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#They have little kitten claws
hannahalexart · 1 year
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Mermay 2020: Octopus Bros! 🐙💜🐙
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onedivinemisfit · 2 months
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Prepping a birthing box for the widdle mommy-to-be
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mothpurr · 1 year
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born to watch you pee forced to listen from outside the door
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kissycat · 8 months
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Regarding the Chris Fleming woodland creature bit. I sometimes wonder if my cat branding reads as this self infantilizing im so cute and small and can't do any wrong thing and you have to be so niceys to me... When in fact part of why I relate to cats is the "negative"/difficult traits like being finicky distant scratchy sometimes... Which is more cute when it's a cat ofc but like... um yeah whatever
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killuaisaprincess · 1 year
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🥃
“Shh, it’s okay, my love. I’ll give you what you want.”
Killua stops crying at those words, hiccuping, and looking up at Gon with those big blue eyes of his, and Gon forgets how to breathe.
Even with mascara running down his face, Killua is the most adorable thing ever.
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crowcryptid · 5 months
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Evil little kitten baby who doesn’t really have a name aka newest adopted cat just ate a roach
A small one. I witnessed it.
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lymtw · 1 month
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Toji's favorite part about fighting with you is making up with you. He loves what comes after you shoving him in a fit of anger and pushing your finger into his chest to accentuate that the reason you're upset is because of him. He just looks at you with this twisted grin on his face, waiting for you to get it all out. Your aggression is like a gentle breeze to him, and he knows exactly what to say to get you to calm down, too. It's always "'m sorry, doll. You know I didn't mean it like that" or "you have the right to be upset, princess. Should've been better for you". Once there is no fight left in you, he traps you like a venus flytrap, tying the whole argument up and tossing it away with a little murmur of "I can make it better".
In no way is it a soft and fluffy reconciliation, though. The side of your face is pressed into a pillow, your back arched for him as he takes you from behind. He has one hand holding you down by the nape of your neck, the other has a death grip on your hip. "You got it all out, ma? Hm? You calm?" He grunts.
Your hands curl into fists around the fabric of your pillow. Part frustration, part pleasure. You mumble a little, "mhm" a little whine following. You figure this is his way of retaking his dominance after your little tantrum.
"Speak up, doll. Say 'yes, Toji,'" he says, his grip on your hip tightening even more. You can already picture the bruises that'll appear later on.
"Yes, Toji." Your brows pinch when the hand that's on your nape goes down to play with your clit, your knees threatening to give out.
"You're not pissed anymore?" He asks, leaning forward to press kisses on your back.
"N-No," you moan.
"Don't lie to me, princess. You know i'll find out." He grins, seeing the way your hands claw at the sheets.
"Toji, 'm not," you grunt, "'m calm, now."
He laughs at that. You're looking like you can't stand him, like you want to be anywhere but around him, but you're conflicted because you still want him to dick you down.
"We'll keep going 'til you start telling the truth."
And that's exactly what happened. He held your orgasm over you until you relaxed. Tears of frustration were involved, little giggles were lured out of you, he made you tell him you loved him—though that part wasn't hard at all, and then he gave you a mind numbing orgasm that left you trembling under him.
Afterwards he laid on the bed, and you curled up right beside him like a little kitten, passed out from exhaustion. He lets out a satisfied sigh, thinking of how simple you are to figure out and how easy it is to bring back the angel in you. Just need some good dick.
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soaps-mohawk · 16 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes
Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7925 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.
A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)
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You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack. 
Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest. 
Now you know why. 
The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside. 
They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault. 
If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to. 
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You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you. 
“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.” 
Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny. 
“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore. 
“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.” 
You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible. 
You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too. 
You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization. 
You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head. 
Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything. 
You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed. 
You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”
“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.” 
You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night. 
You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart. 
He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s. 
He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling. 
You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you. 
He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him. 
“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh. 
“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you. 
“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat. 
“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him. 
“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed. 
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“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout. 
You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.  
“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you. 
You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms. 
You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did. 
His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. 
You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.” 
“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table. 
“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth. 
“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”
Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you. 
You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different. 
Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas. 
Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways. 
Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night. 
Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you. 
His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.” 
Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.” 
Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.” 
You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?” 
He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.” 
He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.
You know it will be worth the wait. 
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“How have you been?” 
You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.” 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?” 
“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. 
“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down. 
Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.” 
“About what?” She probes, staring at you. 
You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.” 
“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question. 
You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.” 
“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?” 
You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.” 
“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.” 
“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants. 
“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all. 
“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say. 
Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.” 
Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter. 
That’s just the life of an omega. 
Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you? 
“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.” 
“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.” 
Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs? 
“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.” 
“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity. 
“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.” 
You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask. 
“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.” 
“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her. 
“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?” 
You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.” 
“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?” 
You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.” 
“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.” 
She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that. 
Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...
The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful. 
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“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body. 
“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?” 
“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.
“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse. 
It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness. 
“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?” 
You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.” 
“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.” 
He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use? 
You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent. 
Scent. 
Of course. 
You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers. 
Simple enough. 
You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.
You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you. 
You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing. 
You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner. 
You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly. 
You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door. 
Simple enough. 
Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze. 
In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder. 
“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince. 
Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk. 
“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!” 
“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now. 
“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you. 
You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.” 
“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks. 
“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk. 
“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you. 
“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.” 
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The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end. 
The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are. 
You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path. 
John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore. 
You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself. 
It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end. 
He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs. 
You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him. 
It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask. 
You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal. 
He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes. 
“Kiss me?” You ask. 
Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp. 
“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. 
He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you. 
“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.” 
His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs. 
He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache. 
“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.” 
You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?” 
He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?” 
“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles. 
His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap. 
“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you. 
“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him. 
“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.” 
“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.” 
“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.” 
You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him. 
“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously. 
“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” 
“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.” 
“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.” 
“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed. 
You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity. 
You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips. 
“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?” 
“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth. 
You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips. 
“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue. 
You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.
You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again. 
Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position. 
“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.” 
“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.” 
“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed. 
You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first. 
It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.
You truly do it at the worst possible times.
You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.” 
You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room. 
“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 
“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.” 
Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist. 
“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back. 
“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip. 
“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle. 
You hope. 
He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours. 
“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze. 
“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?” 
You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.” 
“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.” 
You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you. 
“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.” 
“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again. 
Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.
He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you. 
“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.” 
“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?” 
Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now. 
“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him. 
His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful. 
He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again. 
“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips. 
“Tired already?” You ask cheekily. 
“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.” 
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You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble. 
You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price. 
You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face. 
“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal. 
You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze. 
He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”  
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Taglist:
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dante-mightdie · 11 days
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Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺
There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺
It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.
beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp
c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless
he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price
it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are
and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family
you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either
he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements
he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down
your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude
it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up
goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,
"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections
“appreciating what was gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did
you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love
somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope
perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.
However.
There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.
You love rubbing his tummy.
You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.
He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.
"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-
“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"
You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.
"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.
"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"
Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?
Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.
You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.
All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.
Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.
Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.
"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-
"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"
Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.
"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"
Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.
He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.
"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.
"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-
Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
Text
The Safeword is RadioApple (part 2)
This part doesn’t have the Alastor x Lucifer scene I previewed! I pushed it to the next part since this was already a big chunk of text. I hope you still enjoy it! 🥺 I can do a male reader, I just need a little time as I’ll need to rewrite quite a bit
Locked doors
「Luci was pining to return to your bed, even if he couldn’t fully understand why Alastor exists in it. Luckily for you both, You got a night alone with the King of Hell and before Alastor can implode the whole situation, he had a change of heart perspective.」
[warnings/promises: Lucifer x FemReader, smut, No AlastorxReader this part, Luci eats you out, Luci has a nose, Alastor thinks about gardening but in a jerk kind of way, s e x, Husker is reminded of his chains, Charlie is naive, Facesitting, Luci’s horns, sweet little kisses, aftercare at the before part, creampie is like nyquil, Luci is an entire daddy kink]
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
minors DNI 🤌🏼
He didn’t want to be fully naked near Alastor, but the idea of bathing with you overpowered his hate. When he entered the bathroom, he found you reclining into Alastor, back to chest, as Alastor’s fingers massaged soap into your upper arms.
Your eyes, closed in comfort, popped open when you sensed his presence, “Luci!” Your legs folded, “Get in.”
Lucifer looked around the clawed foot porcelain tub. He didn’t want to admit he liked the style, obviously picked out by Alastor. With the same hesitancy as before, he stripped and lowered himself in the water opposite you and Alastor.
A wave of stress, again, watching you two intertwined in each other’s attention. But you pushed back against that feeling, hands slipping past his hooved feet until you found his calf. Lifting his leg up, Lucifer yelped as he slid down into the water. Your hands rubbed along the muscle of his leg, humming softly.
He watched you, Alastor disappearing from view entirely. “Thank you, Kitten.” Your smile widened. Eyes wandering down, he found your foot and pressed into the arches with strong fingers. You moaned, visibly relaxing into Alastor’s chest. “Feel good?”
You nodded, “Your hands only ever make me feel good, Luci.”
He nearly choked on his breath, cheeks brightening a scarlet red. How could you get so brutally fucked and still speak to sweetly? Was that really the same mouth?
A stupid grin spread across your face as you pressed into Alastor.
“Happy?” He asked, low and into your hair. 
“Happiest.”  Eyes closed, basking in the glory of your conquest. “What do you like to do after sex?”
It took Lucifer a second to realize you were talking to him, “Oh! Uhh,” a nervous scratch to his cheek, “Kiss? Cuddle. Normal things.” He hoped Alastor took the word normal as an insult but unfortunately he seemed to not be paying any attention. Without opening your eyes, you spread your arms and invited Lucifer to kiss.
He felt his knees graze Alastor’s legs as he shifted, leaning in to you he let his lips touch yours gently. Your arms came around his shoulders and pulled him in for more. He fell into your chest, pressing your body further into Alastor’s. You cooed into his mouth, opening to lick across his lips, finally looking at him. Staring into each other’s eyes, you hoped he could see it, hoped your absolute bliss was palpable to him. Sandwiched between your own personal rock and hard place, you struggled to keep a naughty giggle in your chest. What a lucky girl you were. 
Properly cleaned and doted on, you found yourself in Alastor’s large bed with the men. Alastor had no issues slipping under the blankets and into sleep, your body curled up against his. You were facing Lucifer, who looked exhausted. 
“Sorry for the shock.” You whispered, hand slipping from under the blanket to hold his own. Your mouth opened to say something else, but you stopped yourself. You felt like Lucifer needed space to process.
And he did, taking a moment to look over your face, large red and black deer ears peeking from the blankets behind you. 
“Why did he have to be here?” His fangs bared, “Why not just us?”
Your fingers twirled the wedding band on his left hand, “We have our own little set of rules for what is okay, and he’s always going to be there. That’s the only way this can work.”
Always? This? He wasn’t sure which to grab ahold of first. 
“I’ll never get you alone?” He thought he hid his sadness, but he was in fact pouting very noticeably. 
“Not unless Alastor says so.”
Neither noticed Alastor’s grin slipping through his fake sleep.
His pout deepened, “I hate him.”
“I know.” You laughed, because it was funny. There was really no reason for either of them to hate each other but it seemed neither of their egos could exist in the same room without causing the bad kind of friction. 
“But I -,” He laced his fingers with yours, stopping the reminder of his own vows and to some extent your own, “You. I don’t hate you.”
“Do you not-hate me enough?” said quieter than your other questions, as nervous for the answer as you were the first one of the night. 
“Enough?” Brow knit, Lucifer’s pout melted away. You squeezed his hand. Could he tolerate Alastor enough? Get enough of you for himself? His mind came to greed, to Mammon and his disgust for the sin incarnate. Lucifer had been greedy before, tried to take more than he was allowed, and it led to very terrible things. Some would argue the very worst of all things. 
His nod was barely perceivable. You wondered if you’d imagined it. Perhaps your heart was beating so fast, your eyes shook just enough to see what you wanted. 
Lucifer fell asleep, hand in yours. When he woke, he found himself turned around. At some point he must have rolled away from you, but before he could wake enough to correct the situation, he noticed your own sounds. 
“Allie~” You purred, a tone he had never heard you use before an– Allie?? He gagged.
He could feel the blankets shifting, bed dipping behind him. 
“You’re in odd form, beloved.” Alastor said it softly, not meant for anyone else to ever hear, “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
A huff, a sigh, you made the smallest whimper, “Do you think Luci -?”
Alastor didn’t let you finish, “I don’t ever think about him, darling. So, no.”
Lucifer heard a smack of skin, you playfully hitting Alastor’s chest. “Be nice,” It was a warning, not a suggestion. “I didn’t want to wake him up yet…” The bed dipped again before he felt your hands slip under his arm and down his chest. He tensed, “Luci” you whispered a sing-song form of his name, “Wake up, please. I need your company before I start my day.”
He wanted to whip around but knew that’d be suspicious, he needed to play it cool. Be a man who was totally asleep this whole time. Lucifer closed his eyes, as if you could see his face at all, and forced out a yawn. “Hmm?” He hoped he sounded sleepy, as he was fully alert at this point. 
“Good morning, your majesty.” Your hand snaked down his stomach, “Can I have a moment of your time, sire? I’d like an audience with you.” 
He bit his bottom lip, loving the way you spoke about his position. “Sire” was now second to “Daddy” to his ears. His mind couldn’t play along, already overwhelmed. “I’m not busy at the moment…so…” 
Stupid. Terrible. 
Alastor agreed with the sentiment Lucifer didn’t vocalize. 
Your hand slipped immediately into his boxers, little blue shorts with bright yellow duckies. Taking long, gentle strokes you found him eager to wake up for you, too. 
Luci folded the pillow into his face, stifling a groan as he grew under your fingers. You let his foreskin slide up and down his shaft, rubbing along his head until he had grown too large to accommodate. Luckily for you and Luci, he was leaking like a faucet and providing you just the lubricant to keep your hand gliding over his length. 
He rolled over and began to kiss you, but you quickly pushed him onto his back, coming to straddle him. “May I?” You ground your hips down, wet lips sliding across his cock. Lucifer choked out a reply, something between “yes” and “please” fell from his mouth. You were already naked? Had he missed something?
His eyes flitted to Alastor, who was leaving the bed and going to his armoire. You brought his attention back to you, one hand on his stomach, the other lining him up. Still soft and sore from the night before, Luci much easier slipped into you as you sank down until he was fully sheathed. Taking a moment, you sat on his impossibly hard cock and tried to think of where to put your hands. You leaned back, finding the angle to press his length along your plush g-spot. Slowly, hands on his thighs behind you, you rose up and lowered yourself. 
Luci’s hands came to your hips, needing something to hold on to. Watching you bounce on his cock was making him sweat, not taking into account the feeling of your tight heat so early in the morning. His sweet angel, taking his cock so well. He fought the urge to push you down and let months of pent up affection pound you into the bed.
Soon enough, you were rising and just letting your full body weight drop onto his lap. When you tried to take a hand to touch yourself, Luci’s tail wound up your thigh. You were startled, slowing to see the spade tip pressing down and flicking across your needy clit.
“What the fuck, Luci?” a breathy rhetorical, hand going back to his thigh to regain the speed and force you lost. As you found yourself coming up to that edge, pleasure peaking, you began to moan out his name. Little “Luci”’s and Lucifer”’s chanted to the ceiling. 
Luci’s head pushed down into the pillow, mind unfurling. “Enough,” He whispered into the air, hips rutting up to meet your frenzied thrusts, his reply lost in the sounds of your bodies connecting. 
⫘⫘⫘
Lucifer tried to be normal around the hotel, but as hours turned to days he found it harder and harder to keep it together. While always aware of you, always looking for you, he was now noticing the dynamic between yourself and Alastor. The two of you were often in the same spaces, but rarely together. It baffled him. If you were his, he’d never take his hands off you. His fingers would always be in yours, hand on your back, arm linked in arm. How could Alastor exist around you in any other state than at your feet? 
He began to wonder what exactly you saw in the deer demon. Yes, his dick did work, much to Lucifer’s surprise. But surely that wasn’t it. Because Lucifer’s dick also worked. The math was not mathing.
His bed was suddenly too large. Silk sheets too cold. Room too quiet. Lucifer found himself pacing the halls at night, mind wandering to what you were doing. What you both may be doing. How he would, could, fit in.
Any time he could, he found a reason to touch you. Handing him a plate? Fingers gliding over yours. Entering the same room? Ah, his hand fit so perfectly on the small of your back as he let you go first. Look at this paper! Slide beside him, let his hand come to rest on your waist. Before, he avoided every chance to feel your skin under his own. Now, he was hungry for every little taste. He felt like lightning bit him with every connection to you. He wondered if you felt it, too. 
Alastor wasn’t blind. He saw Lucifer’s eyes watching you. How he followed you like a lost puppy. 
He nearly snapped his microphone in two one morning, seeing Lucifer’s hand around your waist. It was odd, the sex? No issue! Who cares? It’s just bodies. He knew you were satisfied with him regardless of if you ever fucked. You both were quite content to just lie in bed and read, kissing and cuddling under the blankets before bed. 
But something about this was getting under his skin. Maybe it was the public setting, almost an insult to him. Showing everyone how the King of Hell could have anything he wanted. Anyone.
Or maybe it was something messier. These weren’t lustful touches. His hands were always so gentle on you, tender. There was emotion behind the way Lucifer’s fingers grazed your body. He was fine with watching another soul lust after you. Your body was something he could share, just flesh. Your heart? His hair bristled. Would Lucifer undermine what he had?
Mint. His mother planted it once in the yard. Mint grows exceptionally well. Too well. If not properly contained, it will spread across the garden and become a weed and overtake the other plants.
He relished in uprooting the mint by the fistfuls. 
Seeing Lucifer laugh loudly, leaning into your ear to whisper something that made you giggle in return, Alastor thought about mint. Best when ripped from the ground and muddled with a ridged dowel. 
When you knocked on Lucifer’s studio door later that night, the place he had built specially for himself in the new and improved hotel, he frantically tried to clean up the space. You hadn’t been alone with him since that morning nearly a week prior now. 
Truth be told, you hadn’t actually planned on Lucifer agreeing to join Alastor and you in bed. You weren’t sure how to politely invite him back without sounding like you saw him as just a fuck buddy. When you voiced your concern to Alastor, he laughed. Then patted your head.
Not overly helpful.
“Hey there! Long time no see huh?” He laughed a little too hard.
“Luci, we saw each other at breakfast.” 
His hat seemed to wither on his head, “Right yeah haha that— time away from you feels so long! The heart —,” he stopped talking, “Inside?” Wide eyed, he gestured for you to enter. 
With a nod, you walked in. Just, so many ducks. An ungodly number of ducks. Too many, some could argue.
“What’s the latest creation?” You searched the room for anything obviously special.
Lucifer grabbed your hand as he walked past and pulled you to the desk. “Check this out.” He cupped his hands, holding up a duck with six wings and tiny horns. The wings flapped gently.
“Little Luci duck?” You tapped the beak. 
He hummed, “Do you like it? I thought maybe for your bath.” 
You genuinely didn’t know what to say. Your finger slid up the head and down the back. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed the tiny orange beak. “Now I can have you in my bath every night.” 
A smirk, squiggly and long spread across his face.  Shoulder to shoulder at his drawing table, he leaned over to kiss your cheek. Your finger tapped your lips, instructions for where to bring his lips next.
“Dad?”
Lucifer flipped around, knocking up against the desk and causing ducks to cascade down, “CHARLIE! Haha! HEY!” 
Charlie was standing in the open doorway, eyes bouncing from you to Lucifer and back. “Sorry, are you… busy?”
If you stayed very very still maybe she wouldn’t see you. 
No? Yes? Which— which was the least suspicious?
“No?” Lucifer offered.
“I wanted to talk to you about some hotel stuff. I can come back later?”
You folded, sliding away from Lucifer, “I was just going, actually.” You nodded at Charlie, hands behind your back holding your duck. 
Alastor lied on your bed while you wallowed, your upset amusing to him. Where you saw an issue, he saw an opportunity. His wide smile seemed to shine under the dim light of your room, “Charlie is too innocent to make such a leap, dear. She’d need much more than that to suspect anything.” 
“I just don’t wanna cause him trouble. His life has enough strife. I didn’t start this to make things harder on him.” You buried your face into the pillow. 
His hand petted softly at your hair, “Why did you start this?”
You and Alastor weren’t a very sexual couple, and though your libido was stronger opposed to Alastor’s distinct lack of one, that was never an issue. But part of why he even allowed Lucifer to join your bed was to help round out your pleasure. Not that Luci was just a dick to you, literally. Alastor knew how badly you wanted to dote on the monarch, and when we you discussed your desires he was happy to oblige. As long as you didn’t stray from his side, Alastor was fine with holding the reins of this extension, of sorts, to your own relationship. 
But he was, at his core, a mortal soul. He was not impervious to feelings of envy.
“Well, yes, more sex with powerful people is quite nice.” Alastor nodded in agreement, the openness something he was fine with. “But I just wanna see him smile more. He’s so-,”
“Insignificantly small?”
You glared from over the pillow, “Cute.”
His fingers traced down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face to receive a kiss, “Do I still have the controlling share of your heart?”
Rarely, nearly never, did Alastor admit worry. You immediately sat up, the simple question sending off alarms. “Of course! Say the word, I’ll lock the door. Our doors only open as wide as we decide. Together.” Alastor hummed, content with the answer. 
“That’s all I need to hear! I will be back by midnight, don’t lock anything before then.” With a kiss to your forehead, he excused himself down to the bar.
Sure enough, within an hour Lucifer pulled himself into a bar stool and asked Husk for a soda water with lime. He notoriously avoided alcohol.
From his chair, Alastor watched the king of hell frown into the glass. If he could, he would drink that pitiful look by the bottle.
Alastor appeared beside Lucifer, flashing two fingers to Husk. 
“You look like the dog who got kicked.” Alastor’s grin, toothy and sharp, smiled at Lucifer. A laugh track faintly played in the background of his static voice.
“Hey here’s an idea! Go fuck yourself.”
War requires sacrifice. To truly get what you want will always cost you. Alastor knew this well, having paid many prices along his life and death to ultimately come out ahead. 
“She’s quite sad, you know. Poor thing is in her bed now, cradling a small duck.” Alastor tipped his glass into his mouth. Lucifer didn’t reply, frown pushing into a pout.
“She’ll be asleep by 11, normally when she starts to doze off. Unless, of course, she’s otherwise preoccupied.” The whiskey burned, he only drank it neat. Unadulterated.
“Are you bragging? Why are you telling me this, you haunted broomstick?”
The glass cracked in his hand as he set it down, “Because, you empty headed lawn ornament, I’m giving you my blessing to visit her.” Alastor’s bones seemed to snap as his head turned to look at Lucifer with an eerie jerking.
Immediately he perked up, “Oh. Together?” Suspicious.
“I’ll be there later.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side, “You can go ahead.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, “What’s the catch?”
“No catch! Why so suspicious?” Alastor’s eyes rolled, now with a smaller grin, “My darling just has such an appetite, whereas I don’t need quite as much, as often.” 
That made… sense. A lot of sense, actually. Lucifer let that bit of information blanket the past week of observations and everything lined up. 
“Oh!” Lucifer swivelled his chair, “Okay….does she..want me to see her?” He gripped his cane, a nervous reaction, “She hasn’t actually brought it up since.”
“How would I know? I was as shocked as you when she asked for you in the first place.” Husk watched Alastor’s smile twitch, hearing what sounded like pure annoyance in his voice as he said it. 
Lucifer opened his mouth to make a jab, but thought better of it and abandoned the drink and the bar to find you. 
Husk tried to sneak away, but felt the tug of his chains.
“What did you hear, Husker?” Husk’s fur stood on end as he slowly turned to face the fearsome radio demon. 
“Nothing, boss. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hand had to set the bottle he carried down, shaking too much to be sure he wouldn’t drop it. 
“Good boy.” Alastor finished his whiskey, “I’d hate to have to find a new bartender. Another, please and thank you. I’ve got some time to kill.”
⫘⫘⫘
“Luci?” You looked around the hall, wondering if perhaps someone else had come with him, “What’s up?”
He opened his arms, “That piece of shit said I could see you. Alone.”
Your smile fell, “Why would he do that?” Lucifer laughed, shrugging it off. 
“Maybe he knows he is no match for our connection.” His brows rose up and down his face.
“That….definitely isn’t it, Luci.”
He looked wounded, “May I still come in? If you want me, that is. Want me TO! Want me, to enter. Inside the room. Your room. Bedroom. This-.,” You opened the door the rest of the way and moved aside. 
“What exactly did Alastor say?” You sat on the small bench at the foot of your bed.
 The worry was visible on your face.
“Something about different appetites. Aaand I could come up before he came to bed. Oh, and that you were sad.” Lucifer set his hat on the dresser, resting the cane to the side. 
Those were true things. 
Yes, you had been sad. Moping just before Alastor left, come to think of it….was this a little gift? Why wouldn’t Alastor tell you beforehand? You rarely did anything without discussing it first. 
“Did you not want to see me?” Luci misread your face. 
“Oh! No!” 
He winced.
“No, I mean– no, I did not …not want to see you.” Fuck, his nervous energy was spreading. How did you ever manage a private conversation with him before? “I am very happy you’re here. I felt so bad, about earlier. Did I cause you any trouble with Charlie?”
Luci plopped down beside you, “Don’t be silly! She thinks we’re run of the mill pals!” A laugh, “I think.”
Your eyes searched the room. Alone together, in a truly private place. But again, you wanted to show Lucifer more than just your lust for him. You wanted to see him smile, to feel appreciated and seen. That was harder to do when in a dick fog. 
“Are you okay with starting with a cuddle this time, Luci?” Standing, you lowered the lights with the dial on the wall. “We can move past it if you’re feeling it. Or just enjoy being in each other’s company.”
“I love cuddling! I’m a pro at cuddling! Haha, yes. Totally okay.” He paused, “Why are you laughing?”
You pulled back the covers, getting into bed, “You’re so cute, your majesty.” He felt that stupid grin creep across his face, “Come to bed.”
With a puff of red smoke, he was in his boxers and scrambling to you. You tried to stifle another laugh, what a silly person the Devil was. “You could have done that every time?” You asked. He just nodded, hands coming around your body and pulling you close to him. “You’re so warm.”  Your nose brushed against his.
“Fires of hell and all that.” He kissed the tip of your nose, before lightly pressing his lips to your own. Another peck, his hands roaming up your hips and then your arms, then coming to your cheek. He pulled you closer now, deepening his once chaste kisses. 
Was this cuddling? You thought you had wanted to dote on him. But now it seemed you were the one being showered in adoration. He sighed into your mouth, and your mind went blank. Yes this was cuddling. This was anything he said he wanted it to be. 
Lips soft, mouth warm, tongue forked. His head tilted, desperate to get himself deeper into your mouth. You tasted like heaven, something he was too scared to miss. Tongue rolling over yours, you moaned into the kiss. Luci’s hands slid from your face to your hip, hand gripping you as he groaned in response. Hips slowly rolling into nothing, he tried to calm down. He finally had you all to himself, and his body reacted with an eagerness he had forgotten. Your own hands pushed gently against his chest, not to make distance, but to feel his body pressing up against your own skin. 
His lips parted yours, he went to speak but instead returned to kissing you. Leaving your lips and travelling down your neck, he found the will to talk, “Tonight, let me take the lead?” You nodded, wondering what his lead would look like. 
Alastor was always chasing something in you, feeding off more than your body. The few times he would want to go beyond just caressing, he would wring pleasure from you like a deserted man to an empty canteen. His body quaking with every drop he could manage. 
And Lucifer? Your already wet cunt clenched around nothing but possibilities. You nodded, watching a fire light behind his eyes you hadn’t seen in the bedroom before.
“I’m going to spoil you rotten.” His face was bright, both hands pulling your hips onto him as he rolled onto his back. “You don’t need these.” Clawed hands tugging at your panties beneath your open robe. 
Oh. That was quick.
As you leaned back to remove them, Lucifer’s mind was on timing. He could eat you out for hours if afforded it, but he knew Alastor would be coming in eventually. Lucifer had no intentions of sharing you tonight. 
When you sat down, his hands hooked under your thighs and pulled you up. And up. 
“Luci?”
“Let me show you how I ruined eden.” He opened his mouth, long tongue snaking out in a truely debauched display.  Your body was just near his chin now, and you were too stunned to move. His hands slapped your ass playfully, “Please take a seat, kitten. Your throne awaits.”
Would you suffocate him? Did he need breathe? Were you heavy? Shou-
“Pet.” His hands drummed on your thighs, “Just grab the headboard.”
Mortified. You placed your knees on either side of his head and gripped the headboard. You barely had a chance to lower yourself before he pulled you onto his mouth.
Hot breath. Luci had been dreaming of this for weeks, long before your initial invite. His tongue lapped up the slick from hole to clit, humming into your skin. Your thighs clenched and you had to focus to open them again. You apologized, but Luci just winked and made a show of taking two fingers and setting them on your thigh where he held you. 
You’d never done anything where you were the one on watch for the tap tap. It felt…. Good. Deep breath, relax into the system you made for each other.
His tongue dipped into your heat, you hadn’t considered the positive attributes of its length until now. Your hips rocked slowly, the feeling of his soft and determined tongue along you walls making your mind reel. How could something be so gentle but so ravaging? Had anyone’s tongue ever been so deep in you?
Resting your forehead on the headboard you watched Luci’s eyes close, his smile felt from thigh to thigh. Nowhere was Lucifer more in his element than mouth under a wet cunt. As your breath quickened so did your hips, grinding down more and more as you felt the pleasure spiking with every touch. 
Luci’s tongue left your now dripping hole to latch onto your clit. Sharp teeth pricked your skin as he began to suck, expert tongue intermittently lapping at your little bud of nerves. 
Your knuckles were turning white as you considered snapping the headboard in half in an attempt to chase the euphoria. It felt so good, but as the time was going forward you could tell it wasn’t enough to get you over that hurdle. 
Cold air rushed to your flushed skin, “What do you need, kitten?” Two large eyes, yellow and red, looked up from your lap.
“I want to feel you. Inside.” Your eyes flitted up as his mouth returned to his measured pace on your clit. Whimpering, you thought about reaching back and inserting your own fingers when you found your new friend beat you to it. His spaded tail folded in on itself and slipped past your twitching entrance.
You choked out a noise, the sensation something entirely foreign. Smooth and cold, he just needed to get the tip inside for you to start moaning in earnest. Your body was rocking between his tongue and his tail, shortening the intervals as you ramped up to your orgasm. 
His hands on your thighs tightened, clawed hands digging into your flesh. His moan made your feet cramp, legs now twitching. “Close— Luci!” Talking felt like losing your place, but the way he moaned in response egged you on, “Luci! Please don’t sto-,” your abdomen tight, body locked as it edged to that peak, your pleas to not stop devolved into whispered a, “no no no no god no” into the wooden bed frame.
Lucifer’s hands snaked up your sides, holding onto your waist he pulled your full weight down into his mouth, tail twisting as it thrust in and out of you. Just deep enough that the large edge of the spade was spreading your lips with every movement. 
Eyes closed, your body shook violently over his face as you finally broke through, orgasm flooding your system with endorphins. Feet, legs,  stomach, hands, everything loosened. Luci’s tongue stopped, tail slipping out. 
You didn’t make a move, needing a second to just bask in the feeling.
Before it fully waned, Luci’s arms came up and over your thighs before he pushed your body toward his chest. And then you felt yourself falling backwards.
He’d pushed himself off the bed and flipped you so quickly you hadn’t even seen it happen. Vision adjusting you saw his yellow eyes now red, red and black horns sprouted from his forehead.
“Open up for Daddy, kitten.” He was fully buried in your softened pussy before you could form a thought. Your body hadn’t forgotten his size, but you still felt a burning at your entrance where the skin struggled to stretch for him. Luci’s body fell onto yours, his hands bringing your legs up past his hips and behind his back. You hooked your feet together around his waist and held on with both arms, eyes rolling back with every thrust.
“You feel so good, you’re so tight,” he moaned directly into your ear. Bodies tightly pressed together, an embrace where only his hips would leave your skin and just long enough to piston back into you. Your legs were so far up that your hips weren’t on the bed anymore. The angle made your head fall back, muscles unable to receive signals from your bliss addled brain. His arms were under yours, resting beneath your back and on your shoulders, pulling you tighter into to him. You felt surrounded by him, every part of your body touching his. A tangle of flesh and whimpers. “You’re so beautiful, kitten. You take daddy’s cock so well. I’m melting.” His horns brushed against your head, the sound of them slipping across the comforter with every thrust reminding you of their presence.
Lucifer felt lost in you. He fought to keep his mind clear enough to ensure his embrace stayed gentle. You were a bundle of softness and heat under him. He felt his balls creeping up, tightening as he was ready to chase your own orgasm with his. For a second his eyes searched the immediate area for Alastor. The word “cum” ringing in his ears.
With a sigh, hot and heavy at your neck, he pressed into you as far as his body could enter. As you could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, your cunt began to spasm around him. Body instinctively hungry for him. His hands hooked under your shoulders held you still, your legs still tight around his waist.
You stayed there until you both were breathing normally. Your legs fell down, thighs falling open as you released your grip on him. Luci didn’t move for another minute, opting to rest his head in your chest. Silence, just the gently rolling waves of soft pleasure and contentment still coming.
Satiated, you suddenly felt so drowsy. “Luci.”
His head popped up, horns gone and sclera back to yellow, “Yes, kitten?”
“Blankets.” You let your eyes closed, feeling the comforter being pulled to you.
Alastor walked in to find you both asleep, Lucifer still on top of you, heads at the foot of the bed and feet on the pillows. The comforter half assed folded over your bodies.
He wasn’t surprised. Alastor peeled Luci off of you and tossed him onto the pillows. 
“Fuck you, hair cut,” Lucifer whispered, between awake and asleep.
“Yes yes, your majesty. Fuck you too.” Alastor picked you up and set you where you belonged. He pulled the blankets over you both, taking a beat to stare down at the scene.
Beloved, happily asleep. Obnoxious monarch, looking angelic beside you. Lucifer looked so much more tolerable when sleeping.
He considered for a moment returning to his own room, as he had planned all along. Looking from you to Lucifer, he felt something swell in his chest. 
Keeping you was a treasure. A treasure he trusted would always be his. But to have you and the king of hell? Not just influence by way of your ties to Lucifer? Well, that could bring power.
His mother always recommended containment for mint, Alastor pulling too many and not allowing for them to enjoy the benefits of their hard work for very long. Containment, he considered, locking the bedroom door and taking his place beside you.
⫘⫘⫘
When there was a knock in the morning all three of you popped up from the pillows.
“Who the hell is that? It’s so early…” your eyes struggled to focus on the clock.
“Fffuck,” Alastor held his face in his hands. “I forgot I-,”
“Hello?” Charlie said into the door.
You and Lucifer slowly turned to stare at Alastor, a thin smile from ear to ear on his face.
“Alastor asked me to wake you up. So you wouldn’t miss the planning meeting.”
“Can’t a demon be a little chaotic now and then?” Alastor mused, your eyes boring holes into his skull. 
The doorknob rattled, “Oh… He said it would be open. Well, okay… I guess I’ll let you sleep! Maybe next week!”
As Charlie made her way down the hall she just missed the sound of furniture moving and a thud as Lucifer tackled Alastor out of the bed and onto the floor, hands on his throat. 
This was going to be a problem.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
1K notes · View notes
deadghosy · 2 months
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THIS DUO AS CAT!READER X LUCIFER!
prompt: a sinner comes into the hotel not expecting to gain a friend so quickly because of their personality.
Note: you can be like a humanoid cat or just a normal sinner with cat ears and tail.
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This man fell in love so fucking QUICKKK
He loves you as you first came or when he first met you in the hotel! Like literally this man after petting KeeKee, wanted to pet you next as your fluffy cat ears flicker at his dumb stare at you. You scoffed and went to husk to who gave you a shot a whiskey before hand.
Now after he started living in the hotel, you better be prepared to have this man clinging to you. It’s like if he is the cat instead of you being the cat in this troupe. Literally Lucifer will always be beside you smiling as he tries to pet you. You just use your hand to smack it away quickly with your reflexes.
How dare he even pet you like a cat and you purr uncontrollably on his lap. 😭💗
I can see you just literally clawing the ceiling because Lucifer tried to spray you with water and you were actually acting demonic as fuck😭 pure red eyes and loud raspy hissing.
If you are shorter than Lucifer, he is most definitely picking you up like a baby, doll, pet, you name it. He dead ass would try to flirt with you or just want you to praise his duck making and his building skills. Would wrap his arm(s) around your waist while you bear your teeth at him. Yeah you scratched him, but it’s definitely your love language! 😍 Lucifer had heart eyes as you were forced to tend to the scratches you gave him. Bros whipped, I mean he loves cat, you’re basically like a cat. You two are a match made in hell🤭.
If you are taller than Lucifer, you better pamper him. Cause you being taller makes him feel more attractive to you as he definitely has a thing for taller things. He probably will fly up to your face to get you’re attention, he’s like a love starving puppy wanting to get your longing attention as you are just a cat who has a bitch attitude towards love things. Literally one time you put your foot paw/foot to his damn face as he was trying to pet you. This man will never get tired of your attitude towards him. You probably do pick him up by his coat like a damn kitten with your hand as you stare tired from hearing his yapping.
Imagine how you literally run like a cat because you are faster on all fours so Lucifer will get on your back sometimes for fun and literally holds on tight cause you weren’t playing about being fast as fuck.
Headcannon on you shedding from your tail and Lucifer would happily clean it up so you won’t get scowled. He loves treating you like a baby, but he is the baby.
Back when you were alive, you were homeless. So that made you have a rough cattish look in hell, like a stray cat. But all you knew was how to street fight. Not a professional fighting way. So imagine you fighting some type of hotel guest and they were piss off at how you basically gave them a “dirty look.” They gave you a swing and BOOM BOOM BOOM! You gave that hoe a three piece combo to the face. Literally there was people screaming shocked and people hyping you up. You didn’t hit them as they hit the ground not getting up. But you most definitely dragged that person out by their shirt.
You had one time actually roundhouse kicked Lucifer on accident because it was dark in your room and he wanted to wake you up. Never in Lucifer’s life has he gotten his ass kicked by a sinner before.
I imagine Lucifer gifting you rubber ducks and you just smile a little liking how you are being loved but your heart closed as you think he is just playing with you.
You literally jumped and stretched around the rooftops as Lucifer flies above you finding you amazing. You are like hell hound but a feline as your body is easy to stretch and how you are so flexible.
I headcannon you actually curled your tail would Lucifer’s wrist or waist as Lucifer was going crazy in his head. Like bouncing around mentally as he just looks so calm outside
Imagine how Lucifer found it hot when you cornered him when he annoyed you to the point you pinned him to the wall with a scary expression.
I can see you sometimes just staying silent, scowling people as Lucifer just smiles.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Black Cat!Wanderer, who you find in an alleyway behind your apartment complex, badly bruised and barely conscious. He's poorly dressed, even for a hybrid, shivering and deathly pale, but he still finds the strength to snap at you as you approach him. You have to bribe him with fish you can't afford and a blanket nicer than anything you'd buy for yourself before he lets you so much as touch him, and even then, he's quick to growl and tell you to get away from him as soon as you try to pet him. He's a temperamental kitten, but considering the state he's in, you can't say you blame him for being so defensive.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who lets himself into your apartment after a few weeks of alleyway visits and offered meals. He doesn't scratch at your door or ask to come in. You find him splayed out on your couch when you get home, muttering that it'd been too long since the last time he saw you and scowling into a clawed-up pillow. He still comes and goes as he pleases (you wouldn't try to keep a hybrid so clearly used to being on his own contained), but he spends most of his time curled up on your bed or trailing after you around the house, still pretending he'd rather be anywhere on earth other than in your lap. He says that you're just like every other human, that he only hangs around you for the food and a warm place to sleep, but the way he purrs when you scratch at his ears says otherwise.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't just visit you at home, either. He always seemed to ""coincidentally"" be passing by your office just in time to walk you home from work, and doesn't seem to consider a quick grocery run or shopping trip to be a good enough excuse to get rid of him. You're lucky he's a cat, rather than something bigger, something more difficult to pass off whenever he follows you into a cafe or bodega. He's lucky that he's so cute, or else you might call his bluff and start treating him like the housecat he won't admit he wants to be.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't know that you know he likes to cuddle up to you while you're asleep. Most of the time, he'll wait until you go to bed properly before curling up against your side, but you've found him laid out on top of you after passing out on your tiny couch, fast asleep despite his best efforts to always scurry away before you notice he's there. You never considered yourself a catperson before you met him, but god, sometimes you feel like you could spend the rest of your life fawning over your shy little alley cat.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who's been with you long enough to be hyper-aware that there are people - humans, nonetheless - you'd rather spend time with than him. He doesn't need your attention, he doesn't need you, but he's not going to lose you to a human, either - not when you're the only person he can stand to be around.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who might just be a cat but still has teeth and claws as sharp as any predator. Following the coworker you've mentioned just a few too many times home is child's play, and it only takes a few seconds to drag his claws across their throat, to dig his teeth into their jugular and shut them up before they can scream. It's just like killing a rat, something you've praised him for a thousand times, even if he still cringes when the taste of iron hits his tongue.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who spent enough time as a stray to know the best places to put something he doesn't want anyone else to find. The body is dropped into a gutter with a loose grate, the blood washed off of his face in a relatively clean drainage canal. He's home by sunrise, and he can't control the way his chest rumbles as he slots himself against your side - happier than he's ever been before.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who'd do anything to make himself the center of your little world.
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chiliyue-archived · 11 months
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Addicted to...
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Includes; Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Atsushi, Kunikida, Fyodor, Nikolai, Akutagawa, Tetchō, Jonō
Tags; SMUT/NSFW, fem!reader. Oral(recieving), biting, rough and soft sex
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Dazai is addicted to the sweet taste of your cunt. His teeth are sucking, biting hard at your bare core, a dozen cresent moons along your plush thighs as he pulls you closer. He just keeps pulling orgams after another, words dripping of faux promises of 'one more.' But he's too addicted to your taste; his tongue is already making teasing kitten licks before treating it as though it's his last meal.
Chūya is addicted to the way you shiver. His fingers are ghostly upon your skin, caged by those gloves of his. Each feathery touch envoke a gasp of surprise from your lips, body slightly trembling as he pinched and kneaded your flesh with care yet greedy intentions. He adores the way you're quivering, becoming increasingly aroused with just a couple touches to your clit, chest and bare skin- foreshadowing of what's to come.
Ranpo is addicted to your thighs, his hands greedy, resolved on kneading the skin and seeing small blooming petals in its trace. Your thighs straddle his lap so perfectly, caging him as he encourages you to bounce on his dick again and again. He can't help but pull on the flesh as you lose yourself to your high, the tips of his nails slightly clawing into the soft skin, all the while he bucks into you, sending a shock of pleasure down your shine.
Atsushi is addicted to the warmth of your walls. He can't express it, but he's so desperate to be inside you :( You clench around him so nicly, making him feel so so so good. He swears he's on cloud nine the moment he slips his cock in your gummy walls before rutting into you in a sloppy pace. You give off so much warmth, and he's groaning out with each thrust. He's so utterly in love with every little thing about you, including but limited to your cunt that sucks him right in with every thrust.
Kunikida is addicted to making you feel good. His chest is utterly filled with so much care and devotion to you. In the heat of the moment, all he can think about as pleasure rocks through his bones is your pleasure. He calls you his 'good girl' as you arch your back prettily for him, his hips still thrusting into you sensually. His voice is dripping with praise as he becomes undone within the comforts of your walls, his cum spilling into you as his lips brush against yours. So long as you feel good, then so does he.
Fyodor is addicted to making you dumb on his cock. If you aren't sobbing, mind too dazed and numb to recognize anything but the way the head of his dick brushed against your abused sweet spot, then he isn't satisfied. You're his beloved angel, but sometimes he wants to see you break. He doesn't mind keeping you in that spot, pulling orgasm after another, watching you flinch at his touch as he continues to overstimulate you. It might be quite cruel of him, but it's an intoxicating sight to behold.
Nikolai is addicted to seeing his cum ooze out of your hole. It was such a lewd sight, which all the more became an addicting scene that burned itself into his head. Both his and your juices were dripping down your thighs, staining the sheets underneath. His fingers danced teasingly against your folds before thrusting it back into you, coaxing a weak whimper from your exhausted form. He chuckles teasingly against your skin, but he doesn't mind using his tongue to clean up the mess, having you tremble for just a little bit more.
Akutagawa is addicted to the feeling you envoke in him. So strange, what this circling warm feeling in his chest...? Love. Gross. Do it again. Your sweet kisses leave him chasing for another one, finggers threading away at your clothing. Your walls hug him nicely, his tip grazing your overstimulated nerves with ease. He would have originally scoffed at being so soft, but this was an interesting change admittly. Akutagawa, who is known for being a ruthless monster in Yokohama, was now squeezing your hand as pleasure pulsed through his body.
Tetchō is addicted to holding your hand tenderly. His movements are so sensual, particularly aimed for your own pleasure rather than his own. His cock filled you up so good, kissing your cervix with each precise thrust. One hand circled around your clit whilst his free was interlaced with yours. His thumb rubbed over the knuckles in a comforting manner as you sputter and whine from his movements. And as he approaches closer to his orgasm, he can't help give your hand a little squeeze as you clench around him tightly.
Jonō is addicted to your reactions. Whether its your shaking body under his teasing fingertips or feathery lips, your thumping heartbeat as he easily slides into you with a single motion, or when you chant his name as you became overwhelmed with pleasure- Jonō doesn't miss a single one. He knows precisely what to do to coax those reactions from you, be it by his tongue or fingers. Amongst such moments he wishes he could see your fucked out expression as he spears you into two with his cock, your heart beat echoing in his ear as he makes you cum.
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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saw ur monster 141 with pup reader (!!!!) and what about kitty reader who's just the softest, sleepiest, pliant little thing, who's breed is scottish fold so her little ears are flattened on her head - and she's so small, too :(
Cat reader!! yes!! Scottish fold monster breeds have a lot more problems than their cat versions have - weak spine and problems with walking are some of them, unfortunately. You are a lot sleepier than other hybrids, practically helpless in hunting and you don't even know how to play with your prey properly - as a show breed of a domestic cat, you can only lay down in your nest and purr for the amusement of other monsters. It doesn't free you from your breeding duties, however. Soap is, by far, the worst with you. Being a werewolf, he is your natural enemy - and he might mean well when he is dragging you out of your nest so you could run and play together, but you're too lazy and get tired too fast to actually enjoy playing with him...and of course, you simply hate hate hate his enthusiasm about everything!! Seriously, you need some time to recharge, how is this man even for real? He would bite you all the time, too, and you scratch him constantly, but it only makes him want you more( he will laugh and push his face to kiss and lick you all over, and it's so gross, you just can't stop cringing( Gaz is...nice. And you hate the he is nice because he makes it hard for you to hate him. Like many cats, you don't really enjoy bathing yourself. You're doing just fine with occasional showers or licking yourself in your cat form, why would you need to take a bath every night or two?? Gaz is the only one who is capable of dragging you - Ghost could, too, but he doesn't want to waste time, so you're stuck with smiling Kyle and his enthusiasm of spreading various shower gels on your body, making you all soapy and smell like flowers( he is getting his fair share of scratches too, but if he manages to clean and play with your pussy properly, you might allow him to proceed with washing you... Ghost is a cat person, by all his heart. It's weird, to watch this big, shadowy man loom over you like you're his precious pet, but he just won't stop staring at you. It's weird and somewhat creepy, but you love receiving surprising head scratches or belly rubs. What you don't like, is when you want to capture him in belly trap with your claws, but he just disappears in a puff of shadow and escapes(( it's not fair!! Ghost allows you to scratch him, however, when he is feeling like it - after a really good sex, when you both are just laying in your ruined nest, he would push your mouth on his bicep and allows you to bite him and cover him in your marks - it will dissapear, of course, but you just look so cute, like a helpless angry kitten... Against all odds, Price is your favorite sleeping buddy. Why? Because of his body temperature, of course! Gaz is warm too, but he doesn't have this bear-type tummy on his chiseled abs for you to curl up, so you opt to sleep on Captain's chest or lap. Price always laughs when you find him in his office when you push yourself on his lap and lay your head against his warm, soft chest. He won't let you go during the night, letting you bask in his heat - you just look so precious all sleepy like this, and you meowl perfectly when he pushes his cock in your pussy, making you even warmer. You would purr in your sleep and he thinks it's just the most precious sound in the world.
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teatreeoilll · 1 month
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2006
“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”
“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”
“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.
Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”
“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”
“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”
“My room? Why not your room?”
“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”
“Yaga will kill us.”
Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”
“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”
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“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”
A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”
“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”
Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.
“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”
The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.
“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”
“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”
Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”
“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”
In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.
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“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”
“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”
The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.
“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.
“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”
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2017
“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”
“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.
“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.
“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”
“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”
“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”
Suguru. There’s a silence.
Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”
Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”
“Definitely not, Satoru.”
“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”
You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”
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