your lip as you looked down at him, his golden eyes filled with longing and pure adoration. "Oh? What if someone else was lucky enough to suck them off?" His jaw twitched. He stared at you, his gaze became darker, more animalistic. Her teeth sank gently into your bosom, as if punishing you for even daring to say it. "Don't be stupid," he growled quietly, licking the mark he had just left you. "These breasts are mine. Only mine. And I don't want anyone to touch them, look at them or taste them, understand?"

You giggled, your fingers rising towards his soft ears, pulling them slightly. "Not even our children?" For a moment, he froze. His gaze turned on something deeper, darker, more ... animalistic. Then, slowly, a crooked smile painted on his lips. "No..." he whispered in a low, hungry voice. "Because I would enjoy seeing you like that, Noona. To get sucked by our puppies, with your body swollen for me ... Mmh, just the thought sends me freaking out." A shiver ran through your back, the breath breaking in your throat. He was crazy. His warmth, his Alpha instincts were consuming him.

He seemed to feel your trembling, for his hands slid down your back, his fingers tracing slow circles on your bare skin. “Get on all fours for me.” You hesitated for a second, the body still sensitive.

"take it easy ... I'm still—” A small slap on your side made you wince, and when you turned to look at him, he had a smug smile on his lips. "Sensitive?"he whispered, tilting his head with a grin.

"Noona, you should know that all you do is make me even more impatient when you say certain things." You bit your lip, feeling another shiver running through you as he positioned himself behind you, his hot body pressing against yours.

The bed was soft and full of pillows and your arms were put in position that I could hold you up, he was driving you crazy for 10 good minutes, in that 4-legged position he could see your beautiful little ass now swollen because of the nummerous slaps that he had given you with his hand every time you desperately cervavi his cock and he could see how your poor cunt now swollen was losing excitement because it wanted to be just filled by him, knotted by him another time and fertilized only by the alpha and hybrid that was in itself. "Please, I can't take it anymore. Before I was very good at taking you completely, I still want to be knotted by you"

you said with tears in your eyes as he continued to stroke his cock full of animal furrow between your flaky and eager folds of his cock in a not entirely human version because of his first hybrid heat. "Look what state you are Noona, until a couple of days ago you continued to storm me with calls if you were fine and sending me a lot of advice to make me cum the heat and now you are here in 4-legged position desperately looking for my knodamente and my cock inside you!" His tail was moving fast and without telling you anything he took your butt much harder than he should and pushed his cock inside your poor vaginal lips, a scream of pleasure was triggered in the room as he in the grip of his animal instincts in heat began to push and hammer his cock inside you, every time he got inside you you pushed up your butt to take it better and little sobs came out of your mouth, it was wonderful how he was taking you, you had seen a lot of simulations in the various old age classes but it was totally different to be taken live by a hybrid with such a thick groove.

"I'm too hot," you said as his groove swamped you and you began to feel the presence of another knot inside your poor belly that slowly widened to make room for knotting. "So sweet, so submissive..." he hums, as he lowers himself, your back against his chest as he kisses you under the earlobe, the fun clear in his voice. "Such a cute little bitch to me, my sweet princess, so beautiful that she manages to take another one of my knotting again..." he praises you, and you moan obscenely as you feel more your belly grow and the knot swell inside you. "I'm-I'm coming. Ahh" you screamed with pleasure as he gave you a little slap in the clit and that triggered little chills all over your body as you came for the third time that night, I made a nice mess all over his cock as he filled you deeper and deeper.

"What a good girl, look how I can fertilize you-ah!"he exclaims, pushing himself as deep as he can as you feel him spitting his load inside you and pushing himself until his cum came out of your cunt, finally stopping, finally calming down as he took you by the side and stretched you out against him.

Your breaths were still heavy, but Jay's face was marked by an expression he could no longer hide: a kind of shyness he'd never shown before. His eyes lowered, and for a moment, he almost seemed unsure, as though he were afraid he had done something wrong.

He looked at you, then lowered his gaze to your exposed skin, as if fearing he'd hurt you. His tail moved slowly behind him, nervously, while he brushed his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

"I'm sorry if... if I hurt you," he murmured, almost as if seeking confirmation. "I didn't mean to."

You smiled, gently touching his face, making him lift his eyes to meet yours. "You didn't hurt me, Jay. There's nothing to apologize for."

His ears perked up slightly, and his face flushed with a soft redness as he kissed you more gently, as if he truly wanted to feel every part of you, every emotion flowing between you.

He kissed your forehead, your neck, every part of you that was closest to him, with a tenderness that made you feel special. Each time he kissed you, he asked, almost in a whisper, if he had hurt you. And you, smiling, always answered no, feeling his heart beat fast as he tried to be as careful as possible.

When he finally pulled away a little, his expression became more serious, but also more vulnerable. His hands rested on your hips, and he looked you in the eyes with a sincerity that made it feel like everything was more real than you had ever imagined.

"Y/n..." he said, his voice lower, but full of emotion. "I want to know... if you want to be my girlfriend. If you want... to be with me, not just because I'm going through my first rut right now, but because I want to try with you, like a 'normal' guy."

His face flushed even more, as if he feared being too direct, but there was also a subtle strength in his words. A part of him that had never truly shown itself to anyone. This moment was special, because he was revealing that side of vulnerability he'd always kept hidden.

You looked at him for a moment, feeling your heart race, and decided to tease him a little, as was your style.

"Me?" you replied with a sly smile, making him laugh nervously. "But you know, I'm really hard to win over, right?"

Jay smiled shyly, but his gaze grew more intense. Then, he took your hands, kissed them gently, and said, almost hopefully: "I'm serious, Y/n."

The smile that had remained on your lips softened into a more sincere, genuine one. And, without a second thought, you replied: "Yes, Jay. I want to be your girlfriend."

His arms immediately wrapped around you, and his kiss was a promise. A promise of something new, something more than either of you could have ever imagined.

And in that moment, in the silence that followed, you both understood that love wasn’t just passion and desire, but also vulnerability, trust, and a deep connection that grew stronger every day.

taglist: @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @rikiscupid @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @m3wkledreamy @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki @annovaz @kkamismom12 @forrds @inishij @amortenha @jayjw16enxp @sunnysidesins @isagistarr @schniti-is-in-the-house @nyxiebabyyy @rubylace @petalsofink

[pukefactory]

•☽────✧˖°˖ SUMMER SIDE ˖°˖✧────☾•

(COMMISSION)

★ Summary: A Short Story Containing 5 Instances Where Salesperson ENA Couldn’t Stop Talking, Plus 1 Instance That Left Her Speechless With You

★ Commissioner: @namosaga

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Short Story, SFW

★ Word Count: 1357

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

Instance 1: The Dream Where You Died Was Not That Funny, Actually

She wakes you up by screaming.

“BLOOD! THERE WAS BLOOD COMING OUT OF YOUR STUPID HEAD!”

Your eyes creak open like rusted metal, and you’re instantly blinded by morning sun. Or possibly ENA. She’s standing on your bed, stomping in place like she’s summoning thunder, both hands flailing.

“You DIED,” she hisses, stabbing a claw-finger at your chest. “Your little meat balloon body POPPED like a sick novelty party favor and I held your lungs like they were STUFFED ANIMALS! That’s not even the bad part!”

You sit up. “…There’s a worse part than that?”

“YES!” she howls. “I had to give a speech at your funeral!”

“…Oh GØD.”

“I—what’s the word—bombed. I BOMBED! Half the guests were mannequins! The other half were your enemies!”

She drops to her knees on the mattress, wild-eyed and trembling, her salesperson side bright red and twitching.

“I opened with a pun, and I couldn’t stop talking. I even told them about your socks! The mismatched socks!”

You reach for her mitten hand. “It was just a dream—”

“You had frog stickers on your toes!” she wails.

You sigh. “ENA, I’m not dead.”

She immediately gasps like it’s the best news she’s heard all year. “Oh thank goodness, I didn’t finish the eulogy. I thought I was going to have to improvise!”

Instance 2: The Time You Got Lost, and She Tried to Calm You Down (Poorly)

You’re in the Department of Melancholy again, but this time it’s not by choice. You think the elevator took a wrong turn somewhere around The Division of Dry Cleaned Nightmares.

The air is thick with old perfume and long-distance phone calls. You’re shaking, clinging to a broken office chair, and ENA is squatting beside you like a concerned bird. Her hat is crooked.

“Listen to me, listen,” she says quickly. “I’ve calculated your odds of survival, and it’s not… it’s not good.”

“ENA—”

“But,” she barrels forward, “if you do get consumed by the walls, it’ll be very symbolic. A martyr for the Department’s emotional renovation budget.”

“I don’t want to be a martyr, I want to go home!”

“That’s what I’m saying! Look, if you get absorbed into the décor, you become part of the building. You are home.”

You start to sob.

“Oh no,” she groans. “Oh no, I said the wrong thing again. I am literally bad at comfort. Don’t cry, you’ll summon the Complaint Forms!”

Despite everything, you laugh. A horrible, hiccupping noise. She immediately brightens.

“See! You’re laughing! Progress!”

Instance 3: When You Asked Her What She Thought of You

You hadn’t meant it seriously. It was a lazy question. Something tossed out over lukewarm coffee in a Casino break room, after a long mission and too many hallucinated oranges.

“What do you think of me?” you asked, smiling.

She blinked. Both triangles in her eyes swiveled like they were on rotating axes. Her expression twisted into something unreadable.

Then she launched into it.

“Oh, you’re a mosaic of contradictions. A fever dream in a soft shirt. You smile when you’re scared, and you joke when you’re broken. Your laugh sounds like broken glass trying to flirt with jazz.”

“…Thank you?”

“You’re an investment with too many volatile returns. I’m always waiting for the bottom to fall out—except it never does, and it drives me insane. I can’t predict your emotional market trends.”

You blinked at her.

She pressed forward like a runaway train. “You once complimented a brick wall. You talk to vending machines like they’re people. You say you’re fine, but you flinch like you’re not. And I’ve memorized the angle of your hands when you lie.”

You stared at her. She smiled, bloodshot and too big. “Also, you’re very cute when you eat grapes.”

You spit your coffee across the table.

Instance 4: Her Commentary During a Near-Death Scenario

The floor beneath you exploded mid-jump.

ENA grabbed your wrist just in time, hauling you over the collapsing bridge of kaleidoscope glass, both of you screaming all the way down. You hit the ground hard enough to black out for a second.

When you came to, ENA was hovering over you, babbling.

“Oh thank the fiscal gods, your bones are still in you! Are you alive? Semi-alive? Not dead? Don’t say ‘undead’, I don’t have the tax forms for that!”

You groaned.

“Oh, look at you, all ‘wounded chic’. Your bruises match your aesthetic. Do you want to be carried or dragged? Say the word. Either way, I’m filing a workers’ comp claim on your behalf.”

“…Carried.”

“Wonderful choice, sweetheart!” she sang, scooping you up like a goblin in love. “You’re light as emotional baggage!”

She sprinted toward the exit, cradling you against her chest.

“Good news: we almost died. Bad news: the boss fight’s next. Better news: I found a coupon!”

You didn’t know whether to scream or kiss her.

Instance 5: When You Tried to Say ‘I Love You’ First

You were going to say it. You’d practiced in a mirror. You even wrote it on a napkin once like a high schooler with a death wish.

She’d just finished monologuing about economic collapse in the Wishing Pools, her eyes glittering in the sunset sludge. You looked at her, and your heart hiccupped.

So you tried.

“ENA, I—”

“Oh no, you’re going to say something vulnerable, aren’t you?” she interrupted instantly. “Quick, let me distract you with facts! Did you know the moon isn’t real in six out of nine districts? Did you know I have seventeen things I hate about love and seventeen more that I despise slightly less?!”

“ENA—”

“I do like you, though!” she blurted. “Like, tremendously. In the way a virus likes a host. Or a sales rep likes their highest spender. Or a shadow likes its source!”

“ENA—”

“You make me feel unemployed! Emotionally! Like I don’t have a job except thinking about you and eating cosmic leftovers!”

“ENA—”

“I drew a doodle of us once and then cried because it looked too happy!”

You grabbed her by both shoulders. “Let me finish!”

She froze.

“…I love you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

She screamed so loud the wishing pool cracked.

The One Time ENA Didn’t Say Anything At All

It wasn’t dramatic.

There was no blood, no kaleidoscope collapse, no haunted furniture or genies that demanded emotional vulnerability as payment. Just a Tuesday. Or something approximating it.

The two of you were alone on a carousel of broken creatures.

You’d looped the same small path for hours, circling past walls painted like casino receipts, past rooms that pulsed like living things. But this spot was safe. Quiet. You could hear the sound of her breathing if you closed your eyes.

You were sitting beside her on a cracked countertop. She was watching the ceiling like it might sprout wings and fly away.

And you said, without thinking, “You know, I think you’re my favorite place to be.”

It was quiet. She didn’t say anything.

No monologue. No pitch. No metaphor about feelings being financial disasters. Not even a muttered joke about architecture or celestial real estate.

Just…Silence. Her red side blinked once. Her yellow side stared.

Then, slowly, like it was a decision she had to make with her whole body, she leaned her head against your shoulder. Her cheek rested warm and strange against your arm. Her clawed hand crept over yours, threading your fingers together without ceremony.

You turned to her, and for once, she didn’t meet your eyes like they were puzzles or riddles or treasure maps. She just breathed. Softly. You could feel it. The tremble in her frame. The weight of something unsaid. You didn’t need her to say it. You just held her tighter.

And maybe later, she’d start talking again. About the sky, or the market, or your haircut. Maybe she’d compare you to a broken toaster or a business plan gone rogue. Maybe she’d panic again the next time you tried to kiss her.

But for now? Now she was quiet and that said everything.