#like girl why are you reading the cherry and chair fic just to say you have go discover youre a tranny and save 5 years of denial....

[martyrbat]

omg found the authentic 2013 house md deviantart yaoi in my search for the 2013 cannibalempaths yaoi....

[morerandombullshit]

Deserve (Vergil x f!Reader)

Rating: 18+ (MDNI but not like that stopped you guys anyway)

Pairing: Vergil x f!Reader

Summary: You finally left your abusive ex for good over him cheating on you, but it's still weighing on you. Vergil finds out and decides to comfort you in the only way he really knows how to comfort another person.

CW: Cheating, implied abuse, slightly angsty, bit of hurt/comfort, comfort sex (kinda??), unprotected sex (DO NOT TRY AT HOME) oral (f!rieceiving), face-sitting, consent, begging (only if you squint), creampies, slight dom/sub dynamics (or it's not slight idrk), dom Vergil/sub Reader, praise, degradation (just a little sprinkling only if you squint i promise), slight edging (ok maybe not so slight aha), clothes-ripping, semi-monster sex, aftercare pet names used: darling, sweetheart, pretty girl, perfect girl, good girl, my love, mine

Word count: 4573 (i totally didn't get too into this fic, no i didn't)

Note: I don't even fucking know how I came up with this idea (guess I was scrolling through too much DMC Boys x Reader smut and shit but oh well I have zero regrets), but in my notebook it's literally 18 and a quarter pages long and I was up until 2am finishing it off because I couldn't sleep and then I tried to show my best friend my writing at some point but he couldn't read my handwriting and shit (2am writing ftw, I guess)—

Anyways, enjoy this...explosion of smut, because I'm kinda on a little bit of a fluff writing kick/writer's block thing rn and idk when I'm gonna write more soooooo

Also Cameron Grey's I Want It All is basically the vibe for this oneshot, I recommend listening to it on repeat as you read— 

Sitting on the couch at Devil May Cry, you force yourself to focus on the magazine print in front of you. It's after hours and everyone's gone home—except for you and Dante's twin, Vergil. 

Vergil's cold and intimidating presence makes you feel like a storm is approaching every time he's around. But that body, though...shit. Strong jawline, short and slicked back silvery-white hair, ice blue eyes, cherry lips, toned body, ass like it was sculpted by a fucking ethereal being...Something lights like fire low in the pit of your stomach, and you shift a bit on the couch, still trying to focus on the magazine. Footsteps sound from across the room, and as the familiar scent of storms, fresh-cut grass and sage permeates your senses, that warmth between your thighs transmutes to a light throbbing.

Vergil steps into the room and you drop your eyes to the magazine, deciding it better to ignore that feeling right now. It's always happened whenever he's around—even when you were dating your abusive ex, but you push that thought away and continue hyperfocusing on the page in front of you. You toss your feet up onto an arm of the couch, leaning your head and putting the magazine at a tilted angle in the air.

"Y/N."

You sit up a bit, dropping the magazine. Vergil's always had a cold and imperious vibe around everyone, so you have to admit you're surprised he bothers to know your name. "Shit, didn't notice you." you reply, lying and hoping he doesn't know you are. "What is it?"

He walks a bit closer to you, grabbing a chair—his usual plastic one (he has threatened murder if someone else so much breathes on it before, now that you think about it)—and sitting in it, setting the Yamato against one of its armrests and letting it lean against the white plastic. "What're you doing here so late? I'd have thought you'd be at home right now."

At the mention of home, your stomach churns with nausea—the week before, you'd moved your stuff out of the apartment you had shared with your ex, and you're still trying to find a new place to live. Dante—after you begrudgingly told him why you were looking for a new place to live—said you could stay in Devil May Cry for as long as you need. 

Vergil doesn't know, though. But something in you wants to tell him, so you take a breath in and say, "I'm...between homes right now. Dante said I could stay here for as long as I need, and it's a better option than the streets."

"Would you mind if I asked why you're between homes at the moment?" he asks you, and you hear his voice sound less...cold for a moment. "Uh...my abusive ex cheated and I was sharing an apartment with him. Couldn't stand to live there after all the shit he pulled."

Your eyes have been trained to your boots the whole time but you look up, but you look up at Vergil and see the ice blue eyes blazing—a surefire sign he might go Devil Trigger. And for some reason, that makes the throbbing between your thighs more apparent, and harder to ignore. You shift your weight on the couch, trying to do it subtly enough that he doesn't notice—but knowing how shitty your luck is, he does. Vergil raises an eyebrow at you, and you regret all your fucking life decisions. "Something wrong?" he asks.

Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you're somehow turning me the fuck on, you think to yourself before clearing your throat and replying with, "No."

"You're always clearing your throat before you speak a lie." he says, and your brow furrows. His voice imperceptibly softens at the next thing he says. "It's...cute, in a way."

You cough a bit, startled by his sudden statement. "What?"

"It is." Vergil leans forward in his chair, a little closer to the couch you're sitting on. "But I have to wonder...what is wrong?"

You shrug, resisting the urge to clear your throat again. "Wanted to shift my position on the couch—it was getting uncomfortable sitting in one position for that long."

"Hm." he replies, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, making that already noticeable throb between your thighs even more unbearable to hide. A taut tension blankets over the two of you, and your tongue swipes out to lick your lips. Vergil's eyes drop to your lips instantly, and that taut tension becomes even more taut, if that's possible.

You drop your gaze to the ground, but your eyes snag on a growing bulge tightening the black leather of his pants, which causes your mouth to go bone dry, causing you to lick your lips again. As quickly as you had noticed his cock growing harder through his pants, you drop your gaze to its intended destination—the floor—and try to forget you ever saw it. 

That taut tension between you and Vergil continues, neither of you talking. His gaze locked on your lips, yours locked on the ground—though seeing how his cock had strained against his pants is at the forefront of your mind, and that throbbing between your thighs becomes mildly painful. It's an effort not to wince, an effort to not press your hands so tightly together you might break a few bones. 

"Y/N." Vergil says, his voice a little lower and rougher than before, his breath hitting your ear. When the hell did he move?,  you wonder to yourself before realizing, Oh, wait. He's half-demon. 

"Yeah." you mutter as a form of response, since your mind's more focused on how close he is to you right now—the distance between your bodies only inches apart, which makes that throbbing between your thighs even worse. "Tell me what's wrong," he murmurs, his breath still hitting your ear as he uses one hand to tilt your chin up towards his face. "And tell me how to make it better."

Other than the fact that you're so turned on you almost can't see straight, something you'd never tell him even if your life depended on it, there's an...emptiness. Having dated your abusive ex for so long before you ended it because you'd found him with his face between the thighs of some girl you didn't recognize has left a bigger toll on you for the past week, more than you care to admit. "I was living with my abusive ex. A week ago, I caught him eating some other girl out, and I decided I wasn't taking the abuse anymore, so..."

Vergil's eyes flash slightly, and for a moment, you think he's going to go Devil Trigger, but he doesn't—only that kernel of demonic power lies in his eyes, a show of his rage. "I will fucking hunt him down and end him. Slowly," he says, voice taking on a slight and low snarling quality in his anger. And you don't know if you've ever heard him curse before, but the throbbing between your thighs intensifies when you hear it. "Did he hurt you?"

It takes you a moment to respond to that, unsure of how to do it for fear of what he's going to do, but you reply with, "Yes."

"He never fucking deserved you." he says matter of factly, his voice still taking on that slight, low snarling quality. "You're better off without him."

"I know." you sigh. "But abusers tend to manipulate their victims. And I hate how I agreed to move in with him a month into our relationship. Should've realized it was of him—"

Your words get cut off when Vergil straight up puts his mouth on yours. The kiss isn't exactly gentle, but there's a comforting quality to it behind all the pure want he's kissing you with. It takes you a second to kiss back, but once you do, you're lost in it. God, the feeling of Vergil's mouth pressing against your has been chasing your dreams for so long now, maybe even you first met him or your first day at Devil May Cry—your mind and body keep wanting more more more as that throbbing between your thighs starts to ache, causing you to let out an unbidden whine into his mouth. 

He pulls away again, and you almost whine again, hating the loss of contact as you resist the urge to rub your thighs together. His breath and yours are mingling, both of you panting slightly. "You have no fucking idea how I've wanted to do that." Vergil murmurs, voice rougher than usual. "No fucking idea of the things I want to do to you."

A breathless sound is your only reply, and the hand that isn't gripping your chin falls to your hip, and your back arches slightly as he kneads your skin through your shirt, "Let me touch you," he mumbles, burying his face into your neck and brushing his nose against your skin. "Just—let me touch you. Please." 

You're silent for a moment, and Vergil pulls back a tiny bit, making you realize he's letting you decide—letting you decide whether you want to go further or stop and forget this ever happened. He'll keep going only with a confirmation that you want this, and only if it's a yes you're sure about—he doesn't want you to be pressured. You swallow, and you see his eyes flick to the hollow of your throat, tracking the movement. "Okay." you say, pressing a hand to his chest, right above his heart. 

No sooner than the word leaves you, Vergil has his mouth right on the side of your neck, his hand dropping from your chin and going to your other hip—both hands kneading through your shirt now. You tilt your head back, a silent plea for him to keep going. A sound emerges from low in his throat—some kind of growl?—and he skims his mouth along your skin to the hollow of your throat, causing a chill of pleasure to go down your spine.

Vergil's mouth presses against the hollow of your throat, his hands still kneading your hips through your shirt, and your back arches into him, his hips settling between your thighs once you do—causing an unbidden whimper to leave your mouth. The feel of his cock, even with the barriers of his pants and yours, makes you see fucking stars. His tongue laves along the hollow of your throat, and you whimper louder this time, your senses narrowed to his tongue moving over your skin. Your head falls back even more, baring pretty much all your neck to him. 

"You taste so much better than I ever fucking dreamed you would." Vergil murmurs onto your skin, pulling on it with his teeth. You moan now, your hips uncontrollably grinding against his—eliciting a soft groan from him, and that sound only adds to the throbbing between your thighs and the desire sparking in your blood. He dips his head a bit, nibbling on more skin of your neck, and every singular throb between your thighs feels like fucking torture. Your hands are aching to touch him, aching to feel his bare skin, his mouth, his fingers, his cock...

You tentatively put your hands on Vergil's shoulders, kind of digging your nails in when he drags his teeth on your skin. His hands hook into the bottom hem of your shirt, and your breath hitches. "Can I take this off?" he murmurs against your neck, and you nod. But his hands don't move, leaving you to rub your thighs together in a need for friction and some impatience. "I need to hear you say it, darling. I need you to use your words, okay?"

You take a fractured breath in, forming  some words as you fight through the lust fogging your mind right now. "Fuck yes. Please, Vergil. Please." you mumble, so wet you might soak through your pants altogether. "Thank fuck..." he murmurs, moving one hand up to the neckline of your shirt before tugging and ripping the cotton and polyester fabric clean down the middle.

You gasp at the cool air hitting your upper half—now, your bra's the only barrier. Vergil pulls away from your neck, his eyes glazing over as he looks at your bare skin. "So fucking beautiful..." he says as his hands land back onto your hips, kneading your skin. You whine, so turned on it's hard to think of anything else. He dips his head down, teeth grazing one of the edges of your bra. 

Your hands go from digging your nails into his shoulders to tangling in his short and slicked back silvery-white hair—it's so fucking soft, and it's thicker than it looks. A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat, and his hands continue to knead into your hips, but hands feel more like claws now. "Please tell me I can keep going." His teeth still graze the edge of your bra. 

"Don't—don't stop." 

Vergil's head moves a bit to the middle of your bra, and you could've sworn his canines are now fangs as he rips your bra in two with just his teeth. Your breath stutters as your upper half is fully exposed now, the throbbing between your thighs becoming so painful that you whimper a bit. His hands leave your hips and rise to cup your now bare breasts, your breath almost stopping altogether when you see the reverence in his eyes and his body language. You feel like a fucking goddess under his scrutiny, and when his hands creep up a bit, those almost-claws drawing circles on your skin, making you into the touch as lightning bolts of pleasure spread from where he's touching you.

Your hips rolls of their own accord again, a fractured moan slipping from your mouth as you feel his cock growing harder against you. You can't think, can't form words, because of the overwhelming pressure going through you right now. Vergil groans as you do that, his head dipping and his tongue teasingly tracing one of your nipples. And fuck, that feeling...You cry out this time, breath so shallow you off-handedly wonder how the fuck you're getting oxygen. 

One of his hands goes from cupping your breast to hooking into the hem of your pants, but you don't focus on that as he flicks his tongue over your nipple again, taking it into his mouth, teeth grazing the slightest bit—

You cry out again, this time mixed in with a moan, and your hips buck into him, whimpering at the way he feels against you, even if there is the barrier of clothes. "That's it, pretty girl." Vergil murmurs against your breast. "It's me who makes you feel like this." 

A moan is your only reply. He moves a bit, straddling you slightly, every thought eddying from your mind as he rolls his hips against yours, but unlike when you had done it, it's purposeful. 

He's teasing.

Vergil raises his head to whisper into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it and triggering a needy shudder that wracks your body. "If I were to rip these pants off of you right now, how wet would I find you, sweetheart?"

Fucking soaking. 

You can barely decipher his words through your lust-fogged haze, and every part  of you is screaming, more, more, more, but you manage to choke out, "Play later."

Your voice is breathless, the need in it so abundantly clear, but you're too lost in the pleasure to notice or even care. Vergil dips his head and kisses the skin beneath your ear, causing another needy shudder. A promise and an unleashing. "I will, perfect girl. I will. But we have a couple other things to take care of, do we not?"

Right. He still has all his clothes on. Slipping your hands from his hair, you put them on either side of his dark gray trench coat with bright turquoise coloring. "Can I take this off?" you ask, surprised at how you can function right now. A nod from Vergil. "Please."

You make quick work of his coat, fabric sighing as it drops to the floor, revealing arms that you never were so fucking toned. Amazed, you run your hands down his arms, the smooth skin and taut muscle feeling so good to touch. You hear his breath hitch and you smirk to yourself. "Y/N." he murmurs, and you know what he means—stop gawking and get to the point before he spontaneously combusts. Taking a breath in, you reply with a quiet "Okay" before unzipping the high neck of his armored black and dark slate gray tank top, revealing his bare chest to you. Just as his coat had, it falls to the floor behind him, the metal making a faint clinking sound. 

But you're too focused on greedily inventorying the fucking masterpiece that is Vergil's chest. Abs that look like they've been hewn from stone in a mountain's cliff face, pecs that aren't too big but are still hot as hell...your gaze snags on a thin dusting of white hair that disappears beneath his pants and a very defined V-line that flows beneath his pants like his happy trail does.

The only thing that leaves your mouth is a breathless "Fuck". You reach for the top of his pants, but his hand lightly catches your wrist—those almost-claws tickling your skin. "I want to taste you first." he says, his voice that low, lush growl that makes that throbbing between your thighs even more unbearable. "I want to feel you come on my fingers and tongue."

You swallow as Vergil's other hand—the one hooked into the waistband of your pants—moves down, utilizing those almost-claws and shredding the fabric straight down the middle, like he did with your shirt. His hand lightly brushes the fabric of your panties now, nearly making your heart stop. 

"Turn around and spread your legs," he says quietly, his voice still having that growly quality—but also pure dominance. "And hold onto the back of the couch. You'll need it."

Sparks of more arousal rise in your blood as you hasten to do what Vergil tells you, and a satisfied hum from behind you has you knowing you did it right. "Good girl." he says, his hand hooking into the edge of your panties. Your breathing stutters at the praise, and you're sure he smirked at that reaction from you, even if you can't see his face. He doesn't move for a moment before asking, "Do you still want this? Because I don't think I'll be able to stop after—though I'll try my damndest to."

You ponder on it for a moment, the throbbing between your thighs growing as you do, before you reply with a simple, "Yes."

A low growl rumbles in Vergil's throat before you pulls on your panties hard enough to rip them off your frame, and your breath sharpens for a moment. "So fucking beautiful..." he murmurs, nudging your legs just a bit wider with his knee before sliding a finger inside your dripping pussy. Your hands tighten on the back of the couch, your knuckles going white as you bite on your tongue to keep from screaming in pleasure. 

Vergil adds a second finger, and your pussy walls clench around him, spasming at the pleasure of being filled as he picks up a pace, starting a sort of rhythm—pumping his fingers in and out, said fingers being knuckle-deep in you. You moan, hips rocking against his hand—

"That's it." he murmurs, his voice still having that low and growly tone to it. "Ride my hand, pretty girl."

And you do, your soft moans permeating the silence broken only by the squelching of his fingers pumping in and out. After an indeterminable amount of time, Vergil's fingers slip out of you, making an obscene sound between squelching and popping—but also eliciting a whine from you. You were so close, and he had to go and do that.

But that feeling of intense, world-shattering pleasure returns when he laps at you, tongue giving you short, teasing licks all the way up to your swollen clit. And when his mouth finds that sweet, sensitive bud between your legs, and sucks on it, your hands are gripping the back of the couch so hard that you might break a couple bones. You let out an involuntary scream, and Vergil's hand gently clamps over your mouth to muffle it. 

Then his fingers go back to where they were before, his tongue swirling in a figure eight as he sucks on your overly sensitive clit, and you're so, so fucking close—

But Vergil takes your clit out of his mouth for a moment, making you squirm. "I want you to do something for me," he says, voice hoarse, still having that dominating quality to it. "Sit on my face, darling." 

"W—What?" you stutter. While you'd be glad to do what he tells you, you've never...done what he's asking you to do. The hand Vergil had gently clamped over your mouth to muffle your scream drops to your jaw as he says, "Sit on my face, perfect girl. You can't do anything wrong."

You swallow, but his reassurance has you doing as he tells you to do, feeling a little out of your comfort zone, but doing it nonetheless. When Vergil taks your clit back into his mouth and his fingers fill you again, your hands ache and you moan your loudest so far—this position hits far deeper spots than the previous one did, even if it had hit pretty deep. 

A few more passes of his tongue and pumping of his fingers has your back arching, grinding against his face as you come, his name on your lips. Vergil laps up every last drop of your orgasm before releasing your clit with a groan and saying, "Your taste is going to drive me fucking insane." 

Too winded to even speak, your hands bracing the back of the couch are your only support. Vergil's hands lift your hips slightly—a way of supporting you, you realize—and he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before murmuring against your skin, "You did so fucking good, sweetheart."

Your breath skips at the praise, and when your post-orgasmic bliss subsides, you mumble an incoherent reply. You hear a hum of contemplation from him and his hands knead your hips as he silently thinks something over. "Turn around and spread your legs again for me." he says. You obey almost instantly—which should be embarrassing, but you're too turned on to care—and you hear a snarl of approval behind you. Buttons being unbuttoned and zipper being undone sounds from behind you, followed by the whisper of leather dropping and boots clacking onto the floor. 

You're instantly wet and throbbing again after thinking about what's going to happen, your juices slicking down your thighs. You feel Vergil's hand grip your ass and squeeze it slightly as he asks, "Ready?"

A nearly incoherent "Please" slips from your mouth, and once it does, his cock slides inside you, all the way to the base. He's bigger—and wider—than you thought he'd be, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.

Now, this isn't your first time having sex, but you haven't done it for a while, and this is Vergil we're talking about here, for fuck's sake. You feel his lips graze along your spine as he murmurs, "You're so fucking tight." 

After that comment, he pulls out near to the tip and slides back into the base, which is really easy considering how soaked you are, making a moan leave your mouth. "Mine," he grunts, sounding like he's close to DTing. "My beautiful whore, taking my cock so well."

The praise mixed with degradation should sting, but instead it stokes the flames of your need, and you moan again. "You like this, pretty girl?" Vergil asks as he kisses your spine again, thrusting in and out. "You like when I pound into your sweet little cunt with my cock?"

Another moan, louder this time, is your only reply—more, more, more, until he pumps you full of his cum—

For a few blissful moments, there's only him and his rough thrusts before he stops. Your brow furrows a bit. "Why'd you stop?"

Vergil doesn't say anything, he just grabs your hips and positions the both of you so that he's on his back and you're straddling him, his cock inches away from your entrance. You can see his face now, and has a bit of a self-confident smirk on his mouth. Even if you don't have sex much, you can tell what that means. You sink onto his cock—it's deeper this time, and your moan occurs at the same time as his groan. 

His hands knead into your hips as you brace your hands on his muscled chest, moving up and down in a rough rhythm, moaning whenever his cock deeply hits in a sweet spot. You keep going, lost in the pleasure, riding Vergil into oblivion until he lifts his hips and his cock hits a spot that makes you come and sees stars at the same time—you let out a sound between a moan and a scream at the sensation. His orgasm comes right up on the heels of yours, and he lets out a long, low groan as he cums deep inside you, and your inner walls clench, milking it out.

When he pulls out, there's a small whine from you, but you can feel his cum dripping from your pussy, along with the juices from your own orgasm. You sit there on top of him, still dazed from post-orgasmic bliss, taking in air. You off-handedly wonder where your clothes are before remembering Vergil quite literally ripping them off of you earlier. 

He seems to have seen something in your face, because he raises his head and kisses the tip of your nose. "You okay?" he asks you, and his checking in brings a small smile to your face. "Yeah...just wondering what I'm gonna do since you ripped all my clothes right off."

Vergil winces a bit. "Sorry, I just...I wanted you so bad that I wasn't thinking straight. I still want you."

"I know," you murmur drowsily. "I do too."

You get off him and let him put his clothes back on, for some reason expecting him to leave you here naked since he'd gotten what he wanted from you. Fabric is draped around your shoulders, and you see Vergil kneel in front of you, fully dressed now, doing seemingly hidden buttons to protect your dignity. He further surprises you by picking you up bridal style as if you weigh nothing. He then presses his mouth to yours—an offer you immediately accept by kissing back—before he pulls away just enough for his mouth to graze yours as he talks. "I'd do anything for you. Kill, steal, lie, cheat...you name it, I'll do it, because you deserve the fucking world, my love."

You smile and reply with, "Same goes for you."

Vergil laughs softly and kisses you again before grabbing the Yamato—mostly forgotten in your guys' frenzy—and holds it one hand as he bridal carries you to his room.

[pssyinboots]

The Dance- Wally Clark

ok this is my first time writing a full fic so i’m sorry if it’s bad,but please tell me what you think (also i didn’t know how to end this so it ends kinda abruptly)

you and wally have almost started dating about 100 times (it's actually 102 you've been keeping track). you guys even kissed on new years last year, but somehow someway you guys have never actually made it official. and then a new ghost appeared, maddie nears. and suddenly it felt like wally forgot about you and his only focus was maddie. you love maddie you really do,you're not the kind of girl to hate another girl just because you're almost boyfriend (of 102 times) decided to become fascinated with helping her live her death and solve her own murder.you’re trying to help her too.plus you guys have gotten super close, connecting over having crappy home lifes. you've seen how she helps the ghost and shows empathy towards all of them while also trying to figure out what happened to herself.

honestly you can understand why wally has become so enamored with her.it’s just been really hard to see wally spending all his time with her instead of you. he just wanted to help and make her feel welcomed and you knew that his intentions were pure. yet you still couldn’t help but envy her, especially when he chose to spend field day with her instead of with you breaking the tradition you guys have had for the past 5 years. but it's fine it's totally fine atleast y'all still have homecoming ,"so i asked maddie to go to homecoming", you swear you could of cried. your attention quickly transfer from the book you were reading to him. you look up to already see wally’s eyes on you trying to anticipate your reaction while gnawing on his lip."you asked maddie but we always go together, we've been going together for the last 5 years". you can tell wally is starting to get nervous, he's doing that thing where he slightly scrunches up his eyebrows and refuses to look at you."yeah i know but look it's only one night i just want to help her start living her death ya know and plus it's not like we won't be able to hangout too"

you're really trying to understand his point of view, but from where you're standing it just looks like he's leaving you behind and replacing you with funny, beautiful, kind, mysterious maddie nears. you quickly grab your book from the table, and hastily pushing your chair back causing it to make that horrendous scraping sound now you could stand up. "yeah ok i get it, you know what i actually have this thing i forgot about with rhonda so i have to go". before you can make a break for it wally grabs your arm, "hey are you sure you're ok", "yeah wally have fun with maddie i'll talk to you later".

you find rhonda in the teachers lounge with charlie, you probably looked like you got ran over by a car (again). as soon as you enter the room their attention falls onto you charlie is the first one to actually say something, “what’s wrong babes you look like you’ve seen a ghost”. rhonda rolls her eyes at his attempted joke before joining in “yeah cherry pop what’s up”. you try so hard not to look upset but you just couldn’t help it the guy you are in love with was replacing you with the new girl.“wally is taking maddie to the dance”. you tried so hard to keep you’re voice calm and level but you could hear it crack. “oh” they say in unison all you can do is flop down on the couch across from them.“yeah i think it’s actually over i lost him” you move your arm to cover your eyes now you can avoid their pity stares. “cherry pop you cant lose him, that boy is in love with you” charlie nods his head with that cute pity smile creeping onto his face. “yeah babes he is just trying to help maddie live her death and stuff you know he likes you and always has”. you peak at them over your arm,you really try to believe them, but there’s a part of you that been slowly growing over the past couple weeks that tells you that he’s done with the game that y’all are playing and he’s moving on. “yeah thanks guys i think im just going to go outside for a minute” you get up from the couch trying to avoid their stares and sympathy smiles and start your trek to the football field.

you lay down in the middle of the field and just stare up at the stars getting lost in your thoughts. you and wally used to always come out here when something was bothering one of you. it was your one true comfort, which meant a lot to you since there really aren’t too many comforting things about being dead and trapped in your high school. you were so far in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice wally laying down next to you. “heyy what’s up? rhonda came yelling at me to check up on you”, jumping slightly you turn your head to see wally already staring at you with that stupid cute concerned expression on his face .looking away from him you kneel up on your elbows sighing heavily hoping he’ll just drop it,but you can feel his stare burning into you. “ok so i know you’re just trying to help maddie, and i think that’s really sweet of you but i’m feeling sort of left behind”. you refuse to look at him scared of his reaction. you close your eyes tightly waiting for him to say something, “ohhh…… honestly i didn’t think the dance would be that big of a deal i mean we’ve been together for the past year and have been going to that dance together since you’ve got here and maddie’s never been so i thought it would be nice if i took her as friends ”.

your eyes pop open and you look at wally in shock “we’re together???”he cocks his head a bit raising his eyebrows “aren’t we?? we’ve been spending everyday together since you got here, im pretty sure you know more about me than my own mom.” he turns to his side now he can fully look at you.“yeah but wally you’ve never actually asked me to be your girlfriend ”. you look up at him with a confused expression trying hard to keep your head from exploding. “oh-i thought it was kind of just implied,remember new years when i said you were the best thing to ever happen to me and we kissed??” your face heats up reliving the memory. that was the best night of your life or well death. “of course i do but we never really talked about it since then”. “…oh ok that’s my bad. so then will you be my girlfriend??”. you swear your heart stopped. wally just looked at you smiling waiting patiently for a answer. “yes wally of course i’ll be your girlfriend” you swear you here him whisper thank god before he leans down now you guys were at eye level. your lips are about a centimeter apart, if either of you leans in anymore they would be touching. you watch wally’s eyes move between your lips and your eyes. “can i kiss you” he says softly while looking at your lips. you don’t bother responding just pulling him in by his gold chain. it was the best kiss either of you guys have ever had. it was way diffrent from the shy soft kiss you had on new years, this one was full of passion from the past 5 years.

you finally pulled away when you ran out of air and rested your forehead against his. he kisses your nose causing you to let out a soft chuckle and he slowly pulled away from you. “so should i tell maddie that she’s going to be third wheeling us at the dance ??” he questions while holding your hand running his thumb up and down your skin. you look up at him and quirk your eyebrow “you want me to go with y’all?? it’s ok wally i understand you can go with her as friends i just felt a little jealous”.he smiles at you and looks at you with adoration. “well technically she will be going with us.but yes there’s no way i’ll be hitting the dance without my girl.plus i can’t have you be jealous now can i ”.you just laugh and lean your head against his shoulder and he rests his head ontop of yours. “yes wally i’ll go to the dance with you.” “yes ok cool let’s go tell maddie” wally gets up aroubtly causing you to fall down into the grass “oof sorry babe” he gives you his hand to pull you up which you take and he leads you to go find maddie.

[fallenangelics]

That's My Girl

PAIRING | Angel Dust & Cherri Bomb

WORD COUNT | 1821

SUMMARY | After many exhausting days of performing at the studio and attempting to further his progress at the hotel, Angel is left in a sour mood after not being able to spend his time as he wants it. Cherri decides it's finally time for her to step in but after being denied her right to spend time with her best friend by some staff at the hotel, things take a turn for the unexpected as Angel makes a stand.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | I've been meaning to post this for a while but found myself taking a bit of a break before I could move the fic onto this platform. I had a great time writing for this event and hopefully will be able to enter some more in the future. @rubra-wav created the beautiful banner below so go check out their content since they have some amazing stuff.

EVENTS | @character-a-character-b | Between The Lines | "She’s my person. If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She’s my person."

AO3 LINK | Read Here

The past few weeks for Angel Dust had been hard. After being yanked back and forth between the studio and the hotel, Val constantly breathing down his neck while Charlie tried to rope him into redemption-themed activities, it had all started to take its toll on Angel. 

That’s why when he walked into the lobby of the hotel wearing a cropped pink hoodie that showed his second pair of arms that hung limp and some comfortable shorts and sat down at the bar without saying a word to anyone, it raised some alarm bells. Instead of greeting at least Husk like he would any other time he was in a slump, Angel sat with his head propped up by one of his hands, the other scrolling through the latest messages Val had sent him.

Every message his eyes scanned over it seemed it was from a different person, the tone changing drastically with every word. It didn’t matter how Val said it though, it all meant the same thing. He was wanted back at the studio that night and how Val had twisted his words in every message into something sugary before it flashed into a dripping of venom, Angel doubted he would be coming back to the hotel for a few days.

That conclusion only seemed to sour Angel’s mood more than it already had been, so much so that he didn’t even notice the drink Husk had placed in front of him or how Charlie seemed like she was gearing up to try and change his mood. The only thing that Angel did notice was the series of emojis that flashed at the top of his screen, the calling card of someone familiar.

Spinning in his chair just as the doors to the hotel were thrust open, Angel came face to face with a grinning Cherri Bomb. Ignoring everyone else in the room, Cherri headed straight for Angel, latching onto him with a large grin. “Hey Angie, how’ve you been bitch?”

“Oh, you know,” Angel could already feel his mood start to brighten as he spoke with Cherri, her presence having an immediate effect on him. After moving into the hotel, Angel hasn’t had many chances to meet up with Cherri, almost all of their usual activities being deemed unredeemable and setting back any of the progress Angel had made in his journey to Heaven. “Just hangin’ out or gettin’ work done.”

“Sounds to me like you need a night out,” Cherri exclaimed, giving away the motives of this interaction. Feeling his body react to that suggestion before his mind could even comprehend what she had in store for the two of them, Angel was grinning and nodding his head, wanting to hear more of the life he had unfortunately given up for redemption. “We can go back to my place to get ready and take a few shots before we hit up all the best clubs. I might even be able to get us a special something.”

“That sounds-” Angel started, pushing himself up from his stool and pocketing his phone. He was getting ready to agree with Cherri, a nice day away from everyone sounding nice when Vaggie cut her way into their conversation, almost shielding Angel with her body as she set herself up as a physical barrier.

“Terrible,” The short woman finished for him. Cherri almost recoiled at the intervention while Angel shoved his forehead into his hand, the two of them eyeing Vaggie with clear disdain. “Maybe you’ve forgotten why Angel Dust is staying here but it’s so he can be redeemed. Going out to get wasted or high completely undermines everything Charlie has been working for.”

“Oh, what Charlie’s been workin’ for?” Angel repeated with a laugh. He immediately came to Cherri’s defence, sliding his way past Vaggie, much to the girl's annoyance so that he could stand next to his friend instead. “I thought I was the one workin’ to redemption, meanin’ I can do whatever I want with my progress.”

“Let’s be real here for a second, okay Angel Dust?” A loud scoff escaped from Vaggie’s lips as she looked up at Angel, disgust evident on her face as if she was being forced to talk to him right now. Angel had seen that look a few times before and while he was new at the hotel he would’ve called her out for it without a second thought, but now as he spent more time here he tried not to cause as many fights for Charlie’s sake. “Charlie has worked harder for your redemption than you have. Now if we say you shouldn't do something because it’s either going to make you, the hotel or us bad, then you shouldn’t do it. Going out with Cherri is one of those things.”

“Angie’s allowed to do whatever he wants. You don’t own him so I don’t know why you’re trying to control him,” It was Cherri’s turn to come to his defence as she pointed an accusing finger at Vaggie. Her words seemed to anger the Fallen Angel more but surprisingly Vaggie bit he tongue, allowing Cherri to go on.  “Hey Princess, why don’t you call off your guard dog?”

There was no answer from the Princess of Hell as the silence stretched across the room. It was clear that being referred to as a guard dog seemed to set Vaggie off but Angel didn’t bother indulging her as he turned to Charlie, staring at her with furrowed brows and a confusion-laced expression as he called out to her softly, “Charlie?”

“I agree with Vaggie, Angel,” The response took a few moments but her answer seemed to rock through Angel, his mask slipping as the confusion he was feeling worsened into betrayal. Charlie was defiantly one of the hotel residents he had grown closer to so hearing those words leave her mouth sent half of Angel’s world tumbling, the other half remaining in a tight cage with Val. “We’ve both worked very hard for this Angel and we can’t just let you throw it all away for a one-night bender. Unless the two of you can think of something peaceful to do here while supervised, I think it’s best Cherri Bomb leaves.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Cherri loudly cried, her voice shooting towards Charlie with anger lacing every word. Just like Cherri, Angel couldn’t believe the words coming from Charlie’s mouth right now. “I’ve known Angie longer than all of you put together and this is how you think you can treat me? No wonder no one else has signed up for this hotel.”

“You heard the Princess,” Vaggie grouched, summoning her Angelic Weapon to point the spear tip at Cherri, forcing her to start moving towards the door. Angel watched the action with gritted teeth, not understanding where the sudden dislike for Cherri among the hotel staff had come from but knowing he wasn’t going to stand for it.

“What the fuck do you all think you’re doin’?” Angel’s voice rose, his words aimed at Vaggie as she tried to hound Cherri away. The shout sent a halt through the room, all eyes turning to Angel, surprised to see the outburst. “I’m not sure when you all started thinkin’ that you can control what I do when I spend my time at the hotel but I ain’t going to stand around and allow that to happen. Especially not when you think you can act like that to my best friend.”

“Angel I’m sure we can talk about this once you’ve calmed down-” Charlie tried to amend, her hands up in a surrendering position as she tried to reach Angel. 

“I don’t need to calm down when you’re treatin’ Cherri like that,” It was almost a hiss as the words left Angel’s mouth. No longer did he stay rooted to his spot as he began walking back towards Cherri, glaring at Vaggie and Charlie as he went, making sure the two of them knew his words were aimed at them. “Cherri’s my person. If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the livin’ room floor. If I need to get wasted out of my mind then I’m goin’ to send her a message. If I want to destroy everythin’ that I’ve been doing for the past few months then she’s going to be by my side and if you can’t get on board with that then maybe my stay here should be cut short.”

“Angel, wait,” Charlie tried but it was all in vain.

“You would do that for me?” Cherri questioned, her one eye blinking up at Angel with admiration.

“Of course, I would Cher,” Angel grinned down at her linking one of his many arms with hers as he flipped the rest of the hotel off. Though he was giving up the free roof over his head he would rather stand by Cherri’s side. “I’ll be back for Fat Nuggets tomorrow unless you two can reconsider your redemption practices.”

“I knew I could always count on you, Angel,” A laugh rippled from Cherri as she began to fire up again, her instinct no longer screaming at her to stand up and fight back at whoever opposed her. Redefining their linked arms, Cherri began pulling them towards the hotel's door, no longer needing Vaggie’s spear pointed at her back to do so. “Now, let’s blow this place.”

“Couldn’t have put in any better myself,” Angel cackled, following after Cherri as she summoned a bomb and threw it at the door, leaving a large, gaping hole for the two of them as they dashed out of it, giggles spilling from their lips. 

They didn’t stop moving for a long time after that, Cherri leading Angel back to her house like she promised they would, the two of them taking the long way back as they weren’t fully convinced Charlie wouldn’t try to run after them. But as they spilled into Cherri’s room, the two of them flopped back onto her bed and curled into one another, they realised they had the night all to themselves.

“I’m sorry if I put you in a tough spot, Angie,” Cherri murmured, voice quiet as they lay side by side. Angel hadn’t really thought about what he had said since leaving the hotel, leaving that all to tomorrow when he finally went back to either have a serious talk with Charlie and Vaggie or to pack his bags. “You can always stay here if you need to. And if that doesn’t work for you I can help you find a new place.”

“Don’t worry about it Cherri,” Angel put a quick stop to her rambling, wrapping his arms around her to pull her in for a tight hug. “I’d do the same thing all over again if I had to. Not even redemption compares to you.”

[ghostfanwriter]

☀️🌭 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐞 🌭☀️

← Previous part

☀️ Pairing: Dave York x Fem!Reader (for now)

🌭 Synopsys: There was a change of plans and it turned out the barbecue had to be hosted in your family's backyard. It would be pretty crowded, and the perfect chance to get Dave where he always said he wanted to be... your bedroom.

☀️ Features: 🔞 Teasing, she calls him daddy (just a few times, I swear), smut, oral sex (m receiving), spiting (not in her mouth this time), teasing and masturbation (f receiving), cumplay.

🌭 Word Count: 6k

☀️ About this: This has been cooking for a while, and because of that some parts of it inspires other fics I wrote! So if you find similarities with other (especially The Dress, a Joel Miller fic) that's why

🌭 Author's note: Carol's coming... (But Dave's not going anywhere). ALSO! I highly recommend reading the previous parts to catch all the little details.

You're gonna try your best to make his day as hard as possible.

The necklaces he gave you are the final touch on your look. The cherry rests on top of the 'D', and they both shine on your chest.

No one else will, but you and Dave will know exactly what they mean. You're his, and it's just a matter of time until he claims that.

You get in front of the mirror and send him a photo. Full body, showing him your whole outfit. "Did you like it?" You send along.

He is at work, in his own office, sending and responding emails. The type of task that makes him miss having to dodge bullets.

He smiles seeing your name on his notification, frowning when he sees the picture, leaning back on his chair and adjusting his pants. He looks at it for a while, and not even a minute later, he calls you.

"Guess it's hard for you to not look too pretty, right, baby?" He says, and you giggle listening to him, you love looking like something he wants to look at.

"Did you like it?" You ask again.

"Fuck, got me hard just looking at the damn picture, angel." He says, and you laugh. "Don't you have anything else to wear?" His voice a bit breathy.

You whine in disappointment. "No, I loved it."

He grunts, touching himself through his pants, his bulge aching just from imagining you with that dress all day long.

"That's the problem, baby. I loved it too. Don't know how I'm gonna make it through the day with you like this, pumpkin." He says, and you smile at the name. "I need you to get changed."

Your dress is short.

Short, flowy, and it has a nice but discreet cleavage. The top part hugs your waist just right, and the bottom hugs and enhances all the right curves. It somehow manages to be sexy and girly at the same time.

It will drive him crazy.

But that was exactly your plan. Make his lighthearted neighborhood barbecue a bit more fun.

"Okay, Mr. York. I'll change into something a bit less fun, then." You say she he sighs.

"Uhh, thank you, peach. I'm sure you'll look pretty in anything. And you can wear this pretty dress only for me one day." He says and you smile, giving yourself another look on the mirror and sitting on your bed.

"You gotta stop promising me these things." You tell him with a smile before hanging up.

You try to ignore when Dave arrives at the barbecue with his family. The girls run to play with the other kids, and Carol goes to talk to a few other moms she knows.

Dave goes to a group of men, all close to his age – the husband's of the women Carol was chatting with. They're all laughing and drinking.

"Hey, Dave! You lucky fucking asshole! Wish my kids were failing school." One of the men says, catching Dave off guard.

He follows the men's eyes, his eyebrows furrowing as soon as he finds you, bending down to hug his daughters and greeting Carol.

Your necklaces shining on your chest, your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulders, and the fucking dress he told you not to wear clinging to your body in a perfect way, while still somehow being summer-neighborhood-barbecue friendly.

He smiles when you look at him.

"Hi, Mr. York!" You shout, a warm and inviting smile across your face as you wave. He's still wearing his formal work clothes; a light blue, long sleeved shirt and black dress pants. It's quite hard to not notice him, to ignore him.

He looks so good you have to control yourself to not look him up and down.

He waves back, a silly smile making its way to his own face, and he sighs when another one of the dads taps his shoulder.

"The devil works hard, my friend." The man says, pausing to drink his beer. "But we gotta work even fucking harder to resist it." He says, and you smile at them, even though you can't hear what they're saying.

By the way they're looking at you... There's only so much they could be talking about.

Dave laughs, speaking before he can stop himself. "The problem is the devil looks like a fucking angel sometimes."

The man laughs. "Wouldn't wanna be you, man. Would go fucking crazy seeing that everyday."

He knows.

He goes.

But hopefully you will help him and make today as easy as possible.

The day goes by relatively smoothly. You're too busy playing with the kids, talking to some old ladies, or ditching a few guys that flirt with you to have time to remember Dave's around.

Or at least that's what he was counting on.

He knew you two would have a talk because of your dress; because you did something he actively told you not to — which, to his dismay, was one of your favorite things to do.

And he knew he was right. He couldn't just take you to his bedroom and fuck your mouth or spank your ass, making you count enough slaps until numbers and his name became the only words you could remember.

But — God — does he fucking want to. Everytime a man would talk about you or look at you for too long, everytime a boy would approach you, everytime you looked at him...

He knew his limit was nearing. He was getting jealous, greedy even. He didn't want to see your smile, always so pretty and honest, directed at anyone else but him. Your laugh caused by anyone else's jokes.

He avoided especially imagining you making the pretty sounds you made for him on the phone the night before for someone else.

With you, he found out he was even more selfish than he already knew. He wanted you whole, and he wanted you all to himself.

He knew he couldn't. But he wanted to run towards you and bend you over a table, fuck you right there, in front of everyone, so no one dares to even think about you again. So everyone knows you're his.

So you stop teasing him like you do, so you know you're his, and so he gets his life back. So he can think of anything other than what it'd be like to be inside you, hearing you moan his name while feeling your warm and soft skin underneath his body. Your nails digging on his skin, your hair tangled around his fingers, your eyes rolling back, your pussy clenching and gushing around him—

He shakes the feelings away when his dress pants start feeling too tight, feeling grateful the dress wasn't as short as it seemed on the picture, and you've kept your distance, letting him just watch you.

His favorite thing to do, his favorite thing to watch.

You felt like your day was over.

You got Dave's attention — he's spent the whole day watching you — and you had a good time. So you looked for your parents to tell them you were going to your bedroom.

Maybe send Dave a picture or two, who knows?

But you decide to stick by for a little longer when you find him talking to your dad. They're sitting across from each other, Dave's legs are spread and he looks a lot more laid back than you're used to, even still wearing his formal clothes.

It's a vision too good to waste. An opportunity too good to pass. You can't help yourself.

Quite frankly you don't want to stop yourself as you walk towards them, Dave's eyes fixating on you when he sees you coming over.

"Hi daddyy!" You say with a sweet voice, looking into Dave's eyes, almost singing as you bend over to hug your dad's neck and chest from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck, your hands hanging in front of his chest.

"Hey, honey pie. You alright?" Your dad responds as Dave shifts on his seat.

You kiss his cheek. "Great, just checking on you." You say. "Hey Mr. York. Did you know my dad already?" You ask Dave, and he gulps before answering, removing his eyes from your lifted ass and finding your eyes again.

"No, not really. Just found out he's your dad, actually." He says laughing nervously.

"Oh, you're the Mr. York?" Your dad asks, his eyes widening after he finishes his beer, and Dave nods. "Dave York then, huh? Is she doing a good job?" He asks, bending over to shake Dave's hand, pulling you along.

"Oh, don't even get me started fucking started. She's doing more than you'd like to know." Dave thinks to himself and laughs.

"Yeah, amazing job, actually. The girls love her and they're doing way better at school." He says with a wide smile.

He was genuinely happy for his daughters' improvement, and even happier that you were the reason behind it.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. York. The girls are super sweet and smart. They just needed a little push." You say honestly, and his chest tightens a bit.

Did you have to be so good with his kids?

You notice your dad's empty beer bottle, taking it from his hand. "Do you want another one?" You ask.

"Oh, I'd love another one, baby, thanks." He says, looking back up at you with a wide smile.

"Can I get you one too, Mr. York?" You ask, and Dave picks his empty bottle from the grass.

"Yeah, sure, pum— Thank you." He says with a smile, cursing himself for almost letting a 'pumpkin' escape his lips.

A pretty girl giving him attention and bringing him more cold beer. Dave asks himself what are the chances he died at work and somehow made his way to heaven. But no, he's no fool to believe he would make it there.

And you honestly don't mind how old the idea sounds; to look pretty and serve your man.

Sure, you wouldn't do it to anyone else. But you like to do it to Dave.

You just wish you could do it every day.

You open two bottles and take a sip of one of them, looking into Dave's eyes as you do, and he smiles at you.

You bring them the bottles, handing Dave the one you drank from, and he drinks from it, looking into your eyes. You smile and hug your dad's neck from behind again, leaning over him and staring at Dave.

"Daddy, I'm a bit tired, think I'm gonna go upstairs, to my room." You say, looking at Dave and kissing your dad's cheek. "Maybe I'll come back before the party's over, just don't tell anyone I'm upstairs, please? Just tell them I left for a bit. Don't wanna be bothered." You say, and Dave gulps. He knows you're not just gonna get some rest.

"Alright, baby." You dad says, stroking your hair from behind and kissing your forehead.

"See you, Mr. York." You say, leaving, and he raises his beer, nodding to you. You walk away, and he follows you with his eyes, wishing he could go with you.

So close but so fucking out of reach.

The price he pays for his sins.

You text him on your way to your bedroom, a devilish smile on your face.

'Find yourself a bathroom, Mr. York. Wanna show you something.' You send him.

He's still talking to your dad when his phone buzzes. He grunts when he sees it's you already.

"Sorry, work. Gotta respond" He tells your dad, texting you before he can stop himself.

'Why don't you be a big girl and tell me where your bedroom is? Gonna be easier for both of us, peach.' He sends, the few beers he's drank enough to blur his best judgement.

You laugh when you see his text.

Dave York in your bedroom, doing God knows what while your parents, his family — his wife —, and the whole neighborhood are downstairs... Sinful and heavenly scenario.

'Last door on the hallway upstairs. If anyone finds you going up or down, just say the bathroom downstairs was occupied, and someone told you there was another one upstairs. There actually is one, so no one's gonna think anything of it.' You send him, your stomach making you feel sick, anticipation washing over you as you sit on your bed and wait for your doorknob to move.

"Do you mind? I have to get this or they'll never leave me alone." He tells your dad, who nods and lets him go.

A few seconds later you hear heavy footsteps coming towards your bedroom, and you can feel every contraction of your heart as it beats fast inside your chest.

You feel like you're gonna vomit, a wave of all the feelings you feel around him crashing against you; the bad ones because you're so close to his family, and the good ones because... Well, he's him.

He opens the door slowly and smiles when he sees you sitting on your bed, your eyes wide and your chest moving deeply.

He locks the door and takes a second to look around your bedroom, still partially decorated from when you were in high school. The walls painted in soft colors, your bed sheets pink, yellow and white. Everything he knew your room would be like.

"Hi, peach." He says, approaching you, standing right in front of you.

"Hi, Mr. York." You respond, your voice barely making it's way out of your lips.

"How was your day, baby? Did you have fun?" His hand comes to your chin, lifting it so you'd look up at him.

"Uhum. Did you see it?" You ask, your voice slightly shaky as you lift both your necklaces with your thumb, showing them to him.

"Oh, I saw it, that's why I didn't punch any of the boys flirting with you." He whispers. "Because I know you know that you're mine."

"You were watching me?" You ask, smiling, putting on an innocent face. You know he's been.

You were counting on it.

"Couldn't look away all day, baby. So pretty like this." He praises, caressing your cheek and pulling your hair behind your ear.

"All for you." You say, and he smiles.

"All for me?" He asks, sounding honored.

"Knew you'd like it." You say with a wide and proud smile.

"Oh, but that's exactly the problem, pumpkin." He starts, his tone shifting from sweet to dark when he says: "I liked it way too much, just like I told you I would." His hand pulling on the hair on the back of your head, forcing your head back.

"Mr. York..." You moan.

"Tell me what you want, angel. What are you trying to get from all this? Huh? 'Cause I'm getting tired of only seeing this pretty body in pictures." He says softly, almost whispering as his right hand keeps holding your head back, and his left hand gently massages your right breast.

The —huge— volume on his pants, right in front of your face, is making it hard for you to think, and you just stare at it, licking your lips, ignoring his questions.

"Tsk, get up here, baby. This cock's making you dumb and you haven't even touched it yet." He says, pulling you up by your hair, your bodies touching.

You love how rough he is. It makes your knees weak. It makes you want to behave, to be good for him, and do what he says.

Whatever he says.

But also to not give him what he wants, so he keeps treating like this. Just so he calls you names, so he slams you into a wall again, so he pulls on your hair or squeezes your throat until you're lightheaded.

You can't help the pathetic whine that you let out.

"C'mon, words. I know you're such a smart girl. Tell me what you want." He says, rubbing his nose on your cheeks, his hands on the nape of your neck and squeezing your hips, pressing your body onto his.

You close your eyes, your nose touching his face while your hands pull on his hair and tug on his shirt, gathering the courage to just open your mouth and let your thoughts out.

"I... I want you to cum inside me." You say, and he pulls away just enough to look at you. "I want you to do it and then I want to go back downstairs and talk to people with you leaking from me... I want you, Mr. York." You manage to let out. Feeling your cheeks on fire as the words leave your lips.

You don't understand how he can pull such honesty out of you like this.

But you love it.

He chuckles softly, a twisted smile on his lips.

"Jesus, doll." He whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. "So fucking bad. Can't do it, no. Can't cum inside you. Not yet. But I know of something that may do it for you." He says, gently pulling your hair behind your ears. "Get on your knees." He says sternly.

But you just stare at him, too nervous to move. Too in awe of the situation to react. Still a bit numbed by your own words, your own thoughts.

He knows he doesn't have a lot of time, though. Take too long and people are gonna ask where he's gone. And he doesn't know when he's gonna have this chance again.

He slaps your face, just his fingers hitting your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt or offend you, just to burn and get your attention.

And to make you smile.

"You wanted this, peach? Attention? You wore this fucking dress for me to do this, didn't you? Then your plan worked, you got what you fucking wanted. Now stop being a fucking brat and do what I say." He says sternly, his voice low and angry.

You can feel yourself leaking from the way he talks to you, your heart beating so hard you're certain he can hear it.

"Sorry, daddy." You say, your voice small and aroused. You try to get down to your knees, but he holds you up by your throat, slapping your face again, a proper slap this time.

"Told you to not fucking call me that." He snarls at you, his dick twitching inside his pants.

"And this will only teach me to do it even more, Dave." You say with a smile, pushing yourself onto the hand on your throat, a dark and small smile appearing on his lips as he squeezes it even harder. "And you said I couldn't call you that because you couldn't fuck my mouth... But we're here now, so I guess it's—"

You gasp when he squeezes harder, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

"I'm just trying to find out if this mouth is as good at sucking my cock as it is at talking back to me." He says, pushing you down to your knees, between himself and your bed, your feet going underneath the bed.

You unbuckle his pants desperately. Now that your mind is back inside your body, you want to do this before he changes his mind.

You pull his pants down and take a deep breath when you see his cock, the air refusing to leave your lungs.

Big, girthy, trimmed but not shaved, veins showing through his light skin. His pink and swollen tip, engulfed by his foreskin, already leaking with his precum.

He's so heavy he doesn't stand fully erect, hanging with his own weight. You frown at the sight, not catching the moan that leaves your mouth, and he smiles.

"As good in person?" He asks, his hands gently pulling your hair back, taking a fistful of it to force you to look up at him.

"Even better, Mr. York." You say, looking into his eyes as you grab him, feeling just how heavy he is. "And so heavy, too." You say, licking his tip, right where it's leaking, earning a deep sigh from him.

"C'mon, baby. Treat it real nice, it's all for you." He says, his voice low and aroused.

"Because of me?" You ask with a devious smile.

"You know it is." He says, his smile warmer than you expected, like he's proud of you for being so nasty. Maybe even nastier than him.

Focused solely on his cock, you lick long and heavy lines from his base towards his tip, wetting your tongue before each time. Then you open your mouth, letting drool fall from your tongue to his tip, covering it in each time faster kitten licks. His hips buck forward, making you laugh.

"Too big to fit into your mouth, baby? Huh? Never had a grown man's cock in your mouth? That's why you're teasing me like this?" He asks impatiently, and you look up at him.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You say, making him frown, his tip leaking on your hand.

He sighs when you take his tip inside your mouth, sucking softly around it, enjoying his soft feeling and his salty taste on your tongue. You take him in deeper, just enough for his tip to reach the middle of your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, rolling your tongue around him while you suck him tightly, moving your lips and stroking him slowly, feeling his skin move along with your hand.

He pulls on your hair, sighing a "Fucking shit, baby." An amused smile across his face as he caress your hair, right where he was pulling at before. "Just gonna need a bit more if we want this to be fast." He says and you get it.

He needs to get back down, and you don't want anyone knocking on your door and interrupting the two of you.

You let go of him with a wet 'bop', smiling at his expression. You stroke him slowly around his tip as you lick a line from it all the way down to his base, and instead of coming back to his tip, you go even lower.

You lick around one of his balls, taking it in your mouth and sucking on it, rolling your tongue over it, almost munching it. Earning sighs and grunts from him.

"It's been a while since they got any attention, baby." He pants, his whole face contorted in a frown, his lips hanging slightly open and his chest raising and falling slowly and heavily.

"Such a waste, Mr York." You say, letting your mind wander around with the idea of living with him, being with him, being his. Pleasing him, helping him feel better after another stressful day at work. "I'd give them so much attention if they were mine." You moan.

"Fuck — Don't do this to me, baby." He begs in a whisper.

Because he's doing the same, and just thinking about seeing you everyday, having you do this to him everyday, makes him wanna cum right then. Just from imagining having you by his side. Just from imagining having you.

You go back to his tip, rolling your tongue around it and sucking on it harder. When you try to take it deeper, you realize your mouth's a bit too dry.

And you could just wet it more... but Dave's right above you.

"Can you help me? My mouth's not wet enough to swallow you." You say, and he pulses on your hand.

"What do you want me to do, peach?" He asks, caressing your hair, and you just smile at him. "Use your words, baby." He insists.

"Can you spit on it for me?" You ask, your voice sweet and low.

"Jesus." He pants, furrowing his brows before moving his jaw from side to side.

"Thank you." You say, licking your lips and taking him in as far as you can.

He spits on his length, right before your lips, and you go deeper, using his saliva as lube, never looking away from his face. When his tip hits the back of your throat he grunts, one of his hands pulling on your hair and the other holding the nape of your neck so you don't move.

"There you go, baby. Taking my cock so well." He pants, his eyes closed and his head turned towards the ceiling as his hands caress you.

You run your hands up his stomach and his chest, feeling how strong he is, how warm his skin feels, using him as leverage to go even deeper. You take him in until his tip slides down your throat, stopping only to swallow around his length, your throat squeezing him, making him smile.

"Shit —grunts— knew you'd be good at this, baby. Think you're ready for me?" He asks and you open your watery eyes, finding his. You nod, your cheeks moving up in a smile. "Good. Tap me twice and I'll stop, alright? As much as I would love to hear it, I don't need anyone hearing you gag on my cock." He says, and you moan in response, gripping on his thighs to support yourself.

Then he thrusts out of your throat, going back in and repeating a few times before going harder, pulling almost all the way before going back in, progressively intensifying his movements, eventually properly fucking your mouth.

"This mouth was —grunts— made for this, baby. Fucking — grunts — made for me." He pants, his pace violent and needy, all the desire he cultivated these past few weeks taking control over him, making him almost forget it's your mouth around this cock and not your pussy.

You tap his thigh twice and he immediately lets go of you, pulling out and taking a short step back. He stares down at you, pulling your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

"Too much for you, doll? It didn't felt like it." He teases. Your throat was open and inviting, no sign of gaging or rejection from it.

"Just need to breath a little." You say, out of breath, firmly stroking him. He bends down and kisses your forehead.

"You're doing great, baby. Just a little more." He says, taking a step further, looking for your mouth. You open it with a small and breathy ah, and he pushes in until his tip goes down your throat. You grab his pants to steady yourself.

He starts gently, slowly applying force and speed to his thrusts, until he's fucking you again.

You moan, enjoying how firmly he's holding the sides of your head, how he's using your mouth, how overpowering and strong he is. How it's hard to keep yourself steady with the force of his thrusts, how nasty and wet the whole things sounds, your drool dripping down your chin.

You can't help but remember that first night, him standing in front of you, pulling your chin up and pouring scotch from his mouth into yours.

You whimper and tap him again, and he grunts frustrated, stopping instantly.

You love how he doesn't hesitate in stopping, even when he clearly doesn't want to. It makes you trust him; want to do anything he wants.

"You okay?" He pants. His tip, pink and painfully hard, dripping with himself and your drool. A string of saliva and precum still connecting him to your mouth.

"Just don't wanna make a mess on my dress." You say, pulling it down your shoulders, lowering it until your waist.

He grunts, frowning and cupping your breasts, giving them a firm squeeze. Then pushes your shoulders back, laying your back on the bed, keeping your knees on the floor while holding firmly below your armpits.

He sucks on your nipple, closing his eyes as he twirls his tongue around it, making you moan.

"Hmm, so soft, baby." He whispers looking into your eyes, getting up and rubbing his tip on your nipple, letting a small groan out.

You smile nervously at him, afraid of what he's gonna do. How much rougher he's gonna get with the new angle.

Not that you're planning on stopping him...

He takes a step closer to you, grabbing himself close to his base and guiding his tip to your mouth, his cock wobbling slightly with it's own weight.

"Open. Tongue out." He instructs, and you don't think twice before obeying. "You're a good girl when you want to, aren't you, babygirl?" He asks with an amused smile while carefully pulling your hair back, making you smile back at him.

The tenderness of his words and touch a stark contrast to the situation you're in.

He slaps his tip on your tongue a few times, his weight sinking your tongue on your teeth, the wet sound making you moan.

He stops, his tip hovering above your tongue.

"Lick it." He says, his voice low and stern.

You moan and support yourself on your elbows to reach him, rolling your tongue around his tip. He laughs at the effort you're making to reach him and lowers himself, letting you lie back in the bed, and you suck him into your mouth, moaning at his taste.

He pushes in and you massage his balls while he thrusts in and out of your throat, gently at first, then more roughly. The new angle allowing him to fuck your mouth like it is your pussy.

"Good, baby. Play with them for daddy, c'mon." He pants. "Gonna make me fucking cum like this."

You moan as he keeps going.

Feral, rough, desperate and needy even.

Al those texts, all those photos, all those calls and dirty promises fogging his mind, making him wanna savour this experience, finally having you.

After all he doesn't know when the next time's gonna be.

One thrust goes particularly hard and you gag around him, squeezing his cock. Instead of pulling out, though, he pushes even further. Supporting his elbows on the mattress besides your head, he almost lies on top of you, holding himself deep inside your throat, sinking your head on the mattress.

He grunts loudly, and you dig your nails on the back of his thighs. You don't get mad at him, though. Somehow you like it, you like how selfish he's being, how he doesn't even care to ask if you're okay.

You like to think he's had a tough day at work, he's stressed and worked up, and you are the one helping him through it, you are the one making him feel better.

"Fuck — grunts — gonna cum, baby. Do you want it in your mouth, huh? Wanna go downstairs and talk to people with a filthy mouth?" He asks and you nod, looking up at him, making him grunt with the vibrations when you do your best to say a desperate 'yes' with his cock buried inside your throat, as tears start to roll down your cheeks and you tug tighter on his thigh.

He gets up and pulls out, keeping just his tip inside your mouth, and you eagerly suck on it, rolling your tongue around it, stroking him deep and fast, twisting your fists, desperate for his release.

To finally have what he's been promising you this whole time.

"Fuck— Are you gonna spit, baby?" He asks and you frown, shaking your head. Of course you won't. "Good." He smiles. "Then don't swallow yet, I wanna see it."

He grunts and throbs in your hand before you feel the first rope covering your tongue. You moan and look into his eyes, rolling your tongue around his tip and massaging his balls. He tightens his grip on your hair.

"Shit — grunts — like that." He says quietly.

You keep working with all you've got, one hand on his balls, the other stroking him tight and steady, your lips tightly wrapped around his tip and your tongue twirling around it, gathering his cum.

His hushed grunts and moans and his hand pulling on your hair only encouraging you to keep going.

When he's finished he pulls his hips back, trying to pull out of your mouth, but you don't let him go, moving along and sucking him harder.

"Greedy fucking mouth." He laughs, caressing your hair and looking — you could swear almost adoringly — at you. "Fuck, baby." He pants when you loosen your grip around his tip. "Let me see it." He says, pulling your head back, and you open your mouth, rolling his cum on your tongue, playing with it. "Swallow." He says with a frown and you do, opening your mouth to show it to him. He smiles, his eyes alternating between your eyes and your mouth. "Good girl." He praises, and your feel your clit twitch.

He takes a step back and pulls you up, laying you on your bed, one hand besides your head and the other cupping your pussy, his face mere inches away from yours.

"You've made a mess on your underwear, poor baby." He mocks you, digging his finger on the wet spot in your panties. "Is this what you wanted to show me, pumpkin? How wet you get after not listening to me? After being such a brat?" He asks, pressing the fabric against your leaking core.

"Please, Mr. York." You beg, rolling your hips and pressing yourself against his hand.

"Oh, you think you deserve it, baby?" He asks, raising his brows and you nod, your brows furrowing when he takes his hand underneath your panties, making you whimper as his fingers go up and down your folds. He grunts and looks down when he feels just how wet you really are. "But what did I tell you about this dress? Huh?" He asks, and you tug on the shirt covering his arms.

"You — hmm — you told me to not wear — ah — it." You say, your words intertwined with moans as his movements become more intentional, teasing your entrance and circling your clit.

"And what did you do, pumpkin?" His voice breathy.

"I wore it." You admit, smiling widely, proud of your antics.

"And you still think you deserve to cum after it all?" He asks and you nod, furrowing your eyebrows, not able to look away from his eyes. "Why's that, pumpkin?" He goes faster.

Oh, fuck him.

"Because I need to." You say, your voice small and high as you feel your core burn with need.

"Well I had to finish work today with a painful hard on because of that photo you've sent me. And it was not the first time that's happened." He says, and you whimper. You know you're fucked. "So I think the least you can do to pay me back is ache for me until bedtime." He says with a smile. "What do you think, baby?"

"Hmm... Dave." You moan, frustrated, tightening your grip on his shirt, your orgasm starting to form.

"Nice talking to you, baby." He says with a smile, giving your lips a peck. Then he lies down on top of you, letting all of his weight go and kissing you, groaning when he tastes himself on your mouth. "Stinky." He says when he pulls away, removing his fingers from under your panties — making again a pathetic whine come out of your mouth — and pressing them against your lips, making you suck them, tasting yourself.

He pulls away and starts fixing your dress, pulling it back up. "Can't wait to talk to Carol." You say, and his eyes darken. He stops his movements and lifts you up abruptly, making you hold onto him.

"Gotta wash this filthy mouth of yours." He says, finishing your dress before looking around, pointing at a different door than the one he walked in by. "Is that a bathroom?"

"Uhum." You respond and he hurriedly pushes you towards it, his hand on your waist. You walk in and he lets go of you. "You're really gonna do it?" You laugh.

"Don't trust you." He says, quickly opening your cabinet and taking your toothbrush out. "Not that I think Carol remembers what I smell like... But I know you'd love to find out." He adds, putting toothpaste on it and running it under the water quickly.

"You know me so well." You say sweetly, wrapping your arms around his waist. He allows you, pulling your hair away from your face.

"Open." And you do, letting him brush the top and then bottom of your teeth. "Smile." And you do, scrunching your eyes as he brushes the front of your teeth. "Tongue." And you poke your tongue out. He brushes it, testing to see how far he could go, stoping when you furrow your brows, not wanting you to gag — again, anyways.

You feel almost gross when you realize he's so good at brushing someone else's teeth because he probably washes his daughters'. But thinking of him taking care of them makes you tighten your embrace.

Then he washes your toothbrush, putting it back in it's place and going behind you, touching his hips to yours. He pulls all your hair back and holds it in his left fist. He kisses below your ear and leans forward, pushing you on top of the sink so he can turn the faucet on, cupping his right hand underneath it and looking at your reflection on the mirror.

"Go on." And you bend lower, taking some water from his hand in your mouth, swishing it around, spitting it out on the sink as he dries his hand, his other hand still holding your hair. "Let me check." He says, pulling gently on your hair to turn your head and cupping your right cheek, kissing you, rolling his tongue around yours. "Better." He smiles.

"Thank you." You say and he lets go of your hair, turning your head back and fixing your hair back over your shoulders, kissing the top of your head before walking out of the bathroom.

"Thank you, baby. You did amazing." He says, already back in your bedroom.

"Gonna go downstairs." You say, following him as he walks towards your full body mirror. "Although I can't decide if you've gotten me so tired I'm starving or you've fed me enough I'm full... What do you think?" You ask, stopping behind him and fixing his collar while he looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his pants, his face flushed and his lips red.

"You're disgusting." He says, staring at your reflection.

"And you love it." You smile at him. His own smile a testimony to just how much he loves it.

He turns around and kisses you again, a deep and needy kiss, like he's trying to take something out of you. Like he's trying to cling to this moment for as long as he can, to memorize what it feels like to be with you.

"So... Mr. York? Did I live up to the hype?" You ask when he pulls away, knowing he'll be confused by it.

"Did you what?" He asks, his whole face scrunching at your question, making you laugh.

"Was I as good as you thought? Was I worth all the wait?" You ask again, fixing his hair when he squeezes your waist.

"You're always so much better than I think pumpkin." He says, kissing you again, pulling on your hair, maneuvering your face to deepen the kiss.

You really are. He didn't even want to hire a tutor at first, but he knew you weren't going anywhere as soon as he landed eyes on you.

He grinds his hips on you and you moan, making him pull away abruptly. "Can't start this all over again, can we?" He asks with a smile, an — almost adorable — blush on his cheeks.

"Uh-huh. You need to go back." You say, biting his lower lip before letting him go, walking him to the door.

You open it, making sure no one's around before pushing him out. He goes into the bathroom on the dance hallway and you lock yourself back in your bedroom.

You throw yourself on your bed, staring at the fan that's hanging right in the middle of your ceiling.

You just had Dave exactly where you wanted him. And thinking about it makes you feel... Guilty.

Guilty and silly.

Guilty for choking on the dick of a married man.

Silly for believing he could maybe feel something for you.

Who guarantees he doesn't do the very same thing to every woman in his office, every woman he meets in his business trips?

You feel the same gut-wrenching things you felt the night before, having his "perfect husband" fa��ade crumble before your eyes.

Him doing this to you made you feel special and nasty in ways you craved right after the first time you saw him, but imagining him doing this to other women...

It makes you feel bad for Carol. Makes you feel like telling her to go out and find herself a lover too.

Because if he can do it... So can she.

And if making a sexually frustrated husband cum felt so good... Maybe helping the wife wouldn't hurt.

It's staring to darken when you walk back downstairs.

"Hi, baby. You're feeling better?" Your mom asks when you stop by the table Carol and her are starting to clean to see if you can find some leftovers.

"Hey, mom." You greet her with a smile, grabbing a hotdog and a bun. "I am, yeah. Better." You say, your voice more destroyed than you expected.

"Oh, are you okay, sweetie? What happened to your voice?" Carol asks, concerned. She didn't know you weren't feeling well.

'Your husband's cock — literally and figuratively — fucked it, Ms. York.' You think to yourself as you assemble a monstrosity of a hotdog.

"Oh, I fell asleep. Was feeling a bit sick, so I went to my room and ended up sleeping. Now it's like this." You lie.

"Oh, darling." She says. "If you need to, please stay home tomorrow, I can help the girls study just fine." She rushes to say, and you laugh with the way she's talking to you the same way your mom does.

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna feel better by tomorrow, thank you, though." You say.

"Well, just call me in case you don't, it's fine." She reassures you.

"Thank you." You say before taking a bite of your hotdog. "Hm, let me help you." You say with you mouth full, taking half of the dishes she was gonna carry inside.

"Thank you, honey." She says, and you two walk inside. "Oh, that looks delicious!" She says when you take another bite of your hotdog. You offer her some, and she laughs it off.

You've never thought about Carol, you realize. She's always there, but for you it was always just Dave. With his big hands, wide shoulders, deep voice and overall overwhelming presence.

But now that you're thinking about her you notice her silky hair, her warm smile, her motherly personality, the way she's always been nothing but nice to you, the girls, Dave.

You think about what Dave said, that she probably doesn't remember what he tastes or smells like, and you wonder if he does. When was the last time he tried to do something for her? To make her feel like a woman, and not just a mother?

You're letting your mind wander, and you fear Dave's reading your thoughts when you look out the window.

Judging by his face...

I genuinely love this series so much, ugh. I love Dave and I really love the idea of having Carol entering the mix, but how easy is it gonna be to convince her? To not make her feel betrayed when she finds out about you two?

ily, thank you so much for all the support y'all give me 🩷

Also, if you liked this I think you'd really love this and this 🩷

My Masterlist 🩷

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@cruelfvkingsummer @creedslove @casa-boiardi @laiisleitte @paanchusblog @staywildflowahchild

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Swing

Chapter Three: Robin and a Million Wrong Guesses 

Notes:folks, i'm not going to lie, this isn't my best work. Unfortunately for myself I started another fic while writing this one and for some reason my only ideas are for that fic now. I promise, it'll get better...or maybe I'll just give up! we shall see. thank you for all the likes and reblogs, it means a lot!“So, then Dallas is your favorite character?” Robin asks, sitting at a barstool by the kitchen island. Steve and Robin have been filling the time between the arrival of food and Eddie by debating who the best Outsiders character is. “No, dude, Dallas is kinda mean sometimes! I just think he’s hot.” Steve retorts. “Well, if we’re just going by looks then Cherry is my favorite.” Robin smirks over at Steve before saying, “I always took you for a Sodapop kinda guy anyway.” Steve tilts his head, thinking about it a little. “Yeah, I guess. He tries to help out his brothers as best as he can and in the end he gets his heart broken by the girl he is in love with. Sounds about right!” Steve gives a weak chuckle. “No, I meant the fact that you are both willing to do anything for the people you love,” she starts, “But you’re also such pretty boys.” she adds before the moment can get too mushy for either of them. 

As Steve predicted, Eddie and the pizza showed up at the same time. “Ya know, I’ve never actually seen The Outsiders.” Eddie shares, pulling a few slices onto his plate before coating them with the little packet of red pepper flakes. “Seriously,” Robin questions, “I mean you at least read it, right?” There is a moment of silence as they all find a place to sit in the living room. Steve and Robin on the couch and Eddie sprawled out in the big chair Robin was in earlier. “Why would I?” Eddie shrugs as he starts to chow down on his first slice. Robin and Steve exchange a glance and chuckle a little before Robin says “Because it was required reading junior year…” “Was it? Man, seems like ages ago. I don’t know, man. Maybe I did read it, but all the books they made us read were shit. I like to get lost in a book and I couldn’t really relate to Pip from Great Expectations.” Everyone laughed a little trying to picture Eddie really diving into the woes of a young man trying to climb the social and financial ladder all while trying to woo a girl. 

“Okay, maybe I seriously misjudged the book.” They are about thirty minutes into the movie and Johnny and Ponyboy are running away after killing the Soc to try and find Dallas. Steve laughs a little, “Yeah, you think! It’s actually a really interesting story, right?!” Robin is lying across the sofa with her feet in Steve’s lap and Eddie has turned in the chair to get a better view of the TV, so his back is against an arm rest and his legs are thrown over the other armrest. “So who is your favorite character so far?” Robin asks. Earlier Steve and Robin decided that a person's type could be determined by who their favorite Outsiders character is. For example, Robin’s favorite character is Cherry and Robin has a thing for cute redheads. Steve’s favorite is Dallas because he is a “bad boy” with a heart of gold. “Sodapop!” Eddie answers without hesitation and Robin’s eyes get big as they drift over to lock with Steve’s. She purses her lips and tilts her head toward Steve as if to say “very interesting”. 

After the movie was over, the trio let the credits roll as Robin and Steve let Eddie talk through and dissect the whole story (like he should’ve done junior year). When he’s done going over metaphors and character archetypes, Robin asks again, “So is Soda still your favorite character?” “Of course,” Eddie half-shouts, throwing his hands up, “why wouldn’t he be?” Robin snickers a little and slips a sideways glance before explaining her “Outsiders type” theory to Eddie. “Okay?” he says puzzled, “So I have a thing for pretty guys who are nice. Is that really a surprise?” He shrugs as he settles back into the chair. Steve can feel his face getting warmer and he can’t tell if it’s because Eddie just confirmed for 100% fact that he is Eddie’s type or if it’s because he can feel Robin staring at him trying to get him to look over and have another eye contact conversation. “So, I guess I can rule out Gareth,” Robin states sitting up on the sofa while Steve still refuses to make eye contact with her. Eddie’s brows knit together in confusion and he starts to look around a little thinking he missed something and somehow ended up in a different conversation, “Rule out Gareth for what? What did I miss?” “As the mystery man you keep ditching us for,” Robin wiggles her fingers when she says mystery. Eddie just laughs, “Oh, yeah that. Yeah I wouldn’t go for Gareth, but that’s not to say he hasn’t tried.” Steve can tell by the way Eddie is shifting in his chair that he is trying to move the conversation away from this topic. He isn’t the best at keeping secrets anyway and especially not now that Robin is pressing him for information. “Oh really?” Robin’s bangs shoot up behind her eyebrows, “what has he tried?” She asks, leaning forward to place her elbows on her knees while she listens. Steve perches forward a little as well, he never knew Gareth tried anything and, let's be honest, Steve is known to get a little jealous sometimes. 

“Nothing really,” Eddie tries to brush it away, waving his hand in the air like it can actually push the conversation away,  “when he first joined Hellfire he would stay behind and help me with character sheets and one shots and stuff. The whole time I thought he was just super into D&D, but it turns out that he thought of them as dates.” Eddie was fiddling with his rings now and Steve huffed a little as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Pretty presumptuous, if you ask me.” It comes out as more of a mumble, but both Robin and Eddie hear and give him a look that says “what the fuck are you doing”. Steve rolls his eyes as he gets up to take their trash from dinner into the kitchen. “If it’s not someone we already know, then why are you being so secretive about it?” Even in the kitchen, Steve can hear Robin trying to whisper. There is a long pause and for a moment Steve thinks that maybe Eddie answered so quietly that he just couldn’t hear him. “Unless,” Robin starts, “it IS someone we know and that’s why you won’t tell us!” “Woah, wait a-” Eddie tries to defend himself, but Robin has already started shouting theories of who it could be and why Eddie would be hiding it. Steve makes his way back into the living room to find Robin standing on the couch slightly pacing as she rambles about who it could possibly be. Eddie is standing, staring up at her with a look of hopelessness on his face. Eddie and Steve look at each other, “should we just tell her?” Steve’s eyes ask. “She was bound to find out sometime,” Eddie’s eyes responded with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. “Robin-” Steve shouts, hands on his hips, she continues to ramble on about how it can’t be Argyle because there was no reason to hide that from anyone. “It would have to be someone super embarrassing, or maybe,” she pauses her pacing on the couch, “maybe he isn’t even out yet and that’s why you wont tell us!” “Robin!” Steve continues, if she would just stop for a second they’ll just tell her. “Oh Eddie, NO!” She suddenly stops her pacing and hops to the floor grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders and giving him a little shake, “It’s Tommy Hagan isn’t it?!” 

“WHAT?!” Both Eddie and Steve shout in shock before the whole room falls silent and still. Robin still has her hands on Eddie’s shoulders and her eyes seem to be pleading with him to tell her it isn’t true. Steve still has his hands on his hips, but his jaw had dropped nearly to the floor at the assumption that Eddie would go for someone like Tommy. Hadn’t Eddie just said he liked pretty boys who were nice? Tommy H was certainly not that! Why the hell would Eddie date Tommy? “Well I was just going to tell you who it was, but now I’ve got to hear this theory!” Eddie starts laughing so hard that he bends slightly at the waist and grabs his sides. Steve is still standing there, fuming over a relationship that wouldn’t happen in any world, and Robin is now looking at Eddie like he’s lost it. 

After being able to look at Robin without breaking out into a fit of laughter, Eddie collapses on the couch and pulls Robin down with him leaving Steve standing still unsure of what exactly was going on. “Go on, tell me how you came to the conclusion that my secret lover is Tommy fucking Hagan.” Eddie can’t even get the sentence out without laughing. “Secret. Lover?” Steve ground out, giving Eddie an incredulous look. It was bad enough that Robin guessed Tommy, Eddie didn’t need to suggest anything further. Robin ignores Steve and barrels into explaining her thought process. “Well, it would have to be someone who we all know AND someone who would be embarrassing in some way or another. I would be pretty embarrassed to be dating the douchebag who slams people’s heads into lockers for laughs. But, no judgment here, my dear sweet Eddie, it’s hard enough for us gays here in Bumfuck, Indiana. If you really like him, then I’ll be happy to keep your secret.” Eddie is sent into another fit of giggles, meanwhile Steve lets the frustration sink in. He can’t believe Robin truly thinks Eddie would date some dipshit like Tommy! “You must be joking!” Steve starts, causing Robin to turn fully to face him and Eddie’s laughter to die down. “You really think that Eddie would willingly go out with the guy who threatened to dunk his head in a toilet or light his hair on fire?” There is a long pause as Steve looks at Robin in disbelief. “Well…that’s part of the reason he doesn’t want to tell anyone.” She states again. “Oh Jesus, Robin!” Steve throws his hands in the air before they come down with a sharp smack against his thighs. “Look, Robs, it was hilarious at first,” Eddie says, drawing her attention away from Steve's mini mental break, “But, I do have higher standards than that.”

“Then who?! Who could it possibly be?!” “ME, Robin! Did you ever think that, maybe, it could possibly be me?” Steve asks rhetorically with eyes wide. Both Eddie and Robin are now staring at him like he was in the middle of growing a third head. There is a long silence. A couple minutes stretches into 10 minutes of silence. Robin looking between the two boys, Eddie looking at Steve with adoration and looking back at Robin to gauge her reaction, but through the whole time, Steve kept his eyes on Robin. It must’ve been twenty minutes before someone made a sound and when they did, it was Robin laughing.

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

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Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

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You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[heartofholland]

tom recs <3

hi guys! here is a fic rec list i made of all the fics i’ve loved. personally, i consider myself an avid fic reader so i have read a shit ton of fics. these are just my highlights. let me know if you want more like this! and if you do end up reading any of these please make sure you REBLOG them to spread the goodness. these writers work their ass off and deserve all the credit in the world. enjoy! <3

SERIES

riding my by @worldoftom this fic is barely started but i love everything this writer puts out. very smutty, very hot. innocence kink check!

breaking curfew by @wazzupmrstark ASSHOLE TOM! my weakness. enemies to lovers but make it FWB. what I wish my summer camp was like instead of my thighs sticking to chairs and lice outbreaks.

eighteen by @angelic-holland corruption/innocence kink! basically all smut but damn do i want bad boy tom.

the situationship by @fairytelling can’t say enough about this fic. the definition of falling in love with your best friend. if my relationship isn’t like this i don’t want it.

happiness is a butterfly by @blissfulparker soft mob!tom and they’re forbidden soulmates! updates are WELL worth the wait!

i only feel you by @stuckonspidey the first time i read my watch thought i was working out for how high my heart rate was. shit keeps you on your toes. there is a sequel fic but just a heads up you will want to unstan tom on multiple occasions.

make me love you by @mrs-hollandstan frat boy player tom turned soft. mans does a whole 180. fuck dom.

perfidy by @peeterparkr couldn’t be more obsessed with this fic. they’re both so fucking stupid but too afraid to get hurt. also the social media posts are so fucking cute and crucial to the story 

eloped by @worldoftom getting married to tom in the most beautiful vacation spot? sign me the fuck up

you. by @txmhoelland i think there’s definely worse men to be set up with as a PR stunt.

erotas by @farfromparker i have definely read this fic for more days than i’ve been on this earth but every time i lose my goddamn mind

dare you to move by @starksparker-archive the best version of FWB tom is when you’re his roommate…

gone by @dahliaspidey this one… hurts. but i just know it will bounce back.

take me out by @angelic-holland warning this one is really dark. like serial killers. but it was so fascinating i am completely obsessed with the psychology of it all. jake is featured and please don’t imagine the mr. music the entire time like i did </3

single all the way by @heyhihellowhatsup0 i read this whenever i need a lil christmas pick me up

sweetener by @keepingupwiththeparkers cute awkward relationship. it is so real i feel like it could actually happen to me.

ex on the beach by @heyhihellowhatsup0 THE ANGST GIVES ME LIFE

SMUT

bartender by @t-o-m-holland tom happens to own your favorite bar. your subtle flirts aren’t working. the banter between reader and the fam makes me wish i didn't have social anxiety.

siren by @rosyparkers don’t get me wrong i will scream ACAB til the day i die but police officer tom could definitely get it.

best of three by @mrs-hollandstan one of the 3000 threesome fics i have saved. imagine not getting one of the hottest men but TWO.

roommates by @hollandbaby what a coincidence we both want to fuck each other! this checks all the kinks my man. i’ve read this probably no less than 100 times.  

that was that by @moorehollandplz dom!tom but something flips and he’s never been more gentle. mans got both sides of the playing field covered.

know your enemy by @angelic-holland short but sweet. hate sex is always hotter behind the scenes.

wasabi by @angelic-holland literally everything about alice is phenomenal but this is on of my faves. when i read this it makes me feel smarter. also body shots.

say good night by @madmadmilk this writers work never fails to blow me away but this time she managed to encapsulate my entire life. (minus the execution with a very hot and experienced best friend).

buwygf-ib by @hholyholland just ignore tomdaya for a sec and take in the hottest dom!tom i’ve ever witnessed.

cocky by @sykoxartist yeah he’s an asshole but he’s your asshole. at least that’s what he thinks.

sovereign by @farfromparker sub!tom is so hot. man will beg for DAYS.

summer vacation by @kidney9-9  when is hate sex ever like…. not hot as fuck?

ride by @tomhollandsstan face riding. period.

coincidence by @starshinebucky actor!reader and tom fuck… at least they’ll have good chemistry next time.

skin by @hollandbaby dom!tom is not ok with being a sub. unless it’s for you.

you can bet on it by @kiwi-bitchez all of this writers smut makes my pussy throb. this is my fave. just wait for the twist.

a rose blooms by @cornacopicimagines prince!tom drives me wild. but wait til he finds out you’re not a virgin.

begging by @raewritesfiction tom makes you beg for it.

self reflection by @stuckonspidey this is actual proof tom has a praise kink.

minor inconvenience by @angel-spidey toms an idiot but at least he can get you off.

flesh by @starshinebucky cocky tom kills me.

keeping him nice and warm by @marvelouspeterparker mob!tom the gif itself to sends me.

after hours by @cornacopicimagines never had sexual tension with a teacher but this will do.

ANGST

josslyn by @multiharlot messy situation but reader handles it like a champ. if your heart isn’t broken enough, the last line will make sure it’s unfixable for days on end.  

moral of the story by @kelieah listen to the song while you’re at it to make your cry sesh take a turn for the worst. 

cherry by @xoluvx this one hurts real bad. so does the song. 

a complicated love story by @samhollandssweaters an emotional rollercoaster for real.

he dies in the end by @allfandomxreader ignore the title and just cry your eyes out with me.

eighteen by @fancyxholland you’ll be confused why it’s in the angst category but trust me.

all the lies by @peteywillproceed getting cheated on but the girl is toms gf, how do you tell him. 

memories by @nycparkers i sob to this whenever i need a good cry. 

don’t be a fool by @nycparkers breakups that dont end messily make me so fucking jealous.

FLUFF

kiss currency by @madmadmilk borderline smut. confused and oblivious harrison. dialogue inspires me to talk to males.  

plank all over me by @waitimcomingtoo FILRTY TOM! THE BANTER! i really am a whore for well written dialogue. there’s additional parts but i won’t spoil.

 playing cupid by @marvelobsessedteenager you set everyone else up but wait a damn minute how did you forget about tom?

 little flirt by @webslinger-holland oh to flirt with tom while he’s sweaty from intensely dancing for the lip sync battle.

pour it out by @rhapsodyparker i don’t know what it is but famous!reader going on talk shows or having interviews and they ask the reader cheeky questions about tom might be one of my many kinks…

hubby by @t-holland2080 it’s the small things that make me want to bawl my eyes out for being so lonely.

going live by @redrebecca the dialogue makes me cry of happiness! tom doing a live (what a concept).

paddy’s crush by @tom-holland-is-spiderman jealous tom but of his younger brother.

 wannabe by @sailingintothenight the cliffhanger at the end demands a second part.

flawless by @missnxthingg  tom is a simp.

you and me by @sunshinehollandd best friend tom makes me soft.

dick appointments. web shooters. the duality of a man. by @porterporker  it gets a lil steamy but man is “web shooter” a funny name for a dick.

best day by @thollandss dad!tom gives me baby fever even though i am a virg.

 tom asks your dad by @blissfulparker can i just skip through the bad boyfriends and just marry the love of my life already.

baked chicken by @waitimcomingtoo there isn’t a category for awkward but if there was this would be in it.

lover boy by @starshinebucky  tom being so oblivious you like him that you need to call for backup.

afterglow by @wickedholland i wish someone would treat me like this when im drunk instead of leaving me to hold my own hair back.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

A Thousand Year Love ~ Ryomen Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader

Okay, I wrote the Reader's name as "Kitsune", but that's mostly because I envisioned a nine tailed fox without an actual name, that everyone would just call her "Fox" as if she wasn't anyone worth naming, despite her rank.

This is a little fic which explored Sukuna's supposed backstory, 1000 years prior to he action of Jujutsu Kaisen - Idk if it's accurate, I didn't yet read the manga, I still have 6 more episodes from the anime, but I had this idea and I couldn't stop myself from writing about it.

Most of it builds up the bond that very slowly grows between Sukuna and Kitsune, then snaps during a scene somewhere around episode 4 of the anime, when Sukuna takes over Yuji's body, and Yuji can't switch for a while, but with enough altercations that it's not exactly the same as in the said episode.

Hope you enjoy this <3

-------------

"What are we doing here...?" Kitsune asked her parents in a voice that was barely audible as she looked left and right at the huge estate's gardens.

Estate? Rather said, palace, since this place was grandiose - Most likely, even more so than the Emperor's own Palace, the girl thought to herself. Everywhere she looked, cherry, plum and pear trees were in blossom, even though it wasn't their time. Statues and little shrines, along with various small pools with flowers, lanterns and lotuses were scattered as much as her vision would allow her to see. Looking up at the estate, she realised just how small she was in comparison to the intimidating and imposing energies radiating all over the place.

"You are going to meet someone very important, dear." her mother spoke, yet her voice wasn't as gentle as usual, rather, it sounded stiff, on the edge...Almost afraid, maybe? It was foreign for young Kitsune, as she has been confined in her little palace her whole life under the pretext of keeping her safe. But it did exactly the opposite, she believed, considering she itched to explore and go on adventures with each second passing. "Who is it?" she asked as soon as they stepped inside the palace...But it was so dark, save for the red, malicious light from the lanterns and candles lit in just the perfect places so it would guide them to the room they had to go to. "...You will find out soon." her father snapped at her, and she could only frown, her fluffy ears flicking as her tails wrapped protectively around herself. She knew something was wrong, and she had half a mind to believe she was brought there as a sacrifice for some War Deity that would allegedly save them from this era of war...Or something along the lines.

After a longer walk than expected, they found themselves in front of two large, red doors, and without any kind of reticence, Kitsune effortlessly slammed the doors open and saw a dimly lit room with a few stairs and a throne where a man with short, kinda spiky pink hair, garbed in a loose, white kimono was smugly sprawled over that royally embellished chair, while tons of gorgeous women dressed in the most luxurious kimonos, their hair done up with intricate headpieces and flowers that would put any living being to shame...

But what is this about? Kitsune was more confused than anything, and she could only step inside the room, slowly and carefully, before turning to look at her parents, who had a pitiful look in their eyes.

"What is going on?" Kitsune demanded an answer, her voice agitated, her body ready to go into a fight or flight mode, her eyes darting rapidly between her parents and the man on the throne whose name she wasn't interested in finding out. "Well, darling...You see...You had to find you a husband. You are old enough to be married, and you can't stay with us forever. You need to have a family and children. You are the princess of the Fox clan, there is nobody more beautiful than you -..." her mother tried to reason, but the young girl wasn't stupid. She understood what was going on. "No. No. If you want to speak - Then speak the truth. Don't lie to me. This guy is strong, isn't he? Some kind of demonic thing that everyone is afraid off. You are giving me away to this guy...To be his...Thousandth concubine in his harem or something, just because you're too weak to take care of our kin. That's the truth, isn't it? Go on, admit it. Stop trying to sugar coat the situation." her nine tails opened from around her in a large, undulating fan, making her aggression obvious, as fire began to immolate the tips of her fur. "SHUT UP, IMPERTINENT, UNRULY CHILD!" her mother slapped her face, not wanting their benefactor to hear his future concubine speaking so foul of him. "You are a woman, and the princess, nonetheless, and your role is to continue our kin and obey your family and husband. Do not speak unless you are allowed to!" but before her mother could grab her face, Kitsune's tail slapped her hand away, and she stepped back. "I am nobody's toy. I will not obey anyone's orders. Not yours, and not his. I will not be just another concubine for some disgusting, good for nothing lecher with no redeeming quality." the girl snarled at them, ready to make her escape out of there, if needed. "If your sister was alive, she would have sacrificed herself for the greater good of this family! You are nothing more than a selfish brat!" it was her father's time to accuse her, which made her ears perk up, while her tails completely deflated. "Yes, of course, how could I forget. It was me who should have died, not my perfect elder sister. Sorry, but you should curse the Gods, not me for that. But, since it seems that my life is meaningless to you, then I will make you a favour! I will end it myself! I'm sure you'll be happy without me, won't you? Ahh...But how will you save our war-ridden? Too bad I won't be alive to witness your demise, huh?" with a dark chuckle, Kitsune's hand went inside her kimono, taking the small kodachi sword and unsheathing it, hearing only the gasps and shrieks of fright from the harem girls. Kitsune could only guess that these girls were all high-born and unfamiliar to the horrible things happening outside of these walls. "What the hell are you doing, you idiotic child?! Cease this madness at once!" her mother shrieked at her, lounging towards her, trying to stop herself from impaling that blade through her body, and yet...

The second the girl launched her hand down to stab herself...She got stopped. The whole place became instantly silent, save for the sound of a blade bouncing down as it fell on the wooden floor. "Enough." a dark, annoyed voice resounded through the place as Kitsune's wrists were grasped by the man's...Front hands? While her body was immobilized in an embrace by his other two arms. "I was promised a beautiful princess as a concubine, and you failed to do as you promised. Leave, before I get bored and kill you." he threatened the two adult fox people who scurried away in a hurry, leaving behind their only daughter without a second thought. "You, however...Will remain here." he chuckled in her ear, but Kitsune wasn't one to be messed with. Her answer came in the form of lighting up her tails on fire an wrapping them around the man, who hissed and unhanded her, allowing her enough time to go into a corner and get in a fleeing stance. "Why did you stop me? I have no intention of being one of your whores. You should have let me end it right there." she scoffed at the man, who dismissed the bottom pair of arms and laughed. It was almost a psychopathic laugh, she thought, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up - Unsure if it was from fright or disgust. "You amuse me, little vixen. Very much, you amuse me. Having a little fox wag her tails around this place, all fired up, would give some sense of fun, wouldn't you say?" his voice was grating her, and she only wanted to sock him in the jaw. "Keep on dreaming. I'm not your toy, and I'm not here for anyone's entertainment. You have enough girls in this place to amuse you. I'll be going now, and even if you chain me, you can't stop me from achieving my freedom." Kitsune growled at him, slamming open the sliding door that would lead into the balcony, from where she could jump the hell away from there. "You proved you value your life even less than your parents do, so chaining you would do nothing. I have never seen a woman as fiery as you. All the ones I have are the same. Meek, soft...Afraid. Boring. They all like the same things, and hate the same things." he groaned pitifully, evidently bored out of his mind. "They hate you, don't they? You want women, but you don't bother treating them right. Can you get even more typically terrible? Pitiful and disgusting, that's what you are. You just want to break people for your entertainment. You are nothing more than a selfish megalomaniac. No wonder you are in need of entertaining, you are thoroughly boring." Kitsune's degrading words, however, didn't seem to phase the man at all - In fact - It made him laugh. Never, in this life, has he heard anything this degrading before - Everyone tried their best to appeal to his benevolent and merciful side - To at least spare their lives. He was stronger than anyone alive, so nobody dared speak up in front of him. It was obvious she had no idea who he was - All the better - He thought. "Ryomen Sukuna, missy, but you can call me your Emperor." that confident laugh was enough to drive Kitsune up the wall with anger as she stomped to his side and actually punched his jaw. It was annoying - The height difference - As he towered over her entirely, but at least she managed to reach where needed, little miss firecracker. "Piss off." the fox girl growled in anger at him...And yet...He only...Laughed. And he cupped her face, getting his own so close to hers that they could feel each other's breaths. "You. Are. Mine." his grin was so wide and sociopathic that he might as well have had his face split in two. "I will never be yours. I will never be anyone's. I'm not an object. I will not obey anyone. The second you leave me out of your sight, I will flee, and you will never see me again. And if I can't, I will find a way to kill myself. I have nothing to live for, but everything to die for." Kitsune bared her elongated canines at him, and gosh, was she enticing. "And if I get rid of the harem?" he asked, not bothering with everything she talked before. "You'll be a heartless jerk who'll destroy

the lives of so many women." she refuted just as quickly. "And if I don't fuck anyone but you?" he threw that, wanting to fluster her, but the fire in her eyes only ignited even higher. "As usual, you can only think with the wrong head, can't you? There's nothing to you but your stupid little prick. How pathetic. And you call yourself a man. Go die in the war or something." she grabbed him by the loose neck line of his kimono, only to hear him laughing condescendingly. "But darling, that just couldn't possibly happen. I am simply too strong to get killed. Everybody fears my power, why else do you think your parents were so willing to give you away? They were weak, just like you said, and every weakling needs the help of Ryomen Sukuna, Japan's own God of War." this statement made the girl's gorgeous eyes widen in shock...Only to start laughing, almost hysterically. "Oh, bow down to the self proclaimed God of War! Can you believe that! Your majesty, tone down your arrogance, it's gonna get yourself killed! I knew it, you're absolutely useless! All you can do is bark, no bite, little puppy! The only thing intimidating about you is your height, other than that, you are just a generic man who thinks he's all to powerful. How ridiculous." the fox girl couldn't stop her degrading laughing, which confused the man for a while, only to smirk and pick her up bridal style, carrying her out of that room, not letting her get out of his grasp, no matter how much she tried to wiggle or burn him. "I won't let you go until you acknowledge my infinite strength, cute, little fox. But don't think that just because I favour you, I will let you get away with all the shit you called me." his voice sounded darker, more ominously, but it didn't seem to intimidate the girl. "Not in a million years. Not even in your sweetest dreams. You're pathetic and I'll never acknowledge you as anything else but a disgusting, lecherous pig!" she yelled at his face, to which he responded by letting her roughly fall on a soft futon, then crouching by her side and gripping her face just as her mother did before. "Say that again when you'll end up screaming my name as if your life depends on it." he laughed at her before leaving her new room, which she won't leave for a while.

This annoying girl, Sukuna was intrigued by her, but at the same time, he was very tempted into strangling her or snapping her neck - Despite all that fire she lets out, he was curious if she'd end up groveling in self-pity, begging him for mercy, going back on her previous misguided and foolish courage. Wasn't it bad enough that she had no idea who HE was? He also had to endure such disrespect - And even worse - Enjoy it? That little fox bitch was ready to commit seppuku in front of everyone just to prove a point, what the hell else could be more entertaining? All the women he's had were given away by their families as tributes, and none said a word. He was a jerk to them, he fucked them, he mistreated them - Sukuna didn't give a fuck about any woman, man, child, animal...Or any living being in the world, except for himself. All were beneath him - Unworthy, weak, frail -...

And yet, they still lie to his face, trembling as they say all the fake, sweet nothings - "I love you, My Lord" the women would say, their voice shaky, jumping in fright as he'd touch them. He was a rough man, he never knew gentleness, nor mercy, no love - Through all the words spewed by the firey woman, the part where she declared he had no idea how to treat women properly - Yes, it was true, but did he care? Of course not.

Humans were all puppets with whom he could play as much as he wanted - All instruments for his entertaining in this terribly boring world, he would manipulate everyone like dolls on his strings, and when they've exhausted their means of entertaining him, the string will be cut, and the puppets will fall in an abyss of infernal fire.

For the first two weeks, Sukuna and Kitsune were literally acting like a cat chasing a mouse - And each time, the cat would surprise the mouse just as she was about to survive - He was giving her hope of success, only to pick her up by one of her many tails, or embrace her from behind, pick her up, trip her, show up from behind a tree, play with her hair as he came up from a tree behind her, and sometimes, even going as far as to mock her by pointing her the way out of the place.

But very soon, she gave up, and decided to starve herself to death by not leaving her assigned room, ignoring him entirely whenever she'd get visited by him - But that ended in the worst way possible - With her fainting and unable to wake up, and Sukuna freaking out because he didn't want his little toy to die before she got boring.

He laid next to her on the futon, holding her in his eyes, brushing her hair out of her face, playing with her vivid red hair - She truly looked like a fox in Sukuna's eyes, and he almost felt his heart warm up as he felt up the soft fur on her tails, waiting for his cursed energy to heal her up. After some time, he noticed the little red ball of fur getting smaller and smaller as she cuddled into his chest, resembling a defenseless kit searching for warmth, love and safety from its mother. She was so much smaller than him - So frail, so thin, so soft...So cute? - What was it that he was feeling? Calmness? Protectiveness?

He was furious at her for neglecting her health just so she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of toying with her - But that was also endearing, in its own, messed up way? She would go to such dramatic extremes to prove him wrong...It seemed that no matter what she did, it would still make him enjoy her company.

Whenever he'd fuck one of his harem girls, he wouldn't stay over, not even for a kiss - Hell, he didn't even know most of their names - Why should he? They were all the same to him - But he felt such a strong sense of protectiveness over he - He didn't want to strangle her to death anymore - Maybe just a bit of fun, some teasing, some startling - His hand around her supple neck as she looks up at him with her sparkling eyes, calling out his name - Sukuna, Sukuna - Pleading softly, but desperately to him for her sweet release - Sukuna, Sukuna - And he will be merciful, for once, and give her what she wants.

Just as he was caught in his own, sick fantasy, he felt the girl move and grumble, turning on her back, her small hands flying to rub her eyes awake - And he rolled over her, a playful, teasing smirk on his face as he waited for her to realise the position they were in - And yet, she was still out of it, for her eyes were half-lidded and gleaming, she was still weak from her lack of self-care, and she could only look up at him, dazed..."Sukuna...?" she mumbled in a whispery tone - What is she doing to him?! How dare she entice him so much? He wasn't supposed to be attracted to her in any way, so why...?!

"Relax, sweet-cheeks. I'm here." he spoke in a low voice, not wanting to alert her...Wait, what - "...Thanks." muttering that, she let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes again, the corners of her mouth slightly turned upright as she allowed herself to fall back asleep and rest, not caring too much that she felt a slight pressure on both of her hands, in the form of the demon man pressing his own hands to hers, intertwining their fingers together as he towered over her, watching her chest rise and fall rhythmically as she breathed, her kissable, pink lips just a tiny bit parted. He couldn't stop himself - She was too irresistible, and he was much too insatiable - And he leaned down, pressing his own lips over hers - Gently - Very gently in fact, almost as if afraid of breaking a porcelain doll, as if afraid to crush a snowdrop he just picked from a glade, one just just barely managed to get out from under the remaining, melting snow of early spring. "You'll be the death of me, cutie." he found himself saying as he licked his lips, taking in the sweetness of the kiss.

Since then on, despite not being exactly friendly with the man, the fox girl didn't hate him that much anymore. It even got well enough for them to eat in the same room, or play shogi - The girl beating him at it more often than not, which left mixed feelings in his heart - And then he showed her the musical instruments that the concubines would sometimes use whenever he'd want a banquet and more sinful indulgences. He didn't ask her to play for him, though. He realised that the more he tried to push the girl, the less likely she'll actually do anything he wants.

Even more, the more time they spent together, the more his concubines would get neglected - So much that he was completely drawn to this fox girl and all the other women were completely wiped from his head. - And he started gifting her a bunch of beautiful kimonos, only to find them in front of his room's door, rejected. She didn't want anything from him, nor did she want his favour, so she continued wearing her simple clothes.

Until...

Until one night - It was a special night, really - For the moon was full, and big, and gleaming with such a beautiful silver light that neither of them saw in the many years they've been alive. And Kitsune dressed in one of her festival yukatas and went to the lotus pond, surrounded by a few wisteria trees, as the mirror of the water reflected the celestial orb like sparkling zircons. The fox gingerly jumped in the middle of the sheen, walking on it like a spirit, only her feminine silhouette being seen, as her long hair was gently blown by the warm spring wind and her tails were dancing around her in perfect sync. As her feet moved to the sound of the melody she played on a vertical flute she was given by the owner of the place, Sukuna found himself unable to move from his place on the palace balcony, his sight fixated on the woman's form as she alternated playing the instrument and dancing with ribbon-fans.

Her moves were fluid and mystifying like those of a priestess leading a will'o'wisp to rest into kakuriyo, the land of the dead - what was he supposed to do now? He was confused and mesmerised. He's seen his fair share of beautiful women playing instruments and dancing for him - Hundreds of them, in fact - But none could match the effect this nine tailed fox girl had on him.

This continued days on end, but he never admitted to her that he was stalking her every night, nor that he was completely enchanted and under her spell, at the point of no return.

"I'm going to war tomorrow." he told her one evening as he poured himself some sake. "...Good for you. Finally, more entertaining for the most powerful man on Earth...Or something. Bring me a souvenir when you return, I guess." the girl merely shrugged her shoulders as she took the tea pot and poured herself some tea, not bothering with any reaction. "You're not worried for me, are you? What if I die tomorrow? Will you weep for me?" he leaned forward, taking her chin between his fingers. " 'Course not. You're the one who keeps boasting about how you're the most powerful man on Earth and The God of War or something. Besides - If you die, I will just steal all your money and get the hell out of this place, so I can finally see the world through my very eyes, not through inked letters on paper. I want to be free and fly. Life here is boring. I've had enough years of being home stuck, don't you think?" she snapped at him as she snatched the now empty sake up and poured herself some alcohol. "And what if I promise to take you out to see the world when I return?" he smirked at her, watching her ears perk up a bit at the proposition. "...I don't believe you." she looked away before she could reveal any real emotion in her eyes. "I promise. But you also have to promise to relax around me. You're always on the edge, even if you've been here for a whole year. I saw you play in the winter, jump to collect autumn leaves taken by the wind, pick up fruit after climbing up the trees, and make flower crowns in spring. I saw you get buried completely in snow, only one of your tails being seen, I saw you make fruit wine in autumn, send paper lanterns into the sky and bathe in the lotus ponds. We're not strangers anymore, and I've never hurt you even once. So, do we have a deal?" his hunter-like eyes carefully watched her every reaction, noticing how her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, before biting into it softly - She was nervous, that much was obvious - And Sukuna was now a pro at reading her behaviour. "...I'll try. But if you go back on your promise...I promise you, you won't wake up the next morning." she scoffed, threatening him, but it only ended up making him laugh. "The little kitten has claws, how adorable. That's fair, I'll let you have that." the man chuckled at her, petting her hair just between her ears, making her close her eyes and blush just a tiny bit. He was finally able to reach her - Not by much, but even this much was enough for him...For now.

For a whole month, Kitsune was all alone in the palace - Or so she felt, despite the numerous harem girls and the servants - All who had to obey her every order - But she refused any of that. If she wanted to eat, she would make food for herself. If she wanted to drink, she'd get some herself. If she wanted to bathe, she would prepare the bath herself - Just as she's always done. However, all this time, she was never in need of company. She couldn't handle people, nor their fakeness and many other useless emotions that would only make them vulnerable and susceptible of being used and taken for granted.

She's been through that numerous times while living with her family, and she wasn't about to let that happen again.

Thankfully, Kitsune never felt lonely, nor bored - However, she realised that she actually enjoyed Sukuna's annoying presence, and somehow, she found herself awaiting his coming back sooner.

"Master came back, vacation's over. Take care, everyone...I heard he's been injured. Can you believe it? Never thought demons can bleed." the many rumours circulated around the palace, but the fox girl only snapped at the gossipers, glaring at them to shut up. But she didn't go to greet him, like everyone else did. Instead, she waited until night to go to his room, and she found him on the ground, calmly drinking some sake.

"Ah, look at this, a little fox found its way in my humble abode. What ever could you be doing here, I wonder?" he chuckled teasingly, as she only looked down at him, giving him a slight head tilt, yet no expression on her blank face. "Are you wounded?" she muttered in a low voice, almost half-wanting not to have been heard...But she was. "Ha! So you heard those rumours too, haven't you? How ridiculous! Me? Ryomen Sukuna, the God of War, getting injured? Preposterous!" his bark-like laugh echoed through the place, but it didn't move the girl in any way. Instead, slowly crouched next to him, snatching down the already loose kimono top from his torso, letting it fall down to his chest, as her delicate fingers traced his chest, arm and back, analysing each and every fresh wound and scar alike. "I thought you could heal. Cursed energy magic or something. What you did to me when I passed out. Stupid liar. All you know how to do is to boast to everyone, but you can't even admit that you are still capable of making mistakes sometimes." her voice was obviously pissed off, but not enough to sock him in the jaw again. "Anti-regeneration magic. I didn't know something like that existed. Gimme a break." he scoffed, looking away in mild embarrassment. "Lucky you. Now don't move, or you'll really piss me off." she sneered at him as she made blue fire light up her palms and focused on healing him. It was then that she realised how good it felt to feel someone's bare skin, to feel his muscles, sore from fighting so much. He was finally beginning to look more like a man - A warrior - Not like some obnoxious, bratty, entitled casa nova. "I didn't know you could heal people. It tickles." he smirked slightly, turning his head to watch her focused face. "You don't know many things about me, Sukuna. Don't even bother trying, you'll never be able to, anyway." she scowled at him, but this time, it wasn't as aggressive as usual. "I've always loved a challenge, sugar." he chuckled boastfully, only for her to frown and look at him. "Is that all I am for you? A challenge?" she asked in a softer voice, sounding almost disappointed. "Not anymore. You've always been an enigma for me. You were fun, that's why I kept you around. If you weren't, I'd have killed you. I have no regrets about killing anyone, reason or not. But you got under my skin. I don't want to unveil the enigma behind you anymore. I just want to know you." carefully, his hands found their way on her hips, just before pulling her on his lap, only for her to stiffen up completely, her hands quickly taken off of his skin, as she quickly snapped her head away from him, her face covered by the long hair that resembled the blood he spilled on the battlefield. "Aww, are you shy, cutie~?" his seductive voice was back again, one of his hands reaching up to cup her face - But she couldn't bring herself to speak - Instead, she just gulped and jumped away from him, taking a few deep breaths before getting out of the room, and climbing up to the roof, hugging her legs to her chest, leaning her chin on her knees, her bottom lip bitten into to the point of drawing blood.

What the hell was she thinking, letting herself getting touched like that? By someone like Sukuna, nonetheless, who, if given the chance, would have his way with her, then toss her aside like he did with all the other women in his enormous harem. Her heart was beating so hard, so fast against her chest. It was a foreign feeling that scared her so much that for a long while, she couldn't help but avoid him once again, going out of her way to only leave her room when she was sure he wasn't there. It didn't always work out as she wished, but she still tried nonetheless, as succeeded for most of the time.

"Are you scared of me?" Sukuna asked the girl one night, when he found her softly shedding tears up on the roof. "...No." she offered a monotone answer. "Then why are you avoiding me again? Do you hate me?" he asked again, only for her to hang her head and hug herself. "I realised that I shouldn't be alive. All my life I've known only two emotions - Hatred and Rage - All of them masked by a facade of complete neutrality, passiveness and uncaring. But, now...I can feel my heart beating. And it hurts. I was so ready to throw away my life, and I knew I would have no regrets. I lived for nothing. I have no memories of anything good happening in my life. I thought that...I thought that maybe...I would be able to feel, staying here, with you. I wanted to feel something good, for once. What was that called...Happiness? Love? I wanted to feel those too. I guess it's too much to ask from this cruel life. The second you touched me, I started panicking and I got scared. I was afraid. Not of you, but of the idea of possibly getting hurt. I don't know how to feel, and I don't think I'll ever be able to be a proper being...But maybe...Someday...I will be able to look up at the same sky, at this very same moon, and the very same stars...And smile...And my chest won't be hurting anymore. And I won't be afraid anymore. Maybe, in the next life...Or the one after that...I will be lucky. Maybe times will change, and people won't be so cruel anymore. I'm sorry, Sukuna. I didn't end up being who and what you thought I'd be. I will forever be a disappointment to everyone I meet." she wasn't sure if her words were directed to anyone at all, or if she just found the courage to speak for the first time in her life - To acknowledge the existence of feelings altogether - But Sukuna understood her. Except for the thrill of the kill and fleeting quenched lust, he didn't feel any relief. Just like her, anger and hatred, for the entirety of his life. How different and similar the two of them really were, he realised, as he went to hug her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. "You have never disappointed me, Kitsune. You cannot disappoint me. I understand what you're feeling. It's a cruel world, and we are much crueler to everyone around us, including ourselves. If you ever think you have it in your heart to accept me, I will be waiting. Forever, if needed. And if not, I will be awaiting in the next life. Or in the next one. I won't give up on you." and saying that, he planted a kiss on her temple before leaving her alone to watch the same silver moon they've been looking up at for so long. "...Thank you." she spoke to herself after who knows how long.

And she smiled.

Every day passing, she would look at the pink haired warrior, and every day, she'd want to throw herself in his arms, but every time, she'd start shaking, and she'd turn around and leave the place. This whole ordeal continued for well over three months, until one day, the palace was attacked with burning arrows, and the whole place was lit aflame.

In the mayhem in cause, the fox girl made sure to gather all the civilians in the huge estate and lead them to safety, and by the time she was done, she rushed to search for Sukuna, the person the enemies wanted to bring down, once and for all. However, by the time she found him, the whole place was ablaze, the once blooming garden was now turned into ashes, and the Demon God of War was heavily bleeding, slouched and leaning his back against a wall.

Opposite of him, many meters away, a menacing looking enemy who had spears in his hands was ready to throw them at him...And Sukuna merely smirked, defeated, and closed his eyes, awaiting for the impact of his ultimate death.

"Sukuna...Keep your eyes closed." Kitsune's low, shaking voice called out to him, but instead of doing as he was told, his eyes snapped open, only to widen in terror seeing the girl he grew to love, impaled by numerous spears, acting as a shield for him. "K...Kitsu...Ne...?!" he managed to usher after getting over his shock. "I told you...To keep you eyes closed...Idiot." she shook her head as she curled her fingers on the wall, taking a few deep breaths, despite her legs shaking. "Idiot. Idiot. You are such an idiot." "No...You...You were supposed to run away...I told you to run away...I told you...To...Live..." his voice was desperate, trembling, not believing what he was seeing before his very eyes. "Not without you...We were supposed to...Go...together...And be happy...And look at the moon...And stars...Together..." but as she said that, she heard the air getting split by yet another set of spears that go through her tails and torso, making her lose strength and fall over the man she was shielding. With her last strength, she punched back the spears out of her body and crawled on his lap, cradling his body, wrapping it up protectively with her tails, holding tightly onto him. "I never learnt how to fight...I never had anything to protect...Until I found you. I have no regrets dying, if you live. Close your eyes, Sukuna. I...I love you." and just before all strength left her body, she cupped his face and stole a weak kiss.

She was happy. She finally found her courage to act as she wished - With her heart, not with her fears. She was finally able to expel all the bad things possessing her. She died, and yet, she was finally smiling. She regretted nothing.

She was really happy.

"...Look there, Kitsune. Look at the moon. And the stars. And we are together. In this life. And the next one...And the one after...I will find you. And I will protect you. Don't be afraid anymore...Nothing will hurt you again. Until then...Sleep well, my Princess...Wait for me...Very soon."

---------

"Don't worry, Yuji! We will find all the victims of this place and rescue them! You'll see!" the cheerful nine-tailed girl wagged her fluff left and right as she dragged her best friend to the ominous place, as their other two team mates followed soon after, both having different reactions, as usual.

As her shikigami fox and Megumi's white wolf were assigned to make sure no cursed spirit would sneak up on them, they tried to make heads or tails of the distorted reality inside the place - They knew they may be dealing with a Special-Grade monster, but to have power of such magnitude seemed...Unreal...And unsettling.

"Guys, calm down. This is the Innate Domain...Cursed energy made this foul play...But I've never seen anything like...This. We have to move fast, and not split up, or we'll get picked one by one." Kitsune gritted her teeth, feeling the fur on her tails stand up. "Where's the door?!" Megumi yelled, turning around, only for everyone to gasp, realising the way they got through completely disappeared. "Th-The door's gone?!" Yuji blinked, incredulous at what he was witnessing. "How?! We just came in through here, didn't we?!" Nobara freaked out, only to make a short, brain dead dance with Yuji. "Calm down. The dog remembers the scent of the entrance." saying that, the two fawned over the two canines as they let them lead the way, only to find three mangled corpses, one of them having a name tag - It was the name of the child of the desperate woman outside of the place, pleading to the police to rescue him.

However, a fight erupted between the two boys who couldn't decide whether they should run away or rescue the corpses, as closure for the woman outside, at least, and while Nobara yelled at them, trying to make them stop...She...Disappeared?! Through a makeshift hole in the floor that wasn't there before.

"B-But...Megumi's demon dog and my fox should have been able to sense the curse...!" Kitsune then quickly turned around, only to gasp, noticing the bloody corpses of the said shikigami protruding from the walls. "NO! CYNDER!" she whimpered, hating to see her lovely companion in such a state. "ITADORI! KITSUNE! WE HAVE TO RUN! WE'LL LOOK FOR KUJISAKI AND -" but before he could finish speaking, Kitsune's whimper, that grew louder, along with the presence of the demon she was pointing at, staring straight at her...Made both boys stop in their tracks, wide eyed and shocked...And very much afraid.

The trio was sweating bullets, trying to move, trying to get the hell away from there - But Yuji moved first, taking out his knife, slashing at the Special-Grade....Only for his hand to go flying far away...From the impact.

"Megumi, run away! Go find Nobara, I'll stay here and create a diversion! Give us a signal when you're out of here! Yuji can get Sukuna and save us!" the fox girl yelled at her brunet friend desperately as she pushed him away, but a mouth on Yuji's cheek, speaking very derogatory, pointed out he doesn't give a fuck about Yuji's body, and that he won't die, even if his vessel does. "Nope~! Even if parts of me inside you die, I've still got 18 other fragments of my soul! Still, irritatingly enough, I don't have control of this body, so go away and switch, if you want! But once you do...I'll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can! Then, I'll go for that woman. She's a lively one. I'll have fuck with her. And then...I'll claim this cute fox girl that you care so much for!" Sukuna kept talking, and it was creating a state of panic in Yuji's heart. "Don't listen to him, Yuji! I know you won't let him take over you completely! You can't hurt us!" Kitsune yelled at her friend, trying to snap him out of the trance Sukuna put him in. "No, no, no, darling, you're wrong. If he's too focused on me, his friends WILL die~!" the demon kept laughing at his vessel, until the Special Grade unleashed a full blast of pure, cursed energy. "Yuji, look out!" she jumped at him, getting him out of the blast's range. "Stop listening to him, and take care of yourself! This isn't Jujutsu, this is pure cursed energy! We have to buy Megumi and Nobara enough time to get the hell out of here! Look at this jerk, he's having fun. I'm sure we can figure something out." the fox girl gritted her teeth in anger, but before either of them could try to attack or dodge - In the blink of an eye, really - She felt herself getting picked up and slammed on the wall before her by yet another blast of cursed energy - Followed by another, that flew her on the bridge in the next room, rendering her barely conscious. "KITSUNE! KITSUNEEEE!" she heard her pink haired friend's desperate wail as he tried to shake her awake. "...Sukuna...?" she asked, her shaking hands trying to rub away the tiredness from her eyes, as she looked up at him with gleaming, half-lidded eyes.

Before he could answer, shocked that she would call him by his demon's name, and even more, his own demon shocked, hearing her say something like that, she managed to cling onto the boy enough to get herself back on her feet, turning towards the attacker, her big, fluffy tails opening like a protective fan for the boy, as she created a blast of blue spirit fire to try to counter the cursed energy blast from the enemy. It made her growl from the pain, but her mind was blank - She had no regrets - No matter what life she was living, she will only get stronger and stronger, until she succeeds and protects the ones dear to her.

But not in this lifetime.

She wasn't strong enough yet. She was nowhere near her mentor, Satoru, in power. She had no way to compete with him, nor could she protect her friends when needed.

How pathethic.

It was her last thought before the cursed energy took over her, burning away some of her skin and creating even more damage after getting slammed and breaking yet another wall. With the last bit of consciousness she was able to hold onto, she saw her pink haired friend still alive and well - By some standards, at least - And she could merely smile and fight back the darkness threatening to take over.

But...Something happened, for the boy now seemed fearless - And he even taunted with the special-grade...And then he healed his own arm, before going to her, looking down at her, shaking his head. The markings on his face...This wasn't Yuji. This was...

"Idiot." a much darker, more masculine voice came from the body of the teenage vessel as he crouched down to the girl. "You never change, no matter what life you reincarnate into, do you? But that's the charm about you, stupid fox. You never really lose your memories of the past, do you?" he gently caressed her face, feeling his heart beating a bit faster as he noticed she was smiling and leaning into his touch. "You said you'll find me...So what is there to fear?" she mused weakly, before she got picked up bridal style, allowing her to cuddle into his chest, finally allowed to rest at ease. "Let's teach this weakling a lesson and get the hell out of here. The moon is up." Sukuna chuckled as he walked up to the demon, effortlessly punching in the head, slamming it into the bridge, only to smash his foot into its head, breaking the bridge altogether. As they fell, the monster grabbed his leg, but the fox-fire burn on his hand was enough to get his to shriek in pain and let go, as Sukuna jumped on one of the falling rubbles, taunting and laughing condescendingly, as he ripped apart the monster limb from limb before impaling it into a wall, as soon as they reached the watery ground. "Honestly, I'm jealous. I could never get to your power with jujutsu alone. Satoru said this thing is 80% born talent. How disheartening." she grumbled, feeling better already. "There's nothing cursed in your heart, sugar. Let the killing to me. I promised I'll protect you, I'm not going back on my word. I'm not going to see you die again." he threw her up a bit to get a better hold on her. "Hang onto me, foxy. Let's show this sucker how we do things." seeing his infamous smirk on his face, she threw her arms around his neck, holding on tightly, seeing as he did a hand seal, calling out his Malevolent Shrine...And they were back home, dressed the same as they were so long ago...A thousand years ago...And the monster got split in 5 slices, before Sukuna dug out another one of his soul-fingers, and he started grinning even laughing even darker, realising that Yuji couldn't switch bodies again, which made villain jump out of the facility, right on top of it. "I guess...No matter what life we live, the sky is going to be forever beautiful." Kitsune sighed as soon as he let her down, but she didn't let go of him. Not this time. Fears won't take over her life anymore. "And yours is even more eternal than the moon's or the stars." he cupped her face, taking in her beauty for the first time in over a thousand years. "It's been to long. I made you wait far too long. I hope you didn't miss me too much." one of his hands found its fingers raking through her hair, and she closed her eyes a bit, taking in the warm, loving feeling that completely took over her. "I'll forgive you. You did take your bloody time...But at least you're here now. And you're not going anywhere. I won't let you." her hands slid down to the neck of his blouse, pulling him to her level, which only made him smirk smugly. "Good. That was my intention." his charming, dark voice spoke, making her heart beating faster, and feeling the hair on the back of her neck and the fluff on her tails stand up from excitement. "Won't it be weird? Being Yuji's body...?" she asked shyly, as he only chuckled, pulling the same Malevolent Shrine trick, so they finally looked as they did when they first met. "Better, sweet cheeks?" he pulled her flushed to his body, as she got on her tippy toes to get closer to his face. "Spectacular."

As the fox girl couldn't stop touching his face, raking her fingers through his hair, feeling his body closer to hers as her whole body felt hotter than ever before - It was just a kiss - His lips so sweet against her own, his arms, so strong, holding her, feeling her, loving her.

It was only them, under the gentle light of the silver moon, guarding them, as the stars softly twinkled, embellishing gold into the dark sky - Just like this love light up the darkness in their hearts.

Her tails wrapped around him instinctively, as they pulled apart, and looked each other in the eyes for the first time since they've known each other. Her eyes were sparkling with happiness, her lips were curled into a kitten-like smile, and she was glowing - It made Sukuna's heart have a pleasant arrhythmia as he saw in front of his very eyes a sight that he's been dreaming about for over a millennium - The woman that captured his heart - Happy, in his own arms, safe, and very kissable.

This feeling and image were worth waiting a thousand years.

[wlw-peachylsbn]

i think i need some fresh air (feeling under pressure) (narcissa malfoy x reader)

A/N: okay, so my only notes for this fic was "narcissa reads you poems while you suck her tiddy? mommy kink yay". so that's what you're going to get! thanks to @daffodilmoons for inspiring me with their post here!

we have some mommy kink (yes, i am predictable go away), a bit of tit sucking, and fluff.

You sigh, tossing the covers off as you sit up, rubbing your eyes. The clock hanging on the wall reads 2:34 a.m. Great.

You turn to look at Narcissa, a smile instantly coming to your face. She’s sound asleep, of course, but she looks like some sort of angel, her blonde hair tumbling in waves, a peaceful expression on her face. You quietly take her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips, before stealing her robe and padding to the living room. You’ve never been more grateful that her manor is so large. You can just wander around with little chance of waking up.

Of course, you find your way to the library. Multiple bookshelves tower over you, and the soft carpet muffles your footsteps as you take your favourite seat. It’s a plushy, cherry red chair by the window that sticks out from the elegant, silver decor. Narcissa ordered it for you after a playful argument (darling, I love the comfort factor, but it doesn’t match!), and you fell in love at first sight. Or first seat.

A table rests at the side of your chair, adorned with your favourite books and trinkets, and a glass of cold water (on top of a coaster, of course). You take a book of poetry—love poems—and idly flip through the pages before tossing it back onto the table. Usually, you can lose yourself in poetry, but tonight, you just feel restless.

You grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around your shoulders as you stand up, looking out the window. It’s a bit of a chilly evening, but it’s quiet. There are no more of those damned peacocks, just some birds calling and the rustle of the wind. The moon is shining brightly, too.

You sigh, tightening your hold on the blanket that smells like Narcissa. You’ve been having trouble sleeping for the past few days, with nightmares waking you up or simple insomnia. It seems like tonight is the latter.

You sigh again. Life just sucks sometimes! No way around it. School has been an absolute bitch lately. With finals coming up, and multiple projects and essays due, your stress levels are extremely high. Every day makes you come closer to your deadlines. You don’t want your grades to slip, but you’ve spent every waking moment hunched over your desk, your quill scribbling. You haven’t even had time for dates with Narcissa, even.

You slump against the window. The sword of Damocles hangs over your head, and you’re keenly aware of every slipping inch. You know you shouldn’t overthink, but still, your mind falls down a negative rabbit hole with no rope to hold onto.

Dark whispers infiltrate your mind, and the demons in the shadows tip-toe forward, ready to grab you in their claws. You can’t even muster up any courage to fight back; you just allow them to control.

Until you feel a hand on your shoulder. You know who it is. Your love, Narcissa, of course. You would know her blind or deaf, by the warmth of her hand and the softness of her footsteps.

When you turn to face her, the monsters fade away. Her hair is like her halo, and the way she’s smiling at you can only be described as angelic. She’ll protect you; she always does.

“Cissa,” you breathe.

“Darling. What on Earth are you doing up so late?”

“I thought it was early?”

“Early or late, there’s no reason for you to be up at this hour.” She tsks, and although it’s meant to reprimand you, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. She’s worried about you; she cares about you.

“I know. I just couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Why ever not?”

“You looked too beautiful to disturb.”

“Oh, hush.” Narcissa rolls her eyes, but you still spot the pleased smile she tries to hide. “I don’t want you to hide from me. Your troubles are my troubles. I can help you, do you understand?”

You glance away, squinting at the door over her shoulder. “I know, I know….”

“Good. You’re not alone, not anymore.” She takes a seat in your favourite chair and tugs your waist, making you tumble into her lap.

A laugh escapes you as you shift to get more comfortable. “Cissa! What was that for?”

“Because I wanted you close,” she replies simply. “Now, what’s been keeping you up at night, darling? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. You’ve been eating less and less and working more and more.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you.”

“I know you don’t. I never said you were. But I am rather worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine. Please don’t worry anymore.” The lie slips out without your consent, and judging by her raised eyebrow, Narcissa doesn’t believe you one bit.

“Don’t you remember what I just said?”

“Yes, we’re a team, my troubles are yours, blah blah.” You wiggle closer, moving her silk robe to the side so you can nuzzle into the soft skin revealed.

“ ‘Blah blah?’ And is that my robe?” She tsks again. “It seems you’ve developed a bit of an attitude, little one.”

“Me? I don’t have an attitude!” You ignore how her nickname makes you shiver, instead pressing a kiss to her neck again. “I don’t, Cissa.”

“Well, if you’re a good girl, then you’ll tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh loudly but rest against her chest, closing your eyes. You’re tired. You’re always so tired. But you push through your exhaustion and say, “I’m just really stressed because of school. I was having a good start to the semester, but now, I’m feeling pretty burnt out. I don’t want to disappoint …”

“Disappoint?” she prompts. “Finish your thought, sweetheart.”

“Disappoint my family. Disappoint me.” You swallow. “Disappoint you.”

“Oh, honey.” The kindness in her tone makes you grip her robe in your fists, trying to stop yourself from crying. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. Everything is going to be alright. Look at me. Look at me, please.”

You don’t want to, but she grabs your chin gently, tugging so you’re looking into each other’s eyes. You can’t imagine how you look, hair mussed up, dark eye bags, and a slowly escaping tear. But Narcissa looks at you tenderly as ever, reaching up to wipe your tear away. “You won’t disappoint me.”

“But—”

“Hush. You could never disappoint me. Never. Especially over a grade. I just want you to try your best. That’s all.”

“Everyone says that but—what if my best is not enough? I’ll be a failure, Mommy.” To your utter humiliation, the nickname you associate with comfort and safety slips out. You bury your head in the crook of her neck again, this time intending to never leave.

“Sometimes, the things we love and work hard for, don’t work out. That has nothing to do with our failures or triumphs, simply that the time wasn’t quite right.” Her hand comes up to rub your back in long, smooth strokes, thankfully not commenting on your Freudian slip. “Your grades have nothing to do with you as a person. They are a separate entity, completely. The only things that define us are the things we allow, understand?”

You nod shakily. “ ‘m still really worried.”

“I know, my love. I’m not expecting that fear to go away in five minutes. But if you allow me to stay by your side, I swear I will always be your support when you fall. Always.”

“Always,” you whisper. A seed of hope worms its way to your chest. With Narcissa by your side, how can you do anything but fight?

“But we can plan tomorrow, darling. Our goal for tonight is to get some sleep.”

You nod, already half-asleep on her chest. The exhaustion you’ve been pushing away slams into you like a ton of bricks, and you yawn. “M’kay.”

“Shall I read you some poems? I know you love them.”

“If you don’t mind, Mommy.”

“Of course I don’t, darling girl.” Her hair tickles your cheek as she leans forward to grab the book you were reading earlier. “Would you like to hear Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning?”

“Mhm.”

“ ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.’ ”

You know the next line by heart. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. It’s quite close to how you feel about Narcissa, but not entirely. There are no words for how you feel for her. Sometimes the truest feelings are the hardest to put into words because there simply are no words. But it’s close. And you think she knows.

Narcissa’s voice is so lovely. Husky from sleep and soft and melodic. She has a perfect reading voice. She’s perfect.

You shift, a little whine leaving your mouth. You’re on the verge of falling asleep, but you’re missing one key thing.

“Oh, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Tired?”

You nod, snuggling closer to her.

“That’s alright, dear heart. Just rest now.”

“Mommy,” you whine again. You don’t want to say it, so you grasp her robe and tug, exposing her breast. “Please?”

“Oh, I see now, darling. You just want Mommy’s help to fall asleep, don’t you, lovely?” Narcissa coos, pulling her robe more to the side. “I know, baby, I know. Come here.”

Finally. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You eagerly latch your mouth on her nipple, closing your eyes and sucking.

She laughs quietly, running her hand through your hair, playing with the ends. “Slow down, darling. Just relax now. Mommy’s got you.”

You nod, eyes half-lidded. The bud in your mouth hardens with every suck or lick, and it is arousing, to an extent, but it’s mostly just … comforting. There’s something you can focus all your attention on, something that’s anchoring you. You keep sucking, listening to Narcissa read, and finally allow yourself to fall asleep.

[emjiroki]

Izuku drabble

Sero/Shoto/Izuku x Reader. 18+ ONLY

Warnings: polyamory (kind of more like friends with benefits but still) Drug use

I might expand on it later in an actual fic. First time High Izuku is just such a good flavor to me. If this makes you uncomfortable don’t read! I’ve done my part labeling what I can

 All characters are aged up to be 18 or over. Hope everyone enjoys 💕

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Getting Izuku high for the first time in Sero’s dorm graduation night of your senior year. All the green haired boy can do in his elevated state is mumble about how pretty you are, how his body is tingling and all he can think about is kissing you. Feeling your lips against his, feeling them against his sensitive skin.Wants to know how soft you are under his fingertips and wanting to melt into your warmth. 

“You’re so pretty” Izuku muttered,emerald eyes glazed over and blinking up at you from where he was laying against your thighs, his full body stretched out as you sat on the floor leaning against the bed. You held the still barely lit blunt to his lips, giggling as Shoto struggled to take a drink from his water bottle past his harsh coughing behind you. Izuku’s cheeks were flushed as smoke blew from his mouth, realisation of what he had been saying out loud hitting him like a brick as he watched the haze swirl from his outward breath. “Sorry, shouldn’t be saying things like that”.

“Why not?” You asked,resting your head back against the bed only to feel Shoto’s legs criss crossed behind you. Shoto pulled your head back against his legs, plucking the rest of the blunt from your fingers to take the last hint before smashing the cherry end into the ashtray. You vaguely heard Izuku lose the air he was going to use to reply as Shoto shotgunned the smoke into your mouth, his tongue curling with yours for a moment with a soft hum as you inhaled before pulling back. You looked down expectantly at Izuku with a flush to your cheeks, a shiver running through you as Shoto ran his cold hand against your collarbone and up your throat. 

“I- I thought you and...” He looked between you and Sero, who was seated on his desk chaired in front of you, preparing to roll another blunt. Sero shrugged and laughed.

“So are you and Shoto..” 

“We’ve never really been together, not exclusively anyway. I mean, that’s my girl but it’s just one of those things” The dark haired boy said, concentrating on rolling the paper between his fingers. Izuku took a moment to process what was said, brain working slower through the haze.

“No,” Shoto said, cutting him off. “We’ve been friends for a long time”. Izuku seemed confused, stumbling for a minute until you sighed and grabbed his face between your hands, leaning down and pulling him up to meet your lips. You could feel fresh heat rising to his cheeks as he groaned against your lips, scarred hands going around your back to try and pull you down before you pulled away, a line of spit still connecting your lips. You felt Shoto’s hands sliding down the front of your shirt, warm and cold fingers dipping into your bra to tug at your nipples. 

“You always get so horny when you smoke Sho,” You said with a soft giggle of appreciation. Izuku watched with dazed eyes as Shoto sucked a mark up on your skin, every breathy moan drawn from you causing his cock to jump. 

“I- I still don’t..” He trailed off, breathing becoming heavier with every passing second, the need to touch himself growing greater.

“There’s nothing to get man” Sero said with a grin, offering the freshly rolled blunt to him, “What kind of a man would I be if I kept such a sweet little treat all to myself?”

[axwalker]

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone​ to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my  FC. 

Words: 4,110 

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.  

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!! 

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?” 

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong. 

 “Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”  

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent. 

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?” 

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.” 

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up. 

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony. 

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence. 

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done. 

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.” 

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long. 

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me. 

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality. 

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.” 

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was. 

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.  

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right. 

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me. 

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.” 

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.” 

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion. 

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.” 

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—” 

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

 I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me. 

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City. 

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.” 

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…” 

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

 I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along. 

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper. 

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

 Drake

 What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me. 

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.” 

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.” 

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.” 

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

 “I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.” 

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly. 

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand. 

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.” 

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.” 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside. 

“What can I do?” I ask. 

“How long do we have?” 

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead. 

 “Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?” 

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway. 

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine. 

“I can’t just leave, can I?” 

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?” 

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

 “I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?” 

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.” 

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.” 

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything. 

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.” You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he’s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

[13uswntimagines]

Cliche (Tobin x Reader)

Request: Marriage Proposal 

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​

“I’m just saying, I opened my inbox. SOMEONE should have messaged me,” Tobin said, tugging on her hair frustratedly. You watched in amusement, loving the way the sunlight caught her hair, as you exited the movie theater. She was so focused on her tirade that she didn’t even look down as she stumbled over an uneven brick in the patio, just continued walking. “It’s been open for days and I reblogged several of those ‘send me a number and I’ll answer a question’ posts!”

“Babe, you run an anonymous fandom blog for a sci-fi television show that stopped running 15 years ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“19 years, ago,” Tobin corrected, “and it has a pretty strong fanbase! That fanart I made got at least 100 likes.”

“You’re just lucky they didn’t match the brush strokes or something and figure out it was you. Like they did with your other fake Tumblr. They’re like crazy detectives,” You said side eyeing your girlfriend. 

“I mean, I was making fanart of us on that one, it was pretty obvious.” 

“I love it when you paint me, but It’s really creepy that you put it on the internet,” You huffed, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Oh come on, I only posted the ones I made from press photos. You have a problem with the high definition, you talk to Alyssa’s girlfriend. She’s the photographer.”

“As long as you keep your drawings just for us, yeah?” You asked. Tobin had quite the eye, and she often found her greatest inspiration when you were relaxed. When you let your guard down. That mess the that many of her sketches of you were most certainly not suitable for public consumption. 

“Anything I draw from life instead of from a screen I keep.” Tobin winked at you and linked her arm through yours. “So, what did you think of the movie? Or was it too romantic for you, you action-thriller loving fiend?”

You shrugged. “I think it was a little too cliche. Like who the fuck brings a diamond ring to the airport and uses the intercom to propose to the girl who just dumped him for a job across the country? And then she chooses him?” Some plots just made zero sense. At least your action movies didn’t force a girl to choose a person who was completely wrong for her. 

“Oh come on, everyone loves cliches. I’ve seen the number of ‘there were only one bed’ fics you’ve read.” 

“Those aren’t forced heteronormative love stories that don’t actually care about the characters” You scoffed. 

“I have seen your archive of our own bookmarks, do we want to continue this conversation?” Tobin said sweetly, looking at the windows of the shops you passed, though you could see her suppressing a smile. She loved winning, be it argument or soccer game. 

“My archive history doesn’t count,” you grumbled, pouting. It wasn’t your fault you had been kinda into Bellatrix dating Hermione, especially when they were both the same age and you got to see some Hogwarts hijinks (it helped you weren’t a Ron fan either). 

“Sure, sure. Tell you what. You don’t like my new favorite Rom-Com? Show me you can do better,” Tobin gestured to the outdoor coffee shop along the route ahead. “Real life coffee shop AU. Here’s your chance to defy heteronormative love stories and cliches in the most romantic way possible.” 

“Just please don’t spill your drink on me ok? You already have my number,” You asked, raising your eyebrows. You happened to like this shirt and didn’t want it to get ruined. 

“That would be a cliche, wouldn’t it? I thought you wanted to avoid those?” Tobin said, raising her eyebrows to mirror yours as she pulled out a chair from one the tables, “you’re chair, mon chere?” 

“You can be quite the Gentlelandy miss Heath if I do say so myself,” You smirked, settling into the chair she had pulled out for you, kissing her cheek. 

“Why thank you,” Tobin said, tossing her hair back playfully before settling into her own seat. She grabbed the menu and opened it up. “So, what are you thinking? Asking the barista to make heart-shaped foam? Splitting a pasta dish and reenacting lady and the tramp?”

“I was thinking a cafe mocha with no whip, and I’m pretty sure this place doesn’t sell spaghetti,” you said, setting your chin on your hands, leaning on the table. 

“I think I’ll get a nice chai latte. And a muffin on the side.”

“Lame. How do you live in Portland and hate coffee?” 

“I thought you were supposed to say nice things. We already know each other, this can’t be enemies to lovers AU!”

“You’re still stuck on that?” You asked, sighing when Tobin raised her eyebrow at you. “Fine. How nice of you to choose a predictably unusual drink, and healthy snack for our date. Better?” 

Tobin snorted. “Undeniably.” 

“Good,” you watched her as she placed your orders with the waitress, thinking over what to do. She managed to place the order with her usual level-headedness, but she had the slightest smirk as she turned back to you. It was both loving and a challenge. 

“Babe,” you said, “I literally have no idea how to make this a living coffee shop AU. I can’t remember the last time I read one of those where neither of the characters was a barista.”

“First I think we talk about random things while sipping our drinks, wondering how we get each other so well,” Tobin started, setting your drink on the table in front of you. 

“So basically do what we normally do, but with added pressure?” 

“Yep! Wanna start? You can tell me about that new fanfic writer you’ve been reading? The one who writes the really cute Sonnett fics?”

“Oneanddone has a couple… it’s like they actually know about Snippets from her and Lindsey’s relationship,” You said, your lips ticking up. 

“That sounds fun and not at all creepy,” Tobin said, leaning forward. 

“The best one was where Lindsey flew all the way to Sweden to propose. It was cute, but entirely too cliche,” You winked at Tobin, so she knew you were continuing the joke. “She just showed up and proposed after Emily won the championship and Emily kissed her hard hat and all. Like they would give the fans that much PDA in one shot,” 

“Hmmm, better check for cameras then,” Tobin said, ruffling in her pocket. You heard the sound of candy wrappers, as usual following a movie with her. 

“What?”

Tobin got down from her chair and kneeled in front of you. “Y/M/N, I have liked you since the first day I met you. You were smart, beautiful, and had a hell of a right hook. Watching you on that punching bag was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen, up until the day you agreed to go out on a date with me. And the date after that, and the date after that. I fell in love with a woman who’s not afraid to have an opinion, who will ask to pet every dog she sees, and who loves listening to me rant about any subject over the moon. Now I know you don’t like cliches, so I didn’t get you a diamond,” She pulled her hand out of her pocket and held the ring pop up for you to see, “I got you a cherry. I also have a grape and orange in my purse. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” You breathed out, forgoing the ring pop in favor of kissing your girlfriend- fiancé. 

“Such a cliche,” she murmured against your lips, threading her fingers through your hair. 

“Shut up and kiss me,”

[the-str33tz]

Cellmates

Hermes Costello X  FemReader

NSFW\\ Lesbian

Reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns

Summary: you’re cellmates with Hermès and she makes you her prison bitch, nothing violent just sweet lovemaking. Slight warning: Hermes is a slight bit possessive. There’s a bit of Spanish thrown in this fic so here are the translations:

Hermosa- gorgeous

Bebe- baby

Cariña- sweetheart/honey

¡Si jefa!- yes boss

¡Oye! ¡Supe que te iba a gustar pero tienes que tranquilizarte!- hey! I knew you were going to like this but you need to calm down!

Belleza- beauty

Sighing while reading over the final paragraph in “Pride and Prejudice” you slump back on the cold steel chair that you’ve been sitting on for most of the day. The prison library had become your getaway since you weren’t allowed to stay in your cell all day. Resting the book on the table in front of you, you begin to sit up and stretch. How did it all come down to this? Having been caught in a petty crime to be thrown in prison for eighteen months, you had to learn quickly that you’re on your own. Prison etiquette had been smashed into you, forcing you to conform and act out accordingly. Hearing the clacking of keys and big steps from loafer shoes you readjust with your back straight and on high alert. Looking over you see one of many guards you see every day, looking out into the library and yelling, “Its time to huddle back! Go on and get back in your cells now!” You stand up looking right at her and say back “Yes ma’am I’ll be returning this book and immediately go back to my cell!”

She allows you to take the book back to the person at the counter before retreating back to your cell. Heading back down the hall of cells you see a guard standing with who you assume is a new inmate. A tall woman with black braids, green eyes, plump lips, and olive skin. She was a very beautiful woman but she also had a fierce look in her eyes causing you to get a bit anxious. Making sure not to show your anxiety you walk up to your cell and realize that they were standing right in front of it. The guard yells out your name, “Look alive! You have a new roomie, welcome her nicely!” Both of you get pushed with great force into your cell before you’re able to reply.

You make sure not to lose face and sternly say, “You already know my name, bottom bunk is mine.” She looks you over, keeping the same look from before. She slowly strides across your vision as she sits down on your bed while crossing her arms. You’re taken back by her obvious disrespect so you shove her off your bed. “Hey have you never been in prison before? Don’t you know not to sit on peoples bunks? I don’t even have your name!” You yell, making sure you assert yourself on your new cell mate. She raised her chin, clear eyes boring into you. She gave a half shrug before standing up. The way she peered over you made way to a clenching feeling in your chest. For a brief moment a wild thought raced through of holding her while both of you touch down each other’s- your thoughts are squashed as she snaps her fingers in between your eyes, bringing you back to earth. She steps forward provoking, “I don’t know how many times I have say this but my name is Hermes Costello and yes I’ve been to prison before.”

Hermes made her way back on your bed, relaxing her head and cocking it to the side as if to invite you to sit next to her. You slouch on your bed fully aware that she’s taken over the conversation and that she would be the one to order you around. The prison hierarchy is known to favor those that are able to gather the attention and respect from those around them. While you may not know why she’s in here in the first place, you already know that asking would not be in your favor.

Hermes pivoted her torso in your direction, lightly brushing her slender hand over your fingers. Leaning in closer to you she inquired, “So now that we know enough about each other, how do you feel about being with women?” A rut comes up your stomach as you realize what she’s asking of you. Mind racing with the same thoughts from earlier, you think of your options. You had always wanted a prison girlfriend, someone you can protect and be intimate with. Intimacy in such a place is rare to come by as it lengthens your sentence for sexual misconduct in a prison so getting a girlfriend was always going to be a toss up. You recognize Hermes’ strength and regard and know that she wouldn’t hurt you but you are unsure if she’d protect you the way you would for her. Knowing that she’s only asking as a formality rather than actually caring about how you truly feel, you lean in and peck her on the lips.

“It’s my preference.” You imply with a grin, pulling away and leaning on the palms of your hands. It has only been a second but you already miss the feeling of her lips. Despite her aggressive appearance, her lips were a delicate velvet that left you wanting more. She sports a smirk across her face, lips curling up and eyes glossed over with a squint. Her face tattoos pulling and stretching with her smile. She knows that she now has a grip on you. She closes herself back into you, teasing, “You’re my girl now, break up with whoever you’re with.”

“I don’t have any other girlfriends Hermes!” You laugh bitterly while rubbing your temples.

“Good, that makes it easier for us.”

Smirking, she crawls on the bed over to you. Moving one hand to rub your shoulder, she closes in on you and breathes next to your ear. “We’ll do things girlfriends do in the coming days. The guards will be watching me since I’ve been here before.” You catch a whiff of her and she smells like a forest covered in flowers. You feel like you’re being driven up the wall with how forward she is. She pulls away, catching a chunk of your hair in her hand. She begins playing with it, twisting it and running her fingers through it.

Looking up at you, her eyebrows are arched while she whispers, “There’s also some things I need to buy if we’ll be doing that.”

You suck in drily, eyes wide while watching her move to her bunk. You can feel your excitement well up in your underwear, clenching while feeling a slick emerge from within.

You lay in bed the rest of the night, still hot from the brief interaction from Hermes earlier.

For the next couple of days you only catch glances of Hermes with other inmates. Doing small trades where she brings out small rolls of cash from her jumpsuit. You don’t press her or interact with her too much as a relationship such as this is forbidden. What you didn’t realize was what she was plotting to do with you in due time.

It suddenly happened in the dead of the night while you were sleeping. A strong hand clasped over your mouth while the other shook you awake. Your eyes shoot wide open to the sight of a grinning Hermes. Dark braids pool around your face while you look dead in her green eyes. She moves her hand from your mouth and holds up a finger to her lips, signaling for you to stay quiet. She moves her face so that she’s right next to your ear, “Would you like to do things with me tonight hermosa?” You move your hand up to grip her yellow shirt, excitement welling up in your throat. Curling up your lips you decide to get bold. Moving your hand up, lightly tracing across Hermès’ chest feeling out her breasts. You nod gingerly, worried of getting caught. She moves up across your bunk, calmly kissing across your face. “Don’t worry bebe, I have the guards routine memorized, they won’t be around here for another while.”

Right when she starts settling in between your legs, you feel something hard brush against your thigh. You stiffen up, could she have tricked you and she’s getting ready to attack you? Seeing your uncertainty, Hermes moves your hand down to a rubbery tube like item. You slide your fingers across it a couple times before looking down and seeing a makeshift strap on. Immediately you smack your hand over your mouth trying to hold down the laughter that’s rising up your throat. “You don’t like it? I did so many trades to make this work. I also ruined one of my sports bras, please let me strap you down?” She playfully rubs the strap against your thigh causing you to smile. Leaning over to bump your forehead against hers you croon, “Let me get naked first and then we’ll see what you can do with your mouth, cariña.” She gives you a knowing look, “Let me find out that you’re learning these words from other females around here. You can only talk to me like this, got it?” You shimmy yourself out of your body suit retorting, “¡Si jefa!”

She reaches down and pinches one of your ass cheeks while you’re pulling off your underwear. “I’m about to eat your cherry out. Try not to make too much noise, alright?” She winks up at you, pulling your legs up over her shoulders. You lightly squeeze your thighs against the sides of her head, “You’re being way too confident Hermes...” you trail off at the feeling of a wet tongue running across your clit.

She moves her hands in between your thighs to spread you for better access. Light flicking of her tongue has you biting your lip. You look down at her, fierce eyes staring right back at you. She speeds up while keeping the same pressure, massaging her thumbs at the sides that she has pulled. Hermes let’s herself drool atop your clit, letting it pool together with your own wetness. She quickly dips down to gather up all the wetness, pressing her lips flush against your pussy. She sucks lightly while moving her tongue in circles around your clit. You can’t stop yourself from your quickened breathing, small noises slipping from your tightened throat.

You can feel your stomach clenching, wanting to feel more you roll your pelvis against her face. One of her hands moves down to stick two fingers in, massaging you while moving slowly. She moves her other hand to squeeze hard on your thigh, bringing a gasp out of you. Immediately Hermes pulls away, sitting up on her knees. She smacks down on your swollen clit making you wiggle your knees towards your body. “How about I put this in you and show you who you belong to?” Hermes removes her shirt and bra, exposing herself completely. You loop your hands behind your knees and pull them up next to your chest. You’re left fully exposed under Hermes’ intense gaze. She smacks the strap against your clit, slowly rolling it against the folds of your pussy.

At this point you’re still sensitive from when she was eating you out so you squirm at the cold sensation. She moves her thumb to circle around your clit causing you to look away, stiffening your mouth. Slowly the strap is being pushed inside you causing a gasp to come out, “Fuck Hermes that kinda hurts.” The pressure from the stiff pole like item causes you to anxiously clench around it, a resistance in you softly trying to push it out. She stops moving immediately but keeps her thumb flicking on your clit. She moves her other hand to caress the back of you thigh as she comforted, “It’s okay we can take our time, let me help you relax.” Her kind words and little massages cause you to seize your tight grip on the strap. You allow one of your hands to move down and place it on top of her hand. You look up at her as you moan, “Please keep going Hermes, it’s starting to feel good!”

Hermes’ excitement shows through her quickened flicks and her sudden thrust, pushing the whole strap in. A louder moan escapes you but Hermes moves a hand down over your mouth. “¡Oye! ¡Supe que te iba a gustar pero tienes que tranquilizarte!” You calm down allowing her to continue thrusting into you, hand still over your mouth. You kiss her hand letting her know that you’re okay. You can feel her getting deeper, the pleasure stretching far beyond just inside your pussy.

Hermes grabs hold of your legs and stretches them out farther. She readjusts her knees so her pelvis is higher and more aligned with you. The way she rolls her hips in you causing her breasts to bounce has you thrown. You move your hands up to grope at her chest, squeezing her dark nipples. She shudders under your touch as she continues rolling her hips into yours. She moves her hands next to your waist, holding her up as she begins to pound in you.

An exquisite feeling begins to well up in your stomach; getting more intense as she goes in deeper but settling down when she pulls out. “Oh Hermes that’s feels really good! I never want to stop having sex with you!” You groan, moving your hands up to caress the back of her neck. She moves down to kiss your nipples and lick across your neck. Her soft black braids tickle your hot skin, the smell of Shea butter invading your senses.

Her thrusts have become short and deep, hardly moving out. This rolls you into a leg shaking orgasm, mouth hung open with your eyes rolled back in your head. She continues moving, further stimulating you. Sitting up again, she flicks her fingers over your clit. Her other hand comes over you, sticking three fingers in your mouth. You try to keep eye contact with her as your orgasm is prolonged, waves of pleasure reaching your head. Becoming a mess under her, you drool over her fingers and the muscles in your thighs tense.

You can feel tears forming in your eyes as she continues thrusting in you. She begins slapping and pinching your clit, giving you an almost painful feeling. A feeling hard to concentrate on as you feel ultimate pleasure coming from within.

She continues stimulating you until your neck is covered in your own saliva and tears. An intense pulsating feeling from your pussy is all you can feel when she finally pulls out. You can feel the wet sheets underneath you from how wet you had become when she overstimulated you. Heaving as you breathe, you watch her remove the makeshift strap on.

She straddles you, pushing you down on your pillow, she leered at you, “Your not getting any rest tonight belleza, lay down so I can sit on your face.”

[shoutogepi]

You Want Me to Call You Baby Girl?

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10k oopsies

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : DD/BG kink, minimal booty spanking & temp play, man-handling ahaha

bio : Shouto accidentally discovers his girlfriend is much kinkier than he suspected… and he intends to test out his new knowledge as soon as possible.

author’s note : o BOY THIS IS A SPICY FIRST FIC. whew i promise im not usually this nasty actually who am i kidding yes i am :))) also side note, all characters are aged up to year 3 in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

also available on AO3 here~

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅈our duffel bag buzzes loudly, taking your attention away from the sparring match you and Ochaco were currently engaging in.

“One sec, Ochacho-chan,” you request hastily, putting your hands up in apology and bowing.

“Sure thing Y/N,” she smiles, “I need to take a break anyway!”

You squat next to your bag, hands fishing blindly through the compartment for your vibrating phone.

Shouto ♥︎ flashes across your screen, a photo of the handsome boy slurping soba lighting up the background.

“Shouto,” you pick up, huffing after your challenging training session.

“Y/N,” he replies, his suave voice instantly bringing a minute flush to your cheeks. “Where are you right now?”

“Ahhh I’m at the training center with Ochacho-chan,” you answer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “We were working on our hand to hand combat!”

“Hmm,” he purses his lips in frustration. “I left my Search and Rescue textbook in your room yesterday. Any chance I could come by and grab your key?”

Your foot absentmindedly plays with the strap of your duffel bag, wandering aimlessly as you clutch the cellphone to your ear. “My door should actually be unlocked,” you chime,” so no need to come all the way over here!”

Shouto frowns. “You leave your door unlocked?” he pauses, “Knowing we have some questionable… characters living in the same building?” His mind is immediately on Mineta and Kaminari, the two perverts of the class.

Your laugh smoothes over his distaste, instantly bringing a small smile to his lips.

“I know you forget your things in my room so you have an excuse to see me,” you say playfully, your bottom lip captured by your teeth as you bashfully rock on the balls of your feet.

A slight blush covers Shouto’s cheeks, which he is glad you’re not there to see. “Hmm, it seems I’ve been figured out. I guess I’ll stop doing that then,” he teases, prodding you for a reaction.

“N-No, that’s okay,” you rush out, adding a hesitant laugh. “I’ll… I would take any excuse to see you,” you murmur, voice growing quieter.

Shouto’s heart flutters, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Um, anyway, my door is unlocked so just go on in. I should probably get back to Ochaco now,” you trail off awkwardly.

“Can I buy you dinner tonight?” It slips out before Shouto can even think.

A beat passes, and Shouto licks his lips in anticipation.

“I would really like that, Shouto,” you chuckle into the phone. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Of course. See you tonight,” Shouto smiles, taking the phone away from his ear and pressing the red button on his screen. He stands in front of your door for a moment, gazing at your contact picture. God, you were so cute. How he had managed to score you, he had no clue.

He’d been in his room when he called you, but walked over to your floor and dorm room as the conversation ensued. Just as you had said, when his hand touches the door handle, it gives way and he steps into your room.

Closing the door behind him, he breathes in and closes his eyes, savoring the sweet and clean smell of you that lingered on your belongings. After a moment, he walks over to your desk, his textbook in sight, but buried underneath an open notebook with your messy notes scrawled across half the page. Your laptop rests to the left of the notebook, open and upright, but the screen is black and the charger light is green, indicating the battery is full.

Shouto’s fingers automatically reach for the cord, unplugging the charger as it was best to do so for your laptop’s battery in the long run.The screen automatically lights up, a black browser popping up and displaying a video.Shouto tries to avert his eyes before he could read the screen, but he had already read the video title the instant it popped up.His face instantly bursts into a cherry-red blush, and he chokes as his throat suddenly dries, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth in shock.

You Want Me to Call You Baby Girl? Beg for Daddy, Maybe I’ll Be Nice.

Shouto’s wide eyes scan the title again, and then a third, and a fourth time to make sure he had read it correctly. You had left your door unlocked, your laptop open, and a porn website out on display?

Had you… meant for him to see this?

He shakes his head in disbelief. There was no way that his innocent and sweet girlfriend had planned this out… which meant that you would probably be mortified if you knew he had found this.

Shouto stands frozen at your desk, unsure of what to do. The two of you were no strangers to sex. You had been dating for almost seven months now, and you had been intimate together a handful of times.

But never like this… Daddy? Baby girl? Begging?

Shouto’s mind suddenly wanders somewhere very indecent, and he gulps as he shakes his head. Sure, everybody has fantasies and turn-ons… this wasn’t that far-fetched.

But that’s why he is so torn. He could leave now and pretend he had never seen this… or he could sit down and watch this video, and do to you whatever this video entailed.

Unable to make up his mind, he hastily sits in your desk chair, swiveling the back around and scooting in to sit properly in front of the laptop. This was dangerous territory.

Well… watching the video couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?

Biting his lip, his long fingers reach toward the trackpad. His fingertips hover over the key hesitantly, before he shoots up abruptly from the chair and delves his fingers in his two-tone hair.

Pacing now, he lunges across the room and bolts the door. Walking in a circle, his arms cross on top of his broad chest. Why was he second guessing himself? He had been so sure just a second ago… That’s right, he had made up his mind!

Shouto rushes over to the chair again, eagerly hopping into it. Before he could question himself again, he grabs the headphones plugged into your computer and presses play, his heart thumping against his rib cage. His knee bouncing, palms clammy, the video begins to play.

The screen remains black, but shuffling is heard through the headphones. Suddenly, a sultry male voice speaks.

“Hmmm, you’re back for more so soon, kitten?”

A fresh blush immediately bloomed on his cheeks, his adam’s apple bobbing. Hands quivering, he remains still, questioning if he should be here or not. Before he can think further, the voice starts again.

“You know it’s very naughty of you to beg for me like this, baby.” A sweaty hand lands on Shouto’s knee, his lips wavering uneasily as his fingers grab on, knuckles turning white. The voice chuckles darkly, purring almost. “What’s that, you need me to touch you? Hmm, like this? Do you like when I touch your tits like this baby girl? You’re such a naughty little thing, not wearing a bra like this. Mmm, I can’t help but touch your aching body, princess.”

Shouto sits back roughly, cheeks still bright red as he processes the man’s words. Is this… what turned you on? Could this be… what you touched yourself to? Did you… did you close your eyes and think of him when you did? His cock jumps in response, a tent rising in his pants. Fuck, this was hot.

“Did you miss me baby girl? Did you touch yourself while Daddy was gone? You know that’s against the rules.” Shouto’s mouth feels as dry as a desert, a shaky breath tumbling out of his parted lips. Holy shit, the image of you touching yourself to this makes him sweat. Would you be willing to call him that? Daddy?

“Oh baby, look at you. What a mess you’re making on our sheets… You’re dripping wet, mmmm, look at your slick, tight, little pussy.” Shouto’s eyelids fall as he imagines your hot, sweet cunt, remembering the taste of you and the way you whimper as his tongue disappears into your heat. His hand trembles, hesitantly jerking toward the tent in his pants.

“Fucking shit,” he groans, hunching over the desk as his hand rests gently on his bulge, fingertips brushing back and forth gently.

Is this how you wanted him to talk to you? You wanted him to talk dirty to you and call you these sweet names?

The voice purrs lowly, a sigh escaping the man. “You want my fingers in you baby girl? You want me to fuck you with my fingers huh? Tell me what you want, baby. Be a good girl and beg for me.”

Shouto gasps as his body shudders. Jesus, this was some kinky stuff. But… he liked it. Very much, apparently, according to his prominent erection.

“That’s very rude of you, baby girl, to address me incorrectly.”

A smirk crosses his lips as he could definitely imagine you acting like a little brat underneath him, just to irk him. You loved to push his buttons all the time, even when you weren’t fucking.

“What was that kitten? I didn’t hear you. What’s my name again?”

His eyes closed, a quiet moan falling from his lips. He could just picture you in front of him, gazing up at him with those wide and innocent eyes… calling him Daddy. Imagining that word rolling off your sweet tongue jerks him out of the chair, pausing the video.

A harsh sigh heaves from his chest, hands splayed on the desk as he pants, hunched over your laptop. Watching this video, invading your privacy… it made him feel grimy, but the feeling in his pants was just as intense.

He stands still for a moment, processing all of this, before he rewinds the video back to the beginning and plugs your laptop charger back in. After making the computer go back to sleep, he pushes himself off the desk, making sure to grab the textbook he came for. With a last glance at your laptop, he exits your room, book strategically placed on his abdomen, hurriedly returning to his room to conduct further research and take care of his… issue at hand.

~~~

You blow away the stray hair tickling your nose, diligently holding the iron away from your face. The fresh curl falls as you release the clasp, and you smear away a mascara smudge under your eyebrow, leaning into the mirror. Blinking at your reflection, you let out a shaky breath.

You unplug the curling iron, your other hand running through the curls to smoothen the neat spirals. Fixing your top, you turn away from the vanity, standing up.

Swinging your small purse off the back of the chair, you grab your jacket and shrug it on.

A knock on your door grabs your attention, and an eager smile immediately blossoms on your lips. You quickly drag your perfume rollerball across your wrists and dab it along your neck, tucking the vial into your purse and opening the door.

Your boyfriend stands in the doorway, thumb tucked in the pocket of his jeans, the other hand fixing his hair. The sherpa-lined denim jacket laid perfectly against his broad shoulders, gray t-shirt snug against his muscular chest, finishing off with black jeans tucked into his dark brown chelsea boots. His hand falls from his hair to snake around your waist, gathering you to his chest. You gladly let him scoop you up, arms coming to wrap around his neck.

“Shouto,” you mumble into his neck, breathing in his strong and fresh cologne. “You look so handsome tonight.”

He pulls back his head so your eyes lock. Something unrecognized stirs within the depths of his heterochromatic gaze. His other hand floats underneath your face, thumb and forefinger catching your chin to lock you into his stare. You’re suddenly very aware of the hand that presses into your lower back, his long fingers trailing across your jacket slightly.

He responds, voice whisper-soft. “And you look absolutely delectable, baby girl.”

He allows one second to savor your stunned expression as you process the new pet name that he had addressed you by before he guides your lips to his, capturing your mouth tenderly.

Your whimper lodges from your throat as Shouto’s lips press against yours, your hand pressing the nape of his neck towards you to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from your chin, face pulling away from yours. His half-lidded eyes admire your flushed cheeks, and the desperate look that lurks below the surface of your expression, a smirk landing on his lips. He gently pries your hands away from his neck, kissing your cheek swiftly as he laces his fingers with yours.

“Hungry?”

Oh, so he was just going to skate on by it, like it was no big deal. You clear your throat tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and nodding quickly. “S-starving.”

“Let’s go then, baby girl, the ramen place closes in an hour,” he says nonchalantly, eyes regarding you as he watches blush blossom across your cheeks. This could be fun.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, and he exhales softly through his nose at the action, concealing a groan. He tugs on your hand, steering you toward the elevators and toward your awaiting meal.

~~~

“Y/N?”

Flustered, you look up at your boyfriend, who is watching you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Sorry, what?” You ask, embarrassed to have been caught in your own thoughts.

A warm smile splits Shouto’s lips, a short laugh escaping. His eyes catch yours, genuine zeal clearly identifiable. “Do you want to watch a movie? I can look up what’s in theaters now. Or maybe we could get bingsu? My treat, baby girl. I know you love the mango one, from that place on the corner.”

“S-Shouto,” you murmur, eyes falling to rest on the cleared table in front of you. Your fingers pick at the corner of the discarded napkin nervously.

Shouto reaches out, his hand folding around yours, effectively making you look at him. “What is it baby girl? You wanna go home?”

Your legs clench together underneath the table, the building heat between your legs burning insatiably. He’d been calling you “baby girl” all night and you just couldn’t stand it anymore. You swallow, eyes averting from his to look at the hem of his t-shirt. “Y-Yes please, I don’t feel very well,” you answer honestly. You definitely wanted to get back to the dorms.

Shouto nods earnestly, getting up out of his seat and helping you out of your own. His left hand lands on your back, slipping underneath your jacket and making the warmth of his quirk known through your thin shirt. “No problem, Y/N, let's get you home.”

He calls an Uber back to the dorms even though you had originally walked, the restaurant being about a 25 minute stroll from the UA campus. He opens the car door for you and slides in after you, hands reaching out to click your seatbelt into place before securing his own. You blush again, murmuring a “thank you”, and grab his hand eagerly. Shouto smiles smally in return, his other palm smoothing over your joined hands.

As you step through the doors to the dorms, a burst of nerves blooms deep in your stomach. Shouto’s hot hand was again on your back, gently guiding you to your door.

Your head feeling light, your hand searches frantically for your keys in the depths of your purse. You had locked your room this time thanks to Shouto’s earlier admonishment.

Shouto’s lips press gently to your temple, making you jump in surprise. The corners of his mouth twitch upward at your reaction. ”Are you okay baby girl?” he breathes into your ear.

Your pussy quivers at his voice so close, his fingers spreading downward from your waist. His breath fans over your neck as your shaky fingers finally reach your keys. Your wrist trembles as you push the key into the door, and Shouto reaches over to turn the handle, pushing it open and slightly nudging you into the dark room.

The door shut behind you and the click of the lock is heard audibly in the silent room. A crack in your blinds casts a thick beam of moonlight onto the floor, illuminating your otherwise pitch black room.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as Shouto’s hands find your figure again, fingertips floating across your waist. His biceps caging you into his embrace, he presses a short kiss to your throat. “You don’t feel so good, baby girl?” His lips part and he places them against the column of your neck again, this time leaving behind a slick patch from his eager tongue.

You shake your head weakly, knowing your voice would come out broken and wavering. You feel his hands traveling around your waist, his hips brushing against your ass just barely.

“Anything I can do to help you, baby girl?” His voice is so low, and it drips with something almost ominous, swallowing up your senses. His teeth ghost over your throat, triggering a soft gasp from you. His mouth breaks into a sinister smile at your reaction.

“Y-Yes, I need your hands… on me,” you whimper, hand reaching up to anchor yourself on his bicep.

Shouto exhales against your skin, cock jerking in his jeans at your reply. His hands move slowly from your waist down your hips, fingers curling around your inner thighs, sliding up past the hem of your skirt. “Where do you want my hands, baby girl?”

Your legs tremble, and you curve your back into his chest, ass pushing against his crotch. A fresh blush litters your cheeks at the recognition of his clothed erection.

“You gotta tell me what you want, baby girl,” he murmurs huskily into your ear, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. They were so painfully close to your panties, a ragged breath escapes you.

Your mouth parts to reply but your words fail you, your body only being able to focus on breathing as steadily as possible. Oh god, you were so turned on right now.

His fingers brush against the edge of your panties, and your legs clamp together desperately. “Here? You want my hands on you right here? Use your words, kitten.”

A reticent moan leaves you, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “P-please, Shou…”

An ardent grin raises the corners of his mouth, and for the first time tonight his breath shakes as he replies. “That’s very rude of you, baby girl, to address me incorrectly.”

Your body freezes, anxiety enveloping you in an icy grip. You absolutely knew what he meant, without a shed of a doubt. Eyes wide, you rip out of his grasp, turning to look at him.

Your eyes meet and a hesitant look penetrates his intense gaze.

“You—,” you choke out, eyes darting to the open laptop on your desk. Shouto’s eyes follow yours, and a guilty expression instantly graces his handsome face. His hands out in front of him, blush reddening his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Shouto whispers, “Please let me explain. I didn’t mean to see it, but I accidentally woke up your laptop when I was grabbing my textbook and I tried not to see it but…”

You feel absolutely mortified, eyes wide and tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You cannot believe you were so stupid to have left your laptop open and on the Incognito browser! “Oh my god,” you sniffle, pure shame encompassing you.

Shouto closes the distance between you two, arms bringing your figure into his embrace. “Y/N, I'm so sorry. Please don’t be embarrassed, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.” One hand runs through your hair repeatedly, while the other presses you tightly into his chest.

You stay silent, words once again failing you. What if he was just doing this because you thought it was hot? What if he was making himself do this, even if he thought it was freaky? You bite your lip to stop it from trembling, hugging him back.

After a moment he draws your head back so your eyes lock, and that dubious emotion once again is visible deep in his two-toned stare. “I know I shouldn’t have pressed play,” he admits, tongue slipping out to run across his lips swiftly. His eyes flick to your own lips momentarily before looking deep into your eyes once again. “But the thought of you being into this,” he groans, eyelids dropping half way and fingers clutching your hair intensely,” The thought of you touching yourself to that… Just the possibility of you imagining it was me saying those nasty things to you… God, I couldn’t help myself, baby girl. You have got me so damn infatuated with you.”

His sultry eyes bore into your wide ones, melting away all your fear and hesitance. You want to say something, anything, but your lips are just paralyzed in shock. He was into this? Your cool and composed boyfriend wanted the same dirty things you did? Your pussy throbs between your legs, desire intensifying like he had poured gasoline onto the fire.

“You can say no, baby girl. Don’t be afraid to, there will be no consequences and no hard feelings on my part. I know this is a lot to ask of you,” he breathes, his magnetic gaze buttering you up. His hand stretches around your head, middle finger pushing against your jaw and thumb brushing your cheek. “But if you want to continue, I would happily oblige. All you have to do is—“

Your hands move before you can think, lacing around the back of his neck and gathering his lips to yours. The kiss is passionate but short, catching him by surprise. The fact that he is just as considerate as ever, even in this mortifying yet exhilarating situation… it turns you on even more. This man is all yours, you are all his, and you damn straight intend to show him.

You pull back, admiring the startled expression on his features. A soft, wanton moan escapes you, your eyes falling to his lips before sneaking back up to his eyes, catching his dazed stare through your thick eyelashes. “Please continue, Daddy.”

Shouto’s dick strains against his briefs, angrily awakened by your enthusiasm. A strangled noise releases from his throat, his fingers automatically gripping you harder. His eyes wide in astonishment, he blinks at you once, twice, before his entire demeanor reverts back to his predatory behavior from earlier.

“Fuck,” he groans, smashing your lips against his. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue immediately pushing past your lips and thrusting into your mouth. Tongue rolling over yours, his hands roughly touch your aching body. His hands fumble to tear away your jacket, your purse making a loud noise as the metal chain on the strap hits the ground.

His right hand cups your breast, squeezing diligently as his thumb rolls over the center of your bra, right over your nipple. His other hand grabs your ass cheek, gathering you closer to his body as his tongue dances with yours.

Your hands feverishly run along his body. Fist full of his hair, your other hand desperately running along his muscular shoulder, thumb dipping down to press into his collarbone.

Your mouths pull away, a string of saliva connecting your restless tongues as you both gasp for air. Your gaze meets his as you both try to catch your breath, desire clear as day in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles on ragged breath, the fingers from the hand on your ass straining toward your panties. They successfully push them aside, the tips of his middle and ring fingers connecting with your slick hole.

Your body shakes uncontrollably at his caress, a pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you throw your head back.

Shouto pushes your body backwards, scooping you up and throwing you onto the bed. Your back hits the comforter and he’s instantly on top of you, fingers sliding back and forth easily along your slit.

“You’re wet as fuck baby girl,” he accuses, fingertips prodding your hole just barely enough to get a reaction from you. “Have you been this wet all night? Pressing your legs together underneath the dinner table and in the Uber? Hmmm, you like when I call you baby girl, don’t you?”

Your leg curls around his, trembling in anticipation. “Yes, Daddy, I love it so much,” your voice is hoarse from being breathless, and Shouto’s cock swells at your tone.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N,” he whispers into your neck, pausing to place more hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thumping pulse. “I think you deserve a reward for being so cooperative, baby girl.” His fingers push into your tender core, neatly trimmed fingernails rubbing along the pulsating, velvety walls.

You’re positively quaking underneath him, loud and unabashed moans meeting his quiet pants. His fingers feel so good inside of you, the way he curls them upward slightly to massage that special spot he always manages to find. “Oh, Daddy,” you whine, legs opening wider to give him more access.

“God, look at you,” he taunts, voracious eyes gauging your desperate body thrashing under his. “You’re such a nasty girl, you love when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

It’s impossible to breathe, so you just nod pathetically, your nails cutting little crescent indents into the skin on the bicep he’s propping himself up with. The nod seems like just enough to satisfy him as he smirks, tongue forcing itself into your mouth again and dominating yours.

His fingers slide deeper inside of you with ease, and he curves his fingers rigidly, assaulting your pussy without mercy. “Christ, look at you. You’re making such a mess baby girl.”

Your hand grips the duvet, fingers frantically clenching the material. Your spine arches off the mattress, breasts pressing up against his chest. “Please, Daddy, I need more! Please!” you beg, your mind hazed with lust.

Shouto sighs ruggedly, his hair tickling the side of your face as his body rocks gently to the force of his fingers in your tight cunt. He leaves a short kiss on your cheek before his teeth pinch the tip of your ear, his hot breath hitting your cartilage. “I love when you beg for me, baby girl. How can I resist when you ask so kindly?”

His mouth leaves your ear, body slithering south so his face is in front of your sleek, hot pussy. His fingers leave your core, and the noise of discontent that leaves you is cut short immediately as his tongue thrusts into you. His tongue pushes in and out of you quickly, the fingers that were in you a moment ago rubbing your clit with fervor.

Your hand slaps over your mouth as you let out a stifled cry, eyes scrunching closed at the feeling Shouto was giving you. No matter how good he was making you feel, you would die of embarrassment if your classmates heard you in such a state.

“Baby girl,” Shouto pants as his mouth comes away from your cunt, his chin shining with your slick. His fingers plunge back into you, making it hard for you to look at him straight. “Do you like it when I eat you out? You like my tongue on your pussy, baby girl?” he asks, eyes glittering mischievously. His tongue wraps around your clit, pulling it into his mouth and ravishing the nerve in circles.

Your back flies off the bed once again, a hand clutching his hair for dear life. You take your hand off your mouth for a moment to reply, but your voice dies in your throat as his fingers ram into you harshly. A muffled squeal escapes you, and a dark chuckle replies from the man between your legs.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you warn, your voice unsteady. The pressure building between your legs becoming undeniable, your thighs shake slightly around Shouto’s head.

Shouto’s tongue leaves your clit, lips kissing the bundle of nerves gently. “You wanna cum, baby girl? So soon? You must be desperate, huh?”

“Oh god, Daddy,” you whine, glancing down to catch his intense gaze. “You make me feel so good, I can’t help it. Please, please let me cum.”

He smirks against your hot cunt, fingers never tiring. “You’re such a good girl, I don’t even have to tell you to beg,” he sighs, eyes closing as he savors your taste. “God, you’re so sweet and wet. Now be a good girl and cum all over my face.”

His mouth sucks your clit back in, tongue smoothing over the nerve back and forth with renewed speed. His wrist finds a new angle, allowing his fingertips to assault your cunt even deeper than before.

Your body sweats feverishly against his hot embrace, and you cry out in surprise when his right hand slips under your shirt and then under your bra. The icy temperature awakens goosebumps on your skin and your nipple hardens quickly, rolling the pert bud between his thumb and forefinger. The novel sensation pushes your body over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his fingers harshly. Your hand claps over your mouth just in time as you let out a scream, your orgasm raking through your body. Your hips dig into the mattress, your pussy clenching and throbbing and leaking your cum all over Shouto’s fingers and his mouth.

Shouto’s fingers slow, but his tongue continues to lick eagerly at your clit, lapping up the fresh essence that leaks out of your slit. His fingertips brush over your sweet spot a few more times before he takes his fingers out of your hole, his tongue taking their place and tracing circles inside of you. He trails his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, circling the tip around your clit one last time before he pulls away, kissing your thighs with his slick lips.

Your body shivers as the tide of ecstasy recedes, eyes opening to see Shouto looking down at you intensely, his fingers in his mouth as he sucks your cum off his digits. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N,” his lips touch yours tenderly, almost softly. His fingers curl around the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue shyly licks your bottom lip, and your mouth gladly grants him entrance. Your taste lingers on his tongue, but it’s pleasant as his own tongue caresses yours gently. Your fingers curl under his jacket, pulling on the trim with pleading hands. Shouto’s hands leave you for a moment as he rips it off, flinging it onto the floor. He also yanks his t-shirt over his head, discarding it as he had the jacket. Your hands eagerly land on his broad, muscular chest, savoring his delicious build. Your lips meet his again and your tongue meekly pushes into his mouth, taking him by surprise. He moans into your lips, allowing your tongue to push his into moving in sync.

Shouto shuffles backwards so he sits between your legs, his hands gripping your waist and the back of your neck again, pulling you to sit upright with him as your lips continue to push against each other.

His hand grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up swiftly. Your lips break away from his for just a second as your shirt leaves you, but as soon your torso is exposed his hot lips are back on yours. This time, he takes the lead, easily dominating you as he shoves his tongue roughly between your lips. You gasp, only making his quest easier than before as you allow him further access. His hands clutch onto your waist, pulling your hips toward his. Your mouths part, shared shaky breath leaving the both of you. You watch as his eyes open slowly, gaze trained on your face before trailing down, regarding your uncovered chest and the lacy bralette.

“This,” he mumbles as his lips touch yours again, on hand settling on your hip while the other pinches at the clasp of the bralette,” has got to go.” The lacy material sags as the clasp opens, and his calloused fingers brush away the straps on your shoulders. He sweeps the discarded material off the edge of the bed, focus directing to your bare chest instead. His hand cups one of your breasts softly, lips gliding against yours as he groans. “Why are you so fucking irresistible?” He ducks his head so his mouth captures your nipple gracefully, licking and skimming his teeth along it teasingly.

You arch into his touch, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Your hands grab onto his skin as a destitute mewl floats out from your lips. “Shou,” you huff, wanting to catch his determined gaze once more.

His eyes cast upward toward yours impishly, a smile curling his lips as they hold onto your pert nipple. His tongue runs over the hard bud between his teeth, making you cry out softly.  “What did you call me, baby girl?” His hand claps swiftly against your ass cheek, your body jolting against his as you let out a shaky moan.

“I, I’m sorry Daddy,” you whisper, your body dismayed as he releases your breast, head returning to your eye level. His gaze analyzes yours, watching your expression perceptively. You had responded positively to the spank. “Can I…”

“What was that, baby girl? Spit it out,” he commands, his other hand clashing against your other cheek, which jiggles invitingly, advertising the fresh red mark he had just inflicted.

“Can I p-please suck your cock, Daddy?” you finally manage to choke out, an intense blush infiltrating your cheeks. Shouto’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise at your request, but a smirk quickly rises to his lips.

“You wanna suck my dick, baby?” his lips brush underneath your jaw as he leans in, sucking the skin there harshly and lapping over it with his tongue afterwards. “God, you’re such a fucking slut for me.” His fingers graze your soft folds again, making you buck your hips against him clumsily. He gazes at his digits, watching the trail of arousal string out as he stretches his fingers apart. “You really are my good baby girl,” he remarks, eyes landing back on your pleading expression. “Alright, go ahead. Show me what your sweet little mouth can do.”

Your hips shuffle forward, placing yourself on his lap as your hands splay down his muscular back. He hums mirthfully as you trace your hands down his torso, your lips finding solace on his trapezius. You roll your hips against his slowly, savoring how his hips jut up against yours and the way his head falls back at the action.

Eagerly, you shuffle to the edge of the bed, Shouto’s body following you on his own accord. Your head tucks down, yout tongue tracing a trail down his pec and swooping around his nipple slightly. A forced cough erupts from the back of his throat at the action, his skin more sensitive than he likes to admit. His hand combs through your hair, grabbing onto it as you place more kisses down his abs, stopping at the top of his jeans. You get off of him, sliding off the bed gracefully as your knees hit the floor in one languid action.

Shouto stands, hands undoing the button on his jeans hurriedly and he pushes the denim down his thighs halfway. His hot gaze lingers on you as you tentatively move forward, lips meeting his clothed cock in an innocent kiss, eyes glancing up to capture his. A hot blush rushes across his cheeks, and he’s glad you look away, focusing your attention back to his dick. Your hand meets the prominent outline of his cock, rubbing your fingertips along the shaft as you place an open-mouthed kiss on the head, effectively wetting his briefs. He swallows thickly, watching as you shyly tug the elastic band over his hips.

His cock springs free, bouncing out to touch your cheek impatiently. You smile at the sight of his dick so ready for you. His member stands thick and long, totally upright with veins popping out and running the length of his dick, the head swollen and red with just a drop of precum sitting pearled and ready. Restlessly, you wrap your hand around his cock, lips parting and tongue dragging along the tip of him, savoring the salty, musty taste.

Shouto has a wicked grin on his lips as he watches you from above, enjoying the sensation of his cock finally being acknowledged. “Oh, baby girl, you know I don’t like to be teased. Why don—”

You cut him off, mouth opening and taking in half his dick, tongue swirling on the underside carefully. Shouto’s smirk effectively is wiped off his face as you moan, the vibration locking his legs up as he shakes slightly, shocked at your sudden actions. Quickly while you have the upper hand, you bob backwards and then toward his body again, even more of his hard cock disappearing into your hot, wet mouth. He gasps for breath, mouth open and eyes wide as he watches his dick penetrate your lips. Your sinful tongue snaking around his shaft, a quiet “fuck” slips out of him as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. You moan at his sheer size, the action constricting your throat around him and his hips jolt into you. His cock slams even deeper into your throat and you repress the urge to throw up, gagging harshly and eyes watering as his gaze locks with yours. You lean back and gasp for air, coughing shakily.

Shouto bends down, hand moving your hair to the side as his expression shifts toward concern. “Are you okay baby girl? Sorry, that was a little rough for you,” he mumbles regretfully, hand rubbing your back.

You look back up at him and his breath stills as your gaze catches his. “Oh, Daddy, I love choking on your cock,” you admit, ignoring the tears stinging the corners of your vision. Your hand grabs his slick cock once again, taking him into your mouth and starting to bob on his length at a fast pace.

Shouto’s hand flies up to cover his mouth, his brow scrunched in a mix of pleasure and awe, watching your eager actions lustfully. Holy shit, you were so fucking hot to him.

You continue to nod along on his length, savoring the way his eyes flutter as his tip reaches the back of your throat each time. His hand clutches your hair tightly, moving along complacently as you set the pace. Your other hand floats up to fondle his balls, massaging them in your palm gently as your other hand digs your nails into his thigh.

Your mouth leaves his cock with a quiet pop, a thick string of saliva trailing between your parted lips and the head of his dick. You only mean to take a quick break to gasp for breath before you continue, but Shouto has other plans.

He pounces on you, rough hands cupping your ass and throwing you up into his arms so your center slaps against his abs. Your breath is ragged, chest shaking with sheer excitement. Shouto seems just as frantic, his wet, hard dick caressing your ass cheek as he places your back against the comforter, your head gently touching the pillow. He’s panting, warm breath rolling over your cheek as his two-toned eyes pierce your own. His body hovers over yours, long locks of red and white grazing your face. Your body jumps slightly at the feeling of his tip meeting your slick entrance, rubbing between your folds gently.

Your stomach momentarily stops roiling with anticipation as butterflies suddenly appear there instead, Shouto nudging his nose softly against yours. “You ready?” he whispers, cerulean and gray orbs peering deep into your eyes, searching, probing, for even the slightest wisp of doubt.

Your hand lifts and cups his jaw, pressing your lips to his sweetly for a moment. An unspoken thankfulness for his considerate gesture transferring from you to him. Your eyes open again, all tenderness gone. “I’ve been ready for you all night, Daddy.”

A wicked grin splits his lips, eyes glinting down at you as his hips rut forward, shoving his entire length into you in one powerful thrust. A mix between a wheeze and a shout of pleasure releases from you. The sensation of your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick cock, the feeling of him pushing your cervix aside to nestle deeply inside of you, caressing your most secret and hidden spot— it makes your eyes roll back and your lips fall open, even though no noise escapes.

Shouto is still as a statue above you, expression almost pained as he tries not to even breathe. You had never been this reactive to him before, your drenched pussy gripping his cock so tightly stars briefly danced underneath his eyelids. And yet, even with how tightly your core held him, it had been so gloriously easy to just slide his dick right into your awaiting trove, your essence leaking out from your hole to dampen the sheets.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you lament, your body shaking in bliss at his cock filling you so perfectly. Your whine seems to snap Shouto out of whatever cosmic trance he was in, his hips automatically pulling away only to snap back into you, a wet smack bouncing off the walls. “Shit,” he murmurs, repeating the action. His eyes jump from your pussy swallowing up his dick, to your face of pure bliss. Your jaw falling wide open, your eyelids clamped shut tightly, eyebrows drawn upwards in the middle of your forehead as you obediently take his cock. “You’re so fucking tight baby girl,” he groans, glancing down again to watch his dick sink into your scorching, slippery core.

It’s so hard for you to find your breath. Every time Shouto’s hips hit yours you forget everything else, including how to breathe it seems. You close your mouth, teeth pinching your bottom lip and eyes prying open to catch his sizzling gaze. He stares you down, your exchange intense as he dominates you, plunging his thick cock into you again. The feeling makes your eyes flutter, a fresh blush lacing your cheeks as you look at him.

Shouto’s lips are in a self-assured smirk, eyebrows scrunched as he leans down onto you, carelessly rubbing his tip into your g-spot. Your pussy throbs and you fight back a sob of pleasure, your eyes still wet from choking on his dick minutes before. “Daddy,” you wail as he positions himself closer to you, arm curling tenderly around your waist to arch your back, pushing your hard nipples up against his strong chest. His hips dig into yours, grinding the head of his dick against your spot. Both your body and your walls shiver at the action, fingers curling into the covers hysterically.

“What do you want, baby girl?” he whispers, voice low and more gravely than you had imagined possible.

You lick your lips urgently, throwing a short look to his dick retreating from your aching slit before catching his sinful gaze again. “Please Daddy, I want you to fuck me,” your hair fanned around your pretty face, your cheeks bright red, desperation filling your wide eyes. Your needy look makes Shouto groan, his heart slamming against his rib cage. God, it was so hard for him to not give in… but he really wanted to hear you beg.

His hips glide into yours slowly, pulling out and pushing back in at a measured, hesitant tempo. Even just these careful thrusts has you covering your mouth, head tossed back in ecstasy. His hips carefully rake against yours a few more times before he leans in close. His lips ghosting over the hammering pulse in your throat. “Like this, baby girl?” His body trembles as he restrains himself, strung out like a ticking bomb as he continues his calculated ministrations.

You grab the back of his neck, lacing your fingers in the short hair and pulling harshly. He lets out a small moan, hips stuttering as he almost strays from his plan.

You wiggle your hips flush against his, opening your legs wider and securing them around his waist. “Daddy, I love your dick so much,” you whisper onto his neck, feeling his hands tremor just a bit before you smile against his skin. “Please fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Shouto sighs, pulling almost all the way out before shoving his whole cock back into you. Your eyes roll backwards in your skull and before you can even cry out, he does it again… and again, and again. His pace is so fast and hard you can’t keep up. His hips snapping harshly against yours, he fucks you like his life depends on it. His hand is turning the flesh on your waist white as he slams your hips onto his, strangled gasps falling out of his mouth. Your lips fall apart but you can’t muster any words, hell, you can’t even produce a single thought. “Fuck yes, Y/N,” he hisses, balls deep in your dripping core. “Your cunt is so wet for Daddy— you love being fucked like this, don't you, baby girl?”

All you can do is nod weakly, overwhelmed by the pressure building between your legs. You whimper, nails digging into Shouto’s prominent back muscles as your toes curl in bliss. He laughs crudely at your frazzled state, sounding more like a snarl as he continues the delicious onslaught on your g-spot.

“What was that, baby girl?” he teases short-windedly, your cunt trembling around his thick member. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

You try your best to clear your throat, but only a dissolute sob comes out. Shouto’s hand grabs your chin sharply, and your eyes fly open as his rapid pants fan your cheek. You summon some unknown force within you and push the words— any words you can think of— out of your mouth. “Your h-huge dick makes me — nnngh!— m-makes my slutty cunt feel so fucking good Daddy!” you cry, celebrating in the way your testimony summons a hot pink flush to your boyfriend’s cheeks. He continues to pound into you, his efforts revitalized. The reaction only eggs you on as your lips part on their own again. Your eyes wide as this unknown, brazen side of you surfaces,” I want you to fuck me so hard, please abuse my pussy Daddy, it’s all yours.”

Shouto’s eyes roll back at your plea, and he wonders for a split second why you’d never shown him this side of you before. He absolutely loves it. He pulls out of you for a moment and you wail at the loss of his hot, thick length. Just as fast as he left, he’s flipping you over, grabbing your hips, and raising them into the air. You barely even realize you’re on your knees before you register his cock crashing harshly into your tender core, a scream ripping through you and luckily being swallowed into your pillow. A loud clap! sounds and your ass stings, making you arch into his chilled palm. “Oh, baby girl. You’re such a fucking slut for me,” he chuckles darkly, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis and savoring the fresh pink mark. Goddamn, he never knew hitting you like this would turn him on. One of his hands reaches out and grabs your ankle, shifting the angle of your hips slightly and rocking your body back to meet his with every thrust. The other hand squishes your ass cheek, hot fingers digging into your supple skin.

“Fuck,” you huff, face retreating from the pillow to finally gasp a breath of fresh air in. “Holy fuck!” you exclaim as Shouto continues to drill his dick into you. The sheer force of him pushing so deeply into you makes a tear roll down your cheek. You’d never been fucked so good in your life. And you never imagined that Shouto would be the one to dominate you like this either-- the boy was usually so collected and calm. A sharp crack! yanks you out of your thoughts, a delectable tingling sensation spreading over your ass. Your head falls back to look at your boyfriend, who is ready to catch your gaze with a pointed, seductive look.

“You like when I treat you like this, baby girl?” he slams you onto his abs, making a startled shriek float out from you. He simpers at your reaction, hand leaving your ankle to wrap around your torso, encasing your breast while his icy thumb rubs your nipple gently.

You can’t help but curve into him, shoving your cunt harder onto his waiting cock. A short grunt slithers out of him, and his thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive bud forcefully.  “Mmmph-- I love it so much,” you gasp, one hand shakily reaching toward your throbbing clit.

Shouto’s eyes follow the movement, and he gulps as you touch yourself, the new stimulation making your pussy instantly squeeze around him tightly. His gaze sharpens with vehemence as your cunt grasps him needily, fluttering distinctly around his dick. Your soft whimpers are muffled into the duvet as you rub your slick clit repeatedly, the tension burning between your legs building rapidly with such provocation. “Baby girl, are you close?” he whispers hoarsely, fingertips turning white as he brashly clutches you soft skin.

You nod wildly, not caring if your makeup smudges against the sheets. “I, oh god Shou, I’m so close,” you warn, pussy clamping onto him forcefully.

An anguished sob rips from your throat as Shouto pulls his cock out, leaving your cunt aching and empty. With tears springing into your eyes, you look back at him, dejection prominent in your gaze. But all he greets you with is a gentle smile, hands trailing off of you to feather his fingertips against the skin of your waist. “On your back, baby girl. I want you to look at me when you cum all over my cock,” he tantalizes, and you instantly roll over, legs stretched far apart. He snickers lightly, eyes scouring down your flushed body, lingering on your glistening, trembling core. He scoots forward, pushing your back against the headboard, tucking a pillow behind you thoughtfully. “Give Daddy a kiss, baby girl,” he murmurs, and your plush lips greet his own right away. He hums, savoring the feeling of your hot tongue rolling against his. The way you follow his orders with such enthusiasm sends fresh blood to his cock, which twitches irritably against your wet cunt.

You whine impatiently as his dick slides against your slit, his tongue driving yours into submission. Your heart hammers against your ribs in anticipation as his arms tuck underneath your knees, folding your legs against your stomach and then pushing them open so his body fits between them perfectly. His tips presses against your quivering entrance, and the hand around his cock guides himself in slow circles, collecting your arousal before he pushes into you.

He only enters you halfway but your body quakes at the feeling of your walls welcoming him inside once more. His hips shuffle, easing his cock further and further into your sopping cunt with each thrust. His breath is heavy but measured as he finds a rhythm, battling against your clenched heat as he shoves himself inside you. His hands gently grasp the top of your hips, holding you close to himself but doing so almost tenderly. “Did you think about me when you touched yourself to that nasty video baby girl?” he pants, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. His eyes burning with dominance, tongue running ferociously under his teeth.

You gasp for breath, locking eyes with him and nodding wantonly. “Yes, yes I always think of you when I touch myself Daddy,” you attest, head falling atop the pillow as his left hand gropes your breast in response. The renewed frost of his palm causing you to jerk against him, his hips persist the assault on your core. His hot right hand pushes your calf into the air, making you tighten around him as he accesses your deepest point again.

“Is that all, princess?” Your cunt tightens against his thick cock at his prompt. His hips roll divinely against yours, the new movement making his abdomen brush against your clit. Your lip trembles, recognizing the numb feeling sprouting within you that signals your orgasm is near. “Don’t you wanna convince me to let you cum?” he presses on, thumb swiping across your perky nipple and inciting a lustful moan from you. Shouto knows that you’re hurtling toward the edge, but it’s so much fun to see if you’ll be able to control yourself for him.

“I— oh god, Daddy,” you squirm slightly in his hold, your peak dangerously impending.

“Take your time, baby girl,” he smolders, lips hung tightly in a victorious smirk. Watching you melt in his hands, he notices that he’s nearing his own climax… but he pushes the thought of it away now so he can focus on you.

You feel a wave of heat wash through your body, toes curling almost painfully as you press your lips together into a firm line. You glance down to watch Shouto’s cock disappear into your center one more time before you look at his face, catching his eye. “I,” you gulp, sucking in a breath of air before he had the chance to steal it from you. “I can never make myself feel as good as you do, Shouto.” You relish the way his eyelids sink hazily, his teeth capturing his pretty bottom lip. “Y-You make me— nghhh— feel so full when you hit my g-spot, ah!” your hands fly to his shoulders as his own viciously grip your hips, pace and force increased. “Please!” you beg,” Please let me cum Daddy! I— I’ve been so good for you, please!”

He laughs menacingly against the moist skin of your neck, “I suppose you have been a good girl, Y/N.” He can feel your legs quivering as you dangle on the edge, a wave of pride washing over him as he looks at your wrecked state. “Whose— fuck, whose pussy is this?” He leans close to your face, pushing your leg against your body even tighter.

Your voice cracks in desperation, spine curving into a crescent shape as your fingernails scrape his shoulders. “Yours! Oh my god— Yours, Shouto— Daddy! Please!”  You were so close, the corners of your vision going blurry.

His hips continue to slap against yours ruthlessly. His curled lips press a chaste kiss to your cheek, nose pressing against your ear as he commands,” Cum for me, baby girl.”

Your legs stiffen around his hips, the rubber band of your orgasm snapping brutally as your pussy clenches onto your boyfriend for dear life. His lips cover yours as you let out a defeated and unfiltered moan, hips crashing against his in ecstasy. He wheezes as your cunt voraciously grips his length, hips stuttering as he lets you ride out your climax. His mouth leaves yours and swoops down, slurping a nipple into his mouth, suckling and twirling his tongue around the peak. Your lungs burn for air as you gasp, lightning tingling from your fingertips to your toes. You brush an overwhelmed tear from your cheek, your mind beginning to fan off the clouds of pleasure.

Shouto lets go of your nipple, returning to pound into you from above. His movements are rough and fast, and they abuse your already aching g-spot even more, making your eyes nearly cross. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps, perspiration dripping down the deep grooves of his muscular torso,” You’re such a good baby girl for Daddy, look at you taking my cock so well.” He throws his head back, harsh pants traveling towards the ceiling as he realizes he doesn’t have to hold back his own orgasm any longer. Fuck, was he this close to busting a nut in you the entire time?

You nudge your nose underneath his slacked jaw, making him hang his head again for you to capture his lips. His lips dance against yours clumsily, the tempo of his hips becoming jerky. You can feel his ragged breath on your skin, low moans tumbling out from his mouth as his eyes clench shut. “Daddy,” you whimper, wiggling your hips to push against his further.

Shouto curses under his breath, eyes peeling open into slits to regard your provocative expression. “Y-Yes, baby girl?” he groans, taking in the way your round breasts bounce to the glide of his thrusts.

“Please cum for me,” you plead, your hands running along his solid, sweaty frame. He moans at your request, hips bumping clumsily into yours at his heightened pace. “I want your cum to fill me up, please, Shouto,” you urge, “I need it so bad!” Your cheeks blush once again at your erotic invitation, and Shouto feels himself rip through the finish line as he takes in your bashful, demure expression.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he grumbles, his hips jutting against yours lazily as his cock spurts his hot, thick load into you. Your cunt quivering as you receive his cum, your body thrums, sharing in the ecstasy radiating off of Shouto’s rigid form. He whimpers as he pumps into you a few more times, the last of his cum shooting into your welcoming core before he stills.

Shouto’s slick torso gently sags onto your body, shaky breaths dragging into his lungs as he attempts to recover. His face falling into your neck, he groans as your pussy clenches on his still-hard dick. His palms meet the swell of your breasts, thumbs softly caressing the prominent buds that stand upright for him. His lips glide against the sleek skin of your neck, and you feel his eyelashes tickle your jaw as he places sweet and gentle kisses to your throat.

You barely recognize the fluid dribbling out of your pussy, collecting into a small puddle underneath your ass. It’s just Shouto and you in this moment, the two of you savoring each other’s presence. He stays hovering over you for a minute, body still connected with yours as he gains his sanity. Your eyes are closed, breathing finally evening out.

His lips greet yours playfully, gliding in sync as one of his hands travels to your neck, tipping your head back so he has better access to your mouth. Your lips part with a whine as he takes his cock out of you, feeling empty and sore without his warm fullness inside anymore. His tongue coasts deeper into your mouth, tangling with yours as his fingers slip into the hair at the nape of your neck. He lets your leg slide off his shoulder, placing it down next to his hip with care. He pulls his mouth away from yours, chuckling deeply as his mischievous eyes meet yours.

Your eyebrow quirks up, a small smile gracing your lips too. “What?” you pout, fingers hanging around the back of his neck.

The smile that splits his lips is blinding and so genuine, it stuns you for a moment before you process his words.

“You nasty, baby girl.”

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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make sure to shoot me an ask or a reblog if you enjoyed, nasty bb girls ♥︎ thank you for reading!!

masterlist (no other fics at this point as of feb 6, 2020)

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