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hellfire--cult · 8 months ago

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MafiaBoss!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader

wc: 17k

+18, omegaverse, boss and secretary, possessive behaviour, jealousy, blood mentions, biting, rough, smut, p in v (unprotected), oral (both ways), slight dubcon at a point, mentions of nancy x reader, fingering, heat and rutting behaviour, breeding kink, spit, marking, degradation

Plot: Being the secretary of a Mafia boss was not easy, much less when you believed your boss was your scent mate and you knew he made your omega coworkers stay after hours to fuck them, yet he never called you to stay. It was time to move on, but your boss smelled the scent of another Alpha on you and decided to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

A/N: it was intended to be just a smut thing, never to be this long. Oh well, enjoy 9k words of pure filth out of that count. this isn't the header i intended, but it'll do

Don't be lazy and reblog.

AFTER HOURS

You didn’t want to pay it much attention.

You absolutely didn’t.

But you couldn’t help yourself as you smelled him, walking through the doors a room away. That scent was filled with ash and iron, yet it was intoxicating in the most addicting of ways. You didn’t want to be loving his scent, but you just couldn't avoid it. The omega inside of you always craved to go closer for a deeper smell, but you couldn’t.

He is your boss and you can’t want him this way. You can’t. You’re his secretary, well, one of them. There are four of you in total, always sitting outside of his office at your respective desks. Your coworkers are Omegas, just like yourself, and you have known them for over six months since you started working here.

You found the job offer through a friend of yours, Robin. Your beta best friend that told you her girlfriend was looking for a new secretary at her workplace. You were desperate to leave your old job, being dragged around by a misogynistic Alpha, telling you you were too dumb to be more than a mere assistant, even if you were great at your work and did it all so he would not have anything to do during the day.

You were shoving your resume in Robin’s hands the second she said that. You wanted out, you needed out, and Robin gladly passed it on to her girlfriend. You were called for an interview a week later, but you didn’t expect the job offer to come from one of the highest social buildings in the city.

You never knew what was inside but you could only guess it was a big company of some sort. When walking through the building, you could smell iron all around you, not blood to be exact, but just a strong smell. It smelled… powerful. A scent that intensified the more you walked through the office.

Then you finally saw Chrissy, going into a glassed room for your interview. You had met Chrissy before, but just a wave from afar. Robin told you Chrissy preferred to stay away from social events, or from meeting new people because of her work. That threw you off but your friend smiled apologetically and you didn’t press on the subject.

As the interview went on, the iron smell got stronger, sharper, only for you to turn around and for your eyes to clash against deep brown ones with dilated pupils. The smell was coming from him. From the man dressed in black outside of the room, his face almost touching the glass, his breath fogging it from how hard he was inhaling and exhaling.

You remember how awe-struck you were with him, and you remember how badly you wanted to get up from your chair to rush after him. But you saw him take a step back, giving Chrissy a nod and then walking away. You were confused and looked at Chrissy with a questioning look and that’s when you found out.

This was the Komodo mafia gang. They owned many businesses, residences, buildings… You were being interviewed to be Eddie Munson’s secretary. Eddie Munson is an alpha, and the boss of this gang. The owner. The leader.

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw the doors open, your head whipping to the side to see your boss walking in, ripping his blazer off, the smell of actual blood rushing into the room. All the omegas winced at the smell, as well as the other betas that were walking around with paperwork in their hands.

Your worry raised, unlike the other Omegas who were aroused or scared in the room, you were worried. Did something happen to him? Is the blood splattered on his shirt his own? Someone else’s? Your nose twitched as a sweet note of vanilla invaded you, and you saw Eddie walking by your desk, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Anything I need to catch up on?” His voice was low as he stood in front of your desk and you stood up as you tried to go back into your professional stance, shaking your head.

“No sir. I already knew that Kromstar’s dealership had to be sealed in the morning, so I took care of that.” You stood proudly, chin tilted up as you looked at your boss’s reaction. A small smirk was sent your way, followed by a single nod. You grabbed the paperwork from your desk and raised it towards him.

“Perfect. Good job my Rose.” He leaned forward, his hands reaching to hold the paperwork, but the tip of his index finger ran over yours and your breath left your lungs for a second as an electric shock ran down your spine. Your eyes locked with his as you saw his nose flare up slightly and then he took a step back from you.

“Do you– need me to get you some fresh clothes, Mr. Munson?” You kept your voice to a normal level, steady, professional. He shook his head as his eyes scanned your face, only to then look away and start walking towards his office.

“No, Chrissy already prepared stuff for me.” And like that, the scent slowly went away as he closed the doors to his office behind him. You turned your head to see the other omegas and betas looking at you and then returned to their business.

You sighed as you sat down again. Rose. His Rose. Eddie named his workers with flowers, but the only one that he called by her name was Chrissy. Steve, the male omega, he called Sunflower. Heather, the other female omega, he called Cosmo, and then Carol he called Carnation.

When you were named Rose you were surprised. You wondered what color of rose he pictured when naming you it. Was it pink? Red? White? A rosebud? A single rose? What colors were the other Omegas? Either way, your name caused a string of rumors that didn’t cease until a month later from your first day at your new job.

But he never referred to them as… his. You were the only one. You always wondered why.

You looked up to see Steve and Heather gossiping, and you wondered why you were never close to them. It was fairly civil, but you can’t say you shared a single lunch with them, nor with Carol. You guessed you were not part of their group because–

“Sunflower.” Chrissy’s voice made your head snap towards the big black office doors, her head peeking out. She sent a small greeting smile your way, which you reciprocated before she turned her head back to Steve, who was standing up from his desk so the Alpha knew she had his attention. “Stay after hours tonight.”

You heard a chirp coming from Steve’s way, the scent of lust filling the room as well as happiness. Heather’s scent soured as she received a shoulder wiggle from Steve, showing himself off. Your stomach twirled, moved all around, and you looked down at your paperwork, knowing your scent might be bitter.

You felt your body burn with anger, sadness, and jealousy, the omega inside of you wanting to let out a whine of distress. It was not fair. You were pretty sure you were the one who wanted him the most, you were sure of it… Six months you worked here, six months you’ve seen the other three omegas being called in for after hours, knowing damn well the Alpha was fucking them behind his office doors, and…

You were never called.

Not once. You came to the conclusion he did it to keep it professional with at least one of his secretaries, but– why did it have to be you? Why? His scent drives you crazy, so much so that after that first interview you went into a triggered heat, and you weren’t even near your heat date.

But you felt his stare. You felt it many times. You saw how his nose flared every time he came close to you, smelling you, taking in your scent just like you did with him. Your omega wanted to jump on the Alpha, and much more knowing he is a good man. He donates to schools and helps with the medical bills of many elderly people in the hospitals. Elderly people that have no one or very little. Not to mention how safe you knew you would be with someone like him. You and your pups would be cared for exceptionally.

Your Omega yearns to be submissive to this Alpha, to be bred by him, mated, protected… But Eddie can’t even see you as a random fuck. He sees you as just what you are. His secretary. You are nothing else but his dutiful, professional secretary. Nothing more, nothing less. You were the only secretary he didn’t fuck so that the job gets done, unlike the other three.

But later on, when you were already out of the office doors, you noticed you left your jacket behind. You would have not cared for it and just retrieved it the next day if it weren't for the fact that it was a friday, and it was your favorite jacket. So you went back up, all the way to the 23rd floor.

And god you wish you hadn’t.

The smell of sex filled your nostrils as you walked out of the elevator doors. His scent, spiked, aroused, strong, and fierce. You walked by the cubicles where a few betas were still typing away stuff, only caring for the job to be done. Guards stood by the door where your desk was, your office.

You were let in and you felt your knees weaken and tremble the closer you got to the desk, which was the closest to Eddie’s door. His office. You could hear the purring, the moaning, Steve calling Eddie’s name, and–

“Alpha– Knot me– Knot me, please–”

You felt like vomiting. You needed to get out of there. You needed to run. You needed to leave this place. Your hand snatched the jacket off the back of your chair and you rushed out of the doors and past all the cubicles. You didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t bear to think about Eddie knotting someone.

As soon as the doors of the elevators closed, you let yourself whine and sob a couple of times as tears filled your eyes. Why do you feel so rejected? Nothing ever happened between the two of you. Nothing. The words were very little, and the most physical contact you had with him was the brushing of fingertips when he reached for something that was on your hand.

It didn’t make sense, but it might mean you found your scent mate… only that it’s one-sided. If it is that, you would have to leave the city. Leaving the job only won’t do the trick, you need to leave the city, fuck, even the state.

You felt your belly cramp less and less the more floors you went down and the less you could smell the aroused Omega and the feral Alpha. You can’t keep doing this. Maybe you need the distraction. You need someone else.

These six months you’ve been working here, there was this pull or this sense of respect that didn’t allow you to properly agree to dates or encounters with other people. Not even betas. You didn’t know why but you just felt like you needed to reject these advances. Your hands gripped your purse and zipped it open, taking out your cell phone and opening your Instagram.

Maybe this will help you feel better.

It did, yet it didn’t.

It did because Nancy was very sweet. The Alpha met you through Robin at a party once, and you chatted all night long, exchanging usernames on Instagram with one another. She messaged you a couple of times but soon after you started your new job and you didn’t feel the need to engage with her in such a manner any longer.

And when meeting with her she was kind, and respectful, and you were the one that had to initiate the flirting stance of the night out. Nancy was a good alpha. She looked like she could take care of you, so you didn’t mind when she asked if you wanted to go back to her place.

That’s when your mind couldn’t help but think of someone else when having sex with Nancy.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to imagine him, but you felt like if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to even suck her cock. You don’t know what to make out of it, but you wanted her to knot you. You wanted it so you could confirm if you had an unrequited scent mate situation, and by the looks of it, it seems you did… You didn’t let Nancy knot you. You backed out at the last minute.

Her knot bumped into your entrance a couple of times, but you couldn’t let it in. You just let out warning growls at her everytime it did and Nancy respected it. But, even amidst all of that, you at least had your thirst quenched. Even if a bit and with someone you didn’t truly want.

Now monday, back in the forsaken office you want to burn down to start a whole new torturous week. You were at your desk, putting your paperwork away as Carol talked to you from hers, steps away from yours.

“Someone had fun.” She snickers as she chews on her gum and you glance once at her and back down, Steve’s voice filling your ears.

“Carol, knock it off.” Out of the three omegas, Steve was the most tolerable one. You looked up at him and he gave you a nod and then looked back down at his papers. Carol scrunched her nose and then started writing down on her contracts.

You wondered if the three showers you took were not enough. You were sure it was enough. You didn’t have any marks on you, you told Nancy not to leave any. You sighed at how unprofessional this might make you seem in front of everyone. You tried taking the scent off but it seems it didn’t work and now everyone knows.

The iron scent filled your nostrils and you knew your boss got off the elevator. All of you got up from your desks to receive your boss, but your nose scrunched when you started smelling something bitter or pungent. The doors opened with Eddie, followed by Chrissy right on his heels. His hands were in his pockets as the four secretary omegas gave a nod and a greeting to their boss.

He was about to pass by you but he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head as you saw his nose flaring slightly. The scent in the room became a little suffocating, your knees feeling like they wanted to give up on you and it seemed that it was taking an effect on the other omegas because you could hear Heather whining in fear in the corner of the room.

You didn’t know what was going on, but then another scent joined in, spicy, alarmed. Chrissy was inspecting Eddie’s back and then she slowly turned to face you. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath in.

Your eyes were wide, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you saw Eddie slowly turning to face you. His eyes were black, pure black. You could feel your omega wanting to submit, to ask for forgiveness, but for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, so why is his anger directed towards you?

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice was small and worried, but you needed to know why he was looking at you like he wanted to… kill you?

“Mr. Munson, I think we should head inside.” Chrissy’s hand pressed on his shoulder as Eddie’s eyes kept scanning you, from head to toe. Did you do something? Did you forget to do paperwork on friday? Did you miss a client? No, it’s not like you… but who knows? You are human.

Eddie’s face got closer to yours as you stood there, looking at him as he towered over you, his presence bigger than this room, and you felt like you were being suffocated. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, his breath hitting your face as it came out of his nostrils in harsh puffs.

His face was tense, his jaw clenched, and a vein was popping out on his forehead. Then you heard a low rumble, a vibration and you realized that he was growling. Your boss was growling at you. You whined slightly now, knowing you had done something wrong. You didn’t know what but he was displeased with you, no, he was angry, furious with you.

“Sir–” Chrissy tried again, this time more alarmed, more pressure in her tone, but keeping her Alpha rank below Eddie’s. She sounded worried as she looked at you and then back at Eddie, and– was he going to fire you? What did you do?

Eddie growled loudly as a rough hand made your pen holder fly across the room and hit the wall with force. You gasped and jumped one step back at the sudden aggressiveness, never having seen your boss like this. You were scared, worried, alarmed, but you wanted to apologize, for whatever you did.

The male Alpha huffed once and marched into his office. Chrissy was breathing heavily and then looked at you, shaking her head to calm you down. You didn’t notice the whine that was leaving your throat until Chrissy tried to shush you.

“What– Did I forget to do something on friday?” You were trembling, and Chrissy shook her head and was about to press a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, only to retreat before doing so.

“N-No… he– had a rough weekend. Please, don’t be alarmed omegas, just– Please, have a twenty-minute break and come back.” Chrissy gave you one last glance before she turned and rushed into the Alpha’s office. You looked at the other Omegas in the room and they were as confused as you but more scared. The guard nodded to you all towards the other door, and you wanted to barge into his office and ask if he was okay. Ask for forgiveness, or do something to make him feel better.

But as you were escorted out for your break, you started hearing things breaking inside his office as well as muffled yelling. You held a whine in as your body trembled and then you walked out of your office. You looked at the other three omegas who only crossed their arms at you with frowns on their faces.

“What the fuck did you do?” Heather asked and you shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I– I swear I don’t know, I– I did all my work on friday and I rechecked today and everything is fine?” Your heart wanted to explode and your stomach twisted with nerves and you needed to pace. You needed to let go of the energy that was consuming you. The omegas followed you as you walked towards the balcony to get some air, the murmurs of your other coworkers making your head throb. You didn’t need the speculations or people making more rumors about you. Not right now.

“You did something! Did you check properly?” Steve asked this time and you growled at them, taking them aback. Omegas hardly growled, only when purely distressed or displeased.

“I didn’t! Maybe it was one of you that lacked on their job to get their pussy wet with the boss and since I’m the only one that actually works, I get the fucking blame!” Your voice was loud, high-pitched, angry, and fed up. Carol cleared her throat and scoffed as she squinted at you.

“Don’t blame it on us. It’s not our fault he doesn’t want to touch a single strand of your head.” Your heart plummeted to the ground at that and Steve pressed a hand on Carol’s shoulder only for her to rip it out of his grasp and walk away.

You were looking down at the floor, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You heard Steve and Heather mumble something to one another before walking away, and then all you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. What did you do? What have you done so badly, so wrongly, for him to get angry like this?

Will you get fired? Maybe… Fuck, what if you do get fired? But didn’t you want to? Wasn’t that one of the best decisions for you? You didn’t want to feel this anymore, this rejection, this pain in your gut. You don’t want to be near him any longer, not if you have to watch him be with others all the time. Watch him choose others before you. You can’t keep doing that to yourself.

So maybe if he fires you it is for the best. Whatever the reason might be. You would be able to move on at one point, leaving the city, away from him and his scent. Yes, it will hurt leaving Robin behind, but you can’t bear it. You can’t. Seeing him this angry at you, not only makes you feel little and useless, but also it adds up to the rejection. You feel unwanted, undesired.

You take your time, taking deep breaths before walking back. The other three already returned to their desks, but you took one more minute to yourself. You took a deep breath in before you walked through your office doors and you could hear your coworkers typing away, in silence.

The air was tense, the scent around you all was covered by sprays and blockers, yet you could still smell the bitterness, the sourness, the musk. You just wanted to head home. You needed to head home. Maybe you can call Chrissy and tell her you don’t feel well. Yeah, you’ll do that.

You walked towards your desk and slowly sat down on your chair. As soon as you did, Eddie’s door opened and Chrissy walked out, closing the door behind her. All the omegas snapped their heads to look at her, expectantly, except for you. You knew that when Chrissy walked out of Eddie’s office it meant–

“You’ll stay after hours tonight.” That. She always says that. Wait–

“Huh?” Your head snapped upwards to see Chrissy looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“You’ll stay after hours tonight. No questions asked, you cannot reject it. You must stay.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at how she turned and walked back into the black doors, the guard moving away for her to enter. You looked at the door, and stared at it as if what just happened was a fantasy that happened in your head. There’s–

Your breathing accelerated as you looked down at the desk. This wasn’t like when he asked for Steve or Heather or Carol to stay, wasn’t it? You couldn’t smell anything, fuck, you couldn’t smell what he was feeling at all. You can still smell the bitterness despite the blockers in the room, but you don’t know if it is remnants of before or–

“Hey, hey, you need to calm down.” You didn’t notice Steve was in front of you with worry in his eyes as he rested his palms on your desk. You looked at him, frowning, lip trembling, and you didn’t notice the whines coming from your throat. Your eyes filled with tears as the anxiety consumed you, and you were in clear distress.

“I mean, Steve, she has every right to be like this, it’s not like he is calling her to do what he does to us.” Heather snickered on the corner, disguising her displeasure of you being called tonight, but also calm because the boss was not in a good mood at all. That comment didn’t make you feel any better, if anything, it made you feel worse.

The first time you are asked to stay after hours, and it’s because you might get fired or– killed? It looked like that. He looked like he was going to eat you or rip you to shreds, not sexually. It didn’t look like that for you at all, and the scent he was leaving was a clear giveaway.

“Heather, shut the fuck up, you’re not helping.” Steve bared his teeth slightly at the coworker and all you could do was stare down at your desk. You started frowning as you looked down at your papers. Everything is fine… You know it. You know everything you did was right and on time. Work wise? You were impeccable.

Your posture changed as you straightened up and took a deep breath in. You cleared your throat and gathered your papers and looked at your computer. You will recheck but, you know everything was fine. You looked at Steve and directed a soft smile his way.

“I’m fine. It was nice working with you Steve, I say this just in case we don’t see eachother after today.” Your voice became low, calm as your thoughts settled. Whatever you did, it wasn’t of your knowledge, or whatever someone else did and blamed it on you. You know you did everything right, so even if you’re scared… terrified, you will stand your ground.

Steve only cleared his throat and walked back to his desk as Heather and Carol looked back down to their computers as they shared one look. It wasn’t nice working with them, you weren’t going to lie to them, but Steve was the only one that helped you with stuff, despite him fucking your possible scent mate.

Now it was a matter of waiting, looking at your watch as the hours went by, and your nerves started eating away your intestines, your stomach, just everything. You felt like you were being consumed slowly but you had to keep your head straight. You were not going to be chewed for something you didn’t do, or a misunderstanding, or a rumor.

You might not return to your office tomorrow, so you started putting some of your stuff all together in your drawer, maybe someone will bring you a cardboard box for later on. Steve was looking at you from the corner of his eye, eyebrows frowned as he typed away.

And then, 6 PM arrived. Chrissy walked out from the black doors and looked at the other three Omegas with a sharp look.

“Leave immediately.” Your breath was taken out of your lungs as you heard her authoritative tone, her Alpha voice vibrating against the walls of your office. Steve gave you one last look before he got up from his chair and ducked his head as a goodbye. You stayed in your chair as you saw how the other omegas left the office giving you final glances.

Your heart was accelerated, wanting to break out from your chest and you felt the blood rushing through your ears like a waterfall. You looked at Chrissy and she turned to face the guard. Without a word, the guard that was on Eddie’s door walked out of your office, surprising you because the guards never left.

“Um… why is Geoffrey–”

“You must stay on this floor. The boss doesn’t want…” Chrissy bit her tongue as she looked at you with a frown. You didn’t know if it was stern, or worried, or a mixture of both. “Get inside his office once you do not hear anyone else. Good luck Rose.”

And then you saw Chrissy walking out of the door of your office. You sucked in a breath as you saw from the open door how all the betas were being commanded to leave, which never happened. There were always a few who stayed or did night shifts. Your breath was heavy as you realized Chrissy was clearing out the floor, leaving you and Eddie as the only people on it.

You heard the elevator ding many times as people left. You still couldn’t smell anything, and you didn’t notice you were scratching the wood of your desk from your anxiety. You sharpened your ear until no more dings came from outside. You gulped as you shakily stood up from your chair and looked at the big black double doors.

You stepped away and fixed yourself, wanting to appear unaffected or as professional as possible, not wanting him to know how anxious you were. You took a few steps towards his office, your heels clicking on the floor. You took a sharp deep breath in as your hand trembled, grabbing the door handle. You then opened it and– oh god–

The scent was strong, pungent, making your nose burn. It was a mixture of so many smells, including wood, lemon, ash, and leather? Musk? But you also noticed the hint of bitterness, of sourness. Strong and sharp. It was suffocating, yet– you could feel your belly turning, strongly, pulling you to him. You felt your body growing hot, just like it always did when you caught his scent but this time it was ten times worse.

You held your breath in order to concentrate on your task of walking inside, seeing his back turned to you, behind his desk, and looking out his big windows, going all the way to the very tall ceiling. His hair was tied up in a bun, wearing a black buttoned-up shirt with a loosened burgundy tie around his neck, with the sleeves rolled up just under his elbows and his black pants. He had a cigarette in his hand and you could see the smoke leaving him as it went over his head.

“Lock the door after you walk in.” His voice was demanding, not yet authoritative. You wanted to run away from this confrontation but you knew he would come in contact with you one way or another.

You slowly stepped inside, feeling like every step was one step closer to your doom, or to something unknown. You closed the door and took a deep breath in as you locked the door just as he ordered. Were you… going to die? Did you read something you shouldn’t have? You don’t remember anything that would have made you think you shouldn’t have, so–

“Come closer Rose.” His voice was strained, angry still. You gulped and followed his instructions, slowly taking steps closer to him until you were ten steps away from his desk. The scent was stronger and you felt like kneeling before him as you felt wetness start to pool inside your underwear. You were embarrassed, but maybe he won't notice if you don’t show it. Fuck his scent for making you this way, you might die right now, and all you can feel is being horny?

“Sir… What do you… need me for?” You asked, slowly and mostly submissive, to show him that whatever he says will go, at least for now. You heard a rumble, and you didn’t know if it was a groan or a growl. He took a puff out of his cigarette before speaking again.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not really… Did I do something to make you this displeased?” It was a risky question, but someone had to break the ice for it.

“You did.” You felt your breath being knocked out of your lungs. Fuck, what did you do? What could you have possibly done? Whatever you did was no small thing, remembering how he threw your pen holder across the room.

“I– I checked everything I did on friday and I didn’t notice anything– Was it something my colleagues had to do that–”

“Did she knot you?”

Your mouth fell open as you looked at his back, your heart stopping completely at the question. How did he–?

“What?”

“I asked you a question, Rose, so you answer it accordingly.” And then your boss slowly started turning around, and you felt your blood leaving your body as his eyes, now all black, not a single speck of brown anywhere looked into your soul. You couldn’t see his irises from how dilated his pupils were. His features were clenched, eyebrows tense, and when he fully turned to you, you saw how his chest was moving quicker than normal because of his breathing. “Did. She. Knot. You.”

Your eyes looked into his again, noticing the anger, the rage, the desperation that lingers there. Your scent probably spiked right now because irritation coursed through you. How dare he? Why? You need confirmation that he has the information of your personal life, because, why the fuck would he need it?

“I’m sorry Sir, she?”

“Nancy Wheeler. 27. Journalist. Presented at the age of 15 as an Alpha, moved to the city of Chicago three years ago to pursue her career. She has two siblings, her father, and mother still alive, no Omega mated to her, so this is your last chance to answer. Did she knot you?” His voice was low, commanding, not yet authoritative in his Alpha tone, but it was coming to it. Your lip twitched at this man's audacity, not understanding the reason for the interrogation.

“With due respect, I don’t think my personal affairs are important at all.” And then Eddie’s hands slammed against the desk and your eyes widened when the Alpha’s teeth were suddenly bared, growling at you, the noise sending a wave of daggers across your entire skin.

“I CAN SMELL HER ON YOU!” His voice was loud enough that you felt like the walls shook from its vibration. Your heart was about to explode as you took a step backwards, your belly turning in fear as well as– arousal? Nerves? You couldn’t pinpoint it, but his scent was becoming stronger and stronger and it was making your mind turn hazy and your belly cramp slightly.

How dare he? How dare he ask something like that? Why does he care or why does he acknowledge it? Is it because Nancy’s Alpha scent was stronger than his? Was his ego crushed? You stepped back to the place you were standing, your face stern as you defied your boss, your senses on alert and sharp as you looked at him, trying not to glare to not create more discourse.

“I repeat, I do not believe my personal business has anything to do with you, sir. I do not meddle in yours, except work-related. All professional business.” Your voice was firm and assertive, yet there was a hint of shakiness behind it. Of course there was, Eddie was still baring his teeth at you, the air around you clenching your lungs, tightly, wanting to rip them apart.

He put out the cigarette on the ashtray, or one would say he smashed it into it from the force he sent his hand down. His nose scrunched up in distaste as he clenched his eyes tightly as if trying to contain himself from something. You were overwhelmed with all the Alpha pheromones that were around you, and you couldn’t understand the reason behind the question. You opened your mouth to speak again but he interrupted you with a rough tone.

“Why the fuck did you let another alpha touch you?” He asked but you didn’t know if he was asking it to you or if he was talking to himself because he was still not looking at you. He was clenching his eyes as his hands gripped the edge of the desk. You noticed the veins popping on his forearms, underneath the ink, you could still see the bumps thanks to the reflection of the soft lamps around you.

“Sir–”

“And you didn’t even take her scent off of you. You didn’t wash her fucking scent off your skin.” His eyes looked into yours again, his top lip twitching into showing off his teeth again but he was containing himself so it seemed. You gulped and looked down at your feet, trying to control your breathing as you felt yourself becoming smaller each second he stared at you.

“I– I tried. I thought I managed but– I’m sorry if it is unprofessional–” and you heard him let out a sarcastic chuckle, making you look back up at him.

“Unprofessional? Yes. You can call it that… so I’ll take that stench off of you.” Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead, not understanding the meaning of his words.

“You’ll– I don’t understand?” And the room became silent. You made a displeased sound when you felt some slick soaking your panties and it started being a little uncomfortable. You wanted to bolt out of here, you wanted to go away but you felt– you felt like you were being preyed on. You felt like fucking prey.

“I will take that putrid smell away. I will replace it with my scent.”

And you froze. You felt as if all the blood had drained from your body in just one instant. You couldn’t feel the tip of your fingers as you watched him as he rounded the desk, steps slowly taken, the sound muffled by the single large carpet against the wooden floor. You were breathing as best as you could as your mind processed his words.

His scent? Why? You two–

“We– Why?”

“Because you are mine.” And that made your blood come back to your veins, but it was burning now. His? You’re his? You saw how his eyebrow twitched at the change of attitude inside of you once again.

“Yours? I’m not yours, sir. I am free to do as I please… just like you are.” You saw his jaw clenching at your defiance as he stood in front of you, two steps away, towering over you. He smelled so good, but so strong, so dangerously strong. He squinted his eyes slightly at you as he scanned your body, and then back at your face.

“Time to change that. Strip.” You couldn’t process his words correctly in your brain. What did he say? Why–

“What–?” His eyes were staring into your soul as his hands clenched at his sides.

“Strip.” And you didn’t want to comply, you wanted answers first, or at least for him to realize how hypocritical he was being. Your body trembled with the need of submission but you prevailed, not wanting to fall for it.

“I don’t see the need to.” And that’s when you heard it, the growl, and his teeth were bared once more.

“I said, strip, Omega.” His voice, now authoritative in his Alpha command. You felt yourself become limp, your mind shutting off slightly from rationality and control. You could only tear up as your hands went towards the buttons of your blouse against your will. You wanted answers, you needed them, not do this.

His eyes watched you as you slowly undressed, and every try of you gaining control of your hands once again was useless. If it were another Alpha, you could have probably fought the command, but Eddie was your kryptonite. Now you are sure he is your scent mate, though you are not his. This is enough proof. Not being able to stop at all, even if there might be danger, that’s when your omega is in complete submission to THEIR alpha.

Your hands removed your blouse first, then you unzipped, and dropped your tube skirt, then got out of your shoes. You were not looking at him as you felt your eyes burning, your hands moving towards your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down. The last piece of clothing were your black lace panties.

You didn’t realize you were trembling as your hand got under the elastic of your underwear, but a hand stopped you. A ringed, tattooed hand gently grasped yours and you felt yourself breathing again, for some reason feeling safe. You shortly realized it was him releasing calming pheromones towards you. His feelings were being a whiplash for you, not understanding the brutal change, not understanding if he wanted to intimidate you or rather calm you.

“You– You have your fun with the other omegas… why can’t I have my own?” Your voice came out small, but then you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were black, pitch black. His nose was flaring as he looked at you and his mouth was slightly open, and you took notice of his fangs being enlarged somewhat. You frowned at the display, at how– desperate he looked.

“I will ask… one more time…” His voice low, strained, and there was a hint of begging behind it. “Did she knot you?”

And your face twisted, your scent soured making his nose scrunch up, his eyebrow twitch as he scanned your features.

“Did you knot them? Sunflower? Carnation? All?” You hissed through your teeth, your displeasure known for once and for all, and then, the room felt as if it spun around you, oxygen was exchanged for his smell.

A loud snarl was heard from him, vibrating within himself and you swore you could feel it inside you as well from how intense it was. How alarming. How threatening. How empowering. How… possessive. It made you shiver, whimper, and look at him with eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, excitement, arousal, and nervousness– just a mix of many emotions.

And you knew he could smell you. You knew he could smell the slick, your juices just making a mess out of your thin thong, coming out from the sides and already dampening your inner thighs. You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t help how your limbs were trembling for his touch, and you didn’t have to wait long for it, just not how you expected.

Tattooed hands went towards the loosened tie around his neck and undid it in one single tug. Your heart skipped a beat as he put the tie in his mouth, biting onto it, while he grabbed your wrists, making you gasp at the sudden touch, but then– fear mixed with arousal. He held your wrists together in front of you with just one hand, while he used the other to wrap the tie around them, expertly, and then tying them up together.

It was tight, a small whimper getting stuck in your throat.

His right hand flew to the back of your head, clenching your hair in a warning and threatening grip, a hiss falling from your lips as he pulled your face closer to his. His hot breath falling on your lips like molten lava, his eyes long gone from rationality, and you know, you just know, you cannot defy him. Not now.

“On your knees.” He didn’t use his Alpha tone. He didn’t have to. Despite your fear, the twist in your gut, your dignity yelling at you at the back of your head to not do this, to not become one of his many toys just because his alpha pride was hurt, you still got on your knees. It was slow, and your eyes never left his as you sunk lower.

His hand left your head and went to undo his pants, and the zipper noise made your eyes move to the bulge that was in front of you. You couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to nuzzle your face against it, but you weren’t going to indulge in that feeling. You weren’t going to become putty, even if your omega was jumping happily, making you want to purr in delight and chirp because your scent mate was finally looking your way.

His tattooed hands, scarred even, pulled the zipper down and then his pants went downwards with a push. Your eyes were fixated on the wet stain that was over the dark blue hue of the fabric of his boxers. Your tongue tingled with the need of darting it out to lick on it, needing to taste it, to finally have his flavor in your mouth.

He could probably see it, how your eyes teared up, or clouded, pupils starting to dilate slowly, and how your own wetness was gushing out even more. You wanted to rip the tie off with your teeth, let your hands free to touch him, but– No. You cannot do this. It’s not fair. But it is what you have wanted all along, isn’t it? You closed your eyes to try to keep your brain to yourself, trying to control your body, at least regain a bit of it.

“Mr. Munson– I will not be one more for the collection.” You didn’t expect a low chuckle to escape him, but you could hear the angered growl behind it, expressing how disgusting that comment of yours was. Your eyes opened, looking up at him, only to see enraged eyes and bared teeth directed your way, which only made you tremble in fear, in anticipation, and in eagerness.

“You have no idea what the fuck you are talking about, My Rose.” His. Why is there so much anger coming from the Alpha that is now towering you? You cannot comprehend it. You cannot really understand it. His hands moved, you noticed, and then when your eyes went back to your front, your breath caught in your throat.

His cock sprung out and hit his pelvis as he pulled his boxers down enough to release it. It was thick. The tip was bright red, and it looked like it hurt. You couldn’t help yourself when your mouth started watering, seeing the drop of precum leaking out of the tip. You felt your saliva pooling on your tongue, your eyes fixated on it, and your body was suddenly set ablaze as your wrists tried pulling against the tie with no chance of success of untying yourself.

“Taste it.” Eddie’s voice was low, and commanding, and you didn’t really know if he was using his Alpha tone or not, but your body reacted instantly. Your tongue darted out, and the tip of it scooped up that drop of precum escaping him. You tasted it, mouth closed and if your mind was hazy before, it was now gone. Out of the window who you were before tasting him. Dead was the woman who could probably live without the need to know this taste.

Your eyes were closed as you moaned at how delicious he was. Everything made sense, puzzles were put together, that little earring you thought you lost was found again, you discovered the secret ingredient to a recipe you never got right. And then–

Your eyes opened, revealing that tears had filled them, slick dripping furiously down your inner thighs, body trembling, lip wobbling as you stared up at him. The Alpha that made you simply lose yourself.

“Please… Please…” You begged. You didn’t even need to probably, but you still begged. His hand went towards your head again, his fingertips softly digging into your scalp. His jaw was clenched, strained.

“Open, Omega.” Electricity rushed through your body at the command, at his voice calling you omega. He called you it. And how can you ever defy him? Not now. Not ever. Not after this.

Your eyes looked at the red tip in front of you, and you saw how his dick twitched, bobbing a little, as if anticipating your touch, your warmth. His hand was still on the back of your head, but was not pushing you. Not that it needed to.

Your mouth opened, tongue lolling out just slightly as you leaned forward. The tip touched your tongue first and then you kept going, finally taking him inside your mouth. A pleased growl vibrated through the room, and Eddie could only throw his head back in delight as your warmth finally started to engulf him.

Moaning is the only thing that could be heard from you the more you took him inside. Once you knew you couldn’t go further without choking, you moved your hands to help yourself only to whine at feeling them tied. You could only use your mouth on him, but it was no time to complain. There wasn’t any.

His grip tightened as you started bobbing your head, coating his dick in saliva, all over, slobbering it so much that it started running down the side of your mouth. You didn’t know it, but the Alpha before you was losing his mind, fighting against the animal that was inside of him.

Your moans helped with the vibrations around him, and you felt your entire body just burning inside out. You pulled away to be able to dip the tip of your tongue onto the slit of the head of his cock. He groaned loudly as he looked down at you and then you felt him guide you, which you obliged.

His cock went inside your mouth again, and you started moving faster, but not by choice. If it were your call, you would take your time to taste him properly, try to trace every ridge of his veins so that it burns into your memory because, you don’t know if you will ever have this opportunity again.

Even if your mind was knocked out of the park, you still remember how he has never called on you for months. How he slept with others and not you. How when the slight bit of his ego got damaged, he commanded you to be on your knees for him. So yes, you do not know if this will ever happen again.

So you’ll take this chance.

His hand guided you to move faster on him, your tongue slurping against the shaft, allowing him to slide in easily over and over into your mouth. Your pussy clenched with need around absolutely nothing. The scent of him filling you, sweaty, and with the distinctive little hints of cackling wood in the fire.

Your belly turned at hearing his grunts, willing your eyes to open and look up at him, still moving your head, swallowing him in. He was looking down at you with his eyebrows meeting in the middle, groaning, growling, grunting under his breath. He looked in pain, or was it desperation? You couldn’t figure it out, but it can wait, right now you just want to keep tasting him.

You closed your eyes again, and his hips started moving against your movements, making him go a little deeper, beginning to touch the back of your throat. You started feeling the beginnings of your gags, but you focused on breathing through your nose. His grip tightened at the back of your head and then out of nowhere, he pushed you into his thrust. You yelped, or rather choked a yelp in surprise, feeling the tip of his cock pushing further into your throat.

Your eyes started burning, raising your hands to grab onto his right knee, a silent plea to pull away before you start gagging. But at the same time you didn’t want him away, because your nose was now into his pubic hair, his scent stronger than ever and the omega inside of you was elated.

“Taking me so good in that little mouth of yours. Such a good omega for me.” His voice was strained but you could only purr at his praise, but that action made you lose concentration and you gagged on him, coughing, and his grip loosened for you to pull away. You gasped for air as he got out of your mouth with a pop. You breathed heavily as you felt tears running down your cheeks, looking up at him with a lost look in your eyes.

“Did you say that to them as well?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. Even in your delight, it seems the rejection you suffered these past months was not easy to forget. Not even if you were in the one thing you have wanted to experience all this time.

He was looking down at you in disbelief. He thought he was clear enough, but he was never good with words, and his actions could be better. He snarled down at you, his fangs showing in displeasure, but you didn’t back down and you hissed at him. Your omega wanted answers, defying the Alpha towering over you, and Eddie was taken aback by it.

You felt possessive, needing to know if he had knotted your coworkers, if he had called them omegas, if he had called them sweet yet nasty names. You felt this was your Alpha, and you were angry, saddened, disappointed. He wasn’t yours, but you certainly felt he was, and this is your excuse for the way you’re reacting.

“Dense as fuck. Cute, but aren’t you a dumb little thing?” You were stunned at his insult but you winced when he dug his fingertips into your scalp, pulling you up on your feet once more, and then he continued talking “-- let me do to you things I didn’t do with the rest.”

His lips were on yours in a frenzy, making you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to kiss you at all. He didn’t seem like the man to be keen on kissing, because most of the time people thought of it as intimate, or caring. Maybe he was not one of those people and you were completely wrong about him, because the fact is– You don’t know him at all.

But how could you complain when he didn’t care that you just had him in your mouth? His lips were hungrily devouring yours, tasting himself, and you. He groaned into the kiss, his chest rumbling in delight, resembling a purr that only made you whimper in need, your hands reaching up to grab onto his shirt. Your wrists started to hurt as you kept tugging at them to be able to touch, to feel more, but it seemed that he didn’t intend to take the tie off.

His teeth bit onto your bottom lip, and you winced as he tugged on it before pulling away. Your eyes fixated on him as he licked his teeth with his tongue and you could see the red tint on them. You were bleeding and he was moaning at the taste of it, which only made the slick overflow and run down your legs more than before.

You whined in need as you felt a cramp punching you in your belly. The need of his knot resembled that of a heat, but you knew you were not due yet. The last one you had, you asked for a week off, and it was a month ago. You had to wait for another month for your next heat, so you didn’t understand why you were cramping.

Was it because of him? Was it just his mere scent and touch enough to induce you into a placebo of a heat? Into the feel of it? He was clearly your scent mate, there was no question now. There were no doubts. To make you feel like a bitch in heat at any time of the month, that is only something scent mates are able to do.

His eyes found yours as you licked your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your own blood. It wasn’t a deep or long cut, but it was still a small one. His chest rumbled as he took a sharp intake of breath in, smelling you, your arousal, your slick. His eyes closed for a second as you stared at his features, wanting to grab onto his face and kiss him again, but– you were not able to.

“I need to fucking taste you.” You gasped at his words and then you were guided towards his desk. You saw him just throw everything on the floor, including important paperwork. You knew it was important because it was the same thing you have been working on the last week. Once the desk was cleared and he turned to face you again, you opened your mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by his hand gripping your bicep, tightly and pushing you against the desk, your hip hitting the edge of it.

You whimpered in pain, knowing very well that it would leave a bruise on your skin. Your breath got caught in your throat when his hands pressed on your waist and lifted you off the ground in order to place you on the desk. His breaths were heavy, looking at you with intensity and purpose. A shiver ran down your spine when his digits dug into the skin of your waist, fingernails seemingly sharper as it scratched your flesh.

A yelp escaped your lips as his hands pushed on your shoulders, making you fall back, laying down on the desk and quickly, his hands moved to your knees in order to spread your legs for him. You whimpered as you could tell there was a string of your slick connecting both your inner thighs, the cold air making it obvious. Tears of embarrassment filled your eyes as you turned your head to the side, hiding your face behind your tied hands.

“Don’t you dare fucking hide your face from me.” You didn’t listen, not caring for the warning growl he directed your way. Suddenly your hands were engulfed by a singular larger one and pushed upwards, over your head, your knuckles slamming against the hardwood of the desk. Your breathing hitched as your head looked back at him, a piercing and threatening gaze as he bared his teeth for your submission.

His eyes went towards your breasts, and without a second to waste, he dove downwards, taking your right nipple into his mouth. Your body jerked at the touch, and you bit your bottom lip to hold back a moan, only to whimper in pain as you remembered you had a cut. You realized he did it on purpose so you wouldn’t be able to bite onto anything to hold back your noises.

His tongue swirled on your perked nipple, making your stomach jump at the attention, his scent spiking up with a hint of sweetness, delight. An appreciative growl, a low purr vibrated in his throat at your taste, at your reaction to him. His free hand went to rub your left nipple, his calloused fingertips rough to the touch, and then he nipped on your right one, making you gasp as your back arched, his hand holding your wrists tightening.

He pinched and bit and sucked on your nipples like a man starved, like this was the one thing he had been dreaming about for an eternity. Your eyes widened in the haze of your lust as you saw him rubbing his neck against your breasts, passing his scent gland all over. He was marking you, putting a claim on you that you didn’t think he deserved even if you wanted it and wanted to chirp in contentment.

“Sir–”

“Alpha.” He demanded and your eyes clashed with his again. He was right on your face, eyes dark as he asked you to call him the one thing you have been wanting to call him the moment you smelled him six months ago. Why now? Should you comply? Should you call him what he wants, needs?

“A–A–” You tried, but you knew that the moment you called him that way, you were going to enter in a mild state of a hivemind. Your rationality will fade slowly, only caring for the knot of the Alpha that was towering over you right now. His knot, his scent, his bite. You felt his hand leave your wrists but before you could lower them, his hand grabbed your chin roughly, making you pucker your lips as you felt the rumble in his chest.

“I’m your Alpha, Omega, and you will call me as such.” He spat through his teeth and you could only whine, which got cut short when a moan replaced it. His hips pressed against yours and you could feel his cock pressing against your clothed, wet and throbbing cunt. You felt yourself clench at nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were fucking desperate.

“Y–You… are not mine… and I’m not yours.” Your voice was muffled by your puckered lips and he only hissed at you in complete displeasure, in disgust towards your words.

“We’ll change that tonight. Once and for all.” He removed his hand from your breast and held onto the elastic of your thong. You gasped in pain as he pulled, the lace digging into your skin the more he stretched it until you heard a rip. You hissed at the burn the pull left on your hip, and then his hand left your face, letting you move your jaw freely once more.

Your mind raced at his words, not knowing what he meant, looking at the ceiling as if it would whisper the answer to you, whisper the meaning of this whole act towards you, but your body jerked out of its trance when you felt his tongue running from the middle of your chest and downwards, tasting your sweat.

Your back arched as you held a moan in, trying not to bite onto your bottom lip when he pressed the tip of his tongue onto your belly. He was closer to where you had been wanting him the most for so long. You should stop this, but can you? Do you even have the willpower to do that? The answer was simple when you felt like puking at the idea of stopping him at all.

You felt his breath hit your pussy, your ripped thong still dangling on your right inner thigh. You shivered since the air made the wetness become cold, and you put your hands on your chest, not knowing where to place them. You heard him inhale deeply, a low rumble being heard from him.

“You smell so delicious… so fucking good My Rose.” You whined at the name, wanting to tell him to call you Omega, just like he demanded you to call him Alpha. You needed to hear it again, for your own sanity before you became someone that does not know the word ‘dignity’.

“I–” You couldn’t even start talking that his hot tongue licked your slick off your inner right thigh first, and he moaned in pleasure. Your eyes widened at the feeling of it, but mostly at the sound that came out of him, and it prompted your pussy to clench and more slick to come out on a string and down towards the table below you, at the edge of it.

He licked your left inner thigh now, slurped on it and then sucked on your skin, taking your cold juices into his mouth. Your breath was stuttering at the feeling as your pussy clenched and clenched, and you wanted to yell at him, to please touch you, lick you, eat you, just anything–

And your eyes widened when he flattened his tongue all over your slit to take a long lick from it. It felt divine, you were finally in bliss as your body felt like it was in flames. It felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water on you, but it was a temporary relief. Unbeknownst to you, your boss was trembling at the taste of you as his dick twitched in absolute need.

The resemblance of a purr could be heard in the room, not coming from you, but from him. His hands dug into your inner thighs, fingertips marking you as he stared at your pussy, his breathing becoming slightly erratic the more he looked at it. And then, he didn’t hold back.

He went in, starved, desperate, his lips circling around your aching clit and sucking on it as he kept your legs spread for him. You gasped at the feeling and finally let a moan escape your lips, but Eddie was not even listening. You could smell his scent becoming stronger than before, and you couldn’t help but purr at the notice of high arousal, of pleasure, and it was all because of one lick on your pussy.

His tongue started lapping in between your folds, running all over and slurping all the slick that just kept coming out of you. He was moaning into you as you arched your back at every flick to your clit. He was making the most obscene sounds against you and you were loving it. You felt him pull away from you, a growl of pleasure escaping him and you wanted to look down but you couldn’t use your elbows to push yourself up to do so.

“You taste so good. So fucking good. I’m addicted, I knew I would be, but jesus fuck–” His tongue went back on you, a moan leaving you as he licked your clit and sucked on it to create that amazing friction you ached for. What does he mean? What does he mean by ‘he knew’? Did he want to do this to you before?

“Why– Why didn’t you ever–” You gasped when you felt his tongue sliding inside of you, your back arching towards the ceiling and the small of your back aching at the hardness of the desk below you. Your body was lit on absolute fire, burning you from inside out, not caring if you died in the process of it. It was almost unbearable.

He moaned loudly into you, his dick leaking precum each second that passed, twitching in need at the feel he has around his tongue. He wants to feel the fluttering of your walls that are on his tongue, around his cock. His nose rubbed against your clit as he shook his head a bit at you. He pulled away to run a finger over your slit, covering it in your juices.

“Look at it… So pretty for me. So ready to receive her Alpha.” Your pussy clenched on nothing at his praise, a purr vibrating in your throat as your hips moved against him, making the Alpha smirk in victory. “You want that, My rose? Want me to be your Alpha?”

You didn’t know if he was messing with you or not. How many times did he use this as his dirty talk when fucking Steve? Carol? Heather? How many times did he say these things to them? How many times have they fallen for this trick?

“Don’t– Don’t play with me.” A warning snarl was sent your way and your back arched as he roughly introduced his middle finger inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I’m going to make you beg for my knot. I’m going to hear you screaming for me. I’ll make sure of this.” His finger twirled upwards as he started thrusting in and out of you in short yet striking movements. Your soft spot was rubbed on, over and over again, and the moans were coming out of your mouth without any self control.

Your mind started becoming fuzzy the more pleasure you felt, the more slick that came out of you, and the more he moaned against you at each flick of his tongue on your clit. You didn’t want to comply with his orders, but you couldn’t fight your omegan instinct much longer.

“Oh– fuck!” You yelled out as you felt his ring finger join his middle one, his tempo increasing as he sucked on your clit, and the gushing sounds of your juices could be heard around the room, mixing with your moans, with his groans, and the smell of pure arousal was intoxicating and just making the both of you feel as if you were high.

The coil in your belly started turning, wildly, and you knew you were going to have a strong one. The one person you consider ‘Your Alpha’ was touching you the way you’ve always wanted, and by him and him only. How could you not purr? Chirp? Moan loudly?

Your hands went down to grab onto his hair, who had the bun already a bit messy from his movements, and even with your wrists tied, you managed to cling to him. He moaned into your pussy and your walls started clenching all around his fingers and that’s when you felt him add his index finger, your eyes widening at the stretch, but you felt a certain relief, like a wave of cold air washing over you.

“You need to be ready for my knot. C’mon Omega, cum around your Alpha’s fingers.” You moaned when he called himself your Alpha. As if it were true. As if he truly was just yours and for a moment you believed him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the loud squelching of juices even more depraved than before.

“Ed–Ed–” You stuttered out in between moans only to receive a growl in response and then you yelped as pain and pleasure mixed as he bit your clit, and even if it was gentle, it was still a sensible area. It was a warning, a threat to comply with his previous order.

“Say it.” And he twisted his fingers upwards as he made short thrusts yet quick and you felt your belly about to explode, your fingers digging into his hair as you pushed his head into you. Your knees were now bent, and you saw them tremble on the sides of his head. Your body started to shake as your mouth fell open and your eyes started going to the back of your head.

“A–Alpha!” Your orgasm crashed on you like a train, shaking you all over, short circuiting your brain and leaving you gasping for air as stars filled your vision. Eddie only cursed under his breath as his mouth latched onto your clit to help you ride your orgasm out, your pussy clenching around his fingers like a vice, and your slick was just running down, dripping from you.

He moaned at the taste of your orgasm, different to your normal slick. It was sweeter, tastier, and more intoxicating. Your grip loosened once you felt yourself stop trembling wildly, your walls unclenching from around his fingers as you slowly came down from your climax. Your breathing was heavy, feeling drained from how hard your orgasm was just now. You called him Alpha. You gave in.

Your eyes were closed as you felt him leave your clit, and slowly pulled his fingers out from you, making an involuntary whine escape your throat at the loss of him. You felt defeated. You gave him what you didn’t want to give to someone who only sees you as one more notch in his belt. Another Omega he knotted.

Your nose scrunched up as the air around you smelled way too intense, so much that you felt it prickle your nose. You couldn’t quite identify what it could be, but you felt like the appropriate word would be, desperation. Your eyes opened and you saw Eddie looking down at you, your slick all over his mouth, his fangs enlarged, his pupils blown out, and–

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. You were in the presence of an Alpha that had a triggered semi-rut. Your eyes went down to his still exposed pelvis, and his dick was larger, and just purely red and pulsing with need. Precum just oozed out from the tip and dripped down the shaft, and it was all for you.

And your mind was gone.

“A– Alpha…” You whimpered as your hivemind took over. Your irises were gone from how wide your pupils were, and your slick was overflowing the edge of the desk and falling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. You raised your knees towards your chest, letting you show off your pussy to him, presenting yourself in a semi mating press.

He licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest moving up and down as he hissed through his teeth. Your Alpha, for some reason, you felt like he was fighting against something. It felt as if he was trying to fight off the rut. But you didn’t want him to. Maybe he knots you, and breeds you, hopefully. You want a pup with him, a pup from your scent mate, yes.

“Please, Alpha, my Alpha…” You begged and that was enough for Eddie to come out of his trance, his hands moving to the back of your knees for support as he moved his hips forward, and his cock ran over your slicked folds, making you moan desperately as you salivated in your mouth. “More, more, more–”

“Yes my Omega. My beautiful Omega… My Rose, your Alpha will give you more. Always.” His tip caught on your entrance and you gasped and you showed your Alpha your wrists, begging for him to take them off so your hands could touch him properly.

“I need to touch you, please, I’ll be good, I promise!” He immediately worked on the tie, yanking it off, probably ripping it apart in the process, and your hands shot up, trying to unbutton his shirt, whining with need to see, touch, feel his skin. His hands grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and he pulled, the buttons snapping and the shirt was ripped open, a breath of relief leaving his lips.

Your eyes scanned the tattooed chest, just a few tattoos here and there, scars that littered all over his stomach as well. You could hear your heartbeat into your ears, your body setting on fire at the sight of the layer of sweat covering his skin. Your hands, now with painful markings around their wrists but you could care less about that now, went forward to touch his stomach.

Fingernails scratched onto the flesh as another thrust of his hips made the tip enter you for just a second, a desperate whimper leaving your lips as you looked up at him with a pleading look. Why isn’t your Alpha taking you? Does he not want you? Are you not as pretty as the others? Your belly cramped, making you clench your eyes as pain shot towards your entire body.

“She didn’t knot you, didn’t she?” Your eyes shot open at the question and you looked at the man towering over you as his grip tightened underneath your knees. You wanted to tell him the truth, comply, but you were also feeling betrayed, used, and played with.

“D-Did you knot them?” Your voice was small and shaky, knowing you weren’t in the position to question the Alpha. You were in a vulnerable state, completely open for the kill.

And with a loud growl, the biggest one you heard him give yet, he seethed himself inside of you in one powerful thrust.

You threw your head back as you shrieked at the sudden stretch, at the sudden pressure and the pain. It wasn’t great, but it was still painful, yet, your cramps stopped, just a little bit. They stopped stinging like knives, leaving a pain that can only be calmed by a knot. His knot. Tears ran down your cheeks as you gasped for air, your mouth open while you stared at the ceiling, and he bottomed inside of you, inch by inch.

He was big, the biggest you’ve ever had and it felt good, yet painful even with the foreplay. You pissed him off with your response, and you knew it because you could still hear him growling inside of his chest, groaning at the feel of you around him.

His pelvis clashed against yours and you guided one of your hands towards your belly and you could swear you could feel him when you pressed. He was too deep inside of you and– and– you needed him to move. He needs to move. Your cramps are coming back as well as the cloudiness of your mind.

“P-Please Alpha, move–”

“I won’t move until you tell me.” His voice came out through his teeth as he looked down at you. More tears ran down your eyes as you tried to move your hips against him and he snarled at you in warning. “Tell me!”

“She didn’t! I couldn’t! The only– The only knot I want is–” And a sob ripped out of you as you looked at the man above you. It wasn’t fair, to be in this state and having no control, and knowing that after this, it would be forgotten, a fling of the moment because his ego got smashed.

“Is mine. The only knot you want is mine… And it’s the only one you’ll ever get from now on.” And his hips reeled back, only to slam themselves against you once again, making you choke up on a moan, your breath being knocked out of you instantly, the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part inside of you.

He felt divine, the burning of the first thrust slowly dissipating the more he moved his hips, going in and out of you as you adjusted to his size. The cramps were obscured by the waves of pleasure that your body started to feel, your limbs becoming limp for him to maneuver however he liked.

His fingertips were bruising your skin and his eyes were fixed where the two of you were connecting over and over again, and he grunted in pleasure at the sight, seeing himself disappear inside you, filling you up and feeling your cunt squeezing him, friction burning him from head to toes.

“Ah–” You gasped into your moan as he straightened up to pick up the pace, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving the tip inside, only to then go back in at a steady pace. Your hands flew to the edges on each side of the desk, trying to ground yourself as your mind reeled, your Omegan pheromones only making the Alpha in the room even more feral.

“So good, fuck, you feel so good baby. So, so, so fucking good.” He hissed out, his eyebrows meeting in the middle, a strained look on his face as his jaw clenched, still looking down at his cock going into your pussy, and he could see how your slick overflowed all around him.

You chirped at the praise as you bounced on the desk at each hit of his hips against yours, moans coming out of both your mouths and your rationality shut off once more as another cramp suddenly hit your belly. You weren’t being satisfied. Your needs were not being met and you were becoming restless.

“M-More…” You whimpered and he only tsked as he kept the same pace, not relenting to your begging.

“More what?” He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was playing with you. Tears of exasperation filled your eyes as you moved your hips in retaliation, making him hiss at you from the sudden action.

“More please? Please Alpha… I need– Faster, rougher– It hurts, it hurts–” And you were referring to that in so many ways. How your cramps hurt right now because your body needs and requires his knot, or how your whole soul hurt these past months knowing he never chose you for this before. He chose others, right in your face.

“Anything for my dumb little omega.” You didn’t know why he was insulting you, but you had no time to think. Your eyes widened as you gasped, followed by pleased mewls and loud moans as his hips started snapping against yours, the slapping on skin bouncing on every wall and bookcase, echoing thanks to the tall ceiling above you.

You now realize why he made everyone leave the entire floor.

His pace was rough, deep and fast, fucking into you desperately and your fingernails dug into the wood of the edge’s of the desk as you felt your insides being basically rearranged by him. Your cramps were still there but getting his cock inside of you helped somewhat, the pleasure overpowering it at times. You were loud, crying your moans out, your breaths, your huffs, and the yelling of his name.

His eyes were fixated now on your body, how it moved up and down thanks to his movements, your tear stained face, your open mouth that only let out filthy sounds, mumbling his name on the low in the haze of it all. You felt yourself start to flutter around his dick, the abuse against your g-spot making it an easy climax from the overstimulation. New tears prickled your eyes as your body jerked at every thrust, your belly coiling up, causing another cramp to happen. You whined loudly as your hips started meeting with his thrusts, desperately.

“Please, please, Eddie, my Alpha, more–” You were begging, pleading, imploring him to help you, because you were feeling good, but you weren’t at the same time because you needed more, your body still unsatisfied. You knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t just his knot. You wanted his bite.

“Tell me what you want.” You mewled as his thrusts turned deep, his hips coming to a slower pace and he circled them against you. You didn’t want to tell him, it is too embarrassing, knowing he is only doing this just for lust, and that he has done it with the rest, many times. Suddenly, a cry tore out from your mouth and you looked at Eddie with his teeth biting into your right calf. Your body jerked at the sudden bite, and your hands flew in reflex to try to grab him, but you weren’t strong enough to push yourself up and towards him.

“It hurts– Stop–” He growled as he pulled away from your skin, blood at the corner of his mouth, teeth glistening with a crimson hue. You looked at the bite, at his mark in your flesh and you chirped at the sight, wanting the same mark around your mating gland. It looked so pretty, so perfect, and it felt like you were owned. He hissed at you and his hips came to a halt, bottoming out inside of you.

“Tell me what you want. I won’t continue until you tell me.” His jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck popping out from how much he was holding himself back from continuing your very destruction. You whined once more as you felt the burning of his bite on your calf, a drop of blood oozing out.

“I– I can’t– Not when you knotted… the others– embarrassing, Alpha, it’s embarrassing–” You were sobbing now, the pain from the past six months rushing back to you in a wave, clashing against the happiness you feel now, making you a bit dizzy from the mix of emotions.

You heard him sigh and you dared to look at him through your tears, and he was looking down at you with a pained look. Why is he looking at you like that? Maybe it’s pity? Or maybe he feels sorry for how dumb you are? How naive? Or maybe–

“Oh my Omega… I have never knotted any of them.”

Your eyes fully opened at that, your heart thrumming in your chest as your body shook with excitement against your own will. What did he say? You saw his tongue darting out, his hand caressing your calf gently and pushing it towards his mouth so he can lick the wound clean. He side eyed you as he did this action, making your pussy clench around him, making the both of you hiss, remembering the position you are in.

“But– But I heard–”

“And I never complied.” He took his hands off your calf and the back of your left knee to lean forward. Your breathing was erratic, your hands immediately flying to hold onto his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands caged you in, one on each side of your head as he looked down at you. “-- I couldn’t comply.”

You blinked with confusion and doubt in your eyes. You wanted to believe him, you really wanted to, but–

“Why?” Was the question flying out of your mouth and he leaned down towards you, his lips finding purchase on yours and you could only purr out of instinct, your heart exploding with happiness and joy inside your chest, trying to take the spotlight off of the thunder raging in your head.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist, pushing him into you. You both groaned at the action, making him pull away from the soft peck, his pupils back to being completely dilated and you moaned as his cock twitched inside of you. A growl escaped him as he quickly wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you off the desk, a gasp leaving your lips and your grip tightened all around him.

You knew his instincts kicked in again, his mind clouded once more, but the knowledge that he never knotted the others was starting to settle in your head, and it was slowly making you go back to that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was being bred and knotted by the Alpha that was holding you tightly in his arms.

You felt yourself being lowered and the carpet hit your back, your eyes finding the ceiling once again. His hands grabbed onto your knees and he pulled them away from himself, making you untangle your legs from his waist. He bared his teeth at you as you didn’t let go of his shoulders, and you quickly complied, submitting yourself to him.

“Good Omega. My Omega.” He suddenly pulled out from you as he kneeled back and you whined with a sob, lifting yourself with help of your elbows to look at him.

“NO! Alpha, please, I need your knot, please– Why are you doing this? I–” His hand pressed against your chest and pushed you back down, snarling at you to let him work. You gasped when he grabbed onto your knees, keeping them apart, but then roughly pushing them up towards your chest, and you felt your hips rising from the ground, bending your body slightly.

His knees were now on each side of your hips as he leaned forward, towering over your frame, his cock twitching and your eyes could see the base of his cock pulsating, ready for his knot to pop. You purred and salivated at it, wanting it, desiring it, needing it and then you realized–

You were put in a mating press.

His cock went in with one harsh thrust, and you swear you could feel him at the back of your throat as you threw your head back. Your hands grabbed onto the carpet below you for some grounding, but you only let yourself smile in pleasure, in bliss, as you felt him burn inside of you.

His knuckles were white from how hard his grip was on your knees to keep you in that position. A position that helps with fecundation. He groaned loudly when you clenched around him, your climax coming back to you as if it had never left moments ago. Your belly ached, cramped, turned, but most of all, it burned. It was burning you with the need of release, the need to be filled, the need of him.

His thrusts started quick and powerful, knocking the breath out of you at each jerk, the carpet burning your back as you rubbed it back and forth. You couldn’t care less. Not the burn of the back or the pain of your wrists or the bite on your calf. He could hurt you, bend you, break you, and you would be fine with all of that. At least, you mean something to him that way. Something different than the rest.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re fucking mine.” He growled, over and over again while he fucked into you like a madman, like an animal. He was sweating, your eyes following every drop, his hair clinging to the sides of his face, and he was the most beautiful person in this whole wide world. He is calling you his, maybe thanks to his small triggered rut, but you had no time to feel the pain of that realization yet.

“Alpha, it feels so good. Fill me up, please, pretty please–” You didn’t recognize your voice. Needy, dripping with lust and pleasure, and you don’t remember a single time you talked like this. Not even when you shared your heats with your ex. You never begged like this. This is what a scent mate does to someone. It turns you fucking stupid.

The slapping of skin was filthy, wet sounds following them because your slick was being produced at each thrust of his. It was probably a mess, and you know it because you turned your head to see the edge of the desk you laid on moments ago, and the side had your slick dripping down in a single streak towards the floor, and a small pool of it formed at the foot of the desk.

His thighs were drenched in you, and you moaned loudly at the thought, your eyes returning to meet his. He moaned your name under his breath and you trembled at the sound of it. He called you by your name, not rose, not omega. Your name. It made your belly come closer and closer to the edge, pussy fluttering and clenching all around him as he continued his powerful thrusts.

Your vision became blurry as tears mixed with how cockdrunk you became, but you could see a thin silver necklace dangling from his neck, back and forth. Your nails dug into the carpet underneath you as your breath picked up a pace, feeling the coil in your stomach and belly turn wildly, your orgasm threatening you to explode at any second.

“Alpha– Alpha– I’m–” And he grunted as your eyes widened with a surprised gasp when you felt the beginning of his knot start to hit your entrance. You could feel it popping in and then back out, his teeth bared and he finally looked at you, a yellow glint flashing in his eyes as he stared down at you.

“I’m going to knot you. I’m going to knot you and breed you, over and over and over again… And I’m going to mate you.” You didn’t know if you were making it up, you didn’t know anymore. It sounded way too good to be true– “Oh, you don’t believe me?”

Your eyes widened, shock washing over you as you tried to talk, only for loud cries to escape your lips when his thrusts became hard, rough, and the knot started swelling more and more, making it a little painful when it started popping in and out of you. Your mind was a haze, the only need being his knot. His knot. His knot.

“Alph–” You couldn’t talk because of this position, which was a bit straining, and the air was just simply knocked out of you at each thrust. You couldn’t breathe properly, feeling as if you were going to pass out. His teeth were now bared, fangs just slightly enlarged, snarling as he huffed in pleasure.

“You’re mine. All mine. Forever mine, my omega.” Your pussy clenched at the words, your mind no longer your own, and you cried out as your climax finally hit you, tightening all around his cock and now, his knot swelling instantly, impossible to pull out without hurting you, so he braced himself on his knees to push deep into you, and then he moaned loudly as his breath trembled when he locked himself inside of you, his cum filling your belly.

Your pussy milked him as your cramps finally stopped, leaving you in the stars. Your trembling was intense as you felt him spill inside of you and the more you clenched, the more cum he let out. It was never ending, the both of you moaning, groaning, and purring. He moved his hips once, a whimper leaving your lips and a growl rumbling in his chest.

He let go of your knees, his breathing heavy, his nostrils flaring as he leaned forward, his upper body bending as one hand cradles the back of your head, while the other holds your left bicep. His eyes clashed with yours, breaths intertwining between the two of you, chests heaving as the scents inside the room made your head spin.

He leaned down and you felt him lick the scent gland on your neck, his cock twitching inside of you and you swore you could feel more cum leaking out from him. You groaned, your eyes closing as he tasted you. His chest rumbled as he pressed his own scent gland against yours, true to his word. He cleansed the other alpha’s smell from you, replacing it with his own. He then proceeded to scent your mating gland, which only broke you.

He marked you in ways he probably doesn’t understand. After this, the two of you will go back to boss and secretary. You will have to leave, leaving this, leaving him behind you. Turn him into your past. You will probably have to go to an omegan therapist after this, and you would also leave Robin–

And the world stopped.

Everything. The universe. The stars. Your own breath. Your heart. Time itself. What…?

And then, fire. Fire spreading all over you coming from your mating gland. Your mating gland that was suddenly bitten into by the alpha that had his knot deep inside of you. You were bitten. He bit you. He claimed you. You were now his.

A scream ripped out from your chest as another orgasm came crashing out of nowhere, clenching around him like a vice, milking him even more. He moaned into your skin, the hand on the back of your head holding you tightly as you shook underneath him. You didn’t understand anything. He was telling the truth. Eddie… Your– Your Alpha. He was your alpha now. For real.

He pulled away from you with a gasp for air, your blood all over his lips and teeth. You could feel his pleasure. His joy. His desire. His fear. His nervousness. His ecstasy. His delightfulness. Everything. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, your shock still apparent, even if the kiss sent a million jolts of electricity through your body.

He pulled away with a chuckle and he proceeded to lean down again, pushing your head into his own mating gland this time. Your eyes were lost as you wondered what he wanted, his smell slowly bringing you down to earth once more, time moving again, the stars and the universe continuing their course.

“Bite me. Bite me back Omega.” Surprise was displayed on your features as soon as he said those words. It wasn’t common for omegas to bite their alphas back to seal the bond, the mating process, but people say it’s for the bond to be permanent, for eternity, for the mates to find eachother in this time and the next.

Your hands went towards his back, your nails dragging across his shirt, he never took it off. You could feel how damp it was thanks to the sweat, clinging to his body, and now– your eyes filled with tears, knowing now that he also knew you were his scent mate. This was never one sided. You have a lot of questions to ask him, but now… right now–

Your small fangs pierced through his mating gland.

He gave a small whimper as you felt iron filling your mouth. His blood. His scent. He was now all over you, and inside of you, in every sense and way possible. You moaned at his taste when you felt him twitch inside of you once more, his knot pulsing. You couldn’t believe it. As you retreated your mouth from him and laid your head back down on the carpet, you finally smiled.

He looked down at you, and you knew he was hoping you weren’t mad at him. He took your liberty and freedom in a single night thanks to his jealousy. To his possessiveness. To his fear of losing you. Your right hand moved towards his face, caressing his cheek gently, and he gave you a reassuring smile, closing his eyes, leaning towards your touch.

This is the first time you saw him like this. Vulnerable. A true smile of happiness on his lips, and it was all because of you. How could you be mad at him when he gave you what you’ve been wanting for the past six months you’ve known him? Something you didn’t think was possible, or that it was just in your head, or it was simply one sided? No… You could never be mad at him for it.

“My Alpha…” You whispered, your breaths starting to slow down as exhaustion started to wash over you, knowing your body will ache the following day, but you couldn’t care less. His eyes opened again, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, a huff escaping his nose in pure delight. He pulled away a second later, his right hand caressing the side of your face, wiping your tears away. Tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your eyes.

“My Omega… Mine only… so dumb for not realizing what I was trying to say…” Your eyes closed as a satisfied sigh escaped your lips, relief washing over you. His hand kept caressing your face, his soft lips pressing on your forehead, your cheek, tender and caring. Keeping you safe in his arms, his embrace being your safest nest, at least for tonight.

“Eddie…” You mumbled as your consciousness started to slip away as slumber started to overtake you. You heard your name being called out by him after a soft kiss was pressed against your forehead. Your heart now filled with joy, your mating gland ablaze, but you could not feel the pain.

“Rest darling… I’ll keep you safe.”

And then, darkness.

His back was against the headboard of the bed hidden inside his office. He just had to press a button and a bookcase would fall down to reveal itself as a king sized mattress. He held his cellphone on his left hand, calling on Chrissy while his right arm was around your sleeping frame, completely knocked out as you laid on your side, your head on his chest and right hand over his heart.

Once he knew his knot had deflated, he got you both in a more comfortable position. He will have to explain himself to you but now, he had to–

“Tell me you didn’t boss.” Chrissy’s voice blasted in his ear, making him hiss and pull the phone away from him. His fingers were softly brushing your back, keeping you asleep.

“It is done.” His voice was low as he looked down at you, your breaths coming out from your mouth evenly and calm. A soft smile appeared on his lips, feeling the wound of your bite pulsing and burning on his shoulder, but it only made him happier. He heard Chrissy letting out an exasperated sigh on the other side of the phone, making his smile fall and look out the window.

“We haven’t solved the issue with the Hagans. You had to wait until that was finished! They will now know about your mate and target her!” His jaw clenched as his arm tightened around your frame, making you whimper slightly at the tightness but not in pain, just a sound in your sleep.

“I won’t let them touch her, you know that.” Chrissy sighed once more. He knew his right hand was right, but he couldn’t– “Chris, I couldn’t let her slip away from me. She is my scent mate. It was going to happen sooner or later, and the other omegas were not a useful distraction any longer.”

“I know Eddie…” There was a moment of silence before Chrissy continued talking, “but it doesn’t take away the fact that she will be targeted from now on. Something you were trying to avoid all this while by keeping your distance… So, what now?”

And Eddie pondered. He looked out the window as his mind worked, the need to protect you now ten times bigger, may he say twenty thanks to the bond. You two are mated for life now. In this life and the next, and the next, and he has to protect you with everything that he is, even if his own life is at risk.

“Then I guess I have to kill Tommy once and for all and take the clan for myself.” Chrissy remained silent on the other side. It wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. He was going to do it peacefully, but Tommy was not a bright or reasonable leader. He was never happy about Eddie’s negotiations, always threatening him and his group, and Eddie knows he will threaten your life in order to get what he wants.

So he prefers to have Tommy’s head in his hands than wait for him to do something stupid.

“Alright… It’s settled.” He hears a rustling of papers, knowing she is taking down notes. He feels you stir slightly, but you just fixed your head on his chest, letting out a soft sigh as you kept sleeping. “And then?”

Eddie frowned in thought and looked down at your frame. A smirk spread on his face as he looked all over your body, his eyes resting over your waist, seeing your belly from the side.

“Get me a house. Somewhere residential, private, secure.” His voice was imperative, and he knew Chrissy was going to comply with no questions asked.

“Alright. How many rooms?” And his lips pressed on the top of your head as a smile spread on them, almost wickedly so.

“Let’s start… with four.”

End

a/n: time to get bred ig, hope u enjoyed, don't forget to leave a reblog, a comment on the reblog doesn't hurt either pretty pls

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #fanfiction #stranger things #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #omegaverse #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #mafia!eddie munson #smut #omega!reader

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edenspoem · 3 months ago

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𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝: 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. (𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞)

summary. | next chapter (tba). you're expecting—and ellie is sick in love. one thing inhibits her: she thinks it isn't requited.

reader discretion is advised. mdni. fluff. a punch of angst: one instance of abuse. mentions of previous. pregnant!reader. jackson!loser!ellie. damaged relationship with a man explicit (for the plot.) the pining creeps in. strangers to lovers (in the future). requited but assumed unrequited love. cheesy romance scenes. evident undertones of addiction: substance mention, cannabis, strained relationships (ellie and joel common occurence. reader and their scumbag bf too). a realistic motherhood. depression. apprehension. you get it. wc: 4.3k. series masterlist.

note.

based on this anon i got. shoutout to @serqphites fr. art in header creds to @nramv. thanks to @s-4pphics for proofreading this one for me! join the discord to see content such as this in creation.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

It is the thought that stomachs you.

“Shit,” you curse and bite the mouth that does. Mindless thing. “He’s gonna murder you, damn idiot.”

Control is contraception. You kneel your head to the faucet, its trickle the thing that embraces your ears; if you could crawl out of one, you would. Here is said to be simple. Here is an embellished free port. These people, neighbours and founders—elders, to be exacting for spiteful whims, sold the idea that you would have support and homes to crash in outside your own if it did ever crumble to the ground. Bandages to bleed in. But the shameful wound is open, unclosing. No one wants to account for a burden that isn’t their consequence.

You had a dream in the palm of your hand.

But what is wanted—is not for sale. You just assume control over disorder. It happens to a girl at least once, right? That dreadful blue in the sound once you learn for sure that you lost to it: to nature.

You wash the vacant spot.

Fucking pregnant.

It felt possible the first run to the toilet. Then, too terrible to be a lie the third roundabout. Vomit litters the porcelain basin.

Cat figured something was up before you caught this nauseous spell. She mentioned and argued that your constant trips to the bathroom were irregular, and you made light and nodded in a sunlit direction. Capering under its false pretense. “Yeah, what about it?” you segued, but not without heel-stumbling. Frou-frou foxes in Midsummer fires, your all-differentiating, all-time repeat from the Cocteau Twins; the radio thrummed with its rounding lulls and ethereals around a crowded living room, a whirling concoction for your hapless intoxication. Bird without its wings.

So is it the alcohol, or the condition—hurling you over the toilet bowl?

Either consequence creeps up from intestinal serpentining, as you pull apart your own single-headed carelessness. Who to blame, other than the carrier, right? Shit, well, a condom was used. You made with that precaution. So, are you the luckless one percent, or is the old-world hiding something important about fucking contraception? Can one girl be—ill-fated to this? You cocoon against the cupboards, slipping down the hinges, the knobs and indents. “Shit,” repeats your stunned mouth, quieter this time.

The walls seem to listen; a disagreeing wind quivers the window.

Even if you weren’t a statistic: the abandoned alcohol, now advantaged and emptied, returned to its fine-china neighbors in your father’s parlor, is evidence. Chastisement waiting to scream. He hates parties—and with much less than a tolerant grunt, hates girls who attend them. It seems sensible; Cat is a regular host, and he chastises your friendship.

Not her. You, being her friend.

Cat sighed, mashing the butt of her cig into a bisected can. The nutritions label was faded. “You’re a damn wreck,” within amusement, she scolded. But it was not without a heartstopper. She laughed, “If you end up pregnant, ‘m not watching the little shit. Get enougha’ that out of daycare to take it home with me as well. Damn it.” and it tore your stomach open; the organ pummeled into your serpentine guts, and the deafening throb frightened itself higher. You could taste what wanted to come up.

You swallowed. “Pregnant?” Concentrated on the purple under sienna-brown eyes. Distraction meant the world, in that moment.

She nodded—and shrugged, an unsure note. “Just a hypothetical.”

Fuck you, psychic.

The guilt was beginning to make itself felt. You relapsed, in a heartfelt confession, to a state of adolescence this evening. “You’re so goddamn selfish!” It is one thing to be treated as innocent; Mateo could be condescending at times, but to be spoken at like a cruel, bird-brained and intentioned child, and with innocence, crushed you. He argued that wanting to keep this pregnancy—after you gave him the boot—was not your moral to preach while consequences were afoot. “Do you really think you have it in you to be a mother?”

Fetal termination exists, still, in the apocalypse. At life-threatening costs. That was reason enough to let nature take its pathological course.

One tremble. “Yes.” You are a child again.

You can see it in his lineaments. He flinches his person in disgust, hundred somethings held under his tongue. “If you want to believe that.” The air is too pure for him. He rifles the cartridges on his wardrobe for a lighter, joint in the opposite hand. He takes a drag, hides his face with the pungent result, and espies the resentment shining your under-eyes with less care than before; these are just crocodile tears to him. “Sure,” he shrugs.

Then his attention drops a little lower than your chest, a brief change of heart. You feel the need to crawl inside your arms. More than ever.

He points with the smoldering dog-end. Silence snaps. “Not mine.” Flicking it to enunciate himself. The discarded state of him, and his disclaim, leaves a bitter taste in your mouth—if not the entire esophageal hole. Your lungs: filled with his exhaust. “Go find some other dude to blame. M’sure you had a couple who..” The joint finds its purpose again. “Might happen to look a little more identical,” he accuses.

You left before the air became his.

Time does not bring relief; the emptiness in your bed does anything but suffer silence. The growing hours are loud, and Jackson is still a paradise to some who are convinced it has its comforts.

You all have lied.

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡

“Of course he went and narced on her to her father!”

Jackson is outside the rest of America. Yes, it craters in national alpines, but it was a roadside seedling at the end of the last generation. Wood rotted to cordyceps in its neighbors; this place was given a second life. The standing tables here in the one and alone bar—the famous, aliased Bison—are so red, so wood-strong, so anointed with caring hands, you can catch a glimpse of yourself in it.

Cat treats it with the same purpose as if it were decades ago, and nothing ever happens here; she slams her lighter and pint glass down on it—pissed to express the least of the most. “Who else does shit like that?”

Despite the fact that Cat is virtually your sister from another mother, you went to Jesse about the argument first. He isn't a volatile pipe bomb with ears and earful intentions that create more harm, not good; she absolutely fucking is. One mention, and her fingertips are spitting fire. Cast iron doesn't even get near hot enough as the hands that share a piece of her trouble-starved mind.

But, she found out regardless. Not that you should ever stop her from; on some occasions, she has the right.

Jesse left your big news out of it, though. Not his right to tell.

“His corner of the town,” Jesse adds, his soft fingers around his glass, and up to his splitting mouth. He glances round the booth in search of all attention. Sure of it, he piled on. “Got a lotta assholes with the same notions in mind.” Chuting a sip of wine—a drink which lost its romantic significance to casual consumption, on par with beer—down his gullet.

Slow, agreeing nods pass around until another lip chips in. “Fucking dick.” Ellie, with the fullest glass, and untethered fingers tapping about the rim, has her head resting low on one fist, doubled over the curl-leaf surface.

Jesse scoffed. “Tell me about it.” Sardonic sort of response—to her short, but symptomatic one. He leans in his corner and trains the attention on her, a question in his squint. “Say, Ellie, you dealt with him on occasion, right? When he collaborated with Eugene. All that weed?”

She hates to hear it. “Just one time.” In her head—her head when it escapes out here into social wilderness—she was a good girl. Clean, rectified, an adolescent state of mind, and it has the whole world to do with Joel and learning to forgive. It is the least bit detectable on the outside, but she really is doing better than before. Rough-faced or not. “What about it?” She looks up, at last, the perfect shrug to her cross-question.

“Was she even there?”

Ellie crumpled up having to account for that one time; wrinkles in the brows, a snagged or yawning mouth, post-insomniac ripples and redness in her optic profile. Imagine an irate basset hound.“Reno?” She means your given alias: Reno, or Nevada, your origins. And she is Boston, or Massachusetts. “No, not at all.”

“See, he makes that shit up all the time,” Cat interludes. “First it was Justice, then it was me who he ratted out to Maria. Stopped trading with him after.”

Jesse has not traded once, or thought to smoke pot once, but he agrees. “Mhm.” A man of no judgement—when it comes to friends.

Sunset is climbing and pushing to stoop in the apertures of the table. The lithe, gold tadpole-ends creeping in, beating over faces, and so the restaurant had its lights switched on to make up for those recalcitrant pockets; soft, water-black mottles in the deeper corners. Ellie laced fists, cupping one around the other, and a particular string of light dug for this vulnerable formation. She has a heap to process in her own head; the sudden silence, deafening.

Shifting to his elbows, Jesse rests his well-slept eyes on her—a sore sight. “Gonna finish that?” He points, withheld fingers stretching for his own glass.

She clicks her tongue to her teeth. “Nah,” responding with whatever is left in her, a breath or a reaching-more. The glass grates as she hardly straightens her fingers to push it aside. “Tastes different.”

The claim draws out the doubt from their faces. “Tastes the same as before,” Jesse professes as he rolls the last droplets of his wine past his lips and along the columns of his throat, replacing his grip with the full glass of scotch, sunlight streaming through the liquid with blonde lines against nectar-gold. Her choice of spirits. “I best be joinin’ Seth in the kitchen. Have fun, ladies.” He crawls knee-first from the booth.

Cat shoots an astonished sneer, one he cannot see or sense in his bones as his legs were haste to vault the counter.

Ellie does, though. And she is too low-spirited to guess what for and laugh; a strange demeanor. “Hmm?”

“He'll be drunk on the job,” she clarifies. “But, I guess it's up to who cares. Not enough for me to keep watch.” And she, too, sidles out from the cornered booth, leather brushing against denim. Watching Jesse vanish behind the crowded bar made her suppose it's that time; the fading sun calls you home, and when it does, you go home. Nothing more to it in Jackson. “See ya, geek.”

She waves with an unprepared hand. “Yup. See you too..”

The jog home was not without its usual discomforts. Paths, loved still by a residual winter, were hard not to slip on. The unhesitating side-eyes were too common to dash out of their sight. Ellie is aware of what has them wringing their necks just to look at her, but as it continued, she just accepted it.

Her hoodie is half-sufficient. “Fuckin’ warm up already,” she curses, digging both fists into her pockets for warmth outside the steeple church. She notices three distinct paraphernalia in her pocket when her knuckles hit the seam: the larger, thicker one is obvious—Joel's watch. She inherited it on her own terms when he wasn't there. “Ow! Shit!” The cracked dial case nicks her for her mindlessness.

Second one is a mechanical lighter. Last time she wore this hoodie, she was squinting back the tears after telling Joel she didn't need his fucking help.

Ellie pinches the thinner, paper-textured item, and pulls it out with no clue to what it might be. This should be a simple guess.

Old feelings rush when she sees it in-between her fingers.

“Fuck.”

The word goes quiet in the night. Surrounding sycamores rustle, listening, and they respond with the eerie wind that rouses through their crown-shying bough. Invisible hands dislodge the strand from behind her ear.

Something shifts in her to listen in return.

She raises her chin. Gazes into pitch-blackness with a racing heart; her trees are there somewhere. Under the hole of light up there.

Ellie believed, from a very naive and insignificant age, that she was born and fell from the bough of a tree. The idea has some flesh and blood to it; her mother is unknown to her. She has the head of hair of the autumn sycamores, burning oranges, and delightful greens. Too green yet; left without the hour to decide what living meant and what her reason was to begin doing so—to live. She was given a gun before she was given a purpose. At least to her, matured and ripened, that is how it seems. Little bit careless considering her important condition; did Marlene think it through? Looking up into the same blanket of nothingness, she ponders whether reigniting this bad habit would still get her to the moon or not—if the world ever returned to pre-apocalypse.

From the hour you're born, you begin to die.

Simone de Beauvoir.

“Make it seven?” quoting herself, she slots the pointed end of the joint in-between her fresh-licked, rose-kissed lips and hopes she suffers no bite from it in the future. “Fuck it.” The watch becomes the last thing in her pocket. Flick, flick.

Her lungs fill with nostalgia.

“Ah..”

And puff.

She purses her mouth into an open ring, the somber, but lit against its will, night stolen from her sight in a cloud of white. It ebbs the stress in her she had not noticed was beginning to pulse again, searching for her heart with a pair of circling fingers. She palms her chest down. Maybe this is what the wind was telling her.

Ellie is nowhere near stoned, but swears she can feel it slowing. Easing her into something good, this time around. It feels good to have faith in something true.

Silence bends, not snaps. It fits in the gentle start of sobs, a dreadful blue sound, enough to interrupt her star-watching. She pierces around the grassplot for a source and sees the woman of the hour.

Guitar strums pick up in the wind.

She recognises who it is.

The sniffles reel her over. You see a pair of slow-strolling converse, scratching the ground upon steps, before you see the person. She stands an illuminated silhouette under stelliform, globe-string lanterns, the same ones from the winter dance a week ago that no one has thought to disassemble, several feet from your place on this bench.

Her heart has no reason to be thumping.

Strange, the smoke coming from her mouth, like a gun, is not unsettling—it should be. It parts when it clears. “Hey.” Her hesitant voice pricks your skin with goosebumps. Thinned-out, mint eyes at first glance harsh, but gentle at the second; the tired under-beds of purple is a prevalent stigma, but the shining pupil crawling over her iris struck this overwhelming sense of being understood. The soft structure of her face clasps them.

She looks at you like she has no clue what you are, but in the same glance has been raptured with an idea of what you could be. Creature to creature.

Watching, for a long time.

You wipe the cold under your nose onto your sleeve. Hesitant as she is. “Oh, have I taken your spot?” The first thing that comes to mind rolls from your tongue. You begin to collect yourself without an answer.

She stutters, her mouth ahead of her thoughts. “No, n-no! You're totally fine.” Hand freeing from her pocket to pause you.

She seems sweet.

Her curious eyes drop to where your arms are tangled—sheathed around yourself. You haven't moved them since.

Ellie cannot handle these lingering pre-spring conditions, even in her getup. The white avenues are gone but the winds have fought abating, the worst of the weather at night. In your case, a thin cardigan, she can only imagine.

She thumbs her hem. “Are you cold?”

You register that it might seem that way shooting a once-over glimpse of her collar—blue plaid poking through. To be honest, the cool air slipping under and around the hemlines hasn't occurred to you until she made a scene of it.

“Here,” she quietens, rustling in her layers. The slate-grey hoodie is folded outside-in and being offered before you can protest your independence. Nothing but misunderstandings have come between you and her. Charitable ones. “Keep it. I need to clean out my wardrobe, as others would say, anyway.”

It is a small, nothing-much distraction, but you wonder who others are to her. Good, or damaged too?

Someone once said: it's more trouble to refuse help where it is cost-free. You decide to trust that sentiment and crawl from your arms, reluctant to reply. “Too many hoodies?” Letting a glint of light peek through, you let something slip identical to a laugh. It sounds so unfamiliar.

Hers sounds perfect. “No, uh—sneakers, actually. Been told I have too many pairs.” She laughs again. You adjust the hoodie around your waist.

Your ears ride on the grace of that laugh. Replay, replay, and replay it in your head to the point your eyes are staring absent-minded and the colors on her person begin to remind you of a sycamore in autumn. Her deep-auburn burns with the lantern glow, the collected bundle of mane under the hind of her head an incurious shadow still. You wonder if it comes from her mother, or her father: the fire. “Yeah, been there.” Your answer has no substance to it either; you have nothing but a couple worn-out pairs. Your mouth is just saying things—the mindless thing.

Her mouth line shrinks from its last laugh. She now smiles small, with a feature she can't wipe off curling. “Yeah.” She catches your timid voice and echoes it, glancing down before she releases the joint in her fingers to the ground, squashing it under her sneaker. She twists it around, a mix of earth and ash scraping.

It blows a kiss of smoke.

Reminds you of those stump puffballs—mushrooms, bubbling in the depressions of dead or decaying wood, that puff green when puttered at by an early curiousness. One enveloped the tip of your shoe with it when you were little: stretching your underdeveloped leg that managed to reach once through a metal fence peeled at the sides, making squeamish cries when the thing of nature fumed. Memories do return full circle.

She leans an inch on her toes, still absorbed with the ground. The orange roots of her lashes catch that same fire.

Who is she?

For a small town, you should know; there are a few hundred faces in Jackson. But hers is not one you can remember. It seems misplaced. Her brown freckles are symptomatic of the sun. She lets quiet drapings of stress hang from her tear corners to her anti-brows, not so conventional for her age, but unafraid. Her stares are soft, and don't make you feel like a gullible child or a faithless woman.

She looks like she was born in the springtime, but made for October.

“Thanks, again.” You tire restless from that word. Said too often, heard too often. When will there be more?

You notice her half-arm tattoo right as it gets concealed, the strange comfort pulling her ruched, blue sleeves to her wrists. She pins the hems into her palms with her fingers. “It's nothin’,” she humbles. Her lips and nostrils are redder when she abandons her focus from the ground. No doubt she burns without trying in the summer. “Uh, I should be going—now.” She sidles in a direction and you feel urged to follow with your eyes. She uses her arm in a nervous toss to demonstrate where she is headed. “Do me a favor and get home safe, yeah?”

“Of course.” You watch with a farewell smile, a sweet shape creeping on your lips you can't stop. Maybe, you don't want to. Then, remembering one thing important to you, the so-called sweet mouth curses again. “Fuck, her name!”

You hope the two of you stumble into each other again, on some distant morning or near night. And learn her name, just not at your lowest.

Those guitar strings stop with no one around.

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Late night dislodges from the space ahead and is punctured with light. Slipping through the door, closing it behind, a home of damaged goods that should feel familiar and smell of floral nothings repulses you at the entrance. You catch it as soon as it hits—alcohol, marijuana.

Mateo.

Your throat burns from the scent.

His presence becomes known through a sharp shout. “Fuck took you so long?” It stabs through the house, the walls thin enough to not be considered in this, or his, material world.

His rage begins to beat, one foot after the other, on the hardwood floors, and your hand returns to where it felt it was needed. Hoodie fabric—that smells nothing like here, or him—is palmed in-between. Your heart pumps with fear and knowing; God is not restless to punish, but a darker, closer, corporeal counterpart is and he steals you from this life on earth, and he tells you that you have not suffered enough. The stranger in this hoodie is your tether.

But, after that fleeting conversation with the girl in the common acres, you feel you have known her for ages—and you're dating a stranger.

Swallow your pride and knowledge. He will smite you for it. “Um, Cat.” Quick, quick, the lump goes. But slow, slow, the lie creeps and is hesitant to be heard, afraid of its flaws. You turn to the kitchen before his ugly, three-headed emergence, running a hand over the budding holes of flowers. Jesse cut them from his garden, a secret congratulations from him and his mother. “She went to Bison and called me along. Time gotta-'head of us in there. Sorry, baby,” you stall, trembling.

The drunken stench gets worse. You cough but the air is all the same.

His footsteps take a pause at what you sense to be the fridge, a thimble distance. The kitchen, entrance, and couch are all subsided into one long room and aren't interrupted with inessential walls. Trailer gradient. It is not so glamorous as it is discreet; months into the relationship you noticed its perfect usage for taboo practice. The earth tries to return to itself as paint peels from the walls.

He converges with the eerie silence.

It is his discontinuation that turns you around. Otherwise, his hands fallow and large would be and in each press would be apologies you have heard in timeless befores. This time—out of all times—he just stares at you, head to toe, without one. Checking, like, to see if you're all there.

No. He is looking at you like you have done something wrong.

Scrunching up, you blurt. “What?” Quiet. Weak. But you regret your tone as it leaves your throat. The gestures blow your cover wide open.

He knows. “Somethin’ up?” And that is his cue to creep with inertia, his unwillingness to confront a potential problem, his face you cannot read. His alcohol kisses are disguises and his blows to your soul are the realest emotions he has stirred in you, post-beginning. Your nights begin with expectation.

He will either be enraged or lethargic.

But he stops crawling too close to the sun and reaches the rest with his hand, pinching the sleeve of the hoodie, rolling it together. His face shifts and unfortunately—you can read it.

Fuck.

He has his idea. “Where did you get this shit from?” You wish he drank himself to bed; his breath is hot, biting and in your senses and he does his part to fill each nerve. He has your arm, but he could very well have your heart, too. In his grasp. “No, better question—who did you get it from?”

Cold sweat. You answer on high alert.

“Cat!”

He chews it up. “No.” Shakes his head, pins the sun closer in on itself. The counter pinches your lower-spine. “She doesn’t do weed no fuckin’ more. This smells of it. Who does it belong to, huh! One of mine?”

Yelling is nothing compared to his gaping volume.

Your eardrums wobble. “No,” refuting, you open yourself to him. Open to his open-ended judgement. He out-reprimands—until it clicks. “Are you sure it isn't just you?”

He is just projecting.

Where did that come from?

Mateo fumes. His seams come apart. “Yeah, is it just me?” His rhetorical disturbs the somehow sound of nothing, but the hope that it would be yelling and nothing else—bangs against the cupboards. He holds your head in the side of it.

The impact disorients you from this kitchen.

You expect to meet a floor next.

As soon as the sharp pain leaves, it returns. He uses the lightheaded silence he created as a second reason to wrangle you a sweep over, aiming your head—or the whole, his anger is extensive—into the fridge. “Stupid bitch!” The door handle gets you in the stomach before he can.

It escapes your throat with a bubble of nothing to come out.

“Hope that solves your morning issue.” And it stops there. On the cold, slate tile. You have been here before.

Made swollen sounds.

You clutch for the floor. The floor that exists in your mind; too flat for any percievable grasp, your fingers find themselves in your palms, indenting. You press and tighten, searching for pain, but her sweatshirt is long and loved enough to protect those parts of your hands.

You regret having a mouth.

Small room, big conniption. You feel a little too seen retrieving your tears through these wordless-oath, congested inhales. Being in here is suffocating. Outside was bigger; omnipresent, not so wall-to-wall, not so focused on your problems.

But you catch her scent. Not the thing he smelled. Her scent.

Unnostalgic.

Wearing a little bit of some-stranger-else does have a coalescing effect. Some chemical change. Rewiring.

Does she?

fic taglist: @sabrinathewitchh982 @baptismbaby @acidblum @naomqq @mariesmagix @azteriarizz @violetszn @morticeras @angitial @futac00chi3 @raid-ar @monki-nat

perm taglist: @whore4abby @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @maleelee @seraphicsentences @ravyaryn @sunnsh1ne

comment to be on either!

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aajjks · 1 year ago

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eyes on me (m)

synopsis. look at him, only him, especially when he’s fucking you dumb.

warnings. êxplïcït sěx, döm!töjï, fèm!réàdèr, däddy kïnk, MÄTŪRE THÊMÊS, cússïng, prâïsê kïnk, röügh s-x, möänïng, gröǎnïng, ünprötêctêd s-x, bïtïng, yändêrê töjï, [wräp ït bêförě yöu täp ït], b-lly bǔlgè.

header art by @jj59u on twt. It’s not mine.

note. happy new year 🫶🏻💌✨ please re-blog as much as you can and please share feedback ENJOY!

Oh you look so erotic like this.

You’re both so sweaty, you’re crying, he’s smirking, going so fast, hammering into your heat, Toji can’t stop looking at you at all.

You’re so shy despite literally drooling in his cock but you’re just so adorable- hiding your face away in his neck, whimpering like a kitten in the cold while he’s buried deep inside you.

Your nails are digging so deep into his naked back, your breathy moans are like music to him, and he’s already about to cum as he feels your walls clench tighter around him.

“Gonna cum, my pretty slut?” He asks you so tenderly, pressing butterfly kisses into your messed up hair, Toji hisses a little when you dig your nails deeper but the pain only makes his dick harder.

So he doesn’t waste a second to pick up his already fast pace, he knows you’re about to cum because you always get so quite, too lost in the pleasure to respond or comprehend anything around you.

He is fucking you dumb on his cock.

And he’s doing exactly that right now too. “Come on pretty baby speak up.” Toji whispers in a sultry voice in your ear and he doesn’t miss the way goosebumps appear on your skin, and the sight makes him smile.

Because your shoulder and neck are filled with his bite marks, “yn..” he calls out your name once again, panting alot, he’s made sure to make you cum at least two times.

Because you are his princess, you may be a little bratty but he loves you so much, Tojis hips are grinding into the air and he’s got you safe in his arms, your cunt is so hot around him, he feels like he’ll burst, just then you finally lift your head up and that makes him so happy because he can see your pretty eyes.

Toji is kissing you up from the valley of your breasts, his lips all over them, you’re so soft and so pretty.

“w-wanna cum, daddy.” You whimper, and he coos, pulling you for a rough sloppy kiss, his teeth nibble on the meat of your lower lip.

He’s about to cum too.

“S-So fuckin pretty.” He groans, It’s his turn to bury his face into your shoulder, he’s enjoying the lewd sounds that’s echoing through out your large bedroom, he’s missed you so much.

His biceps flex as he’s fucking you like his life depends on it, maybe because he wants you to get so addicted to him.

“O-Oh daddy… feels so good- ah.” Youre hugging him tightly. Toji feels so calm when his body is into yours, it’s so intimate yet calming.

“You fuck me ‘so good.” Your praise actually has his head spinning so now he’s literally bullying his dick into your pussy, crying out curses and what not.

He loves you so much.

He knows he’s got a very filthy mouth but he knows you love it so much, because it’s not long before you’re literally creaming in his cock, crying with literal tears, moaning in pleasure.

Your shy self is long gone and you’re a loud moaning mess.

You sound like a slut- his favorite slut.

“Noooo baby come on- look into daddy’s eyes.” He is forcing your head up again before you can hide again and his large fingers hold your face up so you’re looking straight into his eyes.

Your eyes are the best thing about you.

He smirks when he spots your belly bulge, you take him so well every time.

Your body is made for him.

“Eyes on me so daddy c-can cum, baby.”

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gumified · 1 year ago

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SHAWTY SO KAWAII !

pairing: nanami x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, suguru x reader, choso x reader (all separate)

summary: what they love about you, so much so it's an obsession.

content: 3.4k, smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, oral (fem. + male. receiving), overstimulation, public sex (nanami), tit worship, impact play, dacryphilia, dumbification

note: please enjoy this as i work on the next fic for you guys c: MWAH big forehead kiss for all of you who've been supporting!!! header is from manga called i can't escape from okami-kun's obsessive love!

KENTO NANAMI - YOUR VOICE

“louder for me darling.” nanami groans into your ear and you moan in response, voice oozing with pleasure. he buries his head into the crook of your neck and you gasp when you feel his hot breath against your skin. “let me hear those pretty noises.”

if there’s one thing that your boyfriend loves it was you, more specifically, your voice in bed. it’s so addicting and every whimper, moan, gasp has him trying to hold back from fucking you stupid. you’re intoxicating and it drives him mad when you moan his name, pleading for him to let you cum. even in the most public places he’ll always urge you to make as much noise as you could, scream his name over and over again.

like right now.

“k-kento-” your words are cut short when you feel his cock thrust into you again. your back’s against the wall and your legs are wrapped around nanami’s waist as you cling onto him, trying your best not to slip out of his grip. “someone’s gonna s-see ahh!”

you try to stifle the mewls that escape your lips but it proves no use as you feel your pussy constrict around his length. his hands grip your waist and he’s strong enough to hold you in place as he rams into your sopping cunt. each thrust it loud and wet and you feel tears fall from your eyes. it feels too good and all you can do is moan louder and louder.

“you’re so gorgeous.” nanami murmurs against your lips and he kisses you once. his tongue tangles with yours and you let your eyes flutter shut, savouring the way your boyfriend worships your body. “need to always fill this needy pussy with my cock.”

“hnngh ken - ‘s too good, feels s’good, need more pleaseee.” your incoherent babbling only pushes him to fuck you harder, snapping his hips to yours as he ploughs into your pussy. your arms are wrapped around his neck, trying to hold yourself up as you feel him plunge into you repeatedly. “nnghh, hah, f-fuckkk.”

nanami’s obsessed. his only goal is to hear those pretty noises spill from your lips as you cry for him. he loves the way you say his name, the way you plead for your release. he loves all of you and he wants to keep the erotic moans you make all to himself. his hands reach up to palm your tits, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. you yelp in surprise before it melts into a pleasured whine as you feel him play with your breasts.

nanami knows your body like the back of his hand and he knows every spot that will make you whimper and cry his name like a prayer. he loves to hear you as you fall apart on his cock, chanting his name as you let everyone know just who exactly is making you moan like a bitch in heat. you know there’s no escaping his obsession and when he hits that spot in your pussy it has you sobbing out his name over and over again.

“kento kento kento hnngh o-oh my god!”

“that’s it pretty girl, keep saying my name.” he moans into your ear and it only makes those lustful sparks shoot all through your body. his voice is deep and you want to hear him praise you even more, you want to bask in his honeyed words as you release all over his cock. “make sure that everyone knows who’s making you feel this good.”

his cock bulges in your pussy and you feel your walls tighten around his huge length. nanami’s hand grabs your chin and his grip is almost bruising. his lips crash onto yours and he swallows every single one of your pretty moans. you feel his cock throb and you grind your hips against his. the two of you kiss feverishly, lips mashing together with no exact rhythm but it’s still as passionate as ever. he’s so obsessed but he really can’t help it.

TOJI FUSHIGURO - YOUR MOUTH

it’s hard to breathe when toji’s cock is thrusting in and out of your throat. he’s stood towering over you as you kneel before him, cock in your mouth as you try your best to suck him off. key word try. toji had given up letting you seduce him with tiny kitten licks and the slow teasing. instead he had taken matters into his own hands and plunged his fat cock into your mouth so that you choked on all of him.

“such a fuckin’ brat hm?” he growls as he fists your hair, pulling your head back so you look at him with those pleading eyes. “think y’er funny pulling all that teasing crap? keep that mouth open nice and big f’me yeah?”

all you can do is moan in response and even then your voice is choked and strangled by the sheer amount of inches that’s down your throat. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands hold onto his thighs. his cock is buried right into your mouth and toji’s unrelenting in his thrusts. he doesn’t slow down and he opts for a harsher pace as he wrecks your tiny mouth. your jaw aches but it’s no use complaining, not when he’s gripping onto your hair and forcing his cock down your throat.

“c’mon baby, i know you can do so much better than that. show me just how much you love this cock.” toji’s words are mocking because he knows you’re too fucked out to even think coherently but he loves it. he loves to see that beautiful drowsy expression you wear as you try your hardest to please him. your mind is foggy and filled with lust as you slobber all over his dick. there’s a wicked grin that spreads across his face as he watches your saliva dribble down your chin as you struggle to breathe.

“tell me how much you love my cock.” toji presses your head further down and you choke on his length. “such a filthy thing, c’mon let me know how much you love this.”

all you’re able to do is let out a mixture of muffled moans and undecipherable words that only widens the sickening smile on his face. tears are streaming down your cheeks and you feel the back of your throat burn from the repeated taunting he puts you through. you're so full and you feel as though your jaw would break at any second now.

“now now, ‘s not polite to speak with y’er mouth full baby.” toji leans down to take your face into his grip and you gaze up to him, eyes cloudy. “tch, gonna have to teach you some manners.”

it’s as if you’ve got no control over your own body. toji’s managed to transform you into his personal toy, using your holes whenever he wants to. all you’re doing is kneeling for him as you open your mouth wide enough so he can bully his fat cock in and out. you moan as you feel him throb inside of you. you want nothing more than for him to spray his sticky cum down your throat. it’s a messy sight but oh it’s so lewd. toji loves it so much. he loves seeing you like this. he watches as you whine around his cock, tongue swirling around his length as you try desperately to please him and he can only smirk at your cuteness. you’re all his and his alone.

he’s thrusting into your mouth once again, jamming his cock down your throat and it isn’t long until he's groaning from above you, pressing your head all the way down to the base of his cock as he releases inside your mouth. his cum spreads across your tongue and you feel the taste seep into your senses. it’s silly to say but you’re addicted to the way toji tastes and you’re greedily lapping up everything he gives you, swallowing his thick load as he pumps you full of it.

toji smirks at your dazed expression when he finally pulls out of your mouth, cum and saliva dripping from your lips. he’d never get tired of that look.

SATORU GOJO - YOUR TITS

satoru gojo loves nothing more than to bury himself headfirst into your tits. he loves to play with your sensitive nipples, twiddling them between his fingers as he watches you mewl out in pleasure. he loves the cute way your expression twists into one of surprise every time he latches onto them, sucking them repeatedly, flicking his tongue as he kneads the other with his free hand. you’re so beautiful and satoru loves nothing more than to worship your body like a shrine.

“pretty.” he sighs against your chest as his body hovers over yours. you smile softly up at your boyfriend who’s eyes are fixed onto your breasts. you giggle at the way he seems so enraptured at your naked body. it would’ve been cute if not for the tinge of lust you see in his eyes. “this is all mine isn’t it?”

you nod your head. “all yours ‘toru, only ever will be yours.”

your answer lights something in him and you see the giddy smile that spreads across his face and he buries his head into your chest. you feel his breath on your skin and before you know it his mouth is spreading hot kisses across the expanse of your body. he kisses every bit of you tenderly and softly, making sure to pay special attention to the tips of your tits. you can’t hold back the moan that spills from your lips as you feel him cup your flesh, squeezing it gently.

“ffuckk baby ‘m sensitive.” you whimper as you feel him tug at your nipple. satoru hums and you know he’s too caught up in what he’s doing to even register what you’re saying to him. he’s obsessed with you and it only fills you up with joy. “baby, ‘toru, we just showered- nghh!”

satoru doesn’t seem to care as his hands trail down your body to cup your dripping pussy and you watch as he grins. his fingers slide into your wet cunt and you moan, gripping his shoulders for support. his mouth never once leaves your tits as he continues to worship you. you feel his tongue on you as he sucks on your skin, leaving blooming red marks in his wake. your legs are wide open for him as he thrusts his fingers into your pussy. you pant at the overstimulating feeling.

“you’re so pretty baby.” satoru murmurs as he continues to pleasure you, tongue licking a long stirp up to your neck. you shiver as the cold air hits your body. his praises fill your ears and you simper at his sweetness. “this pretty little body was just made f’me.”

the words he whispers are cute yet his actions are anything but. his fingers are rough and unsteady as they curl inside you. he’s adding another finger into your cunt and you feel the stretch as he plunges his digits into you. it’s nothing new yet every single time he does it it has you keening over with pleasure. satoru’s long fingers reach parts of your body that you never could and when he curls his fingers repeatedly you jolt at the sudden movement, moaning loudly at how good it feels. his teeth grazes your nipple and you whimper when he lightly nibbles.

“wanna keep you with me forever, wanna have you with me no matter what.” he moans as he grabs a fistful of your chest, squeezing it hard so it causes you to yelp. he melts into your hold and you let your fingers thread through his white locks, admiring as he pays special attention to the things he loves the most.

“i’m gonna be yours forever baby-” you moan as he releases your nipple with a pop before focusing on the other one. “i’m only gonna be, hah, yours satoru.”

it’s euphoric and satoru smiles as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. he loves you so much, so so much. but more importantly, he loves your tits so much and he wants nothing more than to live between both of them forever.

SUGURU GETO - YOUR ASS

“look at that ass.” suguru snarls as he pounds into you. you’re on all fours, gasping for air as you feel his cock bully into your poor pussy. “you think you can go around showing everybody that? this is mine silly girl, all mine got that?”

“y-yes suguru, yes yes yes, nghh, i-i understand.” it’s stupid just how pathetic you sound as you’re being fucked open. suguru leans forward and you feel him grab your hair, tugging you up so his chest is pressed to your back. you feel the hard muscle and you whimper.

“who said you’re allowed to give everyone a look at what’s mine hm? this is my property and no one’s allowed to see it.” he delivers a harsh smack to your ass and you shriek at the contact. suguru smirks at your reaction and another slap is delivered. you feel the tears prick your eyes and it only fuels him further. “awww you crying? pathetic whore, shouldn’t have been such a slut then.”

you continue to cry as you feel him deliver harsh spanks across your flesh. the pain spreads across your body and before you have time to comprehend what’s happening another is given and another and another. suguru’s mean and he’s unforgiving and it’s clear by the way he’s wrecking your ass that he’s angry. you know you won’t be able to sit down comfortably tomorrow and that he’s currently marking your ass with his large handprints. suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside you and you squeeze him tightly at the lack of movement. wrong move.

“i felt that idiot.” his voice is threatening and you whimper at the darkness that’s laced in his voice. “so fuckin’ impatient, can’t even wait for a bit can you? just needa be fucked? god i knew you were just a cock-hungry slut.”

“i-i’m sorry suguru, ‘m so sorry, please please please, ‘m sorry so hnngh s-sorry pleasee-” you hiccup through sobs as you feel him thrust into you again. this time it’s much more rough as he fucks your spasming pussy. you cry as you feel yourself getting stretched beyond belief. “suguru p-please, ‘m sorry didn’t mean it, i-i swear i didn’t mean i-it.”

“you think some sad excuse of an apology is gonna make me forgive you princess?” surugu laughs and you feel your heart drop. surely he doesn’t. he grips onto your hips as he fucks you relentlessly, watching as you get split apart on his huge cock. he leans forward to whisper the words you know are gonna keep you up all night. “you’re gonna have to try much harder than that.”

the sensation is all too much and you feel your pussy convulse around him. a pretty white ring is around his cock and he lewd noises that fill the bedroom make you spin into a frenzied daze. you think it’s been hours since he first started to start teasing you and you can’t take it anymore. you’re so so close but you know that you can’t cum. you know that if you did suguru wouldn’t ever let you go and he would keep you speared on his cock until he’s satisfied, until you’re not even conscious. you know that but you still can’t help it as he stimulates all the places that feel so good. before you know it it’s too late and you’re squeezing around him as you feel your body collapse and you fall onto the sheets, exhausted. you’re so caught up in your orgasm that you don’t even notice suguru behind you, completely still.

“what the fuck did you just do?”

fear shoots through your body and you feel him grab you off the bed. he twists you to face him and you whimper at the dark look in his eyes. he’s glaring at you, anger flaring all throughout his face and you know it’s not meant to be but god he’s so hot. one of his hands is on your ass and you feel a moan bubble to your lips as he squeezes it hard. suguru’s eyes narrow and he throws you back down onto the bed.

“you better get to work otherwise i’m never stopping.”

CHOSO KAMO - YOUR PUSSY

no one loves eating pussy more than choso kamo. he’s pressing hot wet kisses on your thighs as he makes his way to your cunt. they’re soft yet full of lust as he moans every so often. you throw your head back as you feel him finally reach the point you’ve been waiting for. your fingers are gripping onto his long black locks as you moan for more. he’s downright insatiable and choso’s too lost in providing you with the most mind-numbing orgasm that he can’t think of anything else.

his tongue laps at your sopping pussy. he sucks on your clit and he watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and as you press your hips closer to his face. he smirks at your reaction, sucking harder. both of his hands are holding your legs apart, wide enough for him to completely devour you. choso plunges his tongue into your adorable little pussyhole and you scream his name. he hasn’t even been down there for long but he already has you screaming his name repeatedly.

“choso o-oh my god choso choso choso!” you gasp as he stimulates every little bit of your pussy. he’s meticulous and he just loves to drink up every drop of your arousal. “p-please don’t stop nghhh-”

you’re writhing in his grip, hips bucking up pathetically as you whimper. choso presses you down, hand on your stomach. the both of you lock eyes and you see the foggy look he has on. “you gotta keep still, can’t make you feel good if you keep moving around. can you do that for me?”

you can’t resist him if he looks at you with such adorable eyes and you mumble out a strangled okay. you almost break your agreement once he dives back down to your pussy. he’s addicted to the way you taste and he greedily eats you out, not caring for being messy. you squeal everytime he lightly nips at your clit and you can feel choso grinning at your cute reaction. it’s embarrassing how exposed you are for him but you can’t even close your legs as he keeps you spread wide open for him.

“i love this pussy s’much.” he groans as he sucks harshly. his breath is cold against the heat you’re exuding and you moan at the contrast. your body feels as though it’s on fire and every lick that choso provides you with has you burning brighter. “could live off this pretty thing, don’t need anything else. love eating your pussy out s’much baby, wanna eat you out all the time.”

his words are dirty and you know they hold the truth. if choso could he would most definitely live off just eating your pussy. he loves it so much and he would be happy if he died in between your legs. you tug at his hair as you feel yourself come close to your orgasm. choso continues his rough movements, increasing his pace so it has you unable to keep still any longer. he doesn’t mind though, he holds you close, determined to keep pleasuring you until you’re a writhing mess beneath him.

“choso ‘m g-gonna cum!” you feel your legs shake and your whole body seize up. “c-choso ‘m so close, a-ahhh, ‘m gonna cum choso, feels s’good!”

choso sucks harder and his tongue swirls around your clit and you gasp when you feel him stick two fingers into your pussy. he continues to suck as he plunges his fingers in and out, drawing your orgasm out as he watches as your body spasms as you gush around his digits. choso groans at the mess you make and he’s immediately lapping it all up, drinking everything up greedily.

“that was so hot.” he looks up at you and you see the way his lips glisten and his chin is covered with your slick. choso’s so dazed and you watch the way his eyes are staring into yours with clouded lust. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before going back down to your cunt and you don’t even have time to stop him. “give me another, please, need you so bad baby you don’t even know.”

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sweetimpurity · 3 months ago

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a/n: dis is dirty (◠﹏◠✿) also new header! and theme! I’ll see if I hate it or not but let me know what you think!

cw: yandere toxic controlling, breathplay afab!reader

Thinking about Miguel, your husband who’s also a mob boss. He’s rough and demanding and at the beginning of your marriage it scared you. Made you hate him most of the time. But now it’s… different. Now you sort of crave it.

He doesn’t like for you to leave the estate very often, and not without one of his men by your side. But his offices are across the city. When you whine softly about not getting out very often, wanting to go out into the city, he drills it into your head that the outside world is dangerous and the only safe place is in the house where no one can get in and you can’t get out.

He tells you this as he’s pounding you into the sofa, your head hanging off the armrest, moaning his name like a song and your legs sprawled out so wide it’s almost painful. “You can’t leave because I need you here bunny… hah… can’t let you go can’t- can’t- oh fuck-“ He hitches, his face dipping into your hair, thumb rubbing circles in your pulse point, fingers wrapping around your throat and applying just the slightest of delicious pressure pushing you over the edge. Perfectly polished fingernails digging down his triceps, a gush of your essence down his cock and a gasping cry when you climax for the 4th time. And he comes with a low growl, his angular nose nudging into your cheek and squeezing your jugular as he buries inside; making sure to stick his load deep in you and trying to make you forget ever bringing it up in the first place.

And it’s like an addiction. Some nights you’re just giddy, watching the window for him to get home. Your clit ticklish thinking about him. Maybe your mind’s in the blender but who cares…

His car pulls up and he comes out. A scowl on his face and brow furrowed, walking by the security at the door and into the house. Ignoring the staff that welcomes him home and going straight to the bedroom. A rare sight, a smile coming to his lips when he sees you already there. Sitting on the bed like the good girl you are.

“Hey bunnygirl…” A wolfish grin accompanies his deep rough voice. Watching you with greedy eyes as he slowly removes his suit jacked, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Hi…” You hum, butterflies fluttering when he looks at you like that. Like he just wants to snap you in half, fuck you like a slut and pump you full of his cum.

“You look so pretty in that…” He says. Pulling his shirt off, his bare torso and chest on display. Scars and tattoos spanning across his deep skin, his chest, up and over his shoulders, down his arms. His dark eyes flick down over the light pink lingerie you’re wearing. A set he bought you. He buys you a lot of lingerie. More than anything else. He prefers you to wear that around the house. And the staff keeps their eyes to the floor.

He prowls over to you, to the edge of the bed and nudges your legs to open. Standing between them. His hands slipping into his pants pockets. Bending down to be at eye level, his gaze piercing and terrifying. A stare that could kill, and hands that have killed many times before.

Without a word, his nose brushes against yours, encouraging you to tilt your head for him. Your lashes flutter, eyes closing. This is what you’ve been waiting for all day isn’t it? His eyes stay open, smiling devilishly when he sees that expression. “Open your mouth, bunny…”

His voice is a deep rumble. Your lips hesitantly parting for him, debating opening your eyes but before you can he’s licking a stripe up your open lips. Coming in for the kill after a moment, after the rush sends full course.

Capturing your lips with his and pushing you down on the blankets. You don’t get a wink of sleep that night.

“Ohh bunny… baby!” He groans, a fistful of your hair and his hips slapping into your ass. Prone bone with your face in the pillows. His throbbing tip abusing your drooling heat with every push into your honey velvet.

It takes everything in you not to scream, gasping against the pillowcase and gripping on for dear life. “Ah… ngh! M-“ His pace is relentless. Pounding and pounding, the headboard knocking against the wall. Probably making a dent.

———

One day he calls you into his office. An especially stressful day and everyone is just pissing him the fuck off. He needs you. He can’t wait until later and he can’t go home now. There’s too much shit he has to deal with. His dark eyes are trained on the pictures of you on his desk as he waits for his driver to retrieve you.

And when you’re finally here, game over. He’s up and out from his desk, enveloping you in his arms as he kicks the door shut hard. “There’s my girl…” He whispers.

“Did you go shopping like I said?” He asks, turning you around and walking you back towards the desk, kissing your cheeks and unable to keep his hands off you. He’s already hard, been waiting for you all this time. “Mhm I got some new shoes… and-“ he silences you with a kiss. His tongue dipping into your mouth, swirling with yours and tasting you.

“Mm new shoes that’s good bunny…” he hums after pecking your lips a few times. Trying so hard to act like he cares but he’s already undressing you in his mind. “I hope you spent more than a thousand dollars this time…” he says. Now that he actually cares about. He tenderly pushes some whisps behind your ear. You nod softly, innocently.

“How much?” He grins.

“… I spent… ten thousand dollars…”

“In three hours?” He smiles, laughter threatening to bubble up in his chest. “Good girl…”

His words melt your mind in the exact way he intends them to. His desk a mess of work and your slick dripping down the expensive wood. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. Knocking into your sweet pussy and getting his relief. Lacing his fingers with yours and pulling them to his chest, his strokes are rough and unforgiving.

“Come for me baby… give it to me ohhh I wanna feel it…” he groans, leaning over you kissing up your chest, the valley between your breasts. Just feeding your ravenous cunt his inches, rolling his hips into you, watching your face contort.

brrrrrrrr brrrrrr

The phone rings on his desk. Tearing his eyes away from his favorite sight and pounding his fingers against the buttons to make it stop. But it rings against just after. Is it his fucking assistant trying to reach him? Can’t everyone tell he’s busy?

“Everybody fuck off!!” He shouts towards his office door, ripping the phone cord out of the wall, whipping it in the same direction. Smashing it to pieces, making you flinch, making you clench and squeeze around his thick dick inside you.

“Miguel!” You gasp, reaching for him, his chest, trying to reach your end, needing him, his attention. “I know I know-” he coos, reaching a hand to your face and gripping your jaw gently, teasing a finger along your lips and dipping it in. Letting you suck on his fingertips. “There you go… that’s a good girl…”

“You’re my girl, yeah? Yeah baby?”

“Mmm…”

“I know you need me… I know this pussy needs me huh bunny?” His fingers slip out of your mouth, grasping around your throat gently. For such a strong and violent man, he’s very aware of how much pressure is too much. “Need it so bad…”

“Come on…” he whispers. Lifting you into his arms, across the office and against the wall by the door. Pressing your back against it and pinning your hands over your head. His cock reaching even deeper like this. Alllll the way in.

“Ah-ngh! Mig!” You gasp, your squeaky voice exactly what he wants to hear. The sound of it surely penetrating these walls.

Sheathing inside you and the sound of him prodding through your slick sounds through the room. A satisfied grin on his face, watching the exact moment the band snaps and you rise into climax.

“Oh Miguel! Ah! Hahnghh!” You just burst, head throwing back and crying out for him. Your voice hoarse on screams. And he’s sure everyone on this floor will finally get the message. He’s busy fucking his wife.

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shegetsburned · 1 year ago

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❝ the prince’s jewel ❞ w. ryomen sukuna 𝜗𝜚.

BRIDGERTON AU⌇

• — dear gentle reader. this author feels not all is fit to print when so much is already known by far too many members of the ton when it comes to the mighty prince sukuna. though delighted by the frenzy of competition, this author believes that the prince will not participate in any courting exchange, despite his great desire to sire an heir or perhaps his desire to be known as the ton’s number one rake.

.nsfw.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who’s known throughout the whole kingdom to be a ruthless but laid-back ruler, having little to no interest in his subjects. barely governing as it is, he prefers to enjoy the wealth that his title has given him without an ounce of empathy for his poor subordinates. boredom has brought him to london where he believes to find at least some sort of entertainment to pass his time.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has no shame showing himself at the entrances of brothels and shady bars with ladies wrapped around his arms. never denying any of his endeavours and laughing in the face of scandals. when his name makes the header of the society’s paper, his grin grows the more larger.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who believes that, if he is to be married, his highness deserves none other than the diamond of the season, chosen by the queen for her beauty, elegance, purity and grace; you.

he has absolutely everything to envy; perfect musculature, charm, alluring beauty, enormous wealth and bewitching gaze which, without a doubt, attracts most ladies on display. he has many choices and doesn’t want to settle for any pathetic young girl that would throw herself at his feet. the diamond has to be his.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, as soon as he laid eyes on you, never hid his desire to rip your pretty dress apart with his perverted gaze. as you gracefully walked before the queen, his eyes travelled from your lips, trailing down to your appetizing curves moulded by your tight corset. the gown you wore had every man in the room breaking their neck to catch a glimpse of the diamond.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has learned about the custom of a man calling upon a lady and visiting her at her home, which he is way too indifferent to do. instead, sukuna sends you tons of enormous bouquets. gorgeous flowers that mostly scare off callers from their beauty and expansiveness. he might refuse to visit, but his gifts are enough for you to consider his proposal rather quickly.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who couldn’t care less about etiquettes or manners. you danced with another man? he’d immediately interrupt the two of you, groping your gown and pulling you closer with a nasty smirk. another suitor’s writing his name on your dance card? prince sukuna stares him down, tearing the piece of paper and pulling the string around your wrist to whisper in your ears insanities none would dare hear in a ballroom.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna whose favourite past time is to lead you in the pleasure garden, making sure every suitor, every mama and every lady of the ton has seen you walk beside the prince to the dark walk. he’s always determined to take it a step further. wether it’s with a curious hand on your ass, with his teeth around your earlobe or with his lips tasting your neck, his addiction is the more clearer.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has shown everyone that none other than him should court you and you let him. you let him have a hold on you and on your chances of ever securing a proposal with another suitor. most indeed believe prince sukuna has already stolen your honor even though, despite his most inappropriate gestures, hasn’t declared you his just yet. torturing you with sneaky glances and provocating promises became rather quickly the talk of the ton which suited him entirely.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after several weeks, finally called on you. you’re more than surprised when he bribes your chaperone to let you two talk in private. without lying to himself or to you, he explains the reasons for his visit. truth is, the prince’s tired of waiting and he wants to consume your innocence while he still can.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has you riding his entire length in your bed chamber. innocent puffy lips whining and moaning out his name. tits bouncing frenetically while his claws spreads your ass, leaving an odious mark. an inexperienced debutante like you, euphorically drunk on his dick, had the prince sukuna going for hours. hickies and teeth marks covered your chaste figure, officially claiming you as his. his hands explored every inch of your skin, planting his nails into the fat of your ass every time you bounced on him to lead you further down so you felt him deeper.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after an intense session of fucking and taking your innocence away, doesn’t bother helping you clean up, enjoying the sight of your messed up hair and teared-up dress. he leaves you exhausted in your wet sheets, with the promise of stealing you away to his kingdom the next time you would see him. the only thing he left behind is a lecherous diamond eager for her prince to come back and take much more than just her innocence.

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ryomenslvr · 11 days ago

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rockstar!ryomen sukuna x reader x rockstar!satoru gojo

synopsis: Two rival bands. One sound engineer. Trapped between Gojo’s charm and Sukuna’s intensity, you navigate a world where music is war, tension runs high, and falling for the frontman, or both, could change everything.

a/n: this will be a multi-chapter fan fiction which is heavily inspired by @/indiewritesxoxo ‘s no. 1 party anthem series! (which you should 100% check out! it’s such an incredible concept and it’s very addicting. you can find it here) I’m still starting out as a writer so I can’t promise my series will be any good, but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

if you would would like to be added to the tag list please let me know! :)

soundcheck

static

detuned

interlude

ch. 5 coming soon!

dividers by @/redroud1 <3

header art by @su2kuna on twitter <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo jjk #satoru gojo jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru jjk #Gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna jjk #ryomen sukuna jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #feedback 🎤

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northopalshore · 6 months ago

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‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧ Indicators of a less than well-off spouse &

the significance of the 8th house

This means they may have struggled with money, finances, and assets in their life. It can range from poverty stricken, an unhealthy relationship with money (i.e spending habits or addictions) to middle class or average life.

This post applies to the Juno, Briede, Groom persona charts & through derivative astrology. However, in the Groom or Briede persona chart, it manifests after the wedding.

☆ Saturn, Chiron, Mars, Lilith or Neptune in the 2nd house in the Briede 19029 (if you are interested in women), Groom 5129 (if you are into men) , and Juno 3 persona chart : means that your spouse will come from a lesser financial background than you. Money may have always been somewhat of an issue in their lives, so they spend much focus on obtaining it.

☆ If it's Chiron or Lilith in the Juno persona chart here specifically, they may be rather ashamed of it, or don't want to be a burden to you when it comes to money. This is most prominent when first getting to know each other. They may feel rather left out or seem like an outsider to your financial lifestyle.

☆ In the natal chart:

This is where we'll focus on the 8th house as it symbolizes the spouse's financial gain, shared resources and also their spending habits. That being said, it's also important to see the sign & degrees that they are in as well as aspects that it makes for more context. Please understand that these may manifest in their childhood or upbringing and their future may change. (See Beyonce's example on the bottom of this post. )

Note: If there are no planets in the 8th house, look at the 8th house ruler.

Stellium in the 8th house: It means that money is very important to your future spouse. They may attach a lot of meaning into their possessions. Money, as well as the things that they own have been a very integral part of their lives depending on what planet is there.

If Sun is here: than they may base their identity with what they have or what they wear. They could very much be someone who deeply values their aesthetics.

If Moon is here: they will have a strong emotional attachment to their money & belongings. They may have their natal moon in the 2nd house for example. They may like to keep collections of things, like figurines, trinkets, clothing from a specific brand or something.

If Venus is here: Their love language centers around luxurious attraction, they may enjoy spending money on beauty products A LOT. These are the type that will splurge for the sake of their looks or to raise their vibrations. All that glitters is gold to them. They also may earn a lot of money, or have always had what they want (or need) handed to them.

If Mars is here: They likely spend a lot of money, or have a habit of splurging or have zero impulse control when purchasing something. It may also mean that they are always looking for ways to earn money, and may have struggled to gain money i.e have multiple jobs, do a lot of hard work, physical labor.

Ex: See my post about Lana Del Rey's 8th house & her husband's career as an example in this post.

If Mercury is here: Their work may involve talking or communication, being quick witted, guiding people, teaching, etc. Your future spouse has money on their mind. This can sort of manifest in a multitude of ways, but they are very hard working. It doesn't really say definitively whether they are born wealthy or not, but it does give extra context on the sign or degree that it's in. They may talk about money or have a lot of ideas regarding how one can gain money.

If Jupiter is here: Most of you may have already read my rich spouse indicators post. You know how much Jupiter is raved to be the "wealthy spouse" indicator. Even if they did live a hard life, financially, they still had it much better than you did.

If Neptune is here: Similar to mars where they have no impulse control when it comes to spending or buying things. Being so entranced by the moment and ending up buying more than they set out to check out lmao. They may have an unreasonable or unrealistic approach to having money or towards their possessions at times.

If Saturn,Pluto, Chiron or Lilith is here: They may have grown up in poverty, perhaps their family has debt or are always struggling to make ends meet. Very common to see in spouses who grew up in broken homes, struggling because of the financial position they are born in.

Ex: Beyonce has Chiron (°22 Capricorn) in retrograde in her Taurus 8th house. Everyone that has heard any of Jay-Zs old songs knows that he did not grow up in wealth. He grew up in poverty, living in a public housing complex. His father left his family, which left his mother being the sole breadwinner of the family. At some point he had to sell cocaine to survive.

Though since it's in 22, he has struggled to turn his financial situation around i.e to get stacked lmao. The 8th house is in Taurus, which normally would mean that the spouse will have stable or good income. 22 as you know is "kill or be killed", and in this scenario he has come out extremely successful. Granted, Beyoncé also has the starr (4150) asteroid here in an aquarius degree. He is considered a legend in the industry for the unique contributions that he had made through his music. He's extremely influential.

If Part of fortune is here: Your spouse was likely born into a wealthy family, generational wealth. If not then they are very blessed in their career i.e always have a way to gain money or get a job. If they have a brand or business, it's likely that they can make a lot of money through that.

Materially stable signs in the 8th house:

Taurus, Libra, Sagittarius, Leo, Cancer

Somewhere in the middle:

Gemini, Capricorn (goes both ways), Virgo

Not as stable:

Aquarius, Scorpio, Aries, Pisces

(the sign it's in just gives more context, it's not the sole indicator.)

<< Important notice ✋🏻 ⚠️>>

If you have more than one planet, you have to combine their energies together, even if they may be contradicting. It doesn't "cancel each other out", but rather give you a progression or a clearer scenario. Please think wisely! Make sure to compare your Juno, Groom & natal chart together as well.

Thank you for reading ♡

@northopalshore

#spouse income #meeting spouse #future spouse astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astrology blog #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astrology community #astrology content #astrology ramblings #future spouse indicators #rich spouse indicators #poor spouse indicators in astrology #planets in the 8th house astrology #8th house astrology #future spouse #8th house and spouse income

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kdramafeeds · 3 months ago

Text

Who Are You School 2015 OST

Blow Away - Baechigi & Punch

Bully - Gae Mi

Fate - Gae Mi

In Memory - Gae Mi

It's Ok - Gae Mi

I Will Listen Never Alone - Yoon Mirae

Lean On Me - Gae Mi

Let's Pray b- Gae Mi

Love Song - Yook Sungjae & Park Hae Su

Named - Jonghyun & Taemin

Nightmare - Gae Mi

Pray - Younha

Remember - Byul

Remember and I Love You - Gae Mi

Rest - Tiger JK & Jinsil

Return - Wendy & Yuk Ji Dam

School Violence - Gae Mi

Star, Rain and Mom - Gae Mi

The Zero Hour Class - Gae Mi

Who Am I - Gae Mi

Who R U - Gae Mi

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vibelladonna · 3 months ago

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❛ 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒶𝑒 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝓍 𝑔𝓃! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: THIS IS PART TWO! If you haven’t read [ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 ], make sure you catch up first! Again I'm sooo sorry—I didn’t realize Tumblr had a word count limit, so I definitely went overboard. My bad. (Also, the header? Just for fun—just me being forever haunted by this art.)

Summary—where the tension between you and Geo thickens like venom in the air. What binds you brews slow and sharp, a toxic mix of unspoken truths and something neither of you can name.

It’s fragile. Addictive. And as it sinks deeper, you both know—this isn’t something you can walk away from.

But can you survive what it’s turning into?

Or will it devour you both?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Again, this is for my dearest mutuals, @mint0hhh artist of the [ header picture ], and @lu-dao-writes who gave me the setting and plot—plus a few add-ons from anons who asked for angst (you know who you are).

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: geo x gn and self insert! reader, angst (like. hella angst. cried while writing it.), slow burn, in vino veritas, mutual pining, enemies and lovers (kinda), first kiss, queerplatonic relationship, aroace rep, mentions of OCD, hyperawareness anxiety, emotional damage, (i really hurt my own damn feelings with this one.)

Every breath you took carried the bitterness of it.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much you tried to show who you really were, there was always something hidden beneath. Something toxic, something no one ever bothered to understand.

You were a plant no one cared enough to take care of, a mind no one ever wanted to see, only the surface—the mask you wore to keep yourself intact, the version of you that was palatable, easy to digest.

It wasn’t about your thoughts, your ideas, your emotions—it was about what they could take from you, what they could mold you into.

The soft, sweet persona they wanted you to be.

The version they could control.

The version they could consume.

You were always a belladonna—a striking, dark berry with soft, inviting green leaves, so beautiful in its deadly way, yet filled with a poison so potent that no one could ever truly consume you.

Too much to handle. Too much to bear.

A dangerous allure, a beautiful venom that no one could take in without choking on the truth of who you really were. And maybe that’s why no one ever truly saw you. They only wanted the delicate bloom, the surface—the easy parts. The parts were simple to look at, and simple to admire.

They never wanted the poison.

The world didn’t want you for your mind. It wanted your beauty, the image of you, soft and harmless. And no one could handle what was really inside—what you really felt.

They wanted what they could touch without being burned. The pieces of you that were easy to handle, easy to mold, the parts that could fit into the illusion they’d built around you.

Because no one could ever truly swallow the poison.

No one could bear the weight of the truth that came with it.

The pain clung to you, heavy and suffocating, a reminder of everything you couldn’t escape—of the poison everyone seemed to see in you.

You wondered if you’d ever be more than that, more than the mask you wore, more than the pieces of you that people could control, twist into something they could digest. Before you could even retreat into the quiet of your mind, that damn poison of his move.

Your eyes catches Subaru moving closer, his unreadable gaze settling on you.

There was something in his eyes—a flicker, something fleeting, like guilt, frustration... maybe even fear?

No, no, no—It definitely unsettled you more than it should have. He reached out, his hand, but the moment his fingers came near you, a surge of panic coursed through you, and you stepped back instinctively as if his touch could kill you.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice barely there, trembling with the weight of everything you couldn't say. “Don’t touch me, Subaru…”

But, of course, he didn’t listen.

In a breathless blur, Subaru closed the space between you—his body pressing into yours with a force that felt more like a warning than comfort. He cornered you against the closet wall, his presence overwhelming, his eyes sharp as blades as they bore down on you.

The tears you’d already let go many times before, finally broke through again, slipping past the mask you'd worn for so long, unraveling everything you’d kept so tightly wound. You stared up at him, your voice lost somewhere between shame and embarrassment, feeling small—so small—beneath the weight of his stare.

Exposed in every way you hated.

The words clawed their way up your throat, scraping against the ache in your chest as you beat your fists against him—soft, frantic, useless. He didn’t even flinch.

“How dare you pull me into this...” you choked out, voice hoarse, each word punching through the silence like shattered glass. “How dare I pull myself into this…?”

You turned your face away, shutting your eyes tight—trying to dam the rising wave inside you. But it didn’t stop. “And yet... you won’t even be in it with me?” Your voice cracked as it dropped lower, almost trembling. “You’re so fucking possessive—but you don’t care. You never even cared how it feels on my end, did you?”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed as your words hit him—sharp, accusing, too full of something he didn’t know how to handle. His brows knit tighter, not in empathy, but in growing discomfort, in the weight of an expectation he’d never invited.

He hadn’t seen it coming. Not like this.

The breakdown—the crash out—was worse than anything he’d ever warned you about. And for a split second, Subaru genuinely thought you’d lost it. Very much unhinged, unpredictable. Maybe even dangerous…? He wouldn't admit it, but yeah, it scared the hell out of him. You looked like you might kill him… And still, he didn’t move.

He just stood there, eerily calm, arms at his sides, expression carved from stone as you unraveled right in front of him. Your voice broke. Your fists hit his chest. And he didn’t flinch. Not once. As if the chaos couldn’t touch him. As if you weren’t even real.

No sympathy. No guilt. No warmth.

Just that same unreadable stillness he wore like armor.

Then finally, his voice cut through the silence—precise, and cold.

“…I never said I didn’t care.”

It came out like glass—sharp and brittle as if it scraped against something frozen inside him just to be spoken aloud. His hand reached out—not gently, never gently—and tilted your chin until your eyes met his again. There was no softness there. Just a flicker of restrained emotion, sharp around the edges, as though feeling anything at all was beneath him.

“Not care?” he repeated, his tone suddenly bitter. “Of course I fucking care. And I fucking hate that I do. I don’t even know what the hell it means either. I never wanted this. Any of this.”

Subaru had always kept his distance from things like this. Again, Romance. Sex. Intimacy. They were irrelevant distractions—useless, messy, and stupid. People who chased that sort of connection always ended up weak or dependent. That kind of vulnerability disgusted him.

And the idea of being part of it? Being someone’s something?

It made his skin crawl.

“I’m not built for that,” he said flatly, voice lowering, almost like he was confessing something he shouldn’t. “I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted it. Not with anyone.”

There was no apology in his tone—just cold honesty.

Not cruel, but detached, like he was stating a fact you’d simply failed to see. “I don’t think about people that way. I don’t want anyone like that. Never have. The idea of it—it doesn’t make sense. It’s not worth the time. Not worth the energy. And it’s beneath me.” But there was something else in his voice, buried under the frost. Something like confusion. Or maybe even fear.

He looked at you then, fully—your tears, your tiredness, your pain—and for a second, it almost cracked through. Almost.

“Why do you care so much?”

He asked suddenly, and his voice wasn’t sharp this time. It was quieter, rawer. Like he didn’t understand any of this—like he couldn’t fathom why you would put yourself through it.

The question hung there, heavy and quiet.

Why did you care?

Because to him, it was all just poison.

And he’d never asked for a taste.

You stared at him. For a long, aching moment, the silence stretched so thin it felt like it might snap in half.

Your breathing was still shaky, your hands trembling slightly by your sides now instead of pressed to his chest. You weren’t crying anymore—but that didn’t mean you weren’t hurting. The tears had stopped only because there was nothing left to spill.

You swallowed, hard.

“Because I see you,” you said finally, voice hoarse but steady.

You glanced down briefly, eyes catching the space separating you both—close, but not close enough. “I know you didn’t ask for this. I know you never wanted anyone getting this close. And you probably hate that I did. That I saw past the version you keep showing the everyone.”

You shook your head slowly, not in regret, but in something quieter. Sadder. “But I care, Subaru. I care because somewhere along the way, without trying, you got to me. Not the cold, calculated guy everyone thinks you are. Not the one who always acts like he’s in control, above like nothing sticks. I’m talking about you. The one who still bleeds, even if you pretend you don’t. The one who freezes up when something actually gets under your skin.”

Your eyes found him again, and your voice lowered, softer now, not pleading—just honest.

“I never wanted anything you couldn’t give. I wasn’t trying to change you, or fix you, or force you into something you’re not. That was never the point.”

You paused for a breath, but it barely helped.

Everything in you felt tight, coiled, like this confession had been clawing at your ribs for too long.

“I just… couldn’t ignore what’s between us. Like, forget fucking Crowe, like he didn’t convince me shit—I wanted to talk to you on my own. Even if it doesn’t make sense. Even if it’s messy and complicated. I feel it. And I know you do too, whether you admit it or not.” You released a soft sigh, tired, wistful.

“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t make me feel safe sometimes. And maybe I’m the only person who’s ever gotten under your skin enough to make you feel anything. You try to hide it, but I’ve seen it—how you act around me. You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

Another pause, this one laced with something like resignation.

Your shoulders dropped just a little.

“I know this isn’t love. Not like people think it should be. That’s not what this is. That’s not who we are.” You took a step back—just one. Just enough to breathe without brushing against his walls, the ones he always keeps up, even now.

“But whatever this is?” You gestured vaguely, helplessly, between your chests. “It’s real. It means something. Even if we never name it. Even if it irritates or scares the hell out of you. We’re both emotional, but we carry it differently. You bury yours. I try to make sense of mine. And somehow, that created something here—between us—that neither of us planned for.”

You hesitated.

You weren’t sure if your voice cracked or if it just sounded cracked from the inside.

“And maybe you’ll never feel it the way I do. Maybe this will always taste like something bitter to you, something wrong.” You gave a small, bitter laugh—empty, aching.

“Maybe to you, it’s just poison.”

You looked at him then, like you were finally letting something go.

“But even poison has roots.”

Subaru stood there, frozen—your words weighing down on him like they’d been waiting for years to land. His fingers, still wrapped around your wrists, began to loosen. Not because he wanted to let go, but because he didn’t know what the hell else to do.

Because suddenly, nothing made sense. He didn’t get it.

Why you? Why now?

Why here—in a goddamn closet, of all places?

You, with your eyes that didn’t flinch. You, who always said too much and still somehow knew when to stop talking. You, who never looked away from him like the others did.

And now you’d gone and seen him. The version he never let surface. The one buried beneath a thousand deflections and a mask carved so clean he’d started to believe it himself.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to shove it back down like he always did. But your words had already split the surface. The cracks were showing. His armor was rattling loose at the edges, and you—you—weren’t looking away.

That rattled him more than anything else.

His gaze locked on yours, desperate to catch you in a lie. To find some sign that this was just another manipulation, another twisted game. Because that, at least, would be easier. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.

But you weren’t bluffing.

You stood there, tired and unshaken, not trying to fix him, not trying to win—just being. And that kind of honesty, that kind of quiet truth, scared him in ways he didn’t have names for.

His jaw clenched. His grip faltered.

“…Why do you have to do this?” he muttered, voice barely audible. It wasn’t laced with anger. It was too soft for that. Too lost. Like he was begging you not to pull him further into something he couldn’t control.

You exhaled a hollow sound that echoed like a laugh stripped of joy. Tired. Real. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t push forward. You just looked at him, like you already knew what he was trying so hard not to feel. His hands dropped from your wrists completely now, hanging at his sides like they didn’t belong to him.

And in that fragile silence, you were still there. Unmoving. Unafraid.

Just you—the one person who had already called him out, stripped him bare, and still hadn’t walked away.

“Because I wanted to,” you said, quiet—like the answer should’ve been obvious. Your eyes didn’t waver. “You and I… we’re not stupid. We catch on fast, we read people faster. It’s not hard for us to figure out what most others miss.”

our voice dipped lower, steadier now. “And most people? They look at you and see exactly what you want them to. Controlled. Rude. Cold. Untouchable. Like you’re made of stone or something.”

You tilted your head slightly, watching him with a strange sort of calm. “But I’ve been paying attention. Really paying attention. And whether you admit it or not—you’re not as unreachable as you pretend to be.”

Seconds passed.

Heavy silence.

You let out a small breath and shook your head just a little, the barest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Subaru Oogami. Ambitious. Intense. The type of guy who holds his breath until he wins or breaks trying. Always chasing something bigger, something higher—like staying still might kill you.”

"And me?” You shrugged, casual but not careless. “I’m the charming, assertive, overly expressive one, right? Social. Playful. Emotional.” You leaned in a little, tone softening. “But I’m not here to mess with you. I’m not here to fix you either.”

You met his eyes again, unwavering. “I’m here because I see you breaking. Not all at once, not dramatically. But slowly. Quietly. The kind of breaking that no one notices until it’s too late.”

You took a step forward. No drama. Just steady. Just close.

“I’m not trying to save you, Subaru. I just… I don’t want you to be alone in that silence. That’s all.” You gave a small, sad laugh. “People like us—we don’t scream for help. We just learn to live with the noise in our heads.”

The air between you felt fragile—like if either of you moved too fast, it might all fall apart.

“I’m not asking you to feel the same. I’m not trying to label this, or make it something it’s not.” Your words came softer now like they were just meant for him and no one else. “But whatever this is… it’s real. And I think you feel it too, even if it makes you sick to admit it.”

You exhaled slowly, the weight of your words finally settling.

“That’s all.” No demands. No strings. No expectations.

You just said it. Because it was the truth.

And maybe, if all he knew was poison—then this was the first drop of something clean.

Something honest, just to feel.

Outside, just beyond the thrum of bass and drunken laughter, Sol moved through the house like a shadow with purpose. The party noise dulled behind closed doors, leaving only the faint echo of the chaos below as he climbed the stairs—each step quiet, controlled.

His movements were calm on the surface, but just under his skin, something was stirring. That familiar pull in his chest, too stubborn to name and too loud to ignore. He told himself he had it handled. That he had a plan. That this was just another situation to manage.

But his hand flexed at his side.

He hated how unsure he felt.

The hallway was dim, lit only by a soft flicker from motion detected overhead, the scent of cheap cologne and spilled alcohol still clinging to the air. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly where he was going.

And if he was being honest—something about this moment felt like it mattered more than it should have.

Find you, pull you aside, lay it all out. Simple.

He’d waited long enough. He’d seen Crowe with you earlier—grinning like an idiot as he tugged you by the wrist toward the staircase. Sol had caught just enough of the conversation to know Crowe had sent you to grab the party games from one of the upstairs rooms.

Games. Right. He told himself that’s all it was.

You’d probably grabbed the stuff and got distracted. Maybe sat down. Maybe needed a breather from the noise. Maybe you were waiting for him, even. A small smirk tugged at his lips at the thought… then faded as quickly as it came. Because it had been too long.

He hadn’t seen you since.

And Crowe had come back downstairs alone.

Sol’s brows pinched together, his fingers threading through his hair in frustration. Okay… okay, chill. You’re overthinking again. You always do this. But that silence—it wasn’t normal. Not for this kind of party.

Not when it came to you.

It started scratching at the back of his mind. That creeping, whispering kind of worry that didn’t speak in words—just pressure. Gnawing, anxious pressure.

So he started looking.

One room at a time. The spare bedroom—empty. The office? Nothing. The upstairs bathroom—just towels and the scent of cheap soap. The balcony? No sign of you. Just wind and a couple discarded solo cups.

His jaw flexed.

Next came the hallway closet. He tugged it open—still nothing.

His steps picked up. Sharper. Quicker. His heart started to thud in his chest in that uncomfortable, too-loud kind of way. His palms were sweating now, and that usual smirk? Gone. Stripped off like a mask.

Where the hell were you? He tried one last room—completely empty.

He cursed under his breath, quiet but seething. Then he stopped. Froze. He heard something.

Not loud—just a faint sound. Voices, maybe? Soft. Muffled. Like someone trying not to be heard. His eyes narrowed as he followed it. His boots were soundless over the rug as he crept toward the end of the hall.

The closet door. The very last one.

Sol’s steps faltered as he approached it. Every movement was deliberate, but slow—as if his body already knew what he was about to find. His fingers brushed the cold metal of the doorknob, the chill of it sinking into his skin. He didn’t turn it—Not yet. He just held it there, like if he waited long enough, he could will the entire situation away.

But his instincts screamed at him, urging him forward.

With a subtle tilt of his head, he leaned in, listening.

Your voice. Soft. Strained. Like you were trying to hold something together, but it was slipping through your fingers. Tired. Was that…? His stomach twisted as he heard the exhaustion in your tone. The words weren’t clear, but the weight of them was.

You were drowning in something you couldn’t say.

Then came the second voice.

Not Crowe. Not some random, stumbling idiot from the party.

Geo. Fucking Subaru Oogami.

Sol’s breath caught, his body frozen in place, muscles locking up as a wave of disbelief washed over him. His stomach dropped, a feeling of cold emptiness spreading through him, hollowing him out—No way.

Sol didn’t dare blink. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sliver of light between the door and frame. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to turn and walk away. To pretend he didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything.

But he stayed. Sol’s shifted his body slightly, pressing the side of his head closer to the narrow gap, the cool air from the closet wafting over his face.

His breath hitched in his throat as he glimpsed you and him inside.

Subaru, who had always carried that cold, invincible air, was barely holding himself together. sharp, brooding features. His usual unflinching demeanor cracked at the edges, the sharpness in his eyes dulling into something almost fragile.

His shoulders hunched forward, like a man on the verge of collapse. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, trembling as if he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

He didn’t speak. Not a word.

But the silence was louder than anything. It was heavy, oppressive—filling the space between you two with more tension than any words could ever create. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence was all-encompassing.

It told Sol everything.

Subaru was lost. And so were you.

That realization hit harder than any argument. Because at that moment, Sol could see it clearly. Subaru didn’t just look like a man caught in a moment. He looked like someone who had already lost the battle and was too proud to admit it.

The thing that hit Sol the hardest?

You weren’t fighting to get away.

You were just standing there. And Subaru?

Subaru wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t trying to run. He was just... frozen. Struggling to stay grounded in a world that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore.

It was everything Sol feared. And it made him feel small. It made him feel like he wasn’t the one who belonged there.

What the hell was happening?

You stepped in—just a little. Not because you felt sorry for him, but because you saw things clearly now.

Subaru wasn’t just being cold for the hell of it. He was worn down, running on fumes. Tired in that soul-deep kind of way. And yeah, maybe those words you dropped hit harder than he’d ever admit. Truth always tastes like poison to the ones who swallow silence for dinner.

You let your eyes stay on him. Really look.

Was he always this pale under bad lighting? Lips parted just slightly, like he was about to say something but couldn't find the words? And those aquamarine eyes—usually so sharp, so damn good at cutting people off before they got too close—now just looked... dazed.

Not by you. But by the weight of being seen.

He caught it. The look on your face. No pity. No judgment.

Just… recognition. That unspoken I know what it’s like.

That—more than anything—shook him.

He let out this scoff, low and tired, like the world had finally outed him and you were the last person he expected, “Why do you always do this?” he muttered, his voice rough around the edges. “Look at me like I’m not a fucking mess. Like you get it.”

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

You’d already said enough—maybe too much.

Any more honesty and it’d either finish him off or push the whole thing straight into cringe territory. So you just stood there, holding space for someone who didn’t even know how to ask for it.

“Damn it,” he hissed softly, voice fraying. “You're not supposed to understand. You’re not supposed to see me. Not like this.” He took a step forward, close enough that you could feel the slight tremble in his breath, his walls crumbling in quiet pieces. “You look like hell,” he murmured, deflecting—but his voice was soft. “And you still have the audacity to act like you’ve got everything figured out?”

You sighed faintly. “I never said I did.”

That hit him like a punch to the chest. Whiplash, but not from the words—from you. From the way you looked at him like you already knew the parts, he didn’t show anyone.

Like you’d swallowed the poison and called it by name.

Subaru’s brow twitched, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours. That unreadable expression cracked—just a little. Like he didn’t know whether to flinch or lean in.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t run, didn’t push, didn’t spit venom to make the moment disappear.

He just stepped forward, slow and almost hesitant, like his body moved before his mind caught up. You barely had time to process before he leaned in—close, closer. The space between you shrank until it barely existed at all.

Then—quietly, almost like it startled even him—Subaru kissed you.

There was no warning. No dramatic pause. Just the tiniest shift forward, like gravity pulled him in and he didn’t know how to resist it anymore. His lips pressed to yours, and for a second, time just… paused.

No sparks. No heat. No cliché breathlessness.

Just weight. Heavy, quiet, real.

It wasn’t a kiss meant to ignite anything. It wasn’t desire. It was something else entirely—like he was reaching out with the one thing he did have, even if it didn’t make sense to him. A wordless gesture of, “I heard you.” Of, “I don’t know what this is, but I’m still here.”

He kissed you like he was testing a theory.

Like maybe, just maybe, this didn’t have to hurt. Like maybe everything he’d buried—every dark, rotting thing he never let out—wouldn’t destroy the first person who’d seen it all and didn’t flinch.

And you kissed him back. Softly. Once. Steady. Not because it was romantic, or thrilling, or even something you needed to do. But because it felt like the right response. Like saying, “I get it.” Like keeping the moment still enough for him to breathe in it.

When you pulled back, it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t cold.

It was just… quiet.

Subaru blinked, the faintest crack in his usual blank armor showing through. He took a half-step back, not like he was retreating—just trying to figure out where the hell he stood now. His voice came out low. Barely there.

“…Didn’t feel like poison,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, like he was still deciding if that scared him or not.

You just stared at him, wide-eyed, trying to process what the hell just happened. Then nodded slowly. “…Yeah.”

Because deadass yeah—same. You didn’t expect that. Not from him. Not like that. You weren’t even sure if it was a kiss or some weird emotional exorcism wrapped in lip contact.

But whatever it was—it didn’t kill you. It didn’t kill him.

And that was... something.

Then—Click.

The door creaked open, sudden and sharp like a gunshot in the silence. Both you and Subaru flinched—not visibly, but in that gut-punch way where your bodies backed away from each other before your minds even caught up. You were both expecting Crowe, maybe Deryl. Someone familiar. Someone stupid enough to laugh and shake their heads and make it a joke.

But it wasn’t them. It was Sol.

And his face—It told a whole damn story in one glance. Your eyes noticed everything quickly—knew it. Shock, plain and raw, like he’d walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to see. Nah—he definitely saw the Hurt, carved right into the way his mouth parted like he couldn’t breathe for a second. Confusion, was visible in the flicker of his eyes like he was trying to make sense of what the hell he’d just walked into.

And then—rage.

Simmering. Controlled. Trying hard not to boil over. Trying so damn hard not to let it turn ugly in front of you. But it was there, all of it, coiled tight in his jaw, his clenched hands, his silence that said everything.

You didn’t move. Neither did Subaru.

And Sol just stared at the two of you—his red-orange eyes burning holes in your skin, trying to carve out an explanation that didn’t exist. His gaze flicked from you to Subaru, and for a moment, there was something almost obsessive in it, like he was weighing the truth of what he'd just seen.

Subaru was always been the problem.

Subaru was always there. Always hanging around, always too composed to be trusted. That calm demeanor, the way he acted like he was untouchable—like he owned everything around him. Those sharp eyes, those casual touches, those little looks he always gave you—Sol saw them all. He finally noticed it all. Every little thing that made Subaru seem just a little too comfortable around you, too close.

The pieces clicked in his mind, sharp and jagged, and the rage burned hotter. Sol’s voice snapped through the tension, low and furious, but with an eerie calm.

“You… you really think you can just have them?”

His words were a direct challenge. He wasn’t even looking at Subaru now. His eyes were fixed on Geo, a bitter fire lighting up his pupils.

Geo raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly glancing at Sol, but there was a flicker of something deeper there—recognition. He had caught it. The look in Sol’s eyes.

He wasn’t just pissed. He was dangerous.

“You really think they want you?” Sol spat, his words dripping with venom. “You think you can just play with them like this? Control them? Manipulate them?” His voice rose in volume with every word, an ugly distortion of what used to be affection. "You’ve been poisoning their mind, haven’t you? Telling them lies to turn them against me. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?"

Subaru took a step forward, fists clenched. “Look—“

“I know you’ve been sneaking around behind my back, trying to worm your way into their head,” Sol interrupted, stepping closer, his body tense like a coiled spring. “You think you’re so much better than me, huh? Think you can just take what’s mine?”

In a split second, Sol’s hand shot out, shoving Geo hard in the chest. Geo barely moved, but the force of the shove sent the tension in the room spiraling out of control.

Everything felt like it was about to snap.

“You’re batshit crazy emo-ass dude, like I always knew,” Subaru muttered, shaking his head. But there was no fear in his voice—only disgust.

And that was all it took.

Sol lunged. His hands shot out, grabbing Geo by the collar and slamming him against the hallway with a violent crash. His grip tightened, nails digging into the fabric, pulling Geo’s face close to his with a snarl. “Don’t you dare act like you’re innocent. I saw the way you looked at them. Saw the way you touched them like you had a right to.”

The two of them were close now, too close—breathing in the same air, teeth gritted against each other.

Subaru didn’t flinch.

Didn’t give Sol the satisfaction of seeing him scared.

With a growl, Sol shoved him again. This time, Subaru reacted. He swung—hard—hitting Sol square in the jaw with a heavy punch that sent his head snapping to the side.

The pain bloomed like wildfire, but Sol didn’t back down. He felt the blood in his mouth, but it only made him angrier. His vision blurred with fury, the edges of everything distorting as the fight burned through him.

With a roar, Sol tackled Subaru to the ground, fists flying. He was relentless—pounding into Subaru’s chest, his knuckles connecting with skin, the blows harsh and fast. But Subaru didn’t give up. He fought back, flipping them over with a growl, using his legs to pin Sol to the floor. His hands grabbed Sol’s wrists, forcing them down, using all his strength to keep him under control.

But Subaru was wild now. The rage was consuming him, burning everything else from his mind. His body writhed under Subaru’s grip, trying to break free, thrashing to land another punch, to hurt him.

The sounds of the music pounding downstairs seemed, like again, miles away, distant as the world outside continued without knowing the mess unfolding upstairs.

You couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not now. This wasn’t the time or place to be tearing each other apart—especially not with the party happening right below you, people oblivious to the mess unfolding up here.

You stepped forward, voice forced out through clenched teeth. “Enough, Sol,” you snapped, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady the rising panic in your chest. “This isn’t the time for this. The party downstairs—someone’s going to hear us!”

But Sol wasn’t listening.

“You think you’re better than me?” Sol’s voice was barely a growl as he tried to get his legs free, to push Subaru off. “You think you have the right to touch them? To take what’s mine?”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed as he tried to hold Sol down. His breath was coming fast, but there was a clear determination behind his gaze. “You need to get a fucking grip,” he snapped, voice low.

“They don’t belong to anyone.”

The words—those fucking words—hit Sol like a slap in the face. A crack in the dam. He threw his body forward, slamming his forehead into Subaru’s with a sickening thud, forcing him to stumble back. Blood leaked from his nose, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t stopping.

His rage was deafening, drowning out everything but the need to destroy. He lunged at Subaru again, not caring about anything else. And you acted on instinct, grabbing his arm to stop him, trying to hold him back, but before you could even register what was happening, a sharp, sudden pain exploded across your face.

Sol’s fist hit you square in the jaw.

The shock of it was immediate, but it wasn’t the pain that struck hardest. It was the fact that it was Sol—Sol—the one whom you thought you could trust, who’d been there for you in his own twisted way.

You stumbled back, your cheek stinging with the force of the hit, but before you could catch your breath, Sol was already there, his hand reaching out to you with a panicked, desperate expression.

“Shit—shit, I didn’t—” He quickly stumbled toward you, his voice soft, frantic. “Pumpkin... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But the words didn’t land.

You pushed him back with all the force you could muster, sending him stumbling backward until he hit the ground with a dull thud.

The hallway went eerily quiet for a second, the only sound was your ragged breath and the thundering beat of the music from downstairs.

Sol sat there, looking up at you, his breath shaky. He didn’t move.

Didn’t try to get up.

You stood over Sol, your chest tight with disgust, a slow, suffocating poison filling your veins. Every inch of you wanted to scream, to shout every truth you could at him, but the words felt so small against the weight of what had just unfolded.

You couldn’t make sense of it. You couldn’t undo the mess.

Subaru moved to take a step forward, but you held up a hand, voice as cold as ice. “Stay back, Subaru. I’ll handle this.”

But even you knew you were barely holding it together.

The truth was, you didn’t want him to control this any longer. You weren’t going to let him break you and then apologize his way back into your life like it was nothing. You weren’t like that.

With a sharp breath, you began, words laced with finality.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” You let the silence hang in the air, letting it sit between you like a thick, unspoken truth. “And I sure as hell don’t belong to you.”

Your gaze never wavered from his as you continued, each word deliberate, a cold shard of truth cutting through the tension. “What makes you think you and I could ever work out? I don’t even like you, Sol. Hell, I don’t even like art enough to care about that little thing you latched onto. Yeah, we both like horror stuff, but that's not some magical bond that makes us compatible. Do you think that’s enough? That I’d somehow fall for you because you want it?”

A bitter laugh escaped you, hollow and devoid of warmth.

“It was never going to happen, never in a million years. I don’t have feelings for you, nonexistent. Like whatever past life you and I had together had to be simply a pity, but even modern terms that have been long gone now.” You saw the flash of confusion in his eyes, the shock written all over his face as your words sunk in, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Sol just stared at you, like he didn’t know what the hell hit him. His mouth opened as if to speak, but the words never came, hanging in the air uselessly.

“You need to understand something, Sol,” you continued, stepping back just slightly, making sure your words hit home. “You’re so desperate for the poison that you think it’ll save you. But I’m not the one to give it to you. We were never meant to be anything—certainly not this. I don’t want you. I never did. And you... you’re just looking for something to destroy yourself with.”

You didn’t care that it hurt.

You didn’t care that his feelings were crushed.

This wasn’t about him anymore. This was about clearing the air—about making him face the truth, even if it shattered him.

Sol was quiet. Instead, he looked down, fingers twitching like he was about to reach for you again. But his movements were slow, hesitant. He could see it now—could see the shift in you, could feel it in the air between you.

And that was enough to stop him.

For a moment, he just sat there, his eyes not meeting yours, his chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he muttered, voice strained, unsure. His words were softer now, quieter. “I’m sorry... for everything.”

But the apology didn’t feel real. Not after all of this.

You didn’t even flinch as you looked down at him, your eyes cold, your heart colder. “Don’t apologize. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Sol opened his mouth like he was about to say something, maybe try again, but you weren’t going to let him.

Not now. Not after everything.

Sol's eyes flickered between you and Subaru, rage still bubbling beneath the surface, only now, it was simmering in a way that suggested he was ready to snap at any second. He was convinced Subaru was the issue—he was the one who had interfered.

His hands clenched into fists once more, and before anyone could react, he launched himself forward toward Subaru.

But in a blur of motion, a hand shot out, grabbing Sol’s arm and twisting it behind his back with brutal force. Sol's breath was ripped from his lungs in a strangled gasp as he was forced down to the ground, his face contorting in a mix of frustration and pain.

You froze. Subaru froze.

Neither of you had seen it coming.

“Hyugo?” you called out, a mix of confusion and shock in your voice. That’s right he came with Sol to the Halloween party.

The once-MIA student, the carefree and elusive presence you barely expected to have your back, stood there with Sol’s arm twisted at an impossible angle, his face unreadable. He wasn’t the cheerful, playful version you knew—this was a side of him you hadn’t seen before.

Cold, decisive, and completely in control.

Subaru’s confusion mirrored yours. His eyes flickered between you and Hyugo, his expression clearly saying the same thing: What is happening right now?

Hyugo didn't respond, his grip tightening on Sol’s arm, pressing him into the ground with unyielding force. For a second, it seemed like the entire hallway was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

"Don’t put your hands on my little brother," Hyugo growled, his voice low, the words carrying the weight of a threat so heavy it could’ve cracked glass. You could feel the tension in the air as his eyes flicked between you and Subaru, before landing back on Sol, pinning him like he was already dead in Hyugo’s eyes.

Hyugo then turned his gaze to Subaru. "Get them out of here," he said, tone cold, like he wasn’t even fazed by the chaos. "I already called the cops. Leave now."

You glanced at Subaru, and fuck, his face was a mess of emotions.

It was pale as hell, looking like he’d just seen something he couldn’t unsee—disgust, anger, confusion, all mixed up into a look you couldn’t even describe. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. But he didn’t say a word. Just took one last look around, then grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the goddamn chaos.

You both made your way downstairs, and as if on cue, the flashing lights of a police car lit up the night, blinding and warning everyone at the same time. Oh shit. The entire party started scattering like cockroaches, people rushing out the doors, running in every direction, looking for an escape. It was a mess.

Crowe was standing near Deryl, Brittany, and Jess, already looking stressed the fuck out as he scanned the scene. “Who called the police??” he barked, looking around for answers like someone had just committed a crime.

Before anyone could respond, he saw you and Subaru, and his eyes went wide. “Did I miss drama?” he asked, “Wait—how did you get out of the closet..?” but when his gaze landed on your face.

“Hella, broken lock” you replied, your tone flat.

Without waiting for any further questions, you turned and started heading straight for the back door, already feeling the weight of everything press down on you.

“Sorry Crowe, but we gotta dip,” you called back, barely slowing down. “I’m on scholarship. Party planner out.” You didn’t even glance back as you slipped out into the night, leaving the chaos behind.

You moved through the darkened streets, not looking back, your footsteps quick and steady. The cool night air hit your face, but the adrenaline kept you warm.

Subaru was right behind you, shouting over the noise of the night, “Hey! Slow the fuck down!” He was still trying to catch up, his voice tight with a mix of concern and annoyance, but you were too far gone in your own head to care.

Before you could even make it to the end of the block, Deryl, Brittany, and Jess appeared, practically sprinting after you. Brittany looked pissed off, her hair falling out of place as she muttered curses under her breath as Jess held on to her. Deryl, for once, was being useful—grabbing Crowe by the arm and dragging him along in a half-assed attempt to keep him from falling apart.

When you all finally arrived at the diner, it was like a collective exhale. The neon lights above the early breakfast spot flickered in the darkness, offering a sharp contrast to the chaos you’d just left behind.

You all shuffled inside, and the scent of greasy food and fresh coffee hit you like a wave. Everyone was wiped out, some still catching their breath. Deryl and Subaru seemed to be the only ones still standing strong, while the rest of you were just... trying not to collapse.

No one said a word as you slid into the corner booth, settling between Crowe and Subaru. Their presence was a solid weight on either side of you—comforting in its own, strange way.

The six of you settled into silence for a second, trying to process what had just gone down. Everyone’s eyes were darting around, unsure of where to start, like it was some sort of unspoken rule to not bring up the mess of the night just yet.

Deryl was the first to break the silence, though his voice was still full of energy like he didn’t just witness a fight that nearly ended in a disaster. “So, who’s planning the next party? Because that shit was hype, even if the cops came. I’m just sayin’,” he grinned like the whole thing was some sick joke.

Brittany, on the other hand, was visibly disappointed, slouching in her seat and poking at her menu. “I was gonna get soooo wasted by the end of the night,” she muttered, glancing out the window like she was mourning the loss of the evening. “But nooo, gotta get the cops involved. Real fucking fun.”

Crowe was sitting there, rubbing his forehead, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole. “This is why I don’t throw parties in my guest house,” he grumbled, clearly stressed. “What the hell was I thinking? My aunt’s gonna kill me.”

You looked at him, blinking for a moment. “Guest house?” you asked, half in disbelief. “You threw that entire thing in a guest house?” You couldn’t help but sigh under your breath. “That’s rich people’s problems right there.”

Crowe threw you a look, leaning back in his seat like he was trying to disappear into the booth. “Yeah, well, I’m not throwing a party at my real house. Not a chance in hell,” he muttered, sinking deeper into the cushions.

You grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Got damn rich people,” you teased, but your mind was already working. You motioned to the table with a nod. “All right, since our night is fucked, how about you all pick up the tab?”

Crowe’s head snapped toward you, eyes widening. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” you said with a smirk, “pay for the bill. I did all the work to make sure it was perfect until the cops showed up. So, unless you wanna keep wasting my time, I’m cashing out.”

Subaru, still processing everything, threw you a confused look, but you were already counting the minutes in your head until this night would be over.

Crowe sighed, finally giving in, rubbing his temples like he weighted the world on his shoulders. “Fine, fine, I’ll pay. You guys are seriously killing me, but yeah, I’ll cover the food,” he muttered, glancing at the menu like he wanted to melt into it. Everyone at the table perked up at his words, though you could tell they were still in a bit of shock from everything that went down earlier.

The waiter moved through the group, taking orders as the quiet hum of conversation settled in. The usual noise that felt uncomfortable you first felt when it came to hanging around this friend group.

However, now?

More like the peaceful weight of a night that had finally caught its breath. The chatter that followed was filled with clumsy attempts to fill the silence, like people fumbling to catch up with the rhythm of a moment they hadn’t quite grasped.

Deryl was as animated as ever, his voice loud and scattered as he rambled about finding a new spot for the next party—praying it wouldn’t end with sirens again.

Brittany, still jittery from the night’s chaos, was looking forward to her drink like it was a lifeline, a simple comfort she could hold onto.

Jess, the usually quiet observer, seemed lost in thought, her hands absentmindedly picking at her food. Her gaze was distant as if the events of the night had nudged something inside her—something she wasn’t sure how to deal with just yet.

It was like that—the way the conversation naturally folded into a silence that no one rushed to fill. Something about the way this group connected felt like solanaceae, that fun, intoxicating beauty wrapped in a delicate skin of thorns.

You could feel it in the way each of them interacted—like this quiet understanding of each other’s complexity, how the rawness of who they were was met with unspoken acceptance.

They were like a vine of nightshade, one that, if you got too close, could prick your skin with its sharp edges, but if you leaned in just right, it would wrap around you, tender yet fierce.

Even though they were different, even though they weren’t perfect, being here, surrounded by this strange blend of warmth and edge, felt like finding a place where you could just exist without the weight of expectations.

They cared—maybe not in ways you could always understand, but in ways that were real. There was a comfort here, but it was the kind you had to lean into, the kind that could hurt, but also heal.

And somehow, it felt safe.

Even in the moments of tension or silence, there was a knowing that this was where you belonged—among the thorns, wrapped in the strange, bittersweet beauty of something real.

And then, as if to stir the pot once again, Crowe dropped the topic that no one had thought to touch.

“So,” he started, his tone more casual than before, but you could tell there was an edge to it, like he was trying not to seem too concerned, “you two…” He nodded toward you and Subaru. “You guys locked in that closet, huh? What the hell happened in there?”

You froze, instantly wishing you could sink into the booth.

You didn’t want to talk about it.

Not with Crowe, not with anyone.

Whatever happened in there—it stays between You and Subaru.

The weird, messy thing that didn’t need explaining. But Crowe wasn’t letting it go, his eyes glancing between you and Subaru like he was trying to piece together the puzzle.

Subaru shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but before you could say anything, Crowe mumbled more to himself than anyone else, “I didn’t mean to put you two through that. But... watching you both not talk to each other? It’s messing with my head.”

The weight of the words hit you, and you could feel Subaru’s eyes on you, waiting for your response. You didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to give Crowe any satisfaction of knowing what had gone down. You shrugged it off, pushing the conversation away as best you could.

“It’s whatever,” you said quietly. “We’re fine now.”

You didn’t say more because, honestly, you weren’t sure what more to say. The tension was still thick between you and Subaru, but that was something you’d handle on your own. Again, you didn’t need Crowe or anyone else trying to meddle.

Just as the conversation shifted back to the party, you absentmindedly picked up your food, taking a bite, only to have Subaru’s hand shoot out in a flash. His fingers brushed against your face, and you barely had time to react before he wiped something off your cheek with a napkin, his voice low and careful.

“Don’t eat with your mouth full,” Subaru said in that familiar, borderline nagging tone, like he was scolding you but in the softest way possible. He wasn’t angry, just a little too invested in making sure you didn’t look like a mess in front of everyone.

Then, without missing a second, he placed a napkin neatly on your lap, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture that no one else at the table seemed to miss.

The entire table fell silent for a second.

You could practically hear the wheels turning in their heads. Everyone was staring, eyes wide, mouths slightly agape. Subaru’s quick, unexpected affection caught them all off guard. It was strange, watching him be so… attentive in his own blunt, rude way. He wasn’t exactly gentle, but there was something undeniably tender about the way he took care of you, even if it was just wiping your face.

It was the little things that made it all so damn confusing.

“Yo,” Deryl finally broke the silence, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “What the hell was that?”

Brittany blinked a couple of times, eyes narrowing. She shifted her gaze between you and Subaru, like she couldn't figure out if she was witnessing something cute or downright creepy. "You two... are weird."

“Are you two together?” Jess asked, her voice cutting through the awkward tension. The whole table went quiet, their eyes immediately flicking between you and Subaru.

You let out a sigh, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk.

“I don’t know, are we together, Subaru?”

Subaru froze, suddenly stiffening. His eyes darted around, probably realizing for the first time how damn odd everything must've looked. His mind must’ve been racing, trying to come up with an excuse, something that could make sense of all this mess.

He shouldn't have done that.

Especially in front of everyone.

He scowled, trying to brush it off, but still couldn’t pull his gaze away from you. “Oh, shut it,” he muttered, scooting away from you slightly as he turned to face the others. His eyes went sharp.

“It’s none of your damn business, you nosy fucking idiots.”

“Bruh, they deadass called you by your first name,” Deryl threw in, clearly trying to rile Subaru up.

Subaru’s eyes darkened at the mention of it, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. He gave a low huff, but his voice had that bite to it.

"Shut your mouth, Deryl."

Crowe was staring too, but his gaze was different. More thoughtful, like he was trying to piece something together. He glanced at you for a split second, then back to Subaru, before letting out a deep sigh. Finally, Crowe couldn’t resist adding his two cents, his voice laced with amusement.

“Looks like someone’s acting soft~”

Subaru’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking under his skin. He wanted to wipe that smug look off Crowe’s face, but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Not yet.

You couldn’t help but laugh—soft and genuine. You knew it wasn’t really funny, but the ridiculousness of it all just hit you at that moment. Maybe it was the weird energy between you and Subaru, maybe it was the whole mess with the party... or maybe you just liked the idea of breaking the tension, even if only for a second.

But right when the atmosphere lightened a little, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced down at the screen, seeing Hyugo’s name flashing up. Without missing a second, you excused yourself.

“Hold on a sec,” you said, standing up from the booth. Subaru instantly furrowed his brow, watching you.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice a little too sharp.

Of course, everyone at the table immediately jumped on him, teasing. "Yo, Subaru, you can’t just let her leave like that?" Deryl grinned, leaning forward. "What, no ‘be careful’? No ‘call me later’?"

Brittany and Jess were quick to jump in too, their eyes practically glowing with amusement. "What's up, Subaru? You need to go after her?" Brittany asked, barely suppressing her grin.

Subaru growled low in his throat, clearly irritated. "Shut up, all of you."

You bit back a smile as you glanced at him.

"Relax, I’ll be back in a minute."

Subaru’s eyes didn’t leave you as you made your way to the back area, heading toward the bathrooms. You could feel their eyes on you even as you stepped away, but you didn’t care. You needed a moment to yourself, a quick breather before dealing with more of whatever was happening at that table.

Once you were safely out of their line of sight, you took a breath and reached into your pocket to pull out your phone.

You needed a moment to clear your head, to get away from the chaos. Pressing the device to your ear, you stepped deeper into the quiet corner near the bathroom, the noise of the party just barely audible through the walls.

"Hey, Hyugo," you said, lowering your voice, feeling the tension still clinging to you like an unwanted weight.

Hyugo’s voice crackled through the speaker, steady and calm, but you could still hear that subtle edge beneath it. "Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay after all that? Did you and my little brother make it out?"

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cold wall, letting his voice ground you for a moment. "Yeah, we’re fine. We got away with the others. Things got... little messy, but in a fun way. Our friends are straight up messing with him, and joking about the party."

Hyugo let out a laugh, and you could almost picture the happiness pulling at his lips. "That’s so funny. I bet he’s all red in the face. He flushes easily, you know." His laugh rang through, light and genuine, and you couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

But then his tone shifted, softened. "You know..." he began again, more quietly now, like he was choosing his words carefully.

"Don’t listen to Sunny, well… Sol. He’s just…" He trailed off, and you could hear the unspoken understanding in his voice. "He’s complicated. You don’t need to let him drag you down into whatever mess he’s dealing with. You’re better than that."

You felt a weight lifting from your chest at his words. The heaviness of everything that had happened—the chaos, the hurtful words, the confusion—seemed to dissipate a little.

"Okay," you muttered softly. "I’ll try."

You hesitated for a moment, “Where is Sol?”

Hyugo sighed before saying, "We both got out before the cops saw us,” he said. "But don’t worry, I handled him. I made sure." There was a quiet assurance in his words, like he knew exactly how to deal with his younger brother, even if the details were something you weren’t sure you wanted to picture.

His words were comforting, but it was more than that—there was a dangerous edge to them, a possessiveness that spoke of a bond you knew better than to question. Hyugo wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to protecting those he cared about.

You breathed out slowly, glancing down at the phone in your hand. Time was slipping away, and you couldn’t afford to be away from the table for too long.

"Thanks, Hyugo," you said, your voice tinged with sincerity. "I appreciate you looking out for us.”

He laughs softly, clearly hearing the warm of his voice, "Of course," he said, his tone light but full of that familiar teasing warmth.

"I’d be a terrible older brother if I didn’t."

There was a pause, and you could almost hear him considering something, weighing his next words carefully before he spoke again, his voice lower, quieter.

"But as his older brother..." he said slowly, almost thoughtfully. "Just... take care of my little brother for me. And of course, take care of yourself, okay?" His words were soft but firm like he was entrusting you with something important. "I just want you two to have a better life. A peaceful one, if that’s even possible, with… Subaru."

The sincerity in Hyugo’s voice lingered in your mind, a warmth that pushed away some of the tension you’d been holding. Even with everything that had happened, his words gave you a small sense of reassurance.

Maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

Maybe things with Subaru could be… different.

You sigh softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond. “I’ll try. We’re perhaps compatible. Like, he’s a handful, you know.”

Hyugo’s laugh came through again, deep and knowing, like he was in on some unspoken joke. "I know, tell me about it... Thank you, and I’m sorry, I’ll see you sometime around,” he added before the call ended.

For a moment, you stood there, the soft hum of your friends in the background, Hyugo’s words hanging in the air. There was something about him, something different when it came to you. And even though you couldn’t quite place it, one thing was clear—Hyugo doesn’t play about his little brother.

And maybe he did it for you….

Nah, that’s a lie because—you frowned your brows—thinking about Hyugo must know of Sol god awful obsession with you, because ain’t no damn way. Maybe that’s why he said he was sorry at the end once he realized that you have a connection with his little brother… hmm.

Anyway—you were about to head back to the table, the sound of footsteps approaching snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you even saw him, you could feel Subaru’s presence. And then his voice—quiet but piercing.

“Is he gone?”

You jumped, the suddenness of it making your heart stumble. Spinning around, you found Subaru standing there, his figure looming over you like an unspoken warning. His gaze was piercing, searching for something, maybe for a crack in your calm exterior.

“Subaru, please don’t do that,” you said, your voice strained as you tried to steady your racing pulse. His unexpected closeness, that tension between you, still hadn’t fully settled, and now he was standing there, making everything feel worse and more complicated.

“Yeah, Hyugo’s gone,” you muttered, trying to make your tone sound as casual as possible. But your voice was flat, betraying the way your chest still felt tight from the earlier conversation.

You glanced up at him, a wave of curiosity creeping in.

“You heard everything?”

For a moment, Subaru didn’t answer. His gaze locked onto yours, unreadable—cold, but with something sharp lurking beneath. Something almost… worried? The intensity of it made the air around you crackle with unspoken words. But instead of responding, he shifted slightly, looking away, as though something was clawing at him that he refused to face.

“I didn’t want to sit at the table with them while waiting,” he muttered, his voice edged with irritation, but there was something else there too—a softness, a crack in the armor.

“Too many idiots messing with me...” He scowled, as though frustrated by his own vulnerability, and you could see it in the way he tried to pull away, afraid of showing too much. But then, almost as an afterthought, his voice softened again, and his eyes flickered toward you, sharper now but tinged with something unspoken.

“But I came to check on you,” he added, and even though his tone was still laced with that cool indifference, you could hear the slight hesitation beneath it.

Like maybe, just maybe, he was just worried.

“Don’t need to be so dramatic,” you said, almost laughing. “I’m fine.”

Subaru shot you a look, narrowing his eyes at your comment, but then his posture shifted. “Text that short shit I said thanks,” he grumbled, “but don’t—I swear to god, make it over the top or he’ll never leave me alone on campus.”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh, “Sure,” you muttered, nodding as you looked at him. His expression was still cold, distant—like a layer of frost between you two.

But his eyes? They told a different story.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of it all, the strange pull between you two. “Anyway,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice cutting through the moment. “Let’s get out of these nasty-ass restrooms. I’ll give you hand sanitizer once we’re back at the table.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Subaru…”

“And you need to drop that art class,” he continued, oblivious to the way you’d called him out. “Start taking your major classes. Plan a better route. Just in case that fucker tries to mess with you.”

“Subaru…” you interrupted again, a little more firmly this time, trying to catch up with his rapid-fire thoughts.

“I’ll start walking with you to your classes since ours aren’t far apart. You can stay with me at my place until we find you somewhere else. I don’t care what my bitch-ass father says. I’ll handle it. That emo-fucker... I don’t trust him. I can’t—”

“Subaru,” you called, cutting him off mid-rant, a touch of annoyance slipping into your voice. “Shit, you're way ahead of my ass.”

He stopped in his tracks, his words trailing off. He blinked, clearly realizing how much he’d blurted out. His face turned slightly reddish pink, his eyes flickering away from yours as he tried to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, muttering under his breath.

“I know. Sorry,” he mumbled, his tone a little gruff as he avoided eye contact, his usual arrogance faltering just a bit.

You felt a little smile tug at your lips, but it wasn’t out of mockery. More like a realization, something that settled in your chest, warm and heavy. Subaru—despite the tough shell he put up—was starting to show you pieces of the person he used to be.

Or maybe, just maybe, the person he was becoming.

Perhaps, in that very poison, your truthful words had managed to move him.

Subaru looked down at you, the faintest laugh escaping his lips, mixed with that little annoyance in your voice.

The crazy part?

You were his, and he was yours—something neither of you could quite wrap your heads around. He leaned in slightly, his gaze softer now, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor starting to fade.

“A Belladonna, you know," Subaru said almost lovingly but annoyed, the words falling between you like a secret just for the two of you.

You blinked at him, momentarily lost in the meaning of it before your eyes softened. The shift was subtle, but it made you appear more alluring than ever. Belladonna?—dangerous, intoxicating, wrapped in mystery and allure.

A poison, sure, but not the kind that burned.

You were the berry, sweet yet deadly, something Subaru never thought he’d be so drawn to. And yet, here he was, tangled up in the wild, intoxicating forest of campus and your presence.

The kind of danger that didn’t destroy, but wrapped him in its pull, making him crave more. Always more. Subaru was immune to it, somehow, able to take on everything you were without being consumed. And that? That made you even more captivating in ways he couldn't fully explain.

"Didn't think you knew Italian or plants like that," you teased, an amused glint in your eyes.

Subaru sighed, that arrogant confidence of his never fully gone. "One, I speak five languages. Two, I like plants."

You rolled your eyes at his answer, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. “Aw, first you call me a beautiful plant, now you're pulling out the fancy language?” you scoffed, crossing your arms with mock offense. “Weird, but okay.”

Subaru gave you that look—the one that danced on the edge of a challenge and a confession. “It’s belladonna,” he said smoothly, his voice low, rough with sarcasm, “It means deadly nightshade, a poisonous plant. Don’t go twisting my words like I called you ‘beautiful’ or anything. Don’t get cocky, smartass.”

And yet… the way he looked at you as he said it—his eyes sharp and unreadable, lingering a bit too long on your lips, on the curve of your smirk—betrayed him.

His mouth said one thing, but his gaze? That told the truth.

You weren’t just a poison to him.

You were a craving. Addictive.

Dangerous in the kind of way that pulled him closer, even when he knew he shouldn't. Not toxic—no.

Just potent enough to blur the line between warning and invitation.

You caught the look in his eyes—the way they softened for just a second like he'd forgotten to keep the mask on. That wall of his, the one he built so carefully, cracked without a sound. And in that silence, something honest slipped through.

Then he said it again, quieter this time, almost like it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“…My belladonna.”

No smirk. No smug edge.

Just the weight of his voice brushing against your skin like a whisper no one else could claim.

The words settled into your chest, blooming slow and warm, stealing your breath without asking. He didn’t have to mean it like that—but something about the way he said it made your heart stumble anyway.

Beautiful poison. Deadly nightshade.

But what Subaru didn’t know—what he clearly didn’t realize—was that you knew that belladonna also meant beautiful lady in Italian. And you weren’t about to tell him. Never. Let him pretend he wasn’t sweet. Let him keep thinking he wasn’t calling you beautiful.

You arched a brow, biting back a grin.

“Didn’t think you were the poetic type.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing like it physically pained him. “I’m not. You’re just dramatic. And annoying. And smug as hell.”

But he didn’t deny it. And he didn’t take it back.

Instead, he glanced away with that familiar scowl—half exasperated, half something softer, "You're lucky I even tolerate you," he grumbled, voice low and rough, but you heard it—that warmth sneaking in like it always did when he got too close.

You were his poison, no doubt—but the kind that lingered sweetly on the tongue. Addictive. Secret. Worth every risk.

You tilted your head at him, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Vice versa,” you hummed. “And yet here you are, still choosing to ‘tolerate’ me. Such possessiveness.”

He rolled his eyes hard enough to see the back of his skull.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he shot back, but his mouth betrayed him—edges twitching up, just barely.

You both knew what was happening.

He wasn’t running. Wasn’t pushing away. He was already caught. Wrapped up in everything you were. Falling—grudgingly, carelessly, completely—into the mystery of you.

His belladonna.

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb vn #tkatb geo #geo oogami #the kid at the back mc #the kid at the back geo #subaru oogami #tkatb geo x reader #I'm never writing anything this damn long ever again

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buttercupblu · 9 months ago

Text

SoftDom!Suguru

Geto Finds Your Fanfic X Reader|Birthday One-Shot

the deets: uh, oh...girl, your boyfriend found your smut 😶 w.c: 12.3k (look...it is what it is) tags: fem!reader, fanfic indulgence (reverse uno, reader is an ADDICT—SHOCKER), mention of smut which is so ironic, delulu reader has all her dreams come true with the dreamiest fucking boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, soft-dom power dynamic, clitoral and vaginal masturbation, spanking/impact, edging/orgasm denial, fingering, forced orgasm, mention of breath play, gagging and throat fucking, mention of wax play, rope/restraint play, overstimulation, use of vibrator, P in V, creampie, reader’s brain is scrambled as she’s fucked into oblivion and ‘space’ (if you know you know), and most importantly, 💗💗💗CONSENT AND AFTERCARE IS SEXYYY💗💗💗 angel’s note: i almost named this 50 Shades of Geto chat 🧍🏾‍♀️…|a SoftDom!Suguru inspo pic i came across while writing 🥴 earworm 🐛: Freak in You|PartyNextDoor [Hoe|Jhene Aiko in video header]

Is this really the life I'm living?

Stifled moans threatening to spill over your puffy lips say yes.

That's less noticeable than the sharp, cool air kissing your aching nipples, though. Cute, little buttons that make your boyfriend's dick jump when he thinks about pinching them.

But neither compare to the coarse feel of the rope wrapped around your dainty wrists—competing for your attention and burning into your skin the more you grapple with it.

Remnants will be there for days. Intricate lines of art that mark your body and make your slutty little mind smile.

But only fear lives in your eyes looking into Suguru's—his face smug but stern.

A slight grin graces his lips as he raises his hand. “Eyes on me.”

And you hold your breath, knowing that it’ll be 100 times worse if you look away, and wait for the—

Holy fucking coW, this is not a drill this is nOT A DRILL.

You squealed watching the mail truck drive off from the post you'd been stalking for hours—barely containing yourself from tearing the package to shreds the moment it's in your hands after rushing back inside.

Weeks had gone by, WEEKS, waiting for the beauty so gracefully wrapped in a shimmery tulle. Delicately peeling it away, you practically creamed yourself the second you pulled it from its satin bag.

It was finally in your hands, your fingers tracing over the glossy cover and raised title, not believing you were finally witnessing it in all its glory. And God, that new book smell was like crack.

Isn't It Sweet?

You nodded, biting your lip, agreeing with one of your favorite authors of all time as you marveled at their latest limited-book release.

One of only 1000 copies.

You remember how shaky your hands were when you ordered it, having set 4 or 5 alarms to make sure you didn't miss out on the drop. But you probably should've won an award for the world's fastest order the way you secured the bag with the quickness. And after daydreaming about it for days, you wanted nothing more than to hug it into your chest like a newborn babe.

Anyone who knows you would agree and say you're an avid reader (as if your overflowing bookshelf isn't enough evidence.) Still, you would say you were maybe just slightly above average—only spending about 5 to 6 hours a day gluing your eyes to books and words. Fully immersing yourself in endless lives, worlds, and universes was nothing as long as the life was worth living. And you're no stranger to all kinds of genres.

The classics. Sci-Fy. Horror. Smut. Occasional non-fic and self-help because it pays to be well-rounded. Romance is often hit or miss, but it has its moments.

What?

Oh ya. That's right.

That said smut.

And oh baby, does it have its claws in you.

Especially when it comes to fanfic.

Are you the world's biggest nerd? Maybe not (that's a lie; you've cosplayed and been to a few conventions—you're too far in the trenches, beloved, and it's okay), but the second someone mentions anime, you almost break your neck to listen in. Waiting to see if your favs are mentioned.

With most of them, you come for the action, laughs, and often heartbreak. Your latest fav was a great example of all of the above and taking the anime world by storm. The storyline and PTSD you get from watching it are part of the reason why, but truth be told, it's mostly because of the real gems you get if you stay. Gracing the screen from the first episode to the last.

Drop-dead gorgeous fictional daddies.

Being ate up around the world for being too good to be true. And there are more than enough of them to build a harem all wrapped up in a cute, gory little bow.

And you're the baddest of the down bad.

But you're not alone.

Oh dear love, very, very far from it.

The simps are everywhere.

And you're the queen of Delulu Land, full of edits, cosplays, AUs, and art galore of anything you could ask for. And who could forget the stories?

Just the sheer amount of raw, raunchy, unsolicited smuttiness you get out of those is enough to make anyone sweat like a sinner in church. And you keep coming back for more.

It amazes you, the quality of content you get from those fandoms written by everyday people that even rival popular published works. But God, you can't even begin to imagine the sheer amount of batshit-crazy and unhinged energy it must take to think up and create such toe-curling filth.

Be there you were. Holding your second hardcopy fanfic that managed to make it off of the internet. About to shamelessly indulge your tastes once again.

It didn't help that the cover was positively delish. It had a dark and mysterious air that you instantly recognized and made you feel a little funny. The infamous style belonged to one of your fav fanfic artists, and you couldn't believe the collab of your dreams was real.

Your bath was about to be one for the books, and you wanted to wait until you were simmering in the tub to open it, but you just had to get a sneak peek of the author's note at least.

You laughed, expecting nothing less as you read the gaggorific but true words. They're so unserious.

But this bath was about to be.

Rosy scents filled the bathroom as you lit a few candles and drew your bath, sprinkling salts and tiny petals into the bubbles.

Anyone on the outside looking in would think you were preparing for a date, and in a way, they would be right, but this solo ritual was routine anytime you got your hands on a good, smutty story.

Sighing, you sank into the cloud of bubbles, your muscles instantly relaxing in the hot, steamy water as you exhaled your cares away and let your head fall back against the fluffy body pillow.

The water felt amazing, and you could spend forever soaking in paradise, but slowly, your face began to warm. Not just because of the sweltering bath curling waves of steam around your body but also because of the heady thoughts that floated through your brain when you remembered why you were there. And so you pulled the caddy into the tub, your heart fluttering as you set up your book and dove in.

Fruity notes coated your tongue as you sipped a new wine between scenes, warming not just your tummy but also your core. Desire steadily built as you flipped through the pages, eyes soaking up the words as the scenes played in your head like you actually had the privilege of being a voyeur of such vulgar moments.

Your hand absent-mindedly drew small circles on your neck the more you imagined and read about your fav fictional daddy. Hearing his voice, trailing your finger down your chest as you envisioned his sharp, sultry eyes. That face he makes when he's being a big, tough, serious guy and somehow your hand ended up between your thighs, fingers lightly tapping your gradually pulsing clit.

And fuck were you jealous.

Your fav warned you about being in her bondage and restraint era, but the OC was going through it—manhandled and dealt with in a way that made your pussy throb until you couldn't take it anymore and slipped your fingers in to feed it.

Mewling, your fingers flexed inside you, feeling so warm inside your walls that ached so much you could feel a heartbeat when you dove in and out—moaning and working to sync with the story's vulgar pleasures.

But no matter how romantic the atmosphere was or how turned on and desperate for release you were, your dainty fingers, as cute as they were, were simply no match for the level of smut between those pages, and soon you found yourself drunk and pouting. Failing to properly reach those deliciously sweet spots inside you and leaving you unsatisfied and craving the only thing you knew could actually give you what you needed.

Your boyfriend.

And you knew if the day ever came when he did even a smidge of the things you'd seen in that book, you'd absolutely fall apart in his hands while blubbering ‘thank you’.

If only you weren't too chickenshit to just open your mouth and ask your angel of a boyfriend for it.

Suguru is such an, oh God—(insert animalistic noises)—you could eat that man for DAYS.

But truth be told, you weren't the usually overly confident bad bitch that made boys fall to their knees with Suguru. In fact, when you first saw him around, you were actually very intimidated.

Right off the bat, everything about him was different, way different.

His casual but cunty style screamed curated but careless when he walked around looking like he was fresh out of a Japanese street-style magazine. Often dressed in dark, baggy clothing that added to his mellow, mysterious aura—only to quietly flex on niggas by adding minimalistic but expensive layers of jewelry and accessories.

But what really made you weak the first time you saw them are the crown jewels that tie his look together—his piercings. The one in his eyebrow made it look sharper when he raised it, and whenever he tucked a strand of hair, you'd notice his cuff earrings fitting snugly on his cartilage that perfectly complimented his gauges. And—fuck—you could go on and on for days about how you constantly had to resist the urge to smash your lips onto his just to feel his snakebites.

You were doomed.

There he was, this tasty but nonchalant, cool guy. Reserved. Exclusive. And picky.

Never ever ever in a million years did you think you could bag a walking piece of art like that.

Don’t get it twisted; you are THEE shit and always the prize, but this time, it was less about looks and more about personality. And compared to Suguru? You were like a baby Powderpuff, sweet and bubbly, while he was a panther: sly, magnetic, and quick to ghost anyone who tried to get too close.

Hot and impossibly hard to get.

No wonder everyone wanted him.

Even without the competition, you were sure he probably had a thing for someone more his vibe, like big titty goth bitches, and you wouldn't blame him. Because sugar and spice just do not mix.

But fate had a funny way of humoring you, and one day you were unexpectedly thrown into each other's lives in a way that couldn't have been anything but the stars aligning.

The Panther and the Powderpuff.

Who knew you two would be a recipe for...perfection? And to your surprise, it was Suguru who latched on first, finding you simply addicting.

You were this vibrant, unapologetic good girl, sugary sweet and full of life, while he was this introverted yet magnetic loner, secretly craving someone to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Everyone else had been mere distractions, superficial, and a waste of his time.

But when the universe suddenly dropped you right into his lap, everything he thought he knew about loving someone changed.

The chemistry was undeniable and Suguru was selfish, wasting no time taking you off the market after only a few dates because the thought of you with anyone else made his stomach twist. But honestly, he had you hooked from, "Hello, my name is...", and ever since, you still find yourself unbelieving your luck—and the way he treats you.

From the unconditional princess treatment to every small or large sentiment you could wish for, Suguru does it all without hesitation. Knowing you deserve nothing less and leaving no room for anyone else to even try to compete. Often making you blush like a little schoolgirl who doesn't know what to do with herself because of his cool candor but loud love. Leaving you gagged and absolutely feral for him.

But it was simple for Suguru. He never questioned his instinct or need to have you. He just knew what he wanted, what he needed.

You.

You stir something deep in him, and he’s simply a slave to that insatiable urge to care for you in ways only he can.

Your sweet, raven-hair simp—always waiting and ready for you to pepper his blissful face with kisses every time you love on each other. Leaving you with no doubts that he’s yours and you’re his.

And he constantly reminds you that he can and will match your freak as his hands never seem to be able to stay off of you just as much as you think about sinking your claws into him.

You practically jumped at any opportunity to have your way and slut out that man in all his panty-dropping glory—when he lets you—but you firmly drew the line at vanilla.

In a perfect world, you could live freely as the truly unhinged and slutty succubus you were and let this man dictate your every waking moment, body, and soul however he pleased—just like many of the books you obsess over.

But you couldn’t risk scaring off your dream man with your Freak-a-leek fantasies.

You had to be quiet with it.

There was no way Suguru would be into that stuff.

Besides, it’s not like you were missing much.

Suguru and Satisfaction go hand-in-hand, and your oh-so-thoughtful boyfriend is damn-near dedicated to making sure you spend your nights repeatedly moaning his name. Whether it’s by slurping you up with his tongue just for a taste or slow-stroking your insides until you soak the sheets before fighting over who's sleeping in it. Naturally reading your body with ease and filling you to the brim with butterflies until you claw his back then milk him dry.

But every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder…what would happen if one day he just happened to tap into that subtle but smug big dick energy and took the reins?

Alas, you’d rather sneak away every blue moon and submerge in the depths of smut than confess. Settled and content with getting your fix when you could, but that night, you found yourself growing more frustrated the longer you tried.

No matter how hard you concretrated, no matter how detailed and lewd the images and sounds were in your head, you were hell-bent on shooting stars into your eyes with every trick you knew in the book yet failing to bring yourself rapture with such feeble fingers.

Eventually, with a final but not yet defeated groan, you decided to stop toying with yourself and return to Earth. Slightly disappointed but relishing in the fact that you always had access to the ultimate trump card, no matter how your smutty escapades went. You might not get to play 9 and ½ Weeks with your boyfriend, but he always guaranteed to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you and give you everything you need anytime you get all dolled up for him.

Your hand glided down your silky thighs, feeling smooth like butter as you caressed them, and you nodded. Mhmm, you were gonna get tore up tonight.

After finishing your bath, you dressed your body in your favorite lotion and serum combo before slipping into the silky lingerie Suguru randomly bought you a few weeks ago. He had been doing that more lately, coming home with all kinds of catered gifts and this one was by far one of your favorites and fit so perfectly. Now, all that was left to do was wait for him to get home and peel it off.

He’d been out most of the afternoon hanging with the guys while you did a few chores and stalked your mailbox. Suguru said it was supposed to be chill, but with the sun setting soon and knowing that Satoru was invited and without a doubt responsible for why Suguru was still not home, nine times out of ten, they ended up playing basketball.

Your boyfriend is already pretty active, but anytime Satoru comes around, he gets turned up times ten and things get real competitive, real fast. Almost always against Sugu’s will, but he’d rather entertain Toru to make him shut up and eat his words than back down. And like a good girlfriend who knows all of her boyfriend’s dumb little weaknesses, you were exactly right.

You missed the sound of his umbrella as he came through the front door, smoothing back his hair from the rain you didn’t hear while in the bath.

“I’m home, Love,” he calls out, and his gentle yet sultry voice paired with your pet name always makes you blush.

His natural scent was the first thing to hit your nose when he entered the bedroom, mingling with the wine steadily warming your body. Expecting you to nearly tackle him with a hug as you usually do after hours of being apart, he braced himself, but when he found you poised on the bed, relaxed and waiting for him, his mouth dropped, his heart once again racing even though he was sure he burned through his adrenaline playing basketball.

You looked downright delectable.

“Hi, baby,” you laughed, smiling at his expression as you crawled towards him. The silky fabric draped in soft folds over your body, shifting and riding up just enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin as you moved—clinging to your curves like a second skin. Everywhere he wanted his hands to be.

Imagining you in it when he picked it out was one thing, but seeing you in it, right in front of him, well fuck—you looked so perfect now, he’d probably die seeing it around your ankles later.

He drew a breath, unable to believe his luck or imagine a better view than the one of looking up at him with doe eyes while on your hands and knees. Just for him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the soft blend of rose and vanilla flooding his senses as you pulled your body close before realizing he was soaking wet.

“Ahh! Babe!” You jumped back. “You’re wet.” But his warm hands had already settled on your waist, firmly holding you in place. He smirked and stole a quick peck, and the familiar tease of his lips soon made you forget all about how cold and drenched he was as you melted into his touch, his lips making you more and more needy every time they met yours.

He smiled against your lips, noticing you were more excitable than usual as you deepened the kiss, your heartbeat thudding against his chest as you pressed closer.

“You’re going to *peck* ruin your lingerie, Pretty,” he teased. But you clearly didn’t care, and he softly chuckled, having to reel it in for the both of you as he gently pulled away. “Let me hop in the shower first, ya?”

But when he looked into your puppy-dog eyes as you knelt before him, the thought of walking away felt nearly impossible. You wore that little frown and plea in your eyes that silently begged him not to leave, and any other time, he’d give right in. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, sending warm tingles to your tummy and making it just a bit easier for both of you. With your patience recharged, you perked up and switched gears, asking about his day as he settled in.

He casually shrugged, saying everything was cool. Yu called him, Toru, and Kento over to try out the latest 2K game, and though Toru was always down to hang, he spent the entire time groaning because, surprise, surprise, he was awfully bad at it—no matter which version he played. After losing one too many 1v1s to Suguru and the others, he let his butt-hurt ego get the best of him and suggested they ditch the “baby game” and play some real basketball.

Suguru knew it was just a cop-out for Toru sucking, but he also knew Toru wouldn’t stop whining until he got a chance to redeem himself. At least the day was nice enough for Suguru to humor him—until their Opp, Toji, showed up trying to start shit and ruin a good time as per usual. Lucky for him, the rain came in out of nowhere and cleared everyone out just before the gang could pop off, and blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff.

Suguru sounds so lovely when he talks, but you were only half-listening, completely mesmerized as he pulled his sopping, wet shirt over his head and revealed his toned body and tats.

No one would ever guess that his chest and sides of his torso were inked unless he showed you. The intricate dragon tattoo weaved across his shoulders and down the full sleeve of his arms, but that was the only evidence that he’d taken a needle to his skin. It’s like a special little surprise reserved only for those he wants to see, and you never get tired of drooling over it—or him, watching him shyly smile as he noticed your gaze and gave you a playful wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sank into the bed with a pout but managed to distract yourself as he showered. Suguru loves a long, hot one, and he definitely took his sweet time that night. You figured he deserved it after such a hectic evening and told yourself that the wait to quell your fire was just a little bit longer.

But your impatience would cost you, as you failed to notice that in your haste to get ready for Pound Town, you’d forgotten to do something very important.

Suguru came out whistling, a cloud of steam pouring into the bedroom as he stepped through, a towel wrapped low on his hips. His long, slightly towel-dried hair clung to his face in cute, messy stands, and he shot you a soft, knowing smile as he crossed the room. You were so adorable, waiting on him like a pup, shamelessly following his every movement with your gaze.

He laughed, “You look comfy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you pouted. “You were in there forever.”

Suguru grinned, reaching for the towel draped around his neck. “Yeah? I guess I got a bit distracted.” He moved toward the dresser, lazily pulling it open. “Did you have a good day?”

Suppressing the urge to be frank, you nodded. If only he knew. “It was okay. Nothing special.”

“Oh, real?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re in such a good mood, though. Didn’t get into anything exciting?”

Just failed to get off to one of the smuttiest fics ever written.

“Nope,” you quickly replied, chewing on your bottom lip. As thoughtful as it was for Suguru to be a loving boyfriend and ask you about your day, you wished he’d chat less and fuck your brains out more. Fuck the clothes, fuck the pleasantries. And it was painfully obvious by the way his sharp, purple eyes took in your antsy body.

Pulling out some clothes, his lips curved into a smile. “You seem a little…eager tonight. Did my girl miss me?” But he didn’t really need to ask. He knew that you were practically in heat and only added flames to the fire by casually throwing on his favorite PJs that hung loosely around his v-section and slipping on a black wife-beater that hugged his torso(I know, that's a CRAZY name for an article of clothing).

Your pussy clenched—Yes God, YESYES STOP THE TORTURE!—silently screaming for him to just stop teasing and give you what you wanted before you exploded, but all you could manage was a whimper and frantic nod, knowing you were just seconds away from showing him exactly how much you did.

Suguru’s smile deepened watching you struggle, amusement dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards you. “How ‘bout we burn off some of that energy then, hmm?” His weight sank into the mattress as he crawled onto the bed, closing the space between you and softly pecking your lips with every word. “With. A. Game.”

But the way heat flared in your chest as you helplessly fell under his kiss, you didn’t know if you could handle whatever his mischievous little mind was thinking. Still, you felt your body betray you, naturally unable to resist him and growing curious—no, needing—to do just about anything he asked if it meant he would continue kissing butterflies into you.

With heavy-lidded eyes, you asked what game, growing breathy as you imagined every raunchy couple’s game you could think of. But your anticipation quickly turned to confusion when you felt him pull something from behind his back.

“Let’s read something new tonight,” he grinned. And you damn near went into cardiac arrest.

With your mind solely focused on getting your hands on your boyfriend, you had completely forgotten about your book, leaving it in the bathroom to be discovered by Suguru the moment he stepped inside.

And, oh baby, was it insightful.

You gaped, too stunned to speak as he pulled you toward the end of the bed. He settled on the bench and patted his lap, inviting you to sit, but you were frozen in place, absolutely mortified and refusing to believe this was real life.

You were caught, your mind filling with millions of thoughts all wondering how the hell your own carelessness after months of being “careful” ended up outing you, and it took him firmly calling you again before you finally found the courage to move, your brows furrowing as reality hit you.

Now your boyfriend definitely knew how much of a menace you were—one of those Godforsaken BOOKTOK GIRLIES, of all things—and should’ve been running for the hills.

But he only looked at you lovingly, gently guiding you into his lap and making sure you were comfortable before his arms settled around your waist. He cleared his throat and held the book in front of you. “I’ll start,” and he began where you left off—on one of the smuttiest scenes in the story.

“Taichi had seen what your mouth could do.” Oh no. “Never failing to command everyone’s attention before you cleared a room with just your words. Now, as his thumb softly traced over those same desirable lips that held so much power, his cock jumped at the idea of them wrapped around it.”

Holy shit.

Reading it was one thing, but being forced to hear from the last person you’d expect in the most naturally seductive voice imaginable was absolutely killing you in more ways than one. Especially when he was leaning right into your ear, his chin softly resting on your shoulder as if he were reading you a lullaby.

Heat flooded your face, but Suguru’s voice was steady and calm—completely unbothered as if he weren’t reading about your smuttiest innermost fantasies and making your embarrassment skyrocket. You felt so vulnerable and exposed and dirty and like you couldn’t get enough air and fuck—you didn’t know what Suguru was trying to prove or if this was his wicked way of trying to embarrass you before breaking up with you, but the torture was too much, and you had to get out of there.

Panicking, you tried to get up, but no-no—he wasn’t about to let you slip away from storytime that easily, and his arm snaked around your waist and secured you against him with a gentle but unyielding grip. His legs followed suit, quickly wrapping around yours and locking you in place, and you gasped in disbelief when your thighs effortlessly parted and exposed your pretty, clothed pussy.

Helpless whines escaped you, and he tsked, smiling at your sudden innocence. Like you couldn’t believe this was really happening. Like you couldn’t believe that the same filth you craved, obsessed, and dreamt over was now spilling from your boyfriend’s pretty mouth, sounding like a limited-edition audiobook Fanfic girlies could only dream of. And if you thought there was no possible way to make the situation worse than it already was, Suguru decided to take things up a notch and bring the book to life.

His lips lightly brushed your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin as he nuzzled your neck and inhaled your scent. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck, he stole a breath from your lungs when he nipped your ear. Perfectly mimicking the story’s peak and leaving you completely at his mercy as the lines between fantasy and reality blurred.

His hand around your waist trailed across your stomach with a deliberate slowness, traveling down until he grasped your inner thighs, knowing this was one of your most sensitive spots and drawing possessive lines that made your clit begin to tingle and swell through your panties.

Inching closer and closer, the sly smile in his voice grew, and your breath grew shallower until it hitched, sparks igniting when he ghosted over your clit. Your thighs trembled, but his voice remained smooth and unwavering.

Suguru noticed a twisted sense of satisfaction growing within as he felt you squirm, simultaneously struggling to close your legs even though you throbbed like crazy for more. You were caught between sheer embarrassment and undeniable arousal. Not knowing which to give in to.

He pressed his cheek to yours. “You’re so cute when you blush,” he murmured, becoming distracted by your reactions as he poured out endless praise—so flustered, so sickenly distraught and overwhelmed, but it only made him smile.

You always get so shy when he compliments you. His usually confident girl easily coming undone with only a few soft words and a glint in his eyes. And he loved it—the way you always tried to pretend you weren’t seconds away from completely unraveling when he flirted.

He hummed thoughtfully, wondering how long you could keep it up this time. And what it would take for you to fold.

“Finish up for me, pretty girl,” he decided, and handing you the book, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties and brushed your soaking folds.

You stiffened, the sudden warmth snatching your breath and making it impossible to get a single sentence or objection out.

“C’mon baby,” he kissed your shoulder, fingers stilling right on your clit. “You have such a pretty voice.”

The fucking Devil.

You let out a shaky moan, not knowing whether you hated or still loved him in that moment, but either way, you sure as hell weren’t going to let him see you crack, and you drew a breath.

Clearing your throat, you swallowed thicky and mustered up the steadiest voice you could to prove you wouldn’t just be a victim of this wicked game of his. And you were doing so well, for a sentence or two. Until his slick fingers started to call your bluff and gradually began to draw slow, precise circles right on your swollen bud.

And God help you, you couldn't stop the stutter.

“Sm-smeared mas-sc-scara ran hah down y-your f-face.” You paused and closed your eyes, wetting your lips before continuing. “You’d p-pay for your ah used and…and b-br-bruised t-throat in the morning bUT,” you yelped when he squeezed your waist. “It-it was a small price to p-pay to taste a c-cock sss-so d-delish.”

Suguru chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. But it wasn’t enough.

He needed to see you completely fall apart.

His free hand glided upward and fondled your breast, his thumb taunting and brushing over your nipple. You instinctively arched into his touch, a series of soft whimpers escaping your lips as he rolled them between his fingers until they were sensitive and hard.

Your body couldn't decide which overwhelming sensation to focus on—the weight of his fingers just sitting and taunting your clit or the jolts of pleasure running to your core with each pinch of your nipple. Both sent messy moans tumbling out of your mouth.

He grinned against your shoulder. “You’re so responsive tonight,” he said, adding to the heady mix of lust and frustration. Building you up and bringing you down in a vicious cycle as every time you crept closer and closer to losing it, he was quick to slow and remind you to keep going.

But your thighs kept quaking and your breath kept hitching and you could only squirm so much trying to rock into his touch and steal Heaven, but his fingers were light and easily kept you right on the edge. Touching only your clit and leaving you distraught as your poor, neglected walls began to ache.

But your desperation was too loud to ignore, and knowing you wouldn’t give up, he smirked—like boyfriend, like girlfriend—and he nipped your ear, pulling back the hood of your clit before he strummed his fingers over it. Fast. “Go for it,” Suguru whispered.

And fuck, it took all of 2 seconds for your legs to become a vibrating mess and made him wrap his tighter, your breath going light as you rose up on your toes.

Whimpering.

Heart racing.

Eyes drawing closed as you mentally sang his praises for allowing you to finally cum. Walking you to the line of release and rapture with every flick of your hot clit and every breath on your skin right up until he stopped.

You let out a defeated scoff.

You weren’t getting off that easy.

He pulled the long-forgotten book from your hands, and you yelped, suddenly being lifted and bent over his knee. He gave you a second to adjust, then secured you with an arm around your waist, rolling up the hem of your dress before his heavy palm settled on your ass, fingers languidly massaging your cheeks.

You felt so plush as he caressed your skin, gripping you lovingly between his fingers before he delivered a heavy slap.

“Why’d you keep this from me?”

A shriek died in your throat, a million things instantly flying through your head. Shock from this stranger you called a boyfriend, how you ended up here, how no one could’ve ever convinced you that this situation only found in books and on the internet would actually happen to you.

Endless things to think about but nothing to say.

“Oh, we’re being shy now?” Any other time, you would spend hours yapping Suguru’s ears off about one thing or another and he’d dote on every word. But now they were escaping you.

*SLAP!*

And he gripped your cheek to soothe the sting, fingers running over the raised marks the rings he never takes off left on your skin.

He hummed, eyeing the soaked patch on your panties, biting his lip seeing you’d gotten even wetter since he bent you over his knee.

His fingers couldn’t resist gently dragging over your clothed folds, just light enough that it felt like a ghost and made you shudder. You pushed back, trying to chase it, your mind borderline broken and desperate to quench your insatiable thirst, but found it impossible to move.

“Let’s try this again.” And he delivered a slap even harsher than the last, making you squirm under his tight grip.

Obviously, you hadn’t learned your lesson from earlier, and when you tried to get away, Suguru swiftly pinned your arms behind your back and didn’t skip a beat, landing another series of slaps on the same spot since you wanted to be so damn difficult.

You knew you couldn’t escape but neither would your words, silent screams building up as you just had to lie there and take it. Emotional turmoil churned within, leaving you questioning everything you thought you knew about Suguru who was promptly lighting your ass up. Bringing to life each hot sting that you’ve fantasized about in stories, on TV, and in the dirty thoughts of your boyfriend maybe one day warming up to the idea—but not like this. This was so sudden. Too much. So overwhelming to the point that nothing came out of you but feeble whines and stuttering breaths until you were on the verge of tears when “I’m sorry!” finally slipped from your defeated lips.

Suguru froze.

His heart thumped.

And in the span of a few seconds, Suguru learned a few things about himself.

1. He hadn’t expected himself to be able to break you so quickly. You’re as tough as he is, hell, even tougher sometimes, and only admit defeat when you absolutely cannot fight anymore.

2. He hadn’t expected to fall head over heels in love with the sound of your cries and heavy breaths as you tried to gather yourself.

Knowing he was the cause and this was the effect of you being worn out and surrendering made his dick thump against your stomach.

He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your flushed cheeks.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok,” he shushed, and you felt so pitiful yet turned on that you could cry. But as much as he wanted to relish in your punishment for keeping secrets, he also needed to reveal one of his own. “Because I’ve known for a while.”

“You wHAT?” Your voice cracked. If you could look him in the eyes, you would just so he could see how utterly flabbergasted you were because there was no freaking way. “How??”

“C’mon babe,” he snickered, “You watch DevilBoy Games, a lot, and Toru told me how you DBG girls are, I’ve seen you drool over that crazy guy with bags under his eyes.”

“He’s not crazy,” you huffed, “Just misunderstood.”

He laughed, lightly squeezing your thigh. “He kinda looks like me.”

“Get over yourself.” And you’d cross your arms if he weren’t still holding them.

He tsked. “Are you really surprised, love?” he asked, smirking before completely reading you, mentioning that there was no way you thought he wouldn’t notice the nights when you would stay up late, blushing at your phone.

Never once wondering if you were talking to some other guy or anyone else, but putting two and two together pretty early on when you said you were having reading time on your favorite social platform known for its…content. Scrolling the site for hours just to soak up pure filth.

As secretive as you tried to seem about it, the obsession never stopped you from being bold enough to do it in bed.

Suguru pouted. “So, you don’t like me enough or what?” he asked, his tone teasing yet laced with genuine curiosity. He often wondered why you didn’t just say anything—how you could be so close to him and dive into your fantasies but not act on them.

Your face instantly heated. “It’s not…it’s not like that at all!” you stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I just—it’s different, okay?”

He cocked his head. "Different how?"

“I don’t know I…–I honestly didn’t think you’d be into that stuff,” you admitted, feeling more vulnerable than ever and even a little guilty. You deflated. “I thought you’d think I was weird.”

"My baby? Weird?” He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "That can’t be it.” And he leaned close. “Or maybe you just thought I couldn't handle it," and his eyes gleamed.

Your stomach dropped, eyes going wide as you were once again left shocked and speechless. But Suguru let go of your arms, satisfied enough with your confession and ready to play now, for real.

Your pussy practically swallowed your drenched panties that clung to you as he pulled them to the side, the cool air kissing your folds before you felt his warm fingers swirl over your glistening vulva.

He smiled—you were so sensitive—bucking at the languid strokes as he gathered your slick. He’s always been gifted with his fingers and quick to make you fall apart from the slightest touch.

He bit his lip, unable to resist lightly dipping his fingertips in just to bring them to his mouth and give you a taste.

“So fucking good.” He could play with you forever. Licking his lips, he parted yours, transfixed on your walls that clenched around nothing. Desperate to take his fingers that teased desperate whines out of you.

“You gonna keep any more secrets from me, baby?”

You shook your head, desperate to do or say whatever, which Suguru knew, but he needed you to mean it.

He’d been edging you for almost half an hour now and his own dick was just as strained and blue-balled as your pussy, but he could and would hold out as long as he had to to make sure you’d never feel ashamed enough to hide any parts of you ever again. He just needed to hear the words, and he dipped just the tip of his finger inside you. “Say it.”

“I promise, Sugu, never again,” you pleaded, your voice shaking. "I’ll never keep anything from you again, just please, I—” you almost choked. "I need you so badly.”

The words spilled out you, sounding so pretty when you begged. And when he finally believed you, your mouth fell open, but nothing came out—a breath catching in your throat and eyes fluttering at that familiar stretch as he slowly pushed in. Walls finally sucking in the fingers they’d been so hungry for.

You could’ve came right then.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. You felt like home.

Your spongey walls squished and pulsed around him like a heartbeat, his fingers sinking in slow until you drew a sharp breath, your leg twitching.

Right there, he smiled, almost instantly finding that gushy spot of yours that makes you see white.

He whistled—this mouth-watering position not only gave him an immaculate view of your ass he wanted to sink his teeth into but also let his peace fingers perfectly angle and beckon your gspot.

His other hand slowly spread you wide, and he cooed, marveling at how easy he slid in and out, his fingers hooking with each dip as he took advantage of the easy access and sent sparks to your toes.

Your teeth tugged at your lip, brows drawing together. He was pushing so sinfully into you, his fingers flowing like waves with the full intent to draw your orgasm out of you as he’d done millions of times before. Always leaving you breathless, heady, and unbelieving how natural it was for him to bring you to absolute shambles.

His pace was agonizingly slow, plunging in and out with a deliberate rhythm that had you trembling and your lip sore from biting and stifling your pathetic moans. His dick painfully throbbed against your stomach, the heat of it branding your skin with each ragged breath you took trying to contain yourself.

After keeping you on the edge for so long without mercy, he was about to send you plummeting into the deep end, his own restraint slipping with every passing second as his pace gradually increased, your slick beginning to pool around his fingers when you felt your orgasm coming on.

Your muscles tightened around him as he pushed you towards your peak, the sound of his fingers fucking into you rivaling macaroni but had to battle your fat mouth spilling out moans like a starving slut.

“Ssh ssh ssh.” His hand slipped over your mouth. “I wanna hear her, she sounds so pretty.” And without restraint, the squelches of your pussy fucked the air, your drool slipping through his fingers and dripping down the side of your mouth. And just as you felt time slowing, he quickly swapped fingers, his middle and ring fingers angling down and furiously hitting that blinding spot that sent your eyes rolling.

Forgetting how to breathe, your cherry-O raced around the corner, aiming to crash right into you. Slowly, you began to arch your back into his hand, core tightening. And when you drew a deep breath, eyes screwing shut as you held it, his voice was deep and low to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, let it out.” And he racked his fingers until the pressure of your orgasm burst open.

"ohoHfuckfuCKFUCK SUGUSUGUSUGUOHMYGODIMCUMMING!" You clutched his calf and toppled over, your fluids spilling around his fingers and down your thighs, making a complete mess on his pants.

“Gooood girl, just like that,” he said almost desperately, biting down on his lip to stifle his own moans, but his fingers didn’t slow down, jiggling into you until you were writhing and begging for relief. He just had to make sure he got it all out, his silky fingers swimming deep into your sopping and noisy pussy until he wrung out all your shudders then slowed until your breaths somewhat returned to normal.

You came down, releasing your grip on him, your calves sore and aching from being on your toes.

Suguru smirked and licked his fingers clean, impressed by the sight of you lifelessly hanging over his legs: pathetic, spent, and cute.

After a moment of just holding you, he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your slightly reddened cheek before giving you an unexpected but quick lick of your pussy that made you twitch.

Yup, good and sensitive, just like he liked it.

Gently rubbing your back, he hummed. “Is my little slut satisfied?”

“Suguru!” Un uh—now he was calling you names?? You barely managed to open your eyes, still in a daze as you tried to look at him.

“What?” he shrugged. “Just making sure…the author said you wouldn’t be,” he cocked a brow with a playful smile. “...Right?”

…the godforsaken author’s note.

“For all my sluts who’d rather be fucked by fictional men than real ones.“

You ran your limp noodle of a hand over your face and groaned. Just when you thought the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, your fave author doubled back and helped you stumble into more trouble.

But Suguru wasn’t offended, not even a little bit. If anything, he looked amused, a slight smirk gracing his lips with a flicker of something else in his eyes.

He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this and bided his time. Now, every little secret and hidden desire you thought you’d keep forever buried in those books was out in the open and his for the taking—and he was ready to tear them apart.

“Suguru, I—”

“It’s ok,” he shushed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he tenderly cupped your face. But the hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you saw that sly grin spread across his face before he said, “We’ll see about that.”

Things were a bit…different..after that night.

It wasn’t something either of you discussed outright, but there was definitely a shift—an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air between you.

At first, it was like you were meeting for the first time all over again, and you slipped back into that shy, uncertain girl you were when Suguru first came into your life. Every knowing look he gave you, every slight touch, had you blushing, anticipating. As if you, once again, had no idea how to handle him—or how he would handle you.

He was slowly unveiling the quiet power you never knew or expected him to possess. And he was making sure you wouldn’t dismiss it again.

Now, it was you who hesitated before speaking, nervously fiddling with your fingers any time he asked you something even slightly suggestive before your eyes would dart away in embarrassment—not knowing that Suguru was absolutely loving this budding dynamic.

He would tease but never pushed too hard because he was patient. Always patient and watching with that soft, amused smile anytime you fumbled for words or tried to play off how flustered you were. Gradually coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend—the same one who always gave you a gentle look and treated you like you were more than precious—was more than willing to cater to and control you until you creamed and cried.

But honestly, not much had changed for Suguru. He still carried that same calm, subtle soft-dom energy that had always drawn you in—now there was just a label for it.

But there was a subtle shift in the way he handled you, like a quiet reminder that he knew you now—all of you. And he made one thing clear and made sure you understood it—closed mouths don’t get fed—and it was a lesson you had to learn quickly, especially after you promised not to keep any more secrets. And whenever you’d shy away or fall into your usual silence, Suguru would tilt your chin and hold your gaze with those piercing, violet eyes. “Use your words, Pretty,” he’d say, and your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you’d still push through because you knew he was right.

So you stayed true to your word and began looking for all the ways you could experiment and get what you wanted…in the only way a little gremlin like you could…by getting him riled up. And for a minute, he would just take it on the chin. But then he discovered breath play.

You were really getting on his nerves one day.

But you felt like you would actually die if he left you to hang with the boys when something in you was practically begging you to crawl into his skin. He was about to leave out wearing your favorite hoodie of his too, the one that's slightly cropped and hangs just above his midriff, and you sulked because you knew that any thirsty bitch in the vicinity would try to be on him like white on rice even when Suguru never paid them any mind.

Besides, he had already fucked you silly that morning and had been pampering you with kisses all afternoon, so he didn’t understand why you were being so clingy.

But you were craving something else. A bit of something to eat.

And instead of just telling him that you wanted his dick down your throat and past your tonsils, you decided to block the front door, cross-armed, scowling, and staring at the appetizing outline on his basketball shorts. Jealous that they got to hold his heavy balls all day instead of you.

His fingers snapped, “Babe,” the sound pulling you out of your silent tantrum and making you look at him with wanting eyes. “What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it, so you deepened your silent pout until he pinched his nose and sighed.

“Then move,” he started, stepping closer, but you shook your head and widened your stance like a toddler.

A smirk played on his lips as he loomed over you, taking in your pettiness before his hand thudded next to your head.

You jumped, but your defiance didn’t waver, your eyes lifting to meet his. His smug expression only deepened as he shifted, the heat of his coveted dick pressing against your thigh in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Move,” he repeated, but you just pressed your lips tighter, your eyes challenging him.

His other hand slid up, fingers gently curling around your neck and thumb brushing over your pulse. "We doing this again?" he asked, low and laced with threat.

What could you say? Old habits die hard.

But he knew what you wanted. The way you thickly swallowed and wet your lips, eyes darting to the growing tent between you, spoke volumes even when you wouldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, and before you knew it, your knees were hitting the ground, his hand settling on your head and making you slink to the floor. He tilted your chin. “Open that pretty mouth since you don’t want to use it.”

And at his gruff command, your tongue lolled out, unapologetically.

He tsked, tucking his lip under his teeth at your display.

You’re the most difficultly-easy person he knows next to Satoru, quick to make the simplest things complicated sometimes, and this time, he was going to give you exactly what you were asking for, but not without reprimand.

His thumb landed on your pink tongue, pressing and holding your gaze.

“You want it?” You caught a subtle thump, and he palmed his shorts. “Oi, up here” He held your jaw, cocking his brow.

His smirk was devilish, a knowing glint in his eye watching you grow needier by the second—unable to focus on anything but the desperate need for him to turn your throat into a daycare.

Tongue trapped under his thumb, you finally answered him in the only way you knew how, and he watched with parted lips as yours closed around his finger with an eager nod.

You were going to be the death of him.

With a tug of his shorts, your fat reward sprang forth, almost brushing the tip of your nose—already leaking stringy globs of precum for giving him such a hard time.

Your eyes sparkled. Suguru has such a pretty dick. One of the prettiest you’ve ever seen that’s girthy, long, and perfectly made for your greedy throat.

It was heavy on your tongue as he tapped it, teasing your palate and holding it out for you to give it a taste.

Less was said, and you gladly accepted your meal, the taste of him coating your tongue as you swirled around the tip before sucking it into your mouth.

Suguru’s knees almost buckled as you lapped at him like ice cream, your tongue tracing up and down his shaft before placing gentle kisses under his tip. His face went warm, his fingers threading through your hair as he fought to maintain control. “Don’t—ngh—tease. Suck it—mmph—properly.” And with a firm press to your bottom lip, he coaxed your mouth open before pushing in and filling it completely.

You gagged, and a deep exhale left his lips feeling your warm mouth finally wrap around him, your eyes watering as the weight of his dick fully seated on your tongue and made your lips stretch to savor every inch.

“That’s it—mphm—take it all.”

His hips automatically moved at the feel of your throat, his head softly falling back feeling you relax and hum around him. He couldn’t help but gently thrust, his spongy tip kissing the back of your throat and making you blink back tears as he tested your limits. And you only made it harder for him to hold back with the way you ate him up like candy.

Even though head is a game, you never play. All day, you’d been torturing yourself, once again denying yourself of your insistent need to swallow his kids in the name of shame, but once the reins were off, you wasted no time satisfying your craving—knowing exactly how to get Suguru to blow his load.

And fuck was it a losing battle for him to try to keep the tendrils of his orgasm at bay while also trying to remember that he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

As he said, closed mouths don’t get fed, and he started pulling away with a satisfying ‘pop’ every time you got too greedy. Rubbing his dick over your lips with a grin before snaking back in and taking you further and further down each time.

He groaned watching you take him, your eyes meeting as you looked up. The new cut in his brow made them look even sexier when he bunched them, complementing the low and husky look in his eyes you’d never seen before you sent them rolling when he wrapped your hair around his fist and pushed in to the base.

“Hah.” His breath hitched as you swallowed. Once. Twice. Holding you down a sec before he pulled out with an exhale. And as he watched your heavy breaths, struggling to collect yourself but looking up at him with a starry-eyed but fucked out gaze, he got an idea.

“Why do you act so innocent all the time?” he huffed, pushing back in. “Look at you,” his thumb stretched your lips, “Choking on my dick and loving it.” Always the innocent ones, he thinks, full of frills and freaks.

And you couldn’t deny how the slow and lewd way he fucked your throat made your pussy drip like a waterfall, uring you to rub fast circles across your throbbing clit, but he knew you would try.

You were a cock-drunk slut, after all, always getting off when he stretched, used, and abused your throat to his satisfaction, so he knew he would have to lock your hands away to keep your mouth open and you focused since you wanted to taste him so badly.

Still fucking your throat, he said, “Take a breath, baby,” and soon after, you gagged when he leaned over you. “Hold it,” and he pulled the string from his hoodie and began counting. “One, two, three.” Bringing a flood of tears to your fluttering eyes as he sank deep into your throat and tied your wrists behind your back.

Air. God, what is air?? Your lungs screamed for it, stomach tight, but your pussy clenched so sinfully tight from the lack of it.

You didn’t know it then, but this was an accidental deep dive into something you’d both come to love. The control, the discipline, the trust. The skill you had to possess as a certified throat goat. And most of all, the uncertainty of never knowing when he was going to allow your next breath. Every time counting down until you were squirming for air before pulling out with an exhale as if he were breathing with you.

He ogled at the messy evidence of effort plastered on your face, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his pink tip. His dick twitched at your huffs and tear-streaked face and he rubbed your puffy lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” and the words went straight to your swollen clit before he continued playing with you.

He loved how your throat closed around his dick when you swallowed, like you were trying to milk him for every drop. Sucking, blowing, and swallowing til your throat knew every vein and his orgasm was coming and coming fast. His stuttering hips and tightening grip on your hair were enough evidence if the low moans competing with the sloshes of your throat weren’t.

Heat pooled in his stomach, brows furrowing as he locked eyes with a borderline whiny look. He licked his lips. “Ready for me to cum for you, baby?” he asked in that breathy voice he always does before he unravels. And your dick-drunk nod, knowing you were about to earn your meal, was all he needed to cup your jaw, making sure you looked him right in the eye as the coil in him snapped.

“Fuck, hah, I’m cumming,” and he groaned, biting his pierced lips and slipping all the way to the base til your nose brushed his tufts of hair and he filled your throat.

Ropes of cum poured out of him, and he went dizzy, his mouth falling open with shaky moans watching your spaced and gone face as he came down your throat. Your wrists strained against the tie as your throat constricted, but you swallowed his throbbing cock with ease like it was the only sustenance you needed. Pumping you full until he was a soft and empty gummy worm in your mouth.

He shuddered and collected his breaths, slowly pulling from your lips with a sigh. You hummed and licked them—most of your lunch had gone to your stomach, but remnants remained on your tongue, warm and delicious.

"ThAnk," you cleared your throat. "Thank you," you huffed, throat raw and voice cracking, but he just shook his head and smiled. You were above asking for what you wanted but never forgot to be grateful when you got it.

He swiped your chin with his thumb. "You're a brat," and you beamed, lifting your chin. Because he didn't know how right he was.

And while that was just the beginning of your exploration of power dynamics, it quickly became a very slippery slope. Because while you might've thought you were the expert in all things whips and chains and excitement, Suguru had been quietly doing some research and taking hellah notes. And taking one directly from you, he soon began to make a few secret purchases of his own.

Suguru has his hobbies.

He likes to read, play sports to stay fit, and enjoys spending time in nature when he can. Outside of that, he’s pretty simple.

But there’s a little-known fun fact about your beau—he’s a secret artiste.

It’s rare that he’ll break out his paints and easel, but once every blue moon when his inner Picasso strikes, he’ll sit for hours, brush to canvas until it all pours out of him.

You always find yourself in a trance watching him in that element—his quiet intensity as he gets lost in space and creates galaxies. But even though Suguru isn't loud about his talent, he’s actually very creative and always looking for different ways to release and create. Never shying awaying from trying new things and always looking for new mediums. And canvases.

You slightly winced, then moaned.

Wax is hot in more ways than one, and it’s just perfect for when Suguru wants to creatively get his hands on you.

He loves creating delicate patterns on your back, savoring every moment and watching your face twist between pain and ecstasy as he skillfully lets the wax drip. Never too much at once, the hot lines spill and cool across his favorite canvas—your skin. There's a world of difference between paper stretched across wood, and the softness beneath his hands, and your skin is far lovelier, simply irresistible.

His hair brushed your skin as he leaned down, his lips tracing down your back and between the patterns. So soft against his lips. All of you, from your neck to your chest to your tummy, softly mold under his fingers like clay when he worships you like art, and sometimes he’ll drip hot lines down your inner thighs and plush cheeks just so he can melt his lips between them—feeling so lucky to have the privilege to feast on a masterpiece.

Your own little van Gogh, drowning his nose in your folds and bringing curses to your lips.

You knew Suguru was a modern-day Michelangelo with a paintbrush, but now your once shy and reserved man was having too much fun exploring all the unconventional ways he could create art—and slowly crossing over into a world of kinky debauchery.

And at the end of every session, he never forgets to take a Polaroid picture to show you and keep for himself. A little testament to his sentiments and sensuality. It wasn’t all just about whips and chains after all.

You also needed—

Buzz!

Your eyes screw shut and you tense but can’t move because of the

—rope.

“Hey,” Suguru snaps. “I said keep your eyes on me,” and you shot daggers at him because how the hell could you when you’ve been overstimulated for hours and have already cum, twice?

Eyes softening, you whimper, but your heart sinks when he just rolls his eyes.

Fuck.

You really did it this time.

Your boyfriend has a lot of patience, a thin line for everyone else but a lot for you. But God, do you know how to fucking tap dance on it sometimes.

“Did you think you were cute?” his face screwed. “Dancing in sections and on bars. Guys?” The vibrations increase, and you double over whining.

In all fairness, you did beg him to come out with you and your girls earlier, but your boo has been working on a big project lately and was understandably beyond tired. Still, you complained, eventually giving up and still going out without him, but you didn't expect a play-by-play of your night and mini rebellion to end up all over your equally drunk friend’s Snapchat—or for Suguru to see it.

You picked a hell of a time to act out too, because, after weeks of secretly practicing his newest obsession, Suguru had finally perfected it: the harness prayer tie, and watching your wrists struggle against his work was the most satisfying confirmation of his skill he could’ve asked for.

The skill and intricacy of restraint and rope play was the perfect balance between tapping into his creative side and reeling you in when you got out of hand—now proving very useful after you had fully pissed him off.

Leaning down, he grips your face. “You wanna act like a slut so badly, I’m gonna treat you one.”

But he didn’t just give you the dick you’d been acting out over right away though—he hardly thought you deserved it.

Instead, a vibrator has been nuzzling your clit for hours after he woke you up the following morning and went to work with his tie—your blubbering whines falling on deaf ears as he overstimulated you until you felt ruined and raw.

Sniffling, you plead, “I’m sorry, Sugu.”

“You’re always sorry,” he bites back, his hand wrapping under your jaw. “And so fucking greedy, you know that? I bet you still want me to fuck you stupid like the cock-thirsty slut you are even though you’ve been begging me for a break.” And your stomach pangs, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the rawness because he was more than right.

“You want attention so bad, you want me to fuck you so bad,” he pulls your hair, making you look straight at him. “Then beg,” and the serious way he looks at you makes you actually start to feel bad for upsetting him so much.

Swallowing your pride, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Please,” you whimper, “I’ll do anything just please…please fuck me.”

And the words had barely left your lips when fear shot through you, his eyes darkening as you quickly realized that you should’ve been more careful with what you wished for.

Without warning, he placed you on the bed and flipped you over. Gripping your hips, he hastily pushed you down into a grade-A arch and tucked his tee between his teeth, springing his cock free before knocking a breath out of you with one swift thrust.

You both gasp, every muscle tensing as your Earths shatter.

Suguru nearly collapses. Your tight pussy that's been dripping and yearning for hours is easy to slide into yet struggles to accommodate his fat girth, but that doesn't stop him from reeling his hips back and pushing in even deeper.

You nearly draw blood from your lip as he begins to thrust with a pent-up intensity that's been building since last night, nearly blue-balling himself to take care of you in your drunken state and fighting the urge to say fuck it and punish you right then and there.

But now that you were good and sober and overly sensitive, he could finally ruin your dick-starved pussy and fuck you blind.

His hold on you tightens, his knuckles turning white as he fucks into you with a primal urgency. Not caring if you can take it or not because he needs his dick burned into your brain in a way you wouldn’t forget. Besides, who could possibly hold back when you feel so fucking good wrapped around him? Mind-numbing in a way he can never get enough and desperately needs more, and he grips the divots of your waist and pulls you closer, making struggled whines fall from your mouth as he makes you simply take it.

The nerves of your pussy are on fire as every inch of him stretches and hastily fills you, the persistent vibrator on your clit still buzzing and sending you spiraling.

The way he's manhandling you, the soreness in your wrists, and the relentless rhythm of his hips all blend into a rush more intoxicating than anything you had last night until you're overwhelmed and bucking to get away.

“Uh-uh, don’t run.” And his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up and back against him, two fingers hooking in your mouth and making you arch so deliciously that every kiss of your cervix sends spasms through your walls and coaxes his cock for everything he’s got.

"You feel that?" he snaps. "I fucking bet you do." And your breath grows lighter and lighter until your head goes dizzy, your body turning to Jell-O and slowly melting into the bed, but he follows you down and deepens his stroke. You lose your arch, but with one quick thrust, your nails are digging into your palms. He slaps your ass, punishment for making him mess up his rhythm, before hiking you back up and resuming the brutal pace.

Your mind goes blank and his hair falls from its neat bun, sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead from how hard he's fucking you and leaving you caught between begging for mercy and craving more of this delicious torture.

"Look at you," he growls, "Fuckin' brat—ngh—this is what you wanted, right?" And you can barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak, your reply coming out as garbled moans, but Suguru is having none of it, his hand sliding from your neck to your hair and pulling your head back. You cry out, the sound muffled by his fingers still hooked in your mouth as he bottoms out inside you. "I asked you a question," and the room fills with obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and fumbling 'yeses' from your mouth as he bullies your cervix.

"Fuck hah," his brows furrow, "you drive me crazy, you know that?" he says, voice strained. "You wanted attention?" he breathes, "Well, now you've got it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it." and each word is punctuated by his leaky tip, making your overstimulated pussy clench and draw a sharp hiss from his lips.

"That's it, baby," his rhythm slightly falters. "Squeeze my cock. Show me how sorry you are." And his hand slips from your lips and snakes around your front, pressing the vibrator even harder against you until the delicious stretch of his cock and the merciless buzzing becomes too much to bear.

Your vision blurs, your thighs quaking and trying to draw together, but there's no escape.

"You right there?" He pushes through the familiar clench of your walls. "Then cum for me," Suguru commands, and the words are the final push you need for your orgasm to rip through you like lightning—your body involuntarily arching as waves of hot, white pleasure crash over you.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you helplessly choke out, walls spazzing and gripping Suguru's cock like shackles, pulsating around him until it forces his own to come chasing after yours.

He struggles for breaths, "Where do you want it, baby?" But it was just a formality, a silly question really, because there was no way he could pull out of your vice-grip. He just needed to know you wanted it as badly as he wanted to fill you up.

"Inside, please, inside me, please," you stammer, still reeling from your own orgasm before he sends you into another, pulling you taunt by the rope and flushing you against his waist.

"Take it," and his moan is low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hips and locking you in as his body tenses, his hot seed flooding and filling you to the brim.

Your eyes meet the top of your head as you cum again in tandem, bliss rippling through your bodies.

"Fuck, c'mere." His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, plunging his pulsing cock deep into you one more time as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, pumping out the last of his seed until you're both panting and trembling and he feels his cum oozing out of you.

Slowly, Suguru releases his grip on your hair, deeply exhaling as he gently lowers the both of you to the bed, his softening cock still nestled inside you. You whimper at the still buzzing vibrator, and he finally switches it off, tossing it aside.

He presses soft, soothing kisses to your shoulder. "You did so well, baby," and he carefully unties the rope, his touch tender and apologetic as he massages the faint marks and kisses your wrists.

Out of everything you do together, inside and out of your newfound dynamic, this is his favorite part of all: putting you back together after breaking you into pieces.

His unwavering desire to care for you never changes, even when you do the absolute most just to get his attention and show him that you're just as obsessed with him as he is with you—your private but unmistakably commanding Panther and his secretly kinky Powderpuff princess who was now hanging on to life by a thread.

He softly laughs, slinging your limp arms around his neck and pulling you lovingly into his chest as you breathe. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your rib, his lips peppering your head with kisses as he sighed, feeling your heartbeat slowly sync with his.

But after a few moments in each other's arms, a curiosity that's been living rent-free in Suguru's head for quite some time now rears its ugly head—and he just has to know the answer.

"Sooo," he drawls, "... Taichi or me?" And you almost snort, a smile tugging at your lips as you nuzzle his chest. You look up at him with a playful gaze only to find him deadass—figuring that after a day like today, there would be no better time to officially find out if he's finally settled the score with your anime husband.

Your eyes smile, and you reach up with the little strength you have to gently stroke his face and softly kiss his jaw.

You contently sigh. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, babe.”

extended angel's note: oh god what can i say...

i can confidently say that this took me the entire month of september to write and it's definitely the hardest pieces i've worked on so far god bLESS

y'all have no idea how much word count RESTRAINT i had to use just to keep this reasonable (i do have a slightly extended version just for myself tho 🤭)

this was supposed to drop on my bday (unironically the day JJK ended) but life is life 🤠

anywho, thanks for reading 12k words of pure unadultered, unhinged smut. i hope it was worth it 🫶🏿

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