#idk why I didn’t think of using them like this to practice sooner

[yestrday]

Idk if it’s just because I’m TREMENDOUSLY down bad for the malewives, but whenever I read a segment about them getting jealous I kinda just want to be really gentle, reassuring, and over all sweet to them (picture just cupping their face and giving them cute little pecks while you calm them down <333)

The boys don’t like that some other girls perfume is on me and are wondering why it was on there in the first place? I completely understand their concerns. One of my friends had gone to me crying for advice on a fight she had with her girlfriend, and I just had to soothe her + give her some relationship advice and gush to her about my lovely husband afterwards!

They are worried I’m becoming more distant due to my work? The boys think that I’m not being affectionate enough? I can’t believe I’ve done such a horrible thing without noticing! I’ll call in a sick day at once and plan a cozy date just for two of us to relax and cuddle and I’ll talk to them about ways I could show them even more affection and ask them what they prefer!

My dearest husband thinks I’m working too long and that he thinks I’m forgetting about him for someone at work? I’m horrified I didn’t see how he felt sooner! I’ll immediately talk about slightly cutting back my long hours, and I’ll even get up early before work to leave him little sticky notes that confess my love for him! I’ll text him on my short breaks and I’ll call on my lunch break too!

I’m just such a massive simp I can’t help but want to be “gentle and caringly earnest spouse” who would 100% gush about them to all my friend and co-workers <33 (This is just a brain rot / rant! Def not a request lol)

ah <3<;3 they are your husband after all! your ever devoted, ever loving, ever faithful husband! it's common sense that you have to treat them with the same praise and fervor that they do to you!

venti's pouting about how you're working overtime? he's laying back dramatically on the couch, whining with practiced dramatic effect about how cruel you are for leaving your poor hubby with no one to share these cold nights. you watch him with crossed arms and an amused smile, knowing exactly what game he's playing at. yet you still come to him and hug him from behind, peppering his squishy cheeks with kisses and soft apologies. venti giggles at you, and grins widely when your touches go lower.

thoma doesn't look right these days, with how you keep drinking out with your clients. you always go home buzzed and reeking of other people, and although he tries to hide it, your dining utensils have been slightly bent, haven't they? when he comes home from a grocery trip, you surprise him with dinner, dressed in his frilly apron. the dullness in his eyes washes away, and with a pleasant gasp he rushes into your arms and start sniffling about how much he misses you.

the servants have been telling you that xingqiu's been in a snappy mood ever since you left for your business trip. when you open the door to his study, you can see the briefest surprise flit across his face before he adopts a mask of indifference. ah, so he's going to ignore you, huh? well, no matter. you sidle up to him and say your apologies, whispering about how you've missed him terribly so. that you couldn't eat properly knowing you left your dear husband alone. he's still refusing to acknowledge you, huffing behind his book, but you can see his eyes crinkle into a smile.

anyway! what's the point of marriage if you two won't devote yourselves to each other? nothing else matters, does it? why should work stop you from showering your sweet husband from the love that he so deserves?

[demonir]

Thinking about this dream I had yesterday that had some strange moments, not because “oh dream logic” but because it kinda broke the rules of how my dreams normally go and once I woke up I kept thinking about it for half the day

Content warning for house invasion… it doesn’t actually happen but I’m gonna mention it given that it’s a recurring nightmare I have.

Also engineer tf2 was in there for some reason he’s like the tutorial npc that traps you inside the scenario but the dream is not mostly about him

Normally there’s hardly any “scene cuts” or “fade ins/outs” between different dreams, they all sorta blend in with each other which will have me like idk… sitting in my living room talking to someone but then 2 minutes later I am outside in the middle of a forest chasing frogs, you get that?

Anyways this started as what I’ll call a “dream transition” I was inside my home in my old teenage room although the furniture was arranged weirdly but that’s not the point, I was with someone (with a very vague appearance but I somehow identified as fem) and we talked and stuff happened (the details of that stay with me bc it’s embarrassing) at some point we are dealing with robot babies, robot cats, and robot dogs? They ran all around the place and cried because they wanted food and attention, I pick up what I think was a robot baby by the arms as I turn around to look to the person who I was talking to prior and I go “I’m tired of these” because in the dream it felt like we had been dealing with them for a long long time

The person in front of me by that moment had turned from a very vague feminine figure to motherfucking engineer tf2, and he looked at me and smiled before saying something like “they are a handful…” I don’t think those were the exact words but I remember that whatever he said implied that it was hard for us to take care of these little guys when we had full time jobs and lives to deal with… now mind you that I am unemployed lol. I somehow subconsciously knew this and that we were also in a relationship? And had been for a while?

A person I’m talking to in a dream turning into someone else suddenly isn’t new and in the moment I never rationalize it so that wasn’t the first weird occurrence… the actual weird thing was when “I” (that is to say dream me) dropped the baby thing before approaching engineer, placing my hands on his shoulders and saying “I think I’m ready for the real thing” then suddenly as if it was an info update my dream lore lets me know that the reason we were dealing with this was because we were practicing being parents with robots? Now I cannot stress this enough but I would NEVER in a MILLION FUCKING YEARS agree to getting pregnant, I don’t want children… maybe I could change my mind if I reach stability in my life but it certainly would be through adoption only but well the point is that this is VERY uncharacteristic of me, it wouldn’t be the first time that dream me does something I would never do so this doesn’t really rise any red flags for me and the dream continues

Next thing engineer does is take out a little remote from his pocket and press a button that suddenly makes all the robots around us explode into a million pieces and then he smiles at me and goes “why didn’t you say so sooner darling?” Which was honestly the most hilarious part of the entire dream and it would make for a funny fanfic scenario

Anyways the next part is blurry and I don’t remember what we say to each other, something about “what are we going to do with all this junk?” Before engineer looks at me with a smirk and goes “junk? That’s why I built this cabin! To put all the junk inside” and just like that in that moment we stopped being inside my room and we were now outside a small wooden cabin by the beach, no fence around us or other cabins/houses to be seen nearby as he opened the front door and let me inside.

Now believe me when I say the cabin was SMALL, small enough that having just the two of us inside felt like a crowd… now let me try to shittily describe how it looked like. When you open the front door you’re immediately met with the mix of dining room/kitchen, the “dining room” being a very small square light colored wooden table against the right wall with two small matching wooden foldable chairs, one of the chairs was folded out while the other was folded and put against a small crevice between the table and the wall to the right of it (facing the front door so you couldn’t see it until you walked in) On top of the table but more towards the right corner was a very small square tv hanging from the wall, it was a very retro looking chunky black tv, it was situated so that you could watch it while sitting at the table or standing in the kitchen and somehow I was filled with memories of doing just that countless of times.

Looking past the table straight ahead there’s a small counter that separates the “dining room” from the actual kitchen, it’s made out of different colored wood with light blue accents and behind it were stools so that you could sit there and eat. Even though it’s the first time I saw this place in a dream I somehow knew that fact. Behind that was the actual kitchen with its counter, it’s oven, it’s fridge, it’s hanging cabinets on top and some cooking utensils around… it was all quite retro but cozy, lots of light blue and cyan. To the left of the kitchen was the door to the backyard, this will be important later

To the left of me and all of this I just described is an open space that we could call a corridor… just the empty space left for one to comfortably walk from one side to the other and on that other side were two doors. The door closest to me led to a small living room area that had some hand made wooden couches with I think green pillows and cushions on them? It was a gray-ish green color but it could have also been more blue to match the rest of the house, at the center was a small wooden coffee table and the walls had really big windows that let all the sunlight in with of course it’s big curtains to cover them (they were long and big, blue with wide yellow stripes that had thinner white and black stripes on each side… or at least I think that’s what they looked like bc irl my mom has similar curtains somewhere)

The remaining door led to what I knew to be me and engineer’s room although I didn’t get to really walk inside, I could only see the outline of our big bed from outside since it was pitch black inside for some reason…

Anyways why am I describing all of this in detail? 1: because I want to be able to come back to this and remember it and 2: because this is VERY ODD for me! Whenever I have a dream inside some place it’s somewhere I know, my house, my middle school, a supermarket however despite that the places themselves are never really…detailed if that makes sense, I see them and remember them as vague blurry paintings with no discerning features or details so this dream I’m telling you right now is a big BIG outlier because as I was in it I could see the details around me, the indents on the table and the texture of the wood and even after I woke up I could remember it clearly. Also I think it’s worth to mention that engineer said this place was “for junk” but the cabin was… very clean and well kept? And somehow in the dream logic I knew we had both been living there together for a while?

Anyways continuing the dream, engie walks me inside and intends for the two of us to sit at the small table to talk about well… starting a family, as we walk inside the sun outside starts to set and this activates an immediate response on me of “oh, gotta take care of things!” So I guess I tell engie to wait for a moment as I go around the cabin dimming the lights and closing the curtains, I walk around like I had been living there forever and I close curtains and windows with the practice of someone who’s done this a hundred times, I can see engie in the corner of my eye in the dining room as I continue on. I remember closing the big ass curtains in the living room and thinking “gotta close the curtains! I don’t want some creep to be able to look inside and watch us!” This is… a very weird thing to say and think but it’s a fear my mom has ingrained in my brain since childhood so it’s whatever, I guess this also plays into what happens later.

As I leave the living room and lock the door behind me I walk down to the backyard door in the kitchen and suddenly somehow I know that I am alone in this place now… alone in reality entirely, I have some dreams that I call “single player mode” where it’s just me in there and nothing else, no animals no humans no sentient beings no NOTHING but my surroundings… and I am at peace with this fact. As the dream shifts to single player mode I am not disturbed in the slightest and continue my task, the backyard door was wide open and I was about to close it when I think “oh I should check the outside bathroom!” Yknow those stereotypical wooden rectangles with a toilet inside? I don’t remember the name for those so I’ll just call it outside bathroom, I walk out into the backyard to check it and find that the door is wide open and I’m like “tsk tsk this is no way to leave things!” The structure itself is very much falling apart, the wood is rotting and the thing is leaning to the side as it sinks into the beach sand under it but this doesn’t seem to bother me at all as I close the door, then on the floor next to it I see a small shitty wooden chest that looked like a videogame wooden chest so I’m like oh! Treasure! And I go to pick up and open it to find about 4 smaller wooden boxes inside that I somehow instinctively knew had coins inside? And at the bottom of the chest there were the words “come back in five minutes” carved into it. I took the small boxes and began to walk back to the cabin but midway in I think “what if I get myself hit with some sort of ancient curse? I’m not risking it” so I walk back decided to return the coin boxes to the chest

As I reach the bathroom again a person appears in front of me from behind a wooden structure a little behind the bathroom and to the right, it was two walls that ended in a corner with a wooden floor and there was a table against one of the walls as well as a little grill… obviously a spot for a barbecue, by this moment I also notice that there were long wooden poles stabbed into the sand connected by rope for us to hang our laundry to dry, the colors of the clothes hung on it decorated the place and made it seem like a party.

Now this very obviously startles the FUCK out of me for a moment because I was entirely convinced that up to that point I was in “single player mode” and suddenly there is a man (a very detailed and realistic one at that) approaching me (this counts like the second or third incredibly weird occurrence in my dream)

Anyways this man approaches me and he is just as detailed as the environment around me, he’s taller than me, white and very pale at that, shaved head and some messy stubble, a small golden hoop for an earring on his left ear, wore a big baggy white t shirt with what I think was some metal band logo on it? Yknow the ones that look like scribbles? He also was wearing some mega baggy bell bottom pants with some patches in them and I think some white converse shoes. He had real jesse pinkman meets eminem vibes to him (he might have been wearing a black hoodie on top of the t shirt as well? At some angles he seemed to have black sleeves and a hood hanging on his back)

This man looks at me and asks me in a very suspicious and anxious manner if I can give him 500 pesos to go buy something at the store and he explains that the thing technically costs more than that but he just needs that amount from me because he’s?? Gonna do “something”? Gonna tell the employees “something”? He is very vague about what he’s gonna do and his body language is shaky and strange, this immediately makes me think “oh this guy is gonna do some money laundering shit if I give him my money and then they’re gonna trace it back to me and then IM gonna be arrested!” (Funnily enough my mind didn’t think about drugs even one time) so I take a moment to try and calm my nerves and I reply to him in the most polite way I can saying that I can’t give him the money because I simply do not have it (this might contradict the “I had a full time job” statement previously but at the moment in my dream I was thinking of my irl situation where I do not have that money or a job) the man insists one more time before I tell him I’m sorry that I can’t help and he seems to take the answer although he grumbles and mumbles some inaudible stuff as he walks past me and away.

I now feel a sense of dread and unease, I feel as if I’m in danger so I walk back to the cabin and close the backyard door behind me and begin to lock it as I mentally thank engineer for including locking mechanisms on all the cabin doors. This marks weird occurrence number 4/5? Because in most of my dreams doors tend to be unreliable fucks that never close properly and have no locks to them which makes my nightmares absolutely horrible as whatever is trying to harm me cannot be stopped so me being able to properly close this door and lock it (although with a rudimentary lock mechanism) felt honestly amazing. I proceed to run to the front door and lock that one too before I turn off all the lights in the cabin and I am suddenly in the darkness with the only light being the remaining rays of sun from the outside and suddenly before I know it that same guy from before is standing behind my backyard door loudly sobbing and crying as he is I think rattling the doorknob or hitting the door with his fist, I know it’s him because the only window without curtains IS the door itself so I can see his head and he can see inside so I fearfully duck and crawl on the floor so that he doesn’t see me.

Last thing I remember before I woke up was thinking that I should crawl to my bedroom and lock the door behind me for safety

And that’s it! This might not seem weird to anyone else but me and that’s ok, I’m just honesty baffled and mildly intrigued by this dream and I wish I could understand the meaning behind it… if there even is any. I might draw what the cabin looked like if I find the strength in me to grab a pen

[raeathnos]

Sketchy dump!

Trying to get better at drawing humans/humanoid creatures by sketching shippy art of my two ocs. Bonus- updated ref sheet wips :P

This is Sky-Shifter (left, bottom) and Night-Stalker (right, top) two of the main characters from the webcomic I want to eventually do. They’re both half-demons, hence the human and feral forms.

Humanoid forms above, feral below.

I’m a messy sketcher, I’m sorry guys Dx

[sirenmoth]

His Flannel

Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gareth just loves the way you look in his cut off flannel, maybe a little too much

CW: slight praise and degrading, oral (fem receiving), minor overstimulation, couch stuff that’s it,porn with little plot, gareth has quite strong that is my new headcanon

written on phone cuz my wifi is shitty rn and ik this is probably bad but idk, also not proof read

Weekends were reserved for you and Gareth, if there wasn’t band practice is any other chores that required your attention it was spent going on small dates around Hawkins or chilling at either ones of your houses. Today you both decided to stay at Gareth’s house since his parents and younger siblings weren’t home, mindlessly watching some random kind of bad tv show that was airing, resting your back against his chest with his arms around your waist.

Left around 5 minutes ago and in that time you thought it was a good idea to try on his cut off flannel, thinking it would only take a minute but what you didn’t expect was for it to be really, really soft. Making yourself comfortable on the couch you hear his voice from across the room.

“Looking good, sugar”

As he makes his way over to you, drinking in your figure, and you, you wearing his flannel, getiing between your legs and comfortable “God, why didn’t I think of this sooner” he stated before attacking your neck with nibbles and bites, his hands moving to your chest, using your breasts like personal stress balls, whining you try and buck your hips towards him to get some relief and friction. Gareth lowers his body weight on top of you “Patience, princess, let me have my fun first” he mubles into your neck before suckilng a hickie onto your neck. “You look so good.” Moving his hands down to your thighs and under your skirt,  massaging just below where you need him. Removing his hand, he flipped your skirt, moving down while remaing eye contact with you, stopping when he comes face to face with your clothed cunt. 

“Gare, please” you whine to get his, Gareth on the other hand responsed by dragging his nose over your clit repeatedly causing low throaty moans to leave your mouth, grinding your hips against his face, Gareth moved your panties to the side and flattened his tongue againt your clit before sucking on it 

“Gareth, please” you whine to get his attention, Gareth on the other hand responds by dragging his nose over your clothes cunt, repeatedly, earning low throaty moans to leave your mouth. Before you could grind again this face, he moves your panties to the side and flattens his tongue against your clit before sucking and licking and placing small, light bites against it. Eating you out like a starved man, watching as you let moans free fall from your lips.

“Please, Gare, please”

“Please what, princess?” Moaning again, you try bucking your hips upwards towards him, hoping to get to message across without saying anything, receiving a hard slap on your inner left thigh after not giving a direct answer , Gareth likes when your upfront on what you want from him, you whine as he asks again “Please what, Princess?” sound more strict and less patience with you “Your finger- please i need your fingers” He lighting bites your clit as a warning, quickly responding “Inside me, please I need them inside me”

Humming, pleased with you response, he inserts his middle and ringer finger into your cunt, telling you to get off in his finger’s yourself, before he returns to his assault on your sensitive bud. Grabbing a fistful or his hair you begin grinding against him and you work yourself to towards finishing, hearing a mumbled “good girl” as you begin to feel that all too familiar feeling in your lower stomach, moving your hips faster and grinding down harder, Gareth matched your movements.

Moaning loud and you feel yourself on the edge you barley make out a sentence “ah- please- oh fuck- ima cum, please let cum! oh god” you hardly make out what he says over your own moans

“go on, cum, such a good slut for me “

Giving one last big suck to your nub, you loudly moan his name, pulling his hair as you ride out your orgasm. Gareth removes his fingers slowly and fixes your underwear as you catch your breath

“Maybe you should wear my flannel more often” Gareth suggests, giving him a out of breathe chuckle as you regain your senses “Maybe I should” smiling at him as he pulls you into your lap for some aftercare cuddles

[goldencherryhazz]

oh my goddd your dwd fic was < a m a z i n g 3 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Idk if youre taking reqs rn but if you are, how about a one-shot/hc/imagine ( whatever you feel like ) with reader being harassed by the pap? Like they invade her privacy and take some indecent photos of her? I feel like harry would go ballistic on them 🥵

Tysm for putting your works out for us to read!!!💖

I love this request, sorry it took soo long. I hope it is okay for you, (sorry if the ending is a bit shitty) there’s a bit of implied smut, fluff and a tad of angst, but lmk what you think. Thankyou soo much for reading and supporting me, it means the world!! If anyone else has any requests please send them in, I would love to see them!! 💗

‘Baby, m’just gonna go for a run okay’ Harry whispers to you, you eyes were still half closed and you still felt as though you were on top of the clouds after the way Harry had just taken you.

‘How do you still have energy after fucking me like that’ you groan remembering the feeling all to well, Harry can’t help but smirk at how you literally had no filter around him.

‘What can I say darling, I’m a man of many talents’ his ego increasing ever so slightly.

You shake your head at him, trying to contain your laughs.

‘Why are you shaking you head, you know you can’t deny it, not by the way you were screaming my name earlier.

You look away from him bashfully, your cheeks going slightly red ‘Guess you’ll have to prove your many talents to me when you get back from your run’

‘It’s a deal baby’ he slips his shirt over his body and you miss the sight of his bare torso already.

‘Gimme a kiss’ you lay there pouting ready for Harry inevitable arrival. It’s a mere threes seconds before his lips are on your one and you can’t help but sleepily smile into it.

Harry pulls away after a minute of so ‘gotta stop cause if I carry on I will not be able to leave that door’

‘Maybe that was my plan’ you smile sadistically at your boyfriend.

‘You are such a little minx you know that’ he smiles, fighting the urge to jump back into bed with you.

‘I know, and that’s why you fell in love with me’

‘Dam right baby, now I need to go because the sooner I do the quicker I get back’ he edges towards the door to the bedroom.

Okay, I love you, don’t miss me too much’

‘Don’t worry I will, love you my darling’ he says and with that he is out the door, and you shut your eyes wanting to contain this dreamy feeling inside of you.

Yourself and Harry were currently in Italy after landing there yesterday, from the airport you travelled down to the Amalfi coast, a favourited and regular destination for the two of you.

You just loved the fact that you were right near the ocean and could practically go to the beach whenever you wanted and it didn’t help that Harry always booked the most amazing villas, you felt like you didn’t ever want to leave.

You lay with your eyes shut and bask in the Italian sun seeping into the villa bedroom for around a quarter of an hour before you decide that it was time to get up and shower because you felt a little sweaty from the heat and we’re still recovering from your and Harry’s shenanigans even though you did it over 40 minutes ago.

As you walk to the bathroom the door to the balcony caught your eye and you can’t help but open both of the doors to reveal the gleaming ocean, the balcony itself being made of glass so it didn’t obscure the beautiful image of the Amalfi coast whatsoever, you stand then for a few minutes before rushing to the bathroom because you had seemingly forgotten the fat that you needed a wee.

From there you take a shower, brush your teeth and manipulate your hair so that it flowed down your back, looking ten times more presentable than you bed head before. You decide to slip on a pair of panties and a bra, that were both lacy and a light shade of blue and left little to the imagination, you felt sexy in them and you knew that Harry would love to see you in them, before inevitably ripping them off of your figure. You hadn’t brought any other clothes into the bathroom with you because you were soo indecisive when choosing what to were, sometimes Harry would even choose something out for you to make the process quicker.

Once you were back in the bedroom it seemed as though you were drawn back to the balcony, maybe it was the heat or the ocean breeze that drew you but before you knew it you were stood on the balcony, leant on the glass in just your lacy underwear. Not having a care in the world because why should you have, you hadn’t seen anyone near it and it was pretty secluded, or so you though.

Ten minutes was all it took for you day to turn upside down, you had actually made a decision of what to wears before you heard you phone pinging with a lot of notifications, you wished you hadn’t clicked on them because when you did you realise that pictures of you on the balcony in your seemingly innocent baby blue underwear were spreading like wildfire all through the internet. You were mortified, not only at the pictures but the fact that the people, more likely paps, could still be near the villa.

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t dare go near the doors again even though you were now dressed, you just didn’t know how paps thought it was okay to just invade peoples privacy like that, and some of the comments you had seen from internet trolls saying how they basically wanted to fuck you made you feel disgusting on the inside. You can’t think of anything else to do so instantly go to you contacts to ring Harry but he beats you too it, and you are relieved to just see his picture light up your screen.

‘Harry-‘ you say but he interrupts you instantly.

‘I know baby, I am running as fast as I can, promise I am two minutes away’ and you can hear how out of breath he is.

‘I think they are still here, I don’t know what to do’ you try and hold back tears, also wondering if he’d seen the pictures or if Jeff had told him what was happening.

‘are you still in the bedroom’

‘Yeah’

‘You stay right there, okay baby, I can see the villa now, I promise I will be there in a minute’

‘I’m gonna stay on the phone’

‘That’s fine baby, know your scared’ he speaks breathless words of comfort to you but in the inside he is absolutely furious, not at you obviously, but at the fucking paps that were invading your privacy, he absolutely hated it, he wanted to get to you as quick as possible because he knew the lengths that some paps would go to get a picture to spread around in return for money. If that meant trying to break an entrance, more than they already had, they would do it.

You are sat on the bedroom floor still, not even speaking to Harry letting him concentrate on getting back, his breathing alone is bringing comfort to you.

‘Okay baby, I’m at the door so don’t panic it’s only me’ he hangs up the phone and seconds later you hear him unlocking the door and opening it.

‘Y/n’ he shouts loud enough to be head throughout the whole villa.

He doesn’t get a response, instead it’s your body crashing into his sweaty one ‘im here baby, I’m here’ he kisses your forehead.

‘Im so sorry, didn’t think anyone would be there, I’ve ruined our trip’

‘Will you shut up, you have done absolutely nothing wrong my darling, it’s those bastards out there that are the fucking problem, thinking it’s okay to invade out privacy’ he says trying to keep his anger at bay, you know that it wasn’t directed at you.

‘Are they still there?’ You sniffle into his shoulder.

‘I don’t know, didn’t see anyone, I just needed to see if you were okay first before anything.’

‘This is awful, cause those pictures are everywhere, people are saying stuff about me on the internet’

‘Hey, hey I promise that Jeff and the team are doing everything they can to minimise the spread, think they’ve banned some accounts already’

‘It’s not going to get rid of it though’

‘I know baby, I know it’s not that’s the horrible reality of the internet these days’

You pull your phone out again and open instagram, and now you see not only pictures of you but pictures of Harry entering the villa aswell, confirming your thoughts over the fact that the paps were in fact still upside your villa.

Harrys sees the pictures aswell and at that point he’s had enough with these paps, he just wants to enjoy his holiday with his girl. So he decided that he is going to confront them which was probably a bad idea but he really didn’t care anymore.

‘Im gonna go and tell them to piss off’ and before you can stop him he is opening the front door and the sight before him almost makes him laugh because a few of the paps had emerged from wherever they were hiding before and now they looked like deer in a headlight, Harry startes talking and you think some of the mean and women are Italian and can’t really understand anything Harry is saying but he didn’t need to switch languages for them to know how angry he was, his facial expression and the fury in his eyes were the tell tale sign that they should probably leave and never come back.

‘I want you to leave right now, or I will call the police, and if you thought that I wasn’t going to sue every single one of you, you were very wrong, trust me I will be able to find out your names and what company you work for.’ Harry says quite calmly.

From you position peeking through the ajar front door you can see someone trying to argue back with him and that’s when he slightly looses it ‘I don’t give a shit if it’s your job, the fact that you have found me on holiday and invaded mine and my girlfriends privacy is disgusting, and the fact that you took pictures of y/n and spread them on the internet just so that your wallet is a bit fatter, you should be ashamed of yourself. My girl should be able to stand on that fucking balcony naked without any of you fuckers trying to take pictures, that’s what a private villa is supposed to be’

Harry is seething by now, a few look quite startled at his outburst and that’s when they start dispersing out from where they have somehow managed to sneak in, probably scared of the consequences they could face and Harry stands there till every single one of them leaves.

‘H you okay?’ You walk up to him now knowing it was safe and all the paps were gone.

‘Im okay now, fucking hate it’

What baby?

‘Just that paps never leave us alone, sometimes feels like I’m trapped, I know it comes with the job but it’s still shit either way, i hate it even more when they involve you, you don’t deserve to be exploited like that, not fair’ Harry is close to tears now because he feels like a shit boyfriend from not being able to protect you from happening like this, but you know that they are out of his control.

‘Hey, it’s okay they’re gone, Jeff’s doing everything he can to get those pictures down I know he is, I think all we should do now is call the police just as a precaution to make sure there definitely is t anyone else on the property and then we can forget about it, yeah, enjoy our holiday’ the roles are reversed and now you are the one comforting him having calmed down a lot since the paps had gone.

‘Yeah, wanna enjoy are holiday, wanna enjoy you’ he says cheekily.

‘You know what, you look so hot when your angry’ you flirt trying to lighten up the mood, referring to the way his muscles were tensing and glistening under the sun.

‘Swear I’m obsessed with you’ he smiles down at you ‘and those baby blue panties and bra’ he grimaced at the joke he tried to make out of the situation worried it was a bit too soon, but you can’t help but laugh and you kiss him straight on the lips.

From that moment you and Harry make it your mission to forget about the whole incident, because you knew that most of his fans would be on your and his side and hopefully stop spreading the pictures of you and then that could be put to bed, you spend the rest of the day chilling, making out which then led to more frisky activities, and ending the day eating your favourite Italian cuisines and cuddling, and before you knew it the morning events was a mere dot in the distance.

You both loved being inside your little Italian love bubble and you knew that as long as you had each other, you would be absolutely fine.

[theweasleysredhair]

Tease [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 4110

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Every time George tries to get you alone, something seems to interrupt you and he can’t seem to catch a break. Maybe he just needs to get a bit more creative, or maybe teasing you under the table is enough to get you as worked up and desperate as he is.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. george is being a hot cheeky bastard wanting to shag his girlfriend.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @harrysweasleys @toranyx @theweirdsideofstuff @ickle-ronniekins @levylovegood @wand3ringr0s3 @diary-of-an-onliner

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: idk, george makes me feel things. enjoy and thanks for requesting nonnie! ❤️

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

George was frustrated. In both senses of the word. He had originally thought that inviting you to the Burrow over Christmas was a wonderful idea, and whilst he loved having you around, he felt as though he’d barely even seen you since you’d arrived. And it was beginning to drive him insane.

He loved that you got along with his family so well, that they constantly wanted to be around you but, in his eyes, he’d invited you there to be with him, and the fact you’d probably had around 10 minutes alone over the last week was starting to get to him.

It didn’t help, and he was certain you were doing this on purpose, that you kept wearing his shirts around the Burrow - something you knew turned him on - or that one day you wore a jumper that fell off one shoulder, exposing the area of skin that George wanted to kiss and bite down on. Or, worse, that one day you wore a skirt and knee high socks - Merlin, George thought he felt his heart stop that day.

He’d tried multiple times to get you alone - pulled you into empty rooms in the Burrow to kiss you, locked Fred out of their bedroom and even tried snogging you outside but it had gotten too cold and started snowing. Unfortunately, each time you were alone in a room together, you’d been interrupted fairly quickly by his family coming to ask you something or other, or in the case of locking his twin out, Fred had grabbed a broom and flew up to the window and knocked on there instead, wiggling his eyebrows and wolf whistling at the both of you as he found you underneath your boyfriend (fully clothed, much to George’s dismay).

So to say he was getting desperate would be an understatement.

And as he watched you from across the living room, sat cross legged on one of the couches as you laughed with Ginny, he began thinking of new ways to spend time with you, without the rest of his family barging in.

He thought about locking Fred out again, but this time closing the curtains and the window. He thought about the shed outside, and as much as he’d like to be in those close quarters with you, he knew it was far too cold. All he wanted was to be with you, without everyone else hanging round.

He finally saw his chance when Ginny decided to go off to talk to Hermione about some work she had for the next coming school term, leaving you in the living room with just the twins.

George seized the moment, standing up and walking over to you. He leant down to your ear, his voice low and warm breath hitting the side of your face, “My room, in two minutes.” You felt a shiver down your spine as you watched him walk off towards the stairs, eyes glued to the way his back muscles were moving in the t shirt he was wearing, but not missing the warning look he shot at Fred, who was sat in front of the fire and smirking at his younger twin.

You stood up after a minute, straightening out your sweater before following in the direction of where George had just left, rolling your eyes but laughing all the same when Fred called after you, “Not on my bed, okay?”

“That was one time!” You joked, laughing harder when you heard him spluttering out a horrified, “What?!”

Reaching the top of the stairs, you made the familiar journey to the twins’ room, where George was waiting. No sooner had you pushed the twins’ door open were you suddenly pressed against it, your boyfriend’s lips on yours, kissing you desperately, as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to him as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, making you moan softly as he deepened the kiss, his hands resting on the skin underneath the hem of your sweater.

His fingers ran up your side to the base of your bra, gently stroking along the lace as his eyes widened, him pulling away very slightly, both to catch his breath and ask, “You’re wearing lace for me?”

You shrugged, grinning at him, “Maybe.”

He groaned, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head, “You’re killing me, love.”

He ducked his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, talking between each one, “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been not being as close to you as I want to be? I’ve been going insane.”

“You think you’re the only one?”

His hands ran down your body and round to your bum, giving it a squeeze as he pushed you against the wall. As he trailed up towards your mouth to kiss you properly, he tugged gently at the hem of your sweater.

Just as you had pulled it over your head - George mesmerised by the way your lace bra accentuated your breasts - you heard Molly call up the stairs that food was ready, and for everyone to come down.

George shook his head, grabbing your waist, “I can’t wait any longer, just look what you’ve done to me, love.” He pressed himself against you, and you could feel him hard against where you wanted him, making your breath hitch.

“Let’s just not go,” he mumbled, tracing kisses across your collarbone and down to the tops of your breasts.

You let out a breathy sigh as you ran your hand through his messy hair, “We have to, your mum has made food and honestly I’d love to eat it - I’m hungry and she’s an amazing cook.”

George buried his head into your shoulder,

“I’d rather eat something else to be honest.”

“George!” You playfully swatted at his arm, before pulling away and moving around him to grab the sweater you’d dropped, putting it back on.

As you passed him again, he reached out to grab your hip, “Are you sure we have to go?” You nodded, “Yes! Everyone will be waiting for us.”

“Fine...” He agreed, albeit reluctantly, running a hand through his hair to tidy it a little as he sat on his bed. You stood near the doorway for a couple of minutes, waiting for him to stand up, however he continued to sit there, making you raise an eyebrow and turn to walk out, hoping it would prompt him to follow, “Right, come on then.”

“Give me a minute,” he replied, staring at the floor.

You turned back to him with a frown. “Why- oh!” You realised, “Want me to wait or go?”

George licked his lips, his eyes looking you up and down, “Should probably go darlin’, knowing you’re right next to me looking like you do is enough to keep me hard all night.”

Scoffing out a laugh, you looked at him sympathetically, “We’ll finish this later, I promise.”

You left him in his room, heading down the stairs to where the family usually ate meals, finding most of them already there, bar Ron and Harry, who arrived a few minutes after you, pushing and shoving each other as they laughed at something one of them had said.

You were sat at the end of the table, Fred across from you, an empty seat to your left for George. Molly rushed into the room, placing plates of food down with a wave of her wand, fussing over Harry before heading over to you, “Do you know where George is, dear?”

“I think he’s in his room, Molly. Said he’d be down soon,” you replied with a smile. She placed a plate in front of you and nodded as you thanked her, “That boy is never on time for anything I swear - he’ll be late to even your wedding, just you watch dear!”

Her comment made your cheeks warm, and you ducked your head to hide your smile just as she wandered off to grab a plate for Percy, who was sat at the other end of the table beside Arthur, deep in conversation.

“So, where is my dear younger twin?” Fred asked, shooting you a knowing smirk as he began eating the food on his plate.

“Well-“

“I’m right here,” George announced as he entered the room, finally making his appearance as he took the seat beside you.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Fred spoke with a knowing grin shot in his twin’s direction.

“Yeah well, I had something to take care of,” George grumbled, sharing a glance with you and rolling his eyes when Fred let out a mocking laugh.

The beginning of the meal went by as normal, the family laughing and joking, you joining in. You’d just placed some more food in your mouth when you felt George’s hand on your thigh, just above your knee - the place he knew got you worked up. You glanced over at him, but his focus was on the conversation going on about a new muggle artefact Arthur had discovered at work.

Thinking it was just a coincidence, you went back to eating, however you suddenly felt his hand slide up your thigh slowly, fingertips squeezing gently, and dancing across the waistband of your trousers. Noticing the small smirk on George’s face, you shook your head a little at him, gesturing discreetly at the rest of his family, but he didn’t seem to be too concerned.

His hand moved down into your underwear, his fingers finding your clit easily - both from practice and from just knowing your body so well - and he gently began tracing circles, making your hips jolt forward and causing you to almost drop your fork.

He gave you a cheeky grin, “Everything okay there, love?” You grit your teeth as you replied, “Everything is just fine.”

His applied a little more pressure, circling faster and making you bite your lip. You swallowed a content sigh so as to not egg him on, and tried to focus on the main conversation, which had moved onto Hogwarts.

“So Y/n,” Molly began, making everyone turn to you, including George, who shot you a half smirk before picking up his pace, making you swallow harshly, “How are your lessons going?”

“They’re going quite well, Molly!” You replied, though your voice was slightly shaky, “I’m enjoying Care of Magical Creatures this year, there’s some interesting-“ you let out a half gasp as George suddenly pushed a finger into you, earning a few looks of concern.

“Are you okay, dear?” Molly asked, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Oh no! I’m fine, thank you! I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened there! But as I was saying, there’s some interesting creatures we’re learning about this year, so I’m really excited,” you smiled, hoping no one would be suspicious (nobody seemed to be, even Fred seemed preoccupied and wasn’t paying much attention, which you were thankful for.)

Hermione began talking about her own lessons, and you shot a warning glare over at George, who smiled innocently at you, as if he wasn’t currently fingering you under the table where his family were eating their evening meal. He added a second finger casually, bringing you closer to the edge.

He moved his fingers in and out, smirking to himself as he continuing eating his meal with one hand. He carried on for a couple of minutes and your hips began thrusting slightly towards his hand.

However, just as you clenched around him, he stopped what he was doing for a moment. You glared up at him, raising an eyebrow but he just shot you a lazy half smile, waiting for you to come back down a little before moving again, purposely teasing you.

Thankfully, the food was eaten quickly, meaning George had to stop. You were both grateful for that, and annoyed as you were now even more frustrated than before, as he hadn’t actually let you finish.

Soon after the plates were cleared, Molly ushered you all into the living room to sit down and wait for her to bring you all some hot chocolate. It was a tradition you adored usually, however since you were sat near your hot boyfriend who had now made you extremely sexually frustrated, you couldn’t wait for everyone to just go to bed.

George shared a couch with you, draping a blanket across both of your legs, and making sure you were comfy. You leant your head against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A few minutes later, you were all sat around the roaring fire, chatting together over your mugs of hot chocolate. You brought it up to your nose and revelled in the amazing smell, before taking your first sip. You had to admit, if there was one thing you loved about Christmas at the Weasleys, it was Molly’s hot chocolate.

You rested the mug on your knee, however nearly spilled some of your drink when you felt George’s free hand creep under the blanket and across your thigh. You tensed, still on edge from his antics at the dinner table - something that made him smile to himself, knowing you were getting just as worked up as he had been all week.

Placing a hand over his, you halted his actions, trying to push him away just a little, in order to be more decent. Undeterred, George decided to wait a couple of minutes before trying again. He placed his hand on the inside of your thigh, and then left it there, unmoving and right where you wanted him, making you shift uncomfortably.

You quickly drank your hot chocolate and placed it on the side table next to you, before looking over at George and raising an eyebrow at him. He grinned innocently just as he squeezed your inner thigh, making you press you lips together and it taking everything in you not to buck your hips against his hand.

Luckily, Hermione stood up soon after she’d finished her own drink, placing the mug on the table and stretching, “Thank you for the hot chocolate, Mrs Weasley, but I think I’m going to head up to bed. I’ve got a new book that I can’t wait to start!”

And then after Hermione, one by one, you noticed everyone bidding their goodnights and heading up the stairs and further into the burrow, until you realised it was just Molly and Arthur left. And after a while, even they retreated upstairs too - Molly ensuring you knew there was more food left in the kitchen if you wanted it - meaning you and George were finally alone.

“You tease!” You scolded, “Under the bloody table and then under a blanket when your family were literally less than a metre away from us? What were you thinking?”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it. It excited you, knowing they were there, didn’t it?” He said in a low tone, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You opened your mouth to reply but no words came out, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong, and he knew it.

George bit his lip and gave one last glance up the stairs before bringing you into a rough kiss, pulling you onto him so you were straddling him on the couch.

It didn’t take long for you both to be breathing heavily, hot breaths hitting your face as he licked down your jaw.

He shifted under you, rolling his hips up into you, making the both of you groan, before you had to pull away a little.

“You sure you want to do it here?” You asked as you glanced up the stairs at where his family had disappeared to moments before.

“We’ve tried everywhere else, and kept being interrupted. Here, everyone is going to sleep. It’s our best chance,” George reasoned, running a finger along the waistband of your trousers.

“What if someone needs something from down here and catches us?” You asked, though you began leaning towards him to bring him into another kiss. He smirked back at you, “Isn’t that part of the fun?”

And you hated to admit it, but he was right. Something about the risk of being caught whilst being fucked by George was definitely appealing, and you looked up at him, biting your lip as you smiled, “I suppose so.”

That was all George needed to bring you back into a hot kiss, swirling his tongue around your mouth as you ground your hips down onto him, making him groan into your mouth. His hands gripped your waist pulling you against him further as one of yours ran through his hair, the other resting on his chest.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he murmured against your lips, taking a quick breather to grab the hem of your sweater and helping you to pull it off, throwing it on the floor and leaving you in that lacy bra that George had been picturing the entire time he was sat at the table.

You reached round to unclip it but George stopped you, “Keep the bra on... and your knickers while you’re at it, I’m just gonna pull them to one side and fuck you whilst you’re wearing them.”

You moaned at the thought, grinding down onto his hard cock again, making him let out a shuddering breath. Pulling away for a moment, you stood up to take your trousers off, George doing the same. He then pulled off his underwear, his cock springing out, long and hard as he stroked himself a couple of times before sitting back down on the couch, pulling you down onto him again.

You could feel him against the lace of your underwear, and you circled your hips, making him groan against the skin of your neck, where he was pressing wet, open mouthed kisses, occasionally biting and sucking to elicit breathy moans from you.

“Look at you being all desperate for me,” George commented, watching as you kept bucking your hips against him, needy for the friction between your legs.

He reached down into your soaked underwear for the second time that evening, teasing your clit again before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to clean them off. He felt you grinding yourself down onto him and smirked to himself before deciding to move you a little to the right so you were now straddling his thigh, “Reckon you could come just from fucking my thigh, love?”

He jolted his leg a little, the skin of his muscular thigh moving against the material of your underwear and hitting you in just the right spot, making you cry out in pleasure.

“Merlin, you look so wickedly hot right now,” George breathed out, watching as you circled your hips around his thigh, eyes shut, head falling back as gasps fell from your pretty lips. At the back of his mind, he was aware that you couldn’t be much louder if you didn’t want to be caught, but Godric, did George love the sounds you were making.

“I’m close,” you gasped as he squeezed your hips, lifting his thigh a little to add more pressure. “That’s a good girl, I’m right here,” he murmured in your ear. Just a few minutes later, you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure washing over you, leaning your head onto George’s shoulders as he pressed kisses along the side of your neck.

“You looked so pretty coming for me like that, darlin’. Did you enjoy my thigh?” He murmured, sucking on a patch of skin below your ear. You nodded feebly, still seeing stars, and George smiled against your skin. He gave you a couple of minutes to bring your heart rate back to normal, however as soon as he felt your hips moving again, he leaned back with a smug expression and bit his lip, glancing from your dazed eyes to your swollen lips, “Are you ready for more, princess?”

All you could bring yourself to do was nod, finally satisfied from all the teasing he’d done to you over the course of the evening. He kissed you gently, a difference pace from a few moments previous, before thrusting his hips up to meet yours, enjoying the moan that escaped you as he hit your sensitive clit.

You felt him move your underwear to the side, and he lifted you up a little, allowing you slowly sink down onto him, making you both groan, enjoying the feeling of him being inside you again.

“You feel so bloody good, love,” he praised as you started to move up and down on his cock, circling your hips and falling into a rhythm as you rode him, “Taking me so well. My good girl.”

“George,” you breathed out, clutching his shoulders and he grabbed your hips to guide you. His head fell back, heavy breaths leaving his lips as you continued to ride him, both of you getting close - you from all the stimulation and him from his lack of.

You continued moving on him as he pushed his hips up to meet your thrusts. He sat up a little bit, causing him to go deeper, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out.

“You’re so good to me, love. I’m getting close,” he groaned, leaning forward to press kisses to the tops of your breasts, gently biting at one in order to leave a mark.

“Georgie you feel amazing, I’m-“ you finished your sentence with a groan as you felt him twitch inside of you.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he murmured into your neck, and you let your second orgasm of the night hit you, pleasure flowing through your body as your eyes closed and head fell back, clenching around him and moaning again as you felt George finish inside of you just as you began to come down from the high.

You both stayed there for a moment, the only sounds being the both of your heavy breathing as you tried to steady your heart rate.

And that’s when you heard the sound of the steps creaking and you froze, hands gripping onto George’s shoulders as your heart beat fast for a different reason this time, praying whoever it was wouldn’t find you in the position you were in currently - namely, sat on top of your boyfriend on his couch with him still inside you. You waited with bated breath, eyes shutting in anticipated embarrassment as he pulled the blanket around you in case he had to hide you.

“Will you two be a bit quieter? Some of us are trying to sleep!”

You exhaled at the sound of Fred’s voice hissing down from the top of the stairs, thanking Merlin it wasn’t Molly.

“Please just go back to the room, Fred,” George called back to his twin through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know, I kinda want a glass of water now I’m up...” Fred replied, and you heard him step down onto the next stair tauntingly.

“Fred!” George warned. “Fine, I’m going, I’m going!”

You heard him heading back up the creaky stairs and across to where you knew his room was before opening your eyes to look up at George, letting out a small giggle as he leant his forehead against your shoulder for a moment, before pulling you off of him carefully and standing up to grab a cloth for you, unable to keep himself from laughing too.

“You know he’s never going to let us forget this right?” You grinned in the dark, before grabbing the cloth from him.

“Might as well make it a night to remember then, huh?” George grinned cheekily, leaning against the nearby wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes wandered down the veins in his lower arms before looking up at him, “What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking, round two, you sat on the kitchen counter, with my head between your legs. What do you say?” George smirked, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked you over.

You stood up quickly, grabbing his hand, “I say let’s go.”

“Well that didn’t take much convincing,” he followed you into the kitchen with a grin.

“Yeah well,” you replied as you reached the kitchen counter, him grabbing your waist and lifting you up onto it, standing between your legs,

“Right now I’d rather you use that tongue for something other than talking.”

[pinkandblueblurbs]

Hello there, can we have another Weasley twins smut ?? like in the prefect bathroom something like that please ? thank you!!!

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader x George Weasley. Threesome, no incest, hand jobs, clit rubbing, praise, degradation, liiiiight innocence kink? idk reader’s kinda innocent in it

word count: 1.8k

“Where the bloody hell are we going?” You ask with exasperation as Fred drags you through the halls of Hogwarts, pace so eager that you’re forced into a near run to keep up with the tall boy.

“You’ll see- we’re almost there” the boy assures, pulling you along until he comes to a halt outside of a door you’ve only ever walked past.

“Freddie- the prefect’s bathroom?!” You question in a raised whisper, shock lacing your tone. “What the hell are we doing here?”

Rather than give you an answer the boy merely leans forward and murmurs something you can’t quite catch, allowing him to push open the door of the bathroom. Before you have any time whatsoever to process what’s going on, he’s pulling you inside and closing the door behind the both of you.

You take in the large, extravagant room- high ceiling, a large tub, lavish sinks- one of which George Weasley is leaning against casually, arms crossed before his chest.

“Took you both long enough, I was starting to wonder if you got lost.” He drawls, tone and expression teasing.

“Woulda gotten here sooner if this one didn’t make me drag her here kicking and screaming.” Fred indicates you with a nod, dramatizing your journey here to the extreme. You roll your eyes.

“Pardon me for being hesitant and wanting to know what could be so important you’d have me skip Astronomy. I’m still unclear on what exactly we’re doing, by the way.”

“Well, angel, we convinced Ron to give us the password for this fantastic little room, with a lovely little tub, and we made you skip class to ensure we’d have the place aaall to ourselves” George divulges, strong arms pushing himself off of the sink so he can stroll over to you. “Why do you think we’d do that, hm?”

You swallow, excitement bubbling up inside you as you feel Fred’s presence behind you, his strong chest against your back as he starts rubbing your arms. George makes it to you and takes your chin in his fingers, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his taunting expression.

“Well?” He prompts.

“T-to do something naughty” you murmur, heat rising to your cheeks. The boy lets out a short laugh, Fred echoing it from behind you.

“That’s right, precious.” He confirms, leaning down to bring his mouth closer to yours. “Merlin, you’re adorable.” He whispers before his lips meet your own, gentle and sweet in their embrace.

You distantly feel Fred’s hands at your back as you lose yourself in the kiss, his skilled fingers pinching the clasp of your bra through your sweater and freeing the hooks from their loops with a well practiced ease. Then his hands move down and slip under the fabric of your sweater, traveling upwards from their and dragging the material with them, exposing your skin to the tepid air.

George pulls away from you to allow Fred to pull the garment from your form, coaxing a whine from your lips at the loss of his lips. George coos while Fred chuckles at your neediness, the latter slipping the straps off your now loose bra from your shoulders and allowing the item to fall to the floor.

George crouches to help you out of your shoes, socks, skirt and panties as you feel Fred step away and begin to remove his own clothes.

George rises to his full height once you’re nude, your clothes discarded in a pile on the floor of the bathroom. You lean up eagerly to kiss the boy once more, but he catches your cheeks with one hand, the other moving to the buttons of his shirt.

“Ah ah.” He chastises, a cocky grin on his face at your desperation. “You go get in the water with Freddie, hm?”

You pout a bit, letting out a soft disappointed whimper at being denied a kiss, but do as George says, following Fred as he makes his way to the large tub. You let out a giggle as you trail behind him, making him look over his shoulder at you with a raised brow, donning a grin.

“What’s so funny, princess?”

“Your bum.” You respond amusedly as he steps into the water. He lets out a feigned gasp of offense.

“My bum? What’s so funny about it?? I’ll have you know I have a fantastic bum”

“It just looked funny as you walked.” You respond with a shrug, grinning at the boy. He brings a hand up to his chest, placing it over his heart.

“I’m hurt. I consider my bum one of my best attributes, and you’ve ruined that for me.”

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes as the boy grabs you by the waist and pulls you into the water. You’re pleased to find it’s the perfect temperature.

“Not to burst your bubble, but your bum is far from your best attribute, Fred.” You inform the boy, smirking up at him, his large hands still resting on your waist, thumbs rubbing the skin there.

“Oh yeah? And what, pray tell, is my best attribute then?” He inquires, the cheeky grin on his face indicating that he has a pretty good guess at your answer. You let out another giggle.

“I think you know, Fred.” You intone as the boy sits down on the built-in bench of the tub, pulling you into his lap so you’re straddling him.

“I can’t be sure, baby, I have so many lovable characteristics! My charming personality, my unmatchable wit, my great sense of humor-“

“your massive head” George finishes with a smack to the back of Fred’s skull as he steps into the tub beside you both. You let out a laugh that George echoes with a chuckle while Fred scowls at his twin.

“Oh bugger off, you’re just jealous that she was going to say my cock’s my best attribute.” Fred taunts his brother before turning to you. “Isn’t that right, sweet cheeks?”

Heat rises to your face as you murmur a drawled “maaaybe” in response to Fred’s teasing inquiry. The boy grins.

“That’s a yes. Why don’t you take a seat right here, princess” he nods to the spot between him and George “and show us just how much you like our cocks, hm?”

The words make you shiver as an eager thrill courses through you and you nod at the boy, shifting off of his lap and into the spot between your boyfriends. The warm water laps at your collarbones while the surface just barely hits the swell of the twins’ pectorals.

They waste no time in each grabbing one of your wrists and guiding your hands towards their hard members. Immediately you grasp them in your hands, feeling their familiar girth and weight as you start to drag your fists up the length of them.

Both boys groan at your touch, watching intently as your hands move over their cocks, jerking them off in sync.

“That’s a good girl, baby. You’re so good at that” George praises, voice a soft, breathy rumble with his arousal.

“Thank you, Georgie” you breathe out, red hot embers of arousal glowing within you as your palms glide over the velvety skin of their lengths, as your fingers caress their textured heads, as your thumbs swipe over their leaking tips.

“Such a little slut, jerking two cocks at the same time.” Fred murmurs, large hand coming up to grope the flesh of your breast. You moan at the sensation of his calloused palms and fingers on your delicate skin.

“She’s got two hands for a reason, doesn’t she?” George quips, lips upturned in a crooked grin. You tuck into yourself a bit at that, feeling bashful, but Fred’s having none of it. With his free hand he reaches out to grasp your jaw.

“Don’t get shy on us, pumpkin. You know you’re a little slut, don’t you? ‘S no reason to be embarrassed.”

“You should be proud, really. You’re quite good at it.” George adds on to Fred’s little taunt. Your heart chest tightens with embarrassment, but the coil in your belly tightens to boot.

“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you give Georgie a kiss, hm? That’ll make you feel better.” Fred muses, using his grip on your chin to turn you towards the younger male.

George leans down to connect his lips to yours without hesitation. This kiss is sloppier than the one you’d shared earlier- his tongue explores your mouth unabashedly, your lips glide against each other with an eager hunger. Fred’s hand leaves your chin and trails downwards, running over the skin of your chest, down your belly, and finally reaching the apex of your thighs.

You let out a breathy moan into the cavern of George’s mouth as Fred’s nimble finger drags between your folds, teasing over your swollen clit. George grins against your lips, murmuring “does that feel good, poppet?” to which you can only respond with a whimper.

You continue to stroke the boys’ cocks as Fred rubs well-practiced circles on your clit, the gentle splashing over water creating a cacophony of sound with your gasping breaths and erratic moans of pleasure.

Your skin buzzes with sensation as George’s hand comes up to knead your breast. His touch along with his lips on yours, Fred’s finger on your bud, and their cocks in your hands create an erotic experience that has the coals in your belly bursting into flames and steadily nearing their scorching zenith.

“Please, don’t stop” you gasp out, lips detaching from George’s as your forehead crashes against his stable shoulder. The boy presses kisses to your temple and down the side of your face to your jaw, where he nips and sucks at the skin there.

“Gonna cum for us, baby? Gonna cum?” He murmurs against your skin. You nod blearily, hands slowing down on their lengths as your release builds and builds.

“Go on, princess. Cum for us.” Fred grits out the order, finger expertly working your clit and coaxing you over that blissful edge of pleasure.

Your mind goes pleasantly blank as sensation overwhelms you, drawing a wanton moan falling from your lips. The heat in your belly spreads like wildfire throughout your nerves, and you tremble between the two boys in your pleasure.

“That’s it, fuckin’ hell, so fuckin’ pretty” George groans out, his hand coming down to replace your own, which had fallen limp, and work over the shaft of his cock. Fred does the same, and both boys’ breathing grows shaky as they fist swiftly over their lengths, anxious to follow you into that delightful euphoria.

Having watched you cum- your face contorted in pleasure, your hips rolling involuntarily, your body shaking slightly- it does not take the boys long to finish. With matching groans they cum, the thick substance shooting into the water and floating within it in ropes.

The room falls silent save for the panting breaths of all three of you as you come down from your high. Through your haze, as you stare at their cum in the water, a scowl falls over your features.

“That’s bloody disgusting” you mutter, leaning against George’s shoulder as you bring your feet up into Fred’s lap. George chuckles.

“That’s quite contrary to your usual reaction, angel.

taglist: @whizzbeesdukes @snapesdaughsjm @kyleed24 @woman-with-no-name @barneswidow @randomoutsiders @fandom-puff @spxllcxstxr @frecklesandfirecrackers @layaaaa @wholebigboxofyikes @fific7 @pandaxnienke @weasleyposts @sw33tgirl @amourtentiaa @drachoesimp @st0nesnglitter @sunrisefairy

[thefanficmonster]

idk if u know him but i just found out that technoblade has cancer and now im really sad but it did get me a lil curious to see a small corpse x reader scenario or headcanons where reader announces they have cancer in the midst of playing with corpse and their friends on stream?

Sorry for the long wait dear but here is your request finally fulfilled. Because of my long queue I decided to go for headcanons and I hope you don't mind. If you want a full fic of this concept don't hesitate to let me know ~ XOXO, Vy 💕

Streamer gang & Reader (Gender Neutral)

TW: Mentions of suffering from cancer, Mentions of hospital visits and hospital treatment

- You had been running late for the stream you and the crew had arranged a few days prior - Because of certain problems with the system at you hospital, you had to attend your appointment that day instead of the day before, the timing clashing a bit with the timing of the stream - You sent Rae a quick text that you'd be late for the event, hoping she wouldn't ask why - And luckily she didn't - Truth be told, it's not like you were going to extreme lengths to hide your illness, you just didn't want you friends seeing you differently - Still, however, you were planning to tell them sooner or later - You always made up scenarios in your head of how it would go and only in a few were your news accepted lightly - You hated that you had to risk all those other, far less fortunate alternatives, but it was what it was and you had zero control of how they’d react so you were practically helpless in that field - That being said, you just let out a sigh every time your mind started going down that route - “Hey guys, sorry I’m late. The hospital messed up my appointment which was supposed to be YESTERDAY. So shout out to them, you guys suck. Just kidding, y’all keep me alive.” - Your friends chuckled at your comment, paying no mind to it as anything but a joke - “Time you switch hospitals then.” Toast nudges you jokingly - “Oh trust me, bro, that would be hella more complicated than just making appointments in my local one. All my paperwork, records, medical history, everything’s there. I can just about imagine how much of it would be lost if I moved.” - Corpse scoffs, amused, “Damn, you make it sound like you’re in and out of the hospital more than I am.” - You playfully roll your eyes even though he can’t see me, “Yeah, well having cancer does that to a person.” - The call goes quiet for a few moments, making you think back to what you just said, turning pale as a ghost, all you blood running cold - “Fuck-” Corpse is the first one to speak up, “That’s fucking horrible.” - “Why didn’t you tell us?” Rae follows him up, voice equally as concerned as Corpse’s, both of them clearly rattled by your confession - As is the rest of the game lobby - You fidget with your hands, your eyes stinging with sudden hot tears that are threatening to spill but you refuse to let them - The last thing you were expecting when imagining the aforementioned scenarios was crying - You thought you had come to terms with it long ago to the point where you can even joke about it but turns out you were wrong - “I-” You begin to speak but stutter because of the knot in your throat, “I didn’t want you guys to...pity me or see me any differently. I-..I wouldn’t be able to stand even you treating me like I’m fragile and overthinking everything you say in my presence.” - Your response is answered by another moment of silence before your racing mind is put to a slight ease by Corpse’s voice travelling through your headset - “Nothing will change, Y/N.” He says, tone still shaky but at least steadier than before, “You’re still the most badass impostor among us.” He pauses, “Pun was not intended, but I truly mean it.” - “Yeah, you’re still the same and so are we, this changes nothing.” Toast says reassuringly. - “However!” Rae interrupts, causing your heart to drop, “Do you promise to never again keep us in the dark about things going on in your life? We’re your friends and we wanna be there for you, don’t keep our hands tied.” - Your heart rose and dropped yet again but did so under the effect of a completely different emotion than before - joy - The tears prickling your eyes are now happy tears, ones you hadn’t let out in years - “I promise.” You say with a sniffle, “And one more thing...” - “Yeah?” Corpse says - “Thank you.”

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[hoe-imaginess]

vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader 

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

word count: 11.7k

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

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

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

⤰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More distraction, he entreated himself. 

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

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

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

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

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

And it was coming from you.

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

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤰

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤰

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

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

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

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

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

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

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

“I just don’t... want it.”

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

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

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

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

”Your quirk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t. 

Maybe not yet. 

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

[magnhild]

ranking all of the star wars media i've seen so far because i think aside from andor (which i'm not watching til it's finished) i've watched all the (canon) pre-original trilogy content

(copied and pasted from my twitter)

10. solo

i won't say i disliked it but it didn't capture my attention either. it was kind of just there and i zoned out for most of it. i liked the droid but then she died :( i think it absolutely should've been allowed to be a comedy

9. rogue one

kind of the same story as solo; i don't really see why it needed to exist and nothing about it much interested me. i didn't actually like it any more than solo but i think if i flipped the ranking people would get mad at me.

8. the phantom menace

the beginning of my sw journey and yet sadly it did not leave much of an impact on me. the editing was. something. and it felt oddly-paced. sometimes the cgi and practical effects were really cool though (and sometimes they weren't).

7. attack of the clones

honestly this movie kind of felt all over the place? like so much happened but not really in a good way. the editing felt better than the first one though and it had less jar-jar which is always a good thing.

6. revenge of the sith

watching this after the clone wars added a lot more weight behind the events but also made anakin's turn so incredibly jarring. i feel like they really nerfed padme too :/ it's mostly the added context of the clone wars that puts this one above the other two in my eyes, even if it also manages to be a detriment. idk.

5. obi-wan kenobi

i think a lot of people didn't care for this one and i can see why but i thought it was fine. probably did not need to exist but young leia is the cutest little shit and her interactions with obi-wan really made the series for me. glad it was short though.

4. tales of the jedi

yeah i know it JUST came out but i'm putting it here anyway. on the ahsoka side of things i don't personally feel like her episodes added much except for maybe the first one bc i love backstory, but ahsoka is ofc my favourite character so i will never complain about more screentime for her. dooku's stuff was pretty interesting though and i like the context that it adds to his whole deal. i kind of feel we should've gotten it sooner tbh.

3. the clone wars

i think the main thing holding it bad a little for me is its length. i feel like it could've been cut down a fair bit, but for as many boring episodes as it had, there were plenty of great ones as well. i'd say that this is the piece of sw media that does the most for the franchise as a whole. it added SO MUCH context and opened up so many paths for more content. characters actually got to be characters, including the clones, and it makes the third movie hit that much harder. perhaps most importantly of all (this is a joke don't @ me), it gave us ahsoka, who i love very much, and who i find very interesting. i will never get sick of her.

2. the bad batch

though it had plenty of action and drama, the main draw of this show for me is the more lighthearted stuff. omega's addition to the sw cast was a very good decision and i loved every moment we got of her. to see a sw series that put more focus on family was really refreshing for me and i can't wait to see more of it next year. this show was also my first introduction to kanen and hera and goodness i had no idea what i was in for. 

1. rebels

if you've been paying any attention to my twitter at all this past week this should come as no surprise. like the bad batch, if there's one thing i loved most about rebels, it's the found family aspect. i loved seeing the main cast interact and all of their dynamics had a wonderful quality to them that i appreciated. and it gave me back ahsoka! and i love it for that. the entire show had this strong feeling of hope running through it, which of course made the second half of s4 hit all the harder for me. as much as kanan's death and everything surrounding it hurt me, however, i can only commend the series on the impeccable writing that led to that moment. everything was incredibly well-crafted, creating a moment that impacted me more than any other piece of media ever has before. it made me cry at fiction for the first time ever and i love it for that. but i also hate it for that. but i love it for that. i desperately hope that we'll get to see the main character again in the franchise's future, not just because i miss them dearly, but because i feel like none of their stories ar quite finished. i think there's a lot more we could see from them, with my biggest (and probably most unrealistic) hope being for a series focused on hera as she raises her son and works to move on from kanan's death, bc i feel like the series did Not give her enough time to grieve (not that i can blame it, war is busy). 

and there we have it! i don't know if my rankings are very controversial but, as i was saying last night on my twitter, i often enjoy tv shows more than movies, which is why they all ranked above them here. thank u for reading my long post.

[im-whatchamccallit]

My Baby//Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Very suggestive but mainly fluff

Warnings: Again, just very suggestive but nothing serious

Wonrd Count: 1.2k (The shortest thing I’ve written recently lol)

(A/N: Idk why I wrote this but I’m posting it anyways lmao)

Your lips formed a pout as you struggled to adjust the pillow beneath your shirt, stretching the cotton material past its limit as you folded the cushion to stay in place, gasping excitedly with your arms sprawled to marvel at your masterpiece.

You were afraid to admit that you’ve been feeling a bit hormonal recently, so much so that you could only dream and fantasize about lying in bed with your boyfriend with both your hands cradling your pregnant belly, months passing by before you can finally hold the creation you made together, spending every second arguing about who it looked more like. You just hoped they had his hair.

A content sigh left your lips as your hand fondled your fake stomach, no sign of life in the pillow but you still looked at it in your bedroom’s mirror as if it was the baby you always wanted. You felt your eyes begin to water, vision going blurry while you averted your gaze from the plush “fetus” in hopes it’ll clear the fictional scenarios you formed in your head.

“Damn hormones,” You sniffled, shutting your eyes and hoping to regain your composure and get back to your normal mindset before Chan got home but, once you calmed yourself down and peered back up, your eyes landed on the pair of said man’s through the mirror, a loud gasp leaving you as you hurriedly removed the pillow from your top and threw it back to your bed, face hot with embarrassment as he looked at you with amusement.

“Y-you’re finished practice already? That was fast.” You awkwardly stammered, trying to keep eye contact but wanting to hide now that he saw you in what you’d describe as your least graceful moment.

“We actually focused on recording today, since Jisung made a new verse and wanted to see who’s voice fit better with it but- uhm-“ He pointed between you and the pillow, eyebrow cocked with a smirk on his lips as he approached you.

“What were you just doing?”

You wanted to die at that moment. How were you supposed to explain you were teetering between a sexually feral beast one day to a depressed baby wanting… well, baby, the next?

A baby. That was the only way to describe yourself. You were angry about everything while crying over nothing, similar to a fussy infant that just needed a nap. You really felt pathetic, and the thought of admitting it to him made you feel even more pitiful. He’d just make fun of you like he is now, and you’d go back to watching baby and puppy videos on your phone to feed your maternal desires for just a moment in the everlasting day. Why was this happening to you? What the hell was wrong with you?

“Hey, don’t cry. Look at me.” Chan cooed, cupping your face until your eyes were fixated on his concerned ones, both of you ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between your cheek and his palm from your tears.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. And I’m just constantly thinking about babies, and sex, but mostly babies, and every time I think about either, I just want to cry more.” Your voice cracked slightly as you continued to sob, mainly because his same playful smile returned.

“Stop laughing at me!” You protested, only to be guided into his chest, hands roaming from your face to your arms and finally around your shoulders to keep you in place.

“I’m not, I promise I’m not! It’s just cute.”

“How is this cute, Chris?” You asked, voice muffled against his plain black t-shirt.

“Well, you’re ovulating. And when you ovulate, you can sometimes get a bit emotional and… aroused. So wanting to have babies and make them is completely natural, and I would never make fun of you for wanting either.” He explained in his typical fashion, his awkwardness making the situation a lot less mortifying for you and his accent more prominent than usual, something you noticed happened when he usually ranted. It was comforting. But one thing made your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head tilting back until you were staring at him once more.

“Wait, how did you know I was ovulating? I didn’t even know that.”

“I try to keep track of it so we don’t end up having any pregnancy scares but, seeing as you’re ready to be a mom, I guess I don’t have to anymore.” The mischievous tone returned and you immediately pushed him away, pointing a finger at him in a silent warning.

“No! We both already have too many responsibilities, Chris. You know we don’t have time for a baby.”

“I can multitask and I’ll make time. C’mon, (Y/n/n),” You yelped as he spun you around in a dramatic fashion, wrapping an arm around your waist as his other hand massaged your abdomen, pulling your back flush to his chest as his head rest in the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll be really cute pregnant. Plus, we’ll have a little boy or girl calling us mommy and daddy, they’ll be busy playing with their uncle Changbin and Felix on weekends while we make them a brother or sister.” He tried to coax, lips pressing to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to the spot just behind your ear, a breathy sigh leaving you as you shut your eyes in pleasure.

“You’re an idiot,”

“I’m just determined.” He corrected you, hands sliding to rest on your waist only to ease up your shirt to massage your sides, your hand flying behind you to tangle your fingers into his hair for some sort of anchor through the teasing touches that sent your hypersensitivity into overdrive.

“Are you sure we’re ready? We’ve never really talked about this.” You said, slowly twisting in his arms and maneuvering yourself to face him, drawing him away from your now slightly damp neck and his eyes bore into yours with a dark gaze that screamed lust and need.

“The day I met you, I told myself ‘we’re going to get marry and have five beautiful kids’. I haven’t changed my mind on that and I think the sooner we start, the better.” Chan said in a serious tone, the kind of voice that expressed nothing but authoritativeness and certainty, a chill running down your spine and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, not wanting to seem too shy now at the slightly lewd confession but not wanting to pounce on him then and there and kill the romantic atmosphere.

“I-I guess we should get started then.”

*----*----*----*

You thought everything was said and done, that you’d be nude with your boyfriend rolling around the sheets of your bed in a desperate attempt of procreating one of your soon-to-be many kids, but the excitement you felt just moments ago slowly died as you lied naked on your back, rolling your eyes to your side to see Chan equally as bare with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Chris,” You said sweetly, trying to hide your bitter tone as he refused to look in your direction.

“I know, babe, I’m just trying to find which position would be best for conceiving.”

“Literally any position! We just need the sperm to meet the eggs!” You growled, eyes somehow managing to widen more as he still ignored you, a pout on your lips and a huff leaving your nose.

“I’m taking a nap.”

“Okay, I’ll be done soon.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your back on him, doubting your bundle of joy would be in you any time soon.

[keorami]

So you know when you wanna write a funny situation but you realise that you have to come up with said funny situation? Yeah... I forgot that my sense of humor is atrocious, but at least I tried...? I couldn't focus on one long story so I decided to write several short ones instead! Hope you enjoy!

"I have the feeling you're not enjoying this sleepover very much."

Dream did not, in fact, enjoy this 'sleepover', because not only did it remind him that his only way out of this hell was stuck in here with him, but said way out had been nothing but insufferable since he got here.

"Is this about the bell-"

"You could have gotten us out of here."

Oh yeah, said way out also wasted their one chance at escaping on a fucking bell. Dream hadn't felt such anger in... he doesn't remember actually. He didn't get to feel angry often in here.

"Listen, it was a very important matter-"

He stopped listening at that point. It was the same tirade every time about clout and viewership and whatever that he honestly could care less about. Staring at and counting the cracks in the obsidian seems like a very interesting activity.

"Hey, are you listening?"

1... 2... 3...

"Dude."

4... 5... 6...

"How long are you gonna ignore me?"

7... 8- wait, didn't he count that one already?

"Look at me at least."

No, he doesn't think he will. Because then the bell will be within view, and Dream knows that if he wasn't so pathetically weak, either the bell or Techno would have been thrown into the lava by now. But he is, so he'll throw the next best thing: his body. And fuck whatever the pig might have to say about it.

"Dreeeeeam-"

"WHAT."

He whipped his head so fast his neck hurt a little. He was fully prepared to... well now he doesn't remember, because of all faces he expected Techno to make...

The fuckboy face wasn't one of them.

"Nooo don't be angry, you're so sexy haha."

Oh God, he just died and went to limbo didn't he?

He wasn't sure when exactly he collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in a mix of wheezes and coughing, but Techno was now hovering over him in panic.

"Dream please don't die, I don't want the last thing you ever saw to have been that face-"

Oh, if there was one thing he would make sure not to forget, it would have been that face.

~~~~~

"Man, I'm starving. When do we get food in here again?"

"Um, I don't know really. I guess whenever Sam is in the mood?"

"What."

"Yeah."

Sam hasn't dropped food a single time since he was locked in here. Well, add 'food' to the basic human rights Dream isn't getting. They're really treating this like a bucket list aren't they?

"It's... You'll get used to it."

Dream gives him some potatoes from his inventory, to Techno's absolute delight. At least Sam has great taste, he'll give him that. But...

"...They're raw."

"Well, obviously."

Listen. He loves potatoes. He'd say he loves them to death, if he could die. No matter how you cook them, they turn out delicious. But raw? He'd only eat them raw if it was a life-or-death situation AND he somehow had no source of heat at his disposal, and the likelihood of that situation happening is practically zero. So yeah, he doesn't like to eat them raw.

"And that's all you get?"

"If you can't eat it-"

Ah, those famous words. Now, he's fairly certain that Dream didn't mean it as a challenge, but at this point Techno is just too competitive to see it any other way. Look, you don't get to his level by being passive, okay? So it's perfectly reasonable.

What wasn't reasonable was the taste of this potato because what in the Blood God's name is this.

"What the hell is this."

"...A potato?"

"No, this is a fucking travesty."

And what a sight it was, the Technoblade swearing and ranting about potatoes, of all things. Dream could only last until "mossy cobblestone tastes better than this dry ass, stinky ass garbage" before he lost it. You gotta give him credit for lasting this long at least. Technoblade was too busy ranting to care either way.

~~~~~

This can't be happening.

"Dream."

"What."

He tries to sound neutral, but Techno can hear the snicker in his voice.

"You don't have to do this."

Surely he can reconsider-

"On the contrary, it has to be done."

Dream places a single card on the pile, which happens to be his last one. A Wild Draw 4, to rub salt into the wound. Techno decides that ending on that card should be illegal.

"Remember the deal. No bell for the rest of the day."

"NOOOOOOO!"

Unfortunately, that had been the condition he had to agree to in order to get Dream to play. Because apparently he was "ringing it all the fucking time and it was driving me crazy". There's that, and the threat that Dream would jump in the lava again if he refused. So clearly he had a choice in the matter.

He knew that there was a chance he could lose... but he had deemed it low enough to ignore it. How could he not expect the resident chessmaster of the SMP to utterly trounce him in UNO? He was a fool, and now he has to think about how to make up for the lost clout and money.

At least, judging from the quiet snickers, someone finds his misery funny. He finds consolation in knowing that he may have lost the battle but he won the war. In a way.

~~~~~

"So I almost got mauled to death but that was how I met Steve."

Dream stares at him the way Phil does when he does something particularly outlandish and he fails to see why.

"Can I ask a question."

"Sure."

"Why would the first thing you do upon running into a starving polar bear be hugging it?"

Of course he would question it, because obviously Techno's superior intellect is confusing to the common mind. He just really likes animals, okay? Steve's fur looked so soft and fluffy he just had to touch it, he almost got his face torn off and Phil never let him live that down. But he'll sooner accept governments than let Dream know that. He doesn't want to embarrass himself too much.

"See Dream, I live by a simple philosophy."

"Long live anarchy?"

"No. Well yes, but not just that."

Dramatic silence.

"Any animal is huggable if you aren't a coward."

Dream chokes on his potato, the only one he had eaten today, and Techno worries for a second before he realises that Dream is actually laughing.

"Tech- what-" His body is shaking. "-what is wrong with you??"

"It all started when I was born-"

~~~~~

And it's enough to send Dream rolling on the ground. It wasn't even that funny, but he supposes that prison does a number on you, and Dream's sense of humor was already terrible to begin with.

...Okay, now he had to make sure that the teletubby didn't laugh himself to death.

At the end of the day- at least Techno assumes it's the end of the day, he doesn't know how trustworthy his internal clock is anymore- the two inmates of Pandora's Vault are about ready to fall asleep, but Techno has one last thing to do before that.

"Dream, come here for a minute."

Said man gives him such a wary look that he almost feels insulted.

"...Why?"

"I won't bite, ya know."

"That's... debatable."

Bruh.

"Just get over here."

And Dream complies without any further complaints. Techno hopes he didn't sound too harsh, but his cellmate wasn't shivering uncontrollably, so he thinks he's in the clear.

"What?"

Techno lays his cape down on the very uncomfortable obsidian floor. Seriously, laying down for an hour is enough to make his joints ache. 0/10 would not recommend. How did Dream- right, he doesn't have a choice.

"What are you doing?"

"Making this prison less of a living hell. Come lay down."

"...I'm fine."

Why are you being so difficult, Techno wants to ask, even though he can guess the answer. When was the last time anyone did something remotely nice for him without any catch? Especially in here?

"Stop being difficult and sleep with me already."

Silence.

"...Pft."

"You know what I meant."

In his defense, everyone has their moments, and his usually don't happen that often.

"Stop being so difficult and-"

"Just... get over here. My cape is really soft."

"Is that why you wear it all the time?"

"...Among other things."

But mostly because it was really soft.

Dream still seemed apprehensive about the whole thing, and while usually Techno would have respected his wishes and left him be... the sight of his rival curling up in a corner of the cell, obviously trying to not aggravate his injuries as he did, was saddening even to him. Prime, he's really not good at this... but Dream probably definitely needs it.

So he pulls his roommate into a side hug, which is honestly the best he can manage without ruining his image. It's awkward, Dream is way too stiff, and maybe now would be the time to say something before embarrassment kills either or both of them. Something reassuring, comforting to help Dream relax in his presence for example.

"This is gonna be the best sleepover you've ever had."

...But the day he stops relying on humor for any kind of social interaction is the day it'll either stop working or get him killed.

"...This is so stupid."

And today was not that day.

Dream lets out a laugh, shaky but genuine, and relaxes. Techno sees that as a win. Since he's stuck here for a while, might as well make his favorite teletubby's life in here more bearable.

And it's finally over! It only took me... *looks at calendar* ...time is an illusion. Idk if I'm really happy with this, but on the bright side, it's... done? Now I really wanna continue that endersmile fanfic as I got some ideas, hopefully it won't take as long? God I am a writing disaster

Also if you saw any mistakes... no you didn't :)

[legoshi-plz]

Dude if it’s horny hour can we do one with Louis. Like maybe his s/o went into heat for the first time with him. Maybe she’s a carnivore and this is his first time dealing with a carnivore in heat

Okay hold up I absolutely LOVE THIS wtf why didn’t I get to this sooner!?!?! Also this started off as headcanons and somehow just naturally morphed into a fic??? I liked both haves so I just kept it!

Warning: Smut (N/SFW 18+)

//////////////

- Louis is an Alpha in this scenario but the catch is he’s a Herbivore Alpha!Male which is pretty Apex (idk if I’m using that word right??) amongst Herbivores but still nowhere near Carnivore Alphas if you catch my drift.

- So his significant other is a Carnivore Omega! And so far in the relationship, you’ve been on suppressives to deal with your heat. Which is what most Omegas do because it’s just easier that way.

- Well things have been a little hectic in your life lately. You’d recently moved in with Louis since you were practically over there constantly anyway and somewhere during the move you’d misplaced your suppressants. At the time you didn’t think it was a big deal since your heat was still a couple of weeks away.

- You went to your doctor, hoping to just get a refill be on your way but of course doctors never believe Omegas and denied your request, saying you had to fill out a Lost Claim form, and wait for it to be approved and whatnot, a process that would take weeks. You filled out the form you knew deep down it wasn’t going to go through in time.

- So you began mentally preparing yourself. You knew you couldn’t involve Louis in this. You loved him with all of your heart but he was still a Herbivore. You couldn’t control yourself during your heats, it was dangerous for him to even be in the same vicinity as you, let alone try to help you with it.

- You also knew asking one of your Carnivore Alpha friends to help you out was a no go. Louis was still an Alpha in his own right and like most Alphas, he wore his pride on his sleeve. That in combination with his Shishigumi position, he’d have any animal that tried to assist you killed. No, you would definitely just have to handle this on your own.

- Your old apartment, though pretty barren except for the furniture that came with it, was where you’d have to tough this out. Thankfully, your lease wasn’t up until the end of the month so it was the perfect place to isolate yourself.

- The day your heat was due to start, you waited until Louis left for work then you skipped out with a duffle bag full of everything you’d need to survive the next couple of days. You knew you should texted Louis to let him know you were okay but you didn’t trust him not to double back so you left an old school handwritten note on his pillow that read “Be back in a few days.”

- Needless to say when Louis came home to find that, along with some of your things missing, he automatically assumed the worst. Were you leaving him? What had he done so awful that you needed physical space and time away from him? Were you in trouble? Were you... cheating on him? The last thought threw him into an utter rage and he immediately began blowing up your phone only for it to go straight to an automated messaging system.

- Louis began to panic, he called in a few connections and eventually discovered you’d been seen entering your old apartment earlier this week. Without a second thought, Louis grabbed his car keys and was at your place in no time flat.

- The second he opened the door, he was overwhelmed with your scent. This was far more intense than any heat he’d ever experienced with a Herbivore and almost instantly triggered his rut.

- He found you curled up in your old bedroom in a flimsy, barely thrown together nest, clutching your abdomen in pain. He immediately picked you up and carried you down to his car.

- “There’s no way I’m letting you ride out your heat in that pathetic excuse of a nest.” Louis grumbled, buckling you into the front seat. As he himself climbed into the drivers seat and drove off, he thought the pain of your situation would keep you preoccupied until the two of you arrived home. He was mistaken.

- The entire drive home, you were pawing him through his clothes, trying to convince him to take you right then and there. Getting you inside wasn’t any easier as you kept trying to rip his clothes off of him. By the time he threw you on the bed, you were full on begging him to ruin you.

- Louis wanted you so badly but he was hesitant. There was a reason you’d gone through such essesive lengths to avoid having him help you through your heat. You’d lied to him, holed yourself up in your old empty place, even endured this physical pain alone just to avoid asking him for help. A small part of him felt hurt. Perhaps you didn’t want him to breed you after all...

- Louis pushed his own feelings to the side. You were in agony and you needed relief, and he was the only one who could provide that for you now. So without further to do, he stripped you of your clothes, your feverent hands rushing to help him.

- The second you spread your legs for him, Louis could feel his resolve crumbling as the scent of your hormones flooded his senses. It was a beautiful smell, so sweet and mouthwatering it made him physically groan in hunger.

- He brought two fingers to your lips, shoving them in your mouth roughly. “Suck.” You followed his orders immediately, whining when he removed them. He made up for it immensely though, when he slid them inside your aching entrance one at a time.

- He fingerfucked you into a sobbing mess, begging him for more, meanwhile he was fighting the onslaught of his own rut tooth and nail. Despite his best efforts, it still kicked in with brute force, his entire body igniting in passion.

- He wanted to take the noble route, he really really wanted to take the noble route but him jerking himself within an inch of his life while pumping you with his fingers just wasnt cutting it. He needed to be inside you and he needed it now.

- He pulled you on top of him so that you could dictate the pace and at least have some semblance of control. That was his downfall.

- You sank right onto him, riding him like mad while clawing at the fur of his chest. Louis tried getting you to slow down by steadying your hips but it was a fruitless effort. You were consuming him completely, your soft walls sucking him in greedily. You were so tight, Louis knew he didn’t stand a chance at lasting with you and he was right. Louis came immediately, his knot locking into place within you.

- You shuddered on top of him, the tightness of his knot stretching your core finally slowing you down. Louis sat up some, adjusting himself so that he could suckle you, taking your oversensitive, engorged nipples into his mouth.

“Feeling better?” He asked switching to the other neglected nipple. Your eyes seemed to finally lose the clouded haze they possessed earlier and you looked like you could actually concentrate with his knot locked deep inside you. Louis knew he didn’t have long before the swell went down and the two of you were back at it again, slaves to your own hormones.

“Louis, baby, I’m so sorr-“

“Save it Y/N. Just... just tell me why you ran,” Louis asked so you explained the entire situation to him and how you didn’t want to hurt him in case you lost control. Louis listened intently, not saying a word the entire time. Once you finished, he simply hummed in acknowledgment that he’d heard you before sliding you off of him. You hadn’t even noticed that his knot had ceased its swelling enough for you two to separate.

“We’re going to have a serious conversation about this once we’re in our right minds.” Louis said digging in the closet for something, then returning with a silk tie the two of you had implemented in the bedroom previously on more than one occasion. “But for now, I’m about to show you just how much you could never hurt me.”

“However, before we do this, you have to tell me how you want it. Rut or not, I have enough self control to back off if you tell me to,” Louis said sincerely yet you could tell by the way his dick was already standing at full attention this was harder for him than he let on. “If you don’t want me, or if you think I won’t be.... enough, then I-”

“Louis that’s not the case at all! Of course I want you! In any capacity! But not if there’s a chance that I’ll.... th-that I could....”

“Y/N, look at me,” you did and it was as beautiful a sight as always. Despite his herbivore status he was far from fragile, his frame filling out in adulthood to showcase the power and authority male deer held in the animal kingdom.

“Being devoured is far from being a fear of mine.” He glanced down at his prosthetic, “and besides, you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried. You’re too weak and small, I could easily overpower you.”

As if for emphasis, Louis grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so that his straining member was pressed against your exposed entrance. Your legs went to instinctively wrap around his waist but he halted the action, opting instead to throw them over his shoulder. He had to bend forward since your legs were too short otherwise for the position, which brought him face to face with you.

“Now I’m only going to ask this one more time. How. Do. You. Want it?” His breath fanned over you as he slid himself inside you, a snug fit made easier by how wet you were for him already.

You were mewling beneath him and Louis couldn’t deny the sense of power that washed over him. He felt his Alpha instincts kicking into high gear and before you could even answer, he had begun his own pace.

He was pounding into you like his life depended on it, the sounds you were making only adding fuel to his fire. You were begging him to claim you, mark you up, make you his. The bond mark on your neck where he had long since mated you called to him. But he resisted. The two of you had all night, there was no need to rush. Besides, if he sank his teeth into you every time your scent glands called to him, he’d end up tearing your throat open.

“Fuck Louis, I’m about to explode. Please let me cum, I need your knot to cum,” you cried, slapping his forearm in a weak attempt to tap out. But your disheveled state alone was enough to drive him over the edge, your automatic submission to him making his Alpha practically preen in satisfaction.

He came for the second time that night, the familiar feeling of his knot expanding and filling you to the brink becoming addictive to him. He kissed your ankle before letting your trembling legs fall from his shoulders to take purchase on his waist. He ran his fingers through the soft fur of your thighs as a way to soothe you as you came down from the high of your own orgasm.

The two of you sat there, taking in each other’s forms until you finally broke the silence, “You forgot to tie me up.”

Louis glanced over at the long forgot silk tie on the bed. Though he’d suspected this might be the case, he knew for sure now he’d never need the garment. With the excess strength and power his rut gave him along with your natural submission to him as an Alpha, all thoughts of you hurting him were quickly negated.

“I have a feeling we won’t be needing that,” he growled, leaning down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

[amesstm]

You Should’ve Come to Shiratorizawa

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: idk because I’m too lazy to check Word. So maybe 2K?

Summary: after losing his chance at going to nationals in his second-year, Oikawa sees a different reason why he should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa.

Warnings: nothing but fluff

A/N: inspired by ushijima’s favorite phrase lol

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This was Oikawa’s moment. It was his second-year and he must make it to nationals. No - he would make it to nationals. He absolutely had to, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. All the days, hours, minutes, and pure seconds he dedicated to this match would mean something. Iwaizumi had to stop the determined setter from training himself to the point of breaking. Yet, it would all be worth it in this match.

Oikawa remembers the monster Ushijima Wakatoshi, and how that monster looked down on him in his last year of junior high. The mere memory of inferiority made him grind his teeth and furrow his eyebrows with his arms crossed. Even when they had a practice match together, Shiratorizawa still won. And that same condescending expression still haunted him.

“You’re going to break your teeth.”

Oikawa turned around, knowing that it would be Iwaizumi anyways. He plastered his classic, fake smile onto his face. In a sing-song voice, he replied, “Iwa-chan! You do care!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and smacked him on the back of the head. “Just don’t get yourself out of the game before it even starts.”

Not wanting to hear another lecture, Oikawa nodded and returned to glaring at the doors that had yet to open.

~

On the other side, the predicted-champions were stretching. Ushijima laid out on the floor, stretching out his lower back. Usually, Tendo would’ve joined him but he decided to try to progress his gymnastics career. Did you understand what position he was in with his head in between his legs that grew closer and closer to the floor? No. But did you know that was something Tendo would do? Yep.

“‘Tori, you need to win the match so I can win a bet,” you said, with an imaginary halo hovering over your head. You even tilted your head to meet his eyes as he peered at you from upside down.

Being Shiratorizawa’s manager meant that you had an insight into their training; so, you knew you’d be eating well tonight. The comment wasn’t filled with any tone of concern. After all, this was Shiratorizawa.

“Nani?” Your redheaded friend asked, raising his head to look at you. Tendo’s wide eyes stared at you and into you, serious as Ushijima. Then he burst into his warm persona with a chocolate-sweet smile, “You put a bet on us to win? That’s so sweet!”

“Of course, I did! You guys always win,” you replied like it was a fact. As of this moment, Shiratorizawa hasn’t lost a match this season. You were absolutely sure that they would beat Aoba Seijoh, too. They’ve done it before and it will happen again.

Finally, the doors opened.

The blue and white colors greeted you from across the court. Banners hoping to garner the attention of Oikawa Tooru, the pretty boy setter of their team, were waved around proudly and erratically. Girlish screams echoed through the gym as their team entered.

“They’re very loud,” Wakatoshi muttered under his breath. He glowered at the opposing cheer section, probably putting some people in the hospital from mere shock.

“That’s because they have a pretty boy to cheer for,” Tendo said, lightening the mood as Wakatoshi grew more and more annoyed at the noise.

Oikawa’s reputation for being ‘perfect’ was well-known, mostly amongst the girls. Clearly, the girls in the gym believed in that wholeheartedly. To you, it was annoying. After all, no one was perfect. It was even more annoying dealing with that personality in person. During the practice match, his ego took up half of the gym. Hopefully, he’d be humbled today.

“Didn’t you want Oikawa to come to Shiratorizawa?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Admittedly, you just loved seeing how riled up Wakatoshi got about the ordeal. It was one of the few times the statue showed emotion.

“He’s an amazing setter and would’ve performed to his highest level had he come to our team,” the ace explained without skipping a beat. His eagle eyes focused on the brunette from across the floor, poking holes in him. It seemed that the setter felt the intense stare, because he returned it before turning away with a reddened face immediately.

~

“They’re so loud already,” Iwaizumi complained as soon as they entered the gym. He tried his best to mask his distaste for the cheers, but the outrageous screams for Oikawa made it difficult. “Can you tell them to be quiet?”

“Of course not! They’re my fans and I love them,” Oikawa replied with his cutest smile as he waved to everyone. Squeals of excitement greeted him back, making him grin all the more from the attention to his ego.

“I think I see another fan,” Matsukawa teased, subtly pointing across the gym.

Oikawa’s eyes followed his finger and saw his worst nightmare. Shiratorizawa’s prized possession, Ushijima Wakatoshi, was staring holes into his very being. Oikawa shivered with fear, until his eyes narrowed in on the girl beside him.

Wow, she’s really pretty. Wait – I can’t hit on the enemy!

Turning red, he shifted away from the opposing team. Hanamaki quirked an eyebrow, “Finally realize your attraction towards Ushiwaka?”

Oikawa shivered with disgust, “I’m not attracted to him!”

“Oh?” Matsukawa cheekily smiled. He turned to Hanamaki, continuing, “I bet that he’s hitting on the manager.”

The setter’s ears perked up, “That’s their manager?”

“If you actually looked at your surroundings, you would’ve realized this sooner,” Iwaizumi stated with disappointment. He added, “She was at our practice match, too, Shittykawa.”

Choosing to ignore the obvious slander, Oikawa pouted and sighed, “Too bad she’s with the enemy.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, “Only you could care about that type of thing.”

“Get your head in the game,” the captain barked at the second-years, clearly annoyed that they were just goofing off instead of warming up.

“We’ll win,” Oikawa said before stretching. “We need to.”

~

As expected, Shiratorizawa won with flying colors, led by the genius that was Ushijima Wakatoshi. The match point started with a serve from Oikawa and ended with a powerful spike from Ushijima.

Across from the gym, you saw the setter crumble to the ground. Even with the distance, you could hear Oikawa’s heartfelt apologizes that he couldn’t land an ace service. Some tears were wiped away hastily with shame. Not even the reassurances from his fans stopped the waterfall.

Surprisingly, the pretty boy was an ugly cryer. Seeing him in this imperfect state made you not want to look away. Was all that ego just a show to hide his insecurities?

“Don’t feel bad for him,” Ushijima said, drawing you out of your haze. If anyone who didn’t know him overheard what he said, he would’ve sounded like a cold hearted victor without any humility. But you knew him and his meaning. “He should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.”

You sighed but still smiled. “I knew you’d say that.” Then, upon further inspection with your nose, you cringed, “Come on, you need to shower.”

After Coach Tanji gave his victory speech, the boys were dismissed to the locker room. As usual, you were left outside of the restrooms to wait. Fangirls whimpered over Oikawa’s melancholy state and even dared to suggest that Shiratorizawa tipped off the referee.

“If you think we needed bribes to win, then you know nothing about volleyball,” you defended your team, glaring at them like an eagle ready to snatch their prey. After watching these boys practice and endure yelling from their coach for hours on end, no mere suggestion of cheating or bribery would be tolerated.

As the girls opened their mouths to snap back at you, a different voice flew through the air. One that was noticeably deeper than these whiny pigeons. “As much as I hate to admit it, Shiratorizawa won fair and square.”

Of course, that voice belonged to Oikawa. You’ve heard his voice before. Most of the time, it would be higher pitched, flirtatious, and vibrant. Now, it was deeper, more serious, and grey.

“Thank you,” you muttered before being overrun by his fangirls who rushed to console him. You rolled your eyes. Reminding him of his loss wouldn’t make him feel better at all.

Yet, Oikawa perked up to the attention like a sunflower reaching for light. The usual tone of voice returned and his classic smile rose to his face. But when they were gone, the show drew to a close. The setter’s gaze turned to you. Something about it was sad and longing. He just couldn’t accept the fact, that along with this match’s victory, Ushijima had you, too.

“Oikawa,” a voice behind you rumbled. You turned to see a freshly showered Wakatoshi, who smelled infinitely better now. “You should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.”

The victim of this constant reminder grimaced and sighed from dejection. “Not this again.”

“You know that I’m right.”

“I could never go there with you, my enemy,” Oikawa spat and crossed his arms.

Should you be here? Probably not since it felt like a lovers’ quarrel but hey, free entertainment. You closed your eyes and leaned back on the bench, blocking out their voices. It was quite easy since you couldn’t rest well from the anxiety of the results for nationals these past few weeks.

Soon, you opened your eyes to find Ushijima gone and Oikawa staring at you. “Why did you go to Shiratorizawa?”

In reality, it was because you didn’t want to leave Tendo alone. Instead, you shrugged, “Good academics.”

“… so why are you with Ushijima?” Oikawa asked, ready to scrutinize your reason. A part of him wanted to know if you were actually single. Another part wondered how anyone could tolerate his presence.

Although you tried to hold yourself back, laughter poured from you. You tried to calm yourself down, but the idea of dating a literal statue with no social awareness - no matter how handsome - made you laugh once more.

Students from Shiratorizawa had a reputation of being stern - unless you were Tendo, of course. In fact, most Shiratorizawa students that Oikawa had the displeasure of meeting seemed that way. So, seeing someone loosely enjoying themselves brought you even closer to Oikawa’s type. Your laughter made him want to laugh, even if he didn’t know why you were laughing.

“I couldn’t date Ushijima,” you explained. “We don’t have the same sense of humor.”

Oikawa shifted to his side, slightly with relief. Subconsciously, he started preening himself. “I don’t think Ushijima can be funny.”

“No, no. He can be funny, but it’s mostly by accident,” you elaborated with a chuckle.

“I like your laugh,” Oikawa declared. You weren’t sure if it was a compliment, since it sounded more like he was telling himself of that fact.

You quirked an eyebrow, “You’re even weirder than I thought.”

“Hey, my team already bullies me enough!” Oikawa whined. Despite his little facade of being sad, he still couldn’t hold back his smile.

You giggled, “They bully you?”

“Over everything!” Oikawa stated with a show of his arms in defeat.

“I wouldn’t bully you,” you proclaimed with sincerity.

“You really are an angel,” Oikawa complimented with awe. “I wish you went to Aoba Josai.”

“Awh, really?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Oikawa nodded. Smirking, you chuckled, “Then, you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.”

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[koshicoast]

A few shinkami headcannons because I love them more than anything

Shinsou has a growth spurt and practically towers over Denki by their second year (for all intents and purposes, Shinsou has always been in class 1A)

Denki grows a little bit but not that much, he’s not complaining though, he gets Shinsou to grab stuff on the top shelve for him or has him hang up posters in higher places in his room (the only downside is that he has to get on his tippy toes for kisses but usually Shinsou will just bend down like a good boyfriend)

They go on dates every Sunday, It’s their day and it doesn’t matter what they’re doing as long as it’s just the two of them

They could be studying or doing homework or exercising or anything really and they’ll call it a date

The rest of the class knows better than to try and contact either boy on Sunday

“Normies worship Jesus on Sunday but I worship Shinsou” - Denki, at one point in time

Shinsou loves playing with denki’s hair, he buys different kinds of hair clips just to put them in denki’s hair

he just likes how the colors pop out

He especially likes to see purple hair clips in denki’s hair

Tbh it doesn’t have to be hair clips, it could be a scrunchie or a rubber band or a headband; as long as it’s purple it does wonders to shinsou’s heart

Denki likes playing with shinsou’s hair too but more than that he likes seeing Shinsou in yellow clothing

Shinsou doesn’t wear bright colors a lot usually sticking with black or cool tone colors

But when he does wear yellow, Denki just gets all mushy no matter how small it is

It could be yellow earrings or socks or something and Denki will wear a love sick expression all day

Despite being in the hero course, Shinsou still gets incredibly insecure about his quirk and how some people only see him as a villain

Denki, without fail or hesitation, tells Shinsou what a great hero he’s gonna be, he talks about how Shinsou is gonna inspire a new wave of underground heroes and how he’s gonna be some kid’s Aizawa one day and how proud he is of him (The first time he said that, it makes Shinsou sob. It makes denki cry too bc he’s a sympathetic crier so they just lay in bed holding eachother)

He also tells Shinsou how no matter who’s the number one hero, Shinsou will always have first place in his heart. And that Shinsou is just as much as any other hero out there and even a little more because he’ll be underground

Denki just loves his boyfriend so much and whoever planted the idea that some quirks are just made for evil is going to get electrocuted >:(

Denki will also pepper Shinsou in kisses saying things like ‘you are so kind’ ‘you’re an amazing person’ ‘I love you so much’ ‘You’re my hero’ and just a bunch of stuff so by the end of their heart to heart Shinsou is feeling a lot better

Denki gets insecure about how ‘dumb’ he is and how he’ll probably just end up hurting civilians or himself before he hurts a villain

Shinsou hates how that’s how Denki views himself because Denki is one of the kindest people in the world and doesn’t even realize it like the first time Denki told him that insecurity, Shinsou looked at him and was like ‘are you..you’re serious? Denks, You’re one of the most clever people I know’

Whenever Denki mentions it, Shinsou he just squeezes the blonde and lets him cry out his frustrations before telling him that ‘he’s not an idiot or stupid and that it’s okay not to understand something as fast as others and that it’s okay to learn differently and it’s okay’ (Shinsou will always try not to cry but a few tears fall anyways bc he just wants denks to be happy without feeling like he’s a fuckup)

Shinsou never lets Denki call himself an idiot or stupid, even in a joking way.

They don’t fight a lot because of their personalities like

Denki is a people’s person and is really in tune with other’s emotions and by default is a pacifist unless otherwise

Shinsou isn’t a people’s person but he’s observant due to his quirk bc of how he’s been treated in the past, he’s also good at picking up on people’s body language

Most times it’s just small disagreements and even then they communicate the best they can and try to compromise

If that doesn’t work then they’ll give each other space so the disagreement won’t turn into something ugly

They’ve only fought once and it was the worst (and best) thing for them

The fight happened after a mock rescue mission goes wrong and there were weeks of stress and tension leading up to it

It was messy and bad like really bad

“I just don’t get why you have to run into danger!” Denki screamed. The whole dorm could probably hear them but he didn’t care, not when his boyfriend was looking at him like he just lost his mind.

It was supposed to be a simple training exercise. Simple. Go in, defeat villains, rescue the ‘hostages’. It was not that simple.

*insert how badly the mission went and Shinsou ran towards the danger to help or smth idk*

It gets pretty rough between the two of them because they’re both pretty emotional people

Shinsou thinks denki doesn’t want him to be a hero and denki thinks Shinsou doesn’t want to be with him

It’s a lot of insecurities + stress + yelling

Denki is the first one to break, he’s a lot more emotionally sensitive than Toshi and everything is just crashing down and he hates it

“Do you just not want to be with me?!” He cries, unable to keep the tears at bay any more. He hates arguing with people, especially when that person happens to be his boyfriend. He gets it, he does! Toshi is training to become a hero and so is he but that doesn’t make it easier. Doesnt stop the shot of fear whenever he watches the other get hurt, doesn’t stop the late night self deprecation, doesn’t stop the anxiety he gets whenever he sees Toshi run head first into danger.

But he gets it and somehow it’s a bitter realization.

Because Hitoshi’s priority is the job they signed up for and Denki’s is Hitoshi.

The fight ends with tears on both their parts and they call it a night, too tired to scream anymore

They sleep in their own rooms that night

The next morning they agree to take a break, not a full break up, but some time away. Space away from each other to prioritize and think.

(Now ive seen fanfics where everyone picks denki over Shinsou and i hate that so fuck you, class 1A are both their friends and they’re all family and try and to help each other I will die with that statement)

Surprisingly the two most helpful people are Bakugou and Kirishima

(Actually not that surprising, they’re the longest couple in the whole class, dating immediately after Kamino)

Bakugou and denki have a heart to heart

“You’re both dumbasses” Katsuki sighs heavy, passing another tissue over to the sobbing blonde. He’s not good at these kinds of things, but Kirishima told him he could help the electric blonde more than he could so here he is. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just cry?” He asks, not without a hint of worry though. He pretends to ignore it.

So denki tells him everything and his insecurities

Oh. Yeah, Kirishima was right.

“You think I’m an idiot” Denki mutters quietly, harshly rubbing his eyes.

“No” The older blonde shakes his head, plopping down on the bed next to the other. He doesn’t turn to meet yellow eyes, his own trained on the All Might poster hanging directly across from them. He feels Pikachu’s curious gaze on him so he decides to elaborate more, knowing the sooner he helps the sooner he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore. It’s totally not because he’s gotten soft. Absolutely not.

“Trust me, Zombie Eyes looks at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. It’s disgusting to watch.” He crinkles his nose in disgust earning a small laugh. “People like him and I, we gotta work twice as hard. Not saying that no one else does but it’s different.” He stresses the last word. “People like Ei or Deku or even you, people already see you as good so all you gotta do is get stronger. They don’t question your character, your morals, they don’t look down on you for having a weakness. People like Zombie Eyes and I though?we gotta work hard just to prove that we’re good. That we were meant to become heroes. Every action we do is put under a microscope and analyzed.” He explains.

“We’re assholes by default, It’s how we were raised. Not saying it as an excuse though. He was in the shitty system and I had shitty parents, no adult taught us shit like love or how to properly deal with feelings.”

Stupid Deku tried with him but he didn’t even know how to deal with his own much less some angry blond kid’s.

He takes a deep breath, pushing back faint memories of his childhood. The younger hasn’t said a word but he can tell he’s listening so it’s fine. “We can’t just turn off how we are. If it’s frustrating for you and Ei, It’s worse for us. Like we know logically that we’re good people, that we changed but that’s now how our brain sees it. We push ourselves because that’s all we know how to do, it proves to us and everyone else that we bled for our spot here. That we made it. Having friends is hard because we compare ourselves to them and draw our own conclusions to their actions. Being nice? Our brain says it’s a trap. Showing some human fucking decency? Our shitty brain says it’s an act. Being in a relationship? Laughable. We’re just villains pretending to play heroes to everyone else.”

He takes another deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the poster, flashbacks to their first year briefly passing in his head. Okay yeah, not going down that route. He looks over, making eye contact. He wonders if this is how Kirishima feels whenever he’s trying to cheer him up. Wonders if it’s just as hard. This better be worth it, everyone has been miserable. (Shitty thing about having been through life and death situations together is that everyone has bonded and become close like a family so when one of them is sad it’s like everyone is fucking sad.) (He loathes it because even he gets worried.)

“But despite that he still loves you.” He says softly, almost whispering like he’s telling the other a secret. “Fights his demons to hold your hand and all that shit”

Shinsou loves him? Loves him?

“How do you.. how do you know?” Denki whispers, throat sore. “We fought so badly last night, we were screaming at eachother.”

“He treats you the same way I treat Ei.” He answers,

“He changed his priorities around to try and accommodate for another person in his life, you became more important than training or studying. He takes days off to be with you, cuts his studying short if you need a break. It might not seem much to others but for him that’s huge. He came in with this one track mind but then you came along and he scrambled to balance everything. And then you two got your shit together and started to go out and I’m pretty sure he got scared”

“Scared?” Denki asks, the thought almost funny to him.

“I did.” Bakugou admits as Denki’s eyes grow wide.

“I was petrified. When Ei started to become more important than hero work, I freaked. It’s not that loverboy is choosing being a hero over you, It’s because he doesn’t understand that he can have both. He thinks everything important is a choice- that if you want something you have to give something up. He chooses hero work and he loses you. He chooses you and he loses hero work.”

“But he’s not going to lose me or hero work”

“Kinda sounded like you did give him an ultimatum though”

The realization hits him like cold water.

Shinsou gets a similar talk with Kirishima

It helps, a lot

They don’t immediately go back to eachother, instead spending the week with their everyone else and just taking time for themselves

Shinsou knocks on Denki’s door Sunday morning and they finally talk things out

It’s also the first time they say ily!!

Anyways after that fight they work harder on communicating especially when it comes to things like hero work

It’s not perfect bc their dumb traumatized teens but they’re trying and they know their lil family will always be there

I haven’t slept but yes thanks for sticking around if you’re reading this

If ur interested in shinsou’s talk with Kirishima lmk

[gigglinggoblin]

Whisper Drinkers: No More Words

Image used with permission from the lovely and fantastically talented Cody Darkstalker! Go check out her gorgeous collection on her Twitter, Instagram and Onlyfans!

[pov: anygirl, femdom, undead but sweet, nsfw, hypnosis, fantasy, intelligence reduction, pet play, headpats, leghumping, consensual, but you know maybe don’t actually drain your partner’s thoughts without asking them irl idk you should tell them if you’re a vampire thing that drinks words is all I’m saying]

"U-Um, so, so maybe I'm talking too much," Ami whimpered, as the mysterious woman next to her on the bed reached over, took her by the hand, and began to delicately caress it, running long and slender fingertips over Ami's palm and smiling slyly up at her, "it's just th-that I'm, um, well, see, I've never—never had anyone in my room before, is all."

The raven-haired beauty smiled up at her, hearts dotting her cheeks like freckles, luscious lips parted in a tempestuous pout. Her pretty jewelry caught the room’s rosy light so dazzlingly. So glamorous and glimmery...

Ami squirmed and barely held in a squeak as the woman beamed and scooted a little closer. She reached up and affectionately stroked Ami's cheek.

Then her hand slipped down to tug at the neckline of Ami's modest blouse.

"Oh!" Ami bit her lip, excitement trickling through her almost as fast as the red rushing to her cheeks. "I-I mean, well, see, of course I—" Her voice nearly broke as she felt her hand being guided to the woman's breast, guided to rest there, to gently feel the softness of the woman's skin, such a pretty hue of rosy-pink in the light.

"—it's not my room, of course," she corrected, cheeks burning, wiggling as the woman started undoing buttons on the blouse, undressing her even as she babbled. Why can’t I stop talking? Please, gods, let me stop talking.

"I mean, it is, because—well, I paid f-for the room, it's an inn, obviously. It's just tha—<i>aaaaat</I>—" She practically mewled as she felt her blouse being tugged away, as the woman leaned in even closer, and she breathed in that sweet minty perfume. Oh, fuck, this lady smelled so... so nice...

"Just that," she panted, but her words were scattering to the winds as those soft, luscious, pouty lips settled on her neck and began to kiss slowly, sweetly, indulgently across her skin, "just that, um, I mean, I-I've... I've, um... never..."

She felt a hand on her side, and without thinking, Ami allowed herself to be steered so she could be pushed back onto the bed.

Her head settled onto the pillow, and she was squirming and blushing and whimpering as she now felt the mysterious woman's cool, plush weight on her, pinning her to the bed, as those lips smacked indulgently along her neck and jawline. "... n-never," she whimpered, marveling at the softness of the breast as she squeezed and fondled it, "never... with..."

She trailed off into a moan as those wonderful kisses reached the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, as her sensible bra was undone to join the blouse beneath her.

Her head was starting to feel so... so bubbly. So fizzy. She actually giggled as she felt the woman's fingers running through her hair, stroking her with the utmost gentleness. "Oh, um, g-gosh," she gasped, wriggling, "you're... p-petting me l-like I'm s-some kind of... um... um... umm..."

Kitten. Puppy. Bunny. Pet. Silly girl who needs to be comforted and soothed. She struggled to form the words, desperate to fill the silence, but no sooner had the thoughts bubbled up into her mind than they were gone. She blinked dazedly, bubbles popping throughout her fizzy pink mind.

The kisses paused. The woman pulled up and blinked innocently down at her, parting those soft, kissable lips in a seductive pout.

Ami stared up into those eyes. Stared at those lips. A little whimper escaped her, but she found she didn’t... didn’t quite know what to say right now.

But even as she was given a brief reprieve from the kisses, Ami squirmed, feeling some... other attentions getting a lot more pronounced. That other hand was not being idle. Long, slender, delicate fingers ran over her breasts, groping, fondling, stroking in dainty spirals around her nipples.

Ami shivered. Even more tantalizingly, the strange woman's knee was placed right between Ami's thighs so... so perfectly, and the thought occurred to her that it would be so easy to just kind of... grind...

Her words melted away, and she giggled, quite forgetting exactly what she'd been trying to say. "Th-This feels... nice..." she mumbled, as more bubbles of pink pleasure popped in her mind, as she found herself grinding more and more overtly, unable to remember why she would ever hold back.

She let out a moan, and oh, gods, moaning felt so good... so much better than talking...

The woman smiled and cooed her pleasure with Ami, one of the first sounds, Ami realized dumbly, she'd heard the woman make so far. And then she forgot why this was strange, because the lady’s voice was so pretty, and knowing her lover was pleased just made Ami want to grind and hump harder as those kisses returned to her neck, her breasts, so soft and sweet and indulgent, and Ami mewled and whined happily.

She could no longer remember much of anything, actually, aside from feeling good. She humped the strange woman's leg like a wifwolf in heat, moaning and panting, because why would she need to babble and prattle when she could be making cute horny noises like those that seemed to please the woman so well?

She beamed and cooed and wriggled happily as the woman rose up slightly, those glowing crimson eyes shining like twin sunsets, so pretty, so happy with Ami.

Ami was being a good girl, Ami knew, even if her lover couldn't say it. And that realization was the sweetest feeling of all.

And Ami giggled and squealed and bounced and ground against the leg as she came, came under her skirt like a good girl, and made even more adorable noises in the process.

She was panting, red-faced, gasping for breath. She was drowning in the pink mist. Drifting in the fizzy pink bubbles.

But... she was still horny, she realized dimly, even in afterglow.

So, so horny.

She stared up into those bright lights and smiled dreamily as her beautiful pale lover leaned down for the softest of kisses, the stranger’s lips pillowy and fulsome, her own sighs of bliss impossibly faint but sending Ami into a daze of pleasure.

Ami wrapped her arms around her lover and moaned into the kiss, and happily allowed her inner thoughts to dissolve, for a time, into pure, sweet nothings.

The pale woman no longer felt cold. But maybe Ami was just blushing hot enough for the both of them now.

~ ~ ~ ~

Whisper drinkers are a rare and unusual form of vampire that drink not blood, or cum, or milk, but words themselves. Said to arise from those who died lost to their own worries and anxieties, the whisper drinker is often considered a benevolent spirit, as far as any of the Dead can be described as such. They are often drawn to the worried, tired or anxious, and with their kisses, they slowly ease the thoughts away, granting their lovers a brief reprieve, comfort and affection.

Spirit Rangers consider whisper drinkers to be very low-priority targets, though it is something of a controversial subject whether whisper drinkers truly understand what they are doing. Some argue that the whisper drinker acts as a nearly elemental being, purely occupied with her instincts, and cares nothing for those she lies with. Others, particularly those who form relationships with the mute undead, claim that there is far greater complexity to the whisper drinker than anyone truly understands.

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