Brainrot Forever

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — TICCI TOBY

If there's one thing in life Toby never thought he'd experience, it's marriage. He's a wanted criminal, for one, so it's not like he'd ever be able to get married. But he just also never thought he'd fall in love. Sure, he dated Natalie for a few months but that wasn't anything real, and they'd both just been trying to cope with their own shit.

When he met you, it wasn't anything special. Love at first sight didn't happen, he wasn't drawn to you like a moth to a flame, and he barely even acknowledged your existence unless you two had to work together.

But the longer he spent time with you, the more his walls began to come down. For whatever reason, he found himself beginning to relax around you. He didn't force himself to be cool and edgy, and he didn't put up this asshole front to keep you away from him.

He could be himself around you, and he thinks that's when he started to fall in love. The way you got together wasn't even a confession. He'd gotten hurt on a mission, and even though he told you he couldn't feel the pain, you still treated his wounds so gently, insisting that he be more careful next time.

His blood had been staining your hands, and you were just so breathtaking. Toby didn't think, he just kissed you. And that kiss is was led to you two dating.

And, for a while, dating you was enough. He didn't think he wanted more. But then Natalie told him that Jane had gotten engaged, and for some reason, that struck a chord inside him.

Suddenly, whenever he wound up in a new town, he saw some kind of marriage related topic. A small town wedding happening beside the bar that Tim had dragged him to after a mission. Brian showing off the engagement ring he'd bought for his partner.

It was like the universe was pushing him in that direction, and he wanted to ignore it. He didn't want to risk ruining his perfect relationship with you. But the idea of you wearing an engagement ring just... it did things to him.

That's how he ends up enlisting Natalie's help to break into a jewelry store. It takes him almost thirty minutes just looking through all the rings, trying to find the perfect one that would match your style.

But it takes him almost three months to actually muster up the courage to propose. He spent days just practicing it with Natalie. He doesn't really think it did much to help, but he appreciated that she was willing to be there for him, at least.

You only realize somethings up when his tics begin to happen more frequently. He's nervous, and you can tell from the way he avoids your gaze and shies away from your touch.

"Toby, are you okay?" You ask, concern written all over your face. His hands are shaking as he digs for the little box in his pocket.

The poor guy can't even ask you to marry him. He's very certain that if he opens his mouth, he'll throw up. That's how nervous he was. But the ring is enough to get his point across.

You're definitely shocked, staring at it for a few moments before looking at your boyfriend, "...Are you asking me to marry you?"

"Yes." He manages to force out the word, nodding once. He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until you take the ring, a small smile on your face. He exhales, shoulders slumping, leaning against a tree as he presses a hand to his chest, hyperaware of his rapidly beating heart.

And when the two of you let the other proxies know that you're engaged, he's smiling brightly, his fingers intertwined with yours. It's the happiest they've ever seen him.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — HOMICIDAL LIU

Liu had always dreamed of a life where he would fall in love with someone, marry them, and start a family. When he was kid, that had honestly been the only thing he really wanted. He didn't have any dream job, he just... wanted a happy family.

Of course, after everything that happened, Liu knew that dream wasn't ever going to happen. He should just be happy that he's alive.

Meeting you was a blessing, really. You were his sanctuary. An angel sent from heaven. He thanks God every single day for bringing you into his life, because he can't imagine it without you.

It took him so long just to allow himself to love you. You could do so much better than him. He still thinks this, no matter how many times you tell him that there will never be 'better'. He'll be selfish and drink up everything you give him until you decide you don't want him anymore.

Marriage wasn't something he wanted to think about, not at first. When he thinks of his future, it usually involves his death.

He only thinks of it as a real possibility when you ask him if he'd ever be interested in getting married. The question had caught him off guard, and he just stared at you for a really long time before you laughed the question off and reassured him that it's okay if he didn't want to get married.

"Seriously, don't think too much about it. It's just a silly question. It's fine if you don't wanna marry me, I'm more than happy to just date you forever." You had said.

But Liu didn't stop thinking about it.

It stuck with him. Because... yeah... he did want to marry you. The realization was jarring. He'd been denying himself of picturing a future with you for so long, but now it's all he can think about. Even though he was legally classified as dead, and you guys would never be able to have a wedding, he still wanted to marry you.

He didn't have anyone to talk to this about, other than Sully. And Sully found the whole thing to be stupid, really, "Just propose or shut up."

And... well... that had been the push Liu needed, honestly.

Liu didn't have to buy a ring.

It's a little silly when he thinks about it, but back when he was a kid, his grandmother had given him her engagement ring that his grandfather has proposed with. She knew about his dream to start a family of his own, and she told him that when he finds his person, he could use her ring to propose.

Liu spent hours practicing in a mirror, coming up with the perfect speech to express how deeply he loved you, and how much you meant to him, and how happy he would be if you said yes.

But none of those words came out when the time came.

Instead of the speech he had planned out, he could only whisper a soft, "You are everything I need. Please, marry me."

And when you say yes, Liu cries. Years of pent up emotions came out in that moment, and he felt a bit pathetic, but you made him feel so much better as you slid the ring on your finger. The smile on your face was blinding.

Liu vows to love you for the rest of his life.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — ZERO

Marriage? Just the mere idea of it has her laughing.

In what world would she ever want to get married? It's a miracle that you were still alive, considering she murders everyone she comes across. She's not sure why she kept you around. She thinks it's because she finds your reactions to the murders she commits hilarious, but it's more than that.

You've tried running away from her numerous times, and instead of killing you and being done with it, she just drags you back.

And when you speak to anyone that isn't her, she's filled with this burning anger that she takes out on the next person she kills, threatening that you'll be next if you so much as flinch while watching.

You only start dating because she likes the idea of you being her partner. You never call her your girlfriend, and she's always the one who initiates physical contact. It's a completely one-sided relationship, one that isn't even built off love.

But Zero doesn't care. She doesn't want your love. She wants your obedience. If she manages to squeeze out a little affection from you during the process, then that's just a bonus.

That's... what she tells herself, at least.

Zero doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that she'd gotten truly attached to you. You've been by her side for so long that she's gotten used to you being around, and she can't really picture her life without you in it in some capacity.

It's something that greatly gets on her nerves when she thinks about it for too long.

Her proposal isn't something she gave much thought to. Or... any thought, for that matter. It had been spur of the moment. She'd broken into this home and killed the people living there. She picked the place apart, taking whatever she saw valuable that she could get good cash from.

And when she saw a pair of matching rings in the jewelry box in the bedroom, well... for some reason, she didn't even think about selling them. She just snatched them up and slid one on her finger before heading outside.

You were waiting for her, leaning against the hood of the car and keeping watch.

"Hey," She calls out. The moment you look her way, she's tossing you the ring. You nearly drop it, and cringe a bit at the blood on it smearing your hands.

"What's this?" You ask.

Zero shrugs, opening the driver door, "We're engaged now." She says.

"We're what?!"

And even though you claim to hate her guts, you wear the ring. She doesn't force you to. You like her more than you cared to admit, it would seem.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — JANE THE KILLER

Truly, Jane never thought she'd fall in love. After everything that's happened to her, her entire life revolved around murdering the man who ruined her life. She didn't think she'd have time to live, and never bothered to form any lasting relationships.

But somehow, you stuck around. Even when she tried pushing you away for the first few months of knowing you, you just... didn't leave. Your stubbornness was a trait she found to be annoying at first, though she's grateful for it now.

Dating you was easy, despite all her doubts. She'd disappear for periods of time, following a lead that might lead her to Jeff, before eventually returning to your side when it becomes a dead end. No matter how long she's away, you always wait for her.

You were her other half, genuinely. She doesn't believe in soulmates, or fate, or anything of the sort, but she truly believes that you were a part of her that she a missing.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. It's a realization she had late one night, after dropping by your place after yet another dead lead. She'd called you earlier that morning, telling you she'd be returning home that night. Jane has expected you to be asleep, but you had stayed awake waiting for her.

The two of you never brought up the possibility of marriage, so Jane was a bit nervous when she bought a ring. Natalie had to spend hours just hyping Jane up, reassuring her that you'll definitely say yes. Jane appreciated the effort, but it didn't make her any less nervous.

The night she proposed, Jane cooked a very nice dinner. She had planned on it being a surprise, but you came home early and insisted on helping her. Apparently, you'd planned on making her a nice dinner tonight as well. What a coincidence.

But the time you two spent making dinner definitely helped to calm her nerves. You were cracking jokes, and she was rolling her eyes and laughing. You always made everything so fun, and her heart was racing when it was finally time to bring the ring out.

"I, uhm, I had a lot of things I wanted to say, but... I think I might die if I don't just ask now, so," She pulls out the small, velvet box, opening it so you can see the ring she'd gotten, "Marry me?"

And Jane had been expecting two outcomes. Rejection, or acceptance. She was not expecting you to gasp, and pull out your own box with a ring.

"Oh my gosh, I was going to propose tonight, too!" You say, showing her the ring. And Jane... well... she just can't help but cry, honestly. She's just so in love with you that it's overwhelming.

She shows off the ring you got her to Natalie the following day, recounting the experience with a bright smile on her face. She's not sure she's ever been this happy before. Not in a long time, at least.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — ZALGO

Marriage wasn't an entirely foreign concept to Zalgo, but it's not something he's ever seriously considered. There are numerous people married to him, solely because he finds that marriage reinforces the control he has on his cults. They aren't genuine marriages, but if the humans want to believe they've married their god, then so be it.

It's not like he'd ever fall in love, so why would he ever consider marriage in a serious aspect? Well... then he met you.

To this day, he still doesn't quite understand how you managed to worm your way into his hearts. One moment, you were nothing more than a naïve, bright-eyed new member of one of his cults. Someone who hadn't quite been broken in yet.

And then the next moment, he was going out of his way to possess random people just so he could hold you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

There was just something about you that stuck with him. You get special treatment, because of his odd little fascination with you. He only spoke to you, and nobody else. This change had you anointed, essentially, as 'Zalgo's Chosen'. A title he deemed fitting for you, because he had chosen you.

The attention you got was a bit disturbing. You're not sure why Zalgo seems to like you so much, but it doesn't feel like you'd be able to just leave. You're not sure if you want to leave, to be honest. It's... scary, being loved by him, but at the same time, it was kind of nice.

Zalgo only starts to consider marriage when people start to approach you romantically. Not members of his cults, no, they're well aware to leave you be. But outsiders, on the rare occasions you go out. Those people have their souls devoured by the end of the day.

It's not a topic he ever discusses with you. He doesn't need to talk to you about it. You belong to him, so therefore, it's only natural that you two get married, no?

You're crying, trying to pull your hand away from him, but his grip is firm. He's as gentle as he can possibly be as he slowly cuts a line around your finger until it connects. It's not a ring, but it'll get the point across.

And if you'd like a ring in the future, then he'd be more than happy to fetch one for you.

"Shh, it's okay," He softly murmurs, the hands of his vessel pulling you into a gentle embrace when he's finished. You're shaking, and clinging to him as you cry. He could feel the confusion radiating off you, questions you didn't dare to ask out loud.

Carefully, he pulls back just a bit so he can meet your gaze, his hands coming up to gently wipe your tears, "This is a necessity, my sun." He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling just a bit at the way you lean into the touch.

"You understand that, correct?" He asks. You don't even hesitate as you nod.

You truly are perfect.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — HOODIE

Given Brian's... job, a relationship was already difficult enough. Slender did not like when its proxies got distracted, and it has gone out of its way to have things it deems as distractions eliminated.

But it's a good thing Brian doesn't care, right? Slender can't control him like it controls Toby, and Brian isn't scared of it the way Tim is. He certainly isn't devoted to Slender the way that Kate is, either. Brian does whatever the hell he wants, and Slender has no choice but to deal with it.

And dating you was one of the many things the entity puts up with. Your relationship with Brian doesn't get in the way of his work. If anything, he's more efficient at it because it means he gets to get back to you quicker.

You have no idea what he does for work, either. The one thing he agrees with Slender on. It's better this way. You don't deserve to see any of that bloodshed, and he just knows that if you ever found out, you'd leave him. And that's just not something he can let happen.

Brian isn't the one who thinks about marriage first. It's you.

You bring it up in conversation casually. He doesn't even remember what you two had been talking about, he just remembers you saying, "Well, when your my husband-" And his mind completely focuses in on that.

The mere thought of being your husband had his heart racing, and it was a little embarrassing.

"So, you wanna get married?" He had asked, a cheeky smile on his face when you stumble over your words, awkwardly trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. He lets you, but the conversation never leaves his head.

It takes months of saving up, but he buys a ring. Not just any ring, he makes sure he goes to your friends and family, and he asks them what ring you'd like best. Apparently, this is something you've spoken about a lot.

Brian proposes to you after taking you out on a date. It's nothing public, just a quiet place with a breathtaking view. It's a sweet moment, and you both end up crying.

But you say yes, and he's not sure anyone will ever be happier than he was in that moment.

Safe to say, the other proxies become sick of him rather quickly when he returns with a wide grin on his face.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — DR SMILEY

Never in Damien's existence did he ever think he'd end up in a relationship. Love isn't something he's sure he can even feel, not in the way that everyone else does. His relationship with you was nothing more than an experiment.

That's what he tells himself, at least. But the experiment is going on far longer than he intended, and he doesn't find himself growing bored any time soon.

Your reactions to everything he did is what kept his interest, he thinks. The way you'd tense up a bit when he got too close, and the way you'd get easily flustered when he's whisper in your ear and touch you despite your disdain. It was amusing, seeing you at war with yourself.

Marriage was a topic that he'd never given much thought to. People married the ones they loved, but it seemed like a pointless ritual. A flimsy sheet of paper that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

He never saw himself getting married, but for some odd reason, the idea lingered in the back of his mind. For months, he ignored it, just brushing it off as nothing more than curiosity, something he wanted to study to better understand humans.

But then he found himself thinking about marrying you, and that... that really wasn't the plan. It wasn't a bad thing, just incredibly unexpected. He doubts you'd agree to marry him. He's certain that you still think he plans to kill you once he gets bored, which... a valid fear, but an unneeded one.

Damien has no plans of murdering you, not anymore. He's... attached. Not entirely the true extent of his complicated emotions, but a simplification of it.

And when Damien just so happened to target a married couple (of which was total coincidence), well... it was simply a sign from the universe.

The rings were carefully extracted from the corpses, Damien taking great care to not get a single drop of blood on them.

The rings were, disturbingly enough, a perfect fit on both of your fingers. It would explain why Damien measured your finger a few weeks back, but that's nothing more than another coincidence.

Damien doesn't propose.

You wake up to the ring on your finger, and you're greeted with a sharp-toothed smile as he explains that, from now on, he's your husband, and you're his spouse. It's something you'll struggle to get used to, and you might even try running away again, but Damien is a patient man.

You'll learn to accept this change.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — JUDGE ANGELS

Dina had spent her entire life wondering if she'd ever be able to fall in love. Silly daydreams about meeting her knight in shining armor, and being taken away to some place far far away where only she and her love would be.

They were nothing more than fantasies, ones that she knew would never truly happen. Romance wasn't in her cards, and that's something that saddened her, but something she accepted nonetheless. At least, until she met you.

Loving you was easy. You were so kind to her, and that kindness is what had her falling for you. Truthfully, Dina was more than content with loving you from afar. She never expected you to reciprocate her feelings, and she definitely wasn't expecting you to ask her out.

Dating you was a dream come true, really, and she couldn't ask for anything more. She could die right now, and she'd die feeling fulfilled.

But that didn't stop her from dreaming. Dina was satisfied with just dating you, don't get her wrong, but... sometimes, she'll see ads for wedding dresses, or rings. She'll watch a movie, and there will be a proposal.

You've never spoken about marriage before, and she's not sure if it's something you'd ever want to do. Hell, she can't really... get married. She's not entirely sure if she's wanted by the police, but she also didn't want to take any risks.

She'd been meaning to ask you about your thoughts on marriage for a while now. Her nerves always had her backing out before she could though, even though she didn't care whether you wanted to marry her or not.

Dina doesn't remember where she got the ring from. It's a ring she's always had, and she thinks that maybe it had belonged to her mother, or even her grandmother. She's not too sure, but she found herself reaching for it, one evening.

"...Would you ever be interested in getting married?" She had asked, her hands shaking as she stared at the silver band held gently between her fingers. The movie the two of you had been watching filled the silence, but she swears the only thing she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her chest.

When you take too long to answer, Dina had tried to brush it off. She stumbled over her words, laughing awkwardly, making some comment about the movie. You knew better than to just let the topic change, though.

"Dina, do you want to marry me?" You had asked. All she could muster was a quiet 'yes, more than anything,' as you gently directed her gaze to you. There's this small smile on your face, and her heart melts when you nod, "Then let's get married."

The ring fit your finger perfectly. Dina truly believes that the two of you were fated to be together.

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺ — NATHAN THE NOBODY

Honestly, Nathan never even saw himself getting in a relationship with anyone. He was so set on finding his sister, on murdering the people who took her and bringing her home that silly things like romance was meaningless.

It was a miracle that he'd even met you, saving your life from someone who had tried kidnapping you. Nothing was meant to come from that minor interaction, but he ended up walking you home that night because of how terrified you were, and...

For some reason, he stuck around. He told himself it was just until you got over the incident, until you felt safe enough to walk around outside without looking over your shoulder every few seconds.

He hadn't planned on getting attached, but he couldn't stop himself from falling for you. The guilt of falling in love ate him alive for a while, and it took him months just to accept that yes, he very much does love you. But after getting over that hurdle, it was... easy, dating you.

You were like an angel. A light in the dark, one that he was drawn to like a moth to a flame. You waited for him, even when he spent months away. You were, in short, his home.

So when Nathan found himself staring too long at some jewelry store in some random small town, he knew he was doomed.

The thought of marriage was one he'd never thought about... ever. Crystal had told him over and over again that he couldn't get married unless she planned the wedding for him. Something about how she didn't trust him to take it seriously, or whatever.

But god, the thought of marrying you... it had his heart racing, and he doesn't even remember buying the ring, just that it weighed heavy in his pocket the next time he dropped by your place.

Nathan doesn't propose in the traditional way. There is no question, he doesn't get down on a knee. He just pulls the ring out of his pocket and hands it to you, "...It's yours, if you want it." He murmurs, pointedly avoiding your gaze. It's okay if you don't take the ring, he really didn't plan for any of this to happen.

But you do take it. You take it, and you put it on. It's just a bit tight on your finger, but nothing that can't be adjusted. And Nathan... he hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

A wedding isn't something that will happen until he finds his sister, a fact that he makes very clear and one that you understand. He doesn't want to have one without his sister there.

GRACE ASHCROFT post-canon, are you married? are you just dating? who knows, workaholic grace, aeon mentioned.

Working in the FBI, you knew that date nights were going to be practically impossible. You'd accepted that fact, making plans with Grace when you both had time off. Though, your girlfriend was a bit of a workaholic, always glued to her laptop and doing stuff even when it's supposed to be her day off.

It was charming, and you were more than happy to just lounge in bed all day with her while she worked. It wasn't your typical romantic date, but you were okay with it.

And then she came home with a child. You do not know where this child came from, but her name was Emily, and Grace insisted that you guys adopt her. Emily seemed sweet, and you had such a hard time telling Grace no.

With a daughter, date nights became nonexistent. It's not Emily's fault, and it's not Grace's fault, either.

It just naturally came to be that way, with Emily eager to be included in everything the two of you did. She struggled to make friends, and you didn't want her feeling left out just because you wanted to spend time with your... girlfriend? Wife? You're not entirely sure what you guys are, actually.

Besides, Emily was a delight to be around. She brought a new life to your relationship with Grace, and you'd really started to feel like a family.

But Emily was very much aware of how you wanted to spend a little alone time with Grace. She knows you would never exclude her, which is why she suddenly asked if she could stay with Leon for the weekend.

"He's all sad and mopey because Ada is busy with work, so I'm gonna have him take me to the amusement park and force him to have fun." She had said, a sheer look of determination on her face, "So you gotta make sure mom has fun, too."

You make a mental note to buy her those books she'd been saving up for with her allowance.

With your daughter away for the weekend, the only thing you had to worry about was getting Grace away from work long enough to actually go on a date. You'd thought it'd be a bit difficult, but turns out all you had to do was tell her you wanted to take her out on a date and she was suddenly putting her laptop away.

It wasn't anything fancy like dinner at a nice restaurant or some kind of amusement park. Just a simple walk in the local park, and some ice cream from the new shop that opened in town.

But god, it's the best date you've ever been on.

THE TRICKSTER pre-fog, songwriter!reader, jiwoon mildly slanders yunjin im so sorry, mentions of murder,

Dating Jiwoon was really odd. Your relationship wasn't publicly announced, but neither of you ever bothered hiding it, either. Jiwoon loved showing you off, always including you in posts on his socials, mentioning times you two have spent together in interviews...

Most of the attention that came from dating Jiwoon was surprisingly positive.

His fans seemed happy that he found someone, with many of them gushing over the photos that he posts. There are some who send death threats, and some who try to slander your name in any way they can but... you try your best to ignore those types of people. They're just a loud minority, and you've noticed that they tend to disappear of the internet for whatever reason.

The only issue with your relationship was... well, the lack of time you actually get to spend with him. Sure, you got to work with him, being a songwriter and all, but that wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to go out with him, to talk to him outside of song making.

And with him being an idol, that was far easier said than done. If he wasn't in the studio making music, he was off performing, or hosting some variety show, or going out in the dead of night to practice. You knew that spending time together would be difficult, and you were ready to put effort into making things work, but god... it still sucks.

The last date you went on was shortly before the new year, and it had been cut short because some of his fans spotted the two of you and it caused this whole commotion.

You'd honestly come to accept that you probably won't be going on a date with him again until the holidays, so you were a bit surprised when Jiwoon showed up at your place in the middle of the day.

He's supposed to be working, you were well aware of that. Yunjin had even sent you a text telling you to send him off if he showed up at your place, talking about how he needed to be focused on his next comeback.

"Yunjin needs to get a life," Jiwoon had mumbled during the drive to the restaurant he'd apparently booked. You're not entirely sure why Jiwoon hates Yunjin so much, considering she's the one who made him an idol, but... you think it's best to not ask.

Instead, you're going to focus on the fact that Jiwoon had planned a surprise lunch date. It gets your heart racing, knowing that he seemingly missed you as much as you missed him.

"You could've waited until you finished the album, y'know," You comment, absently staring at the way your fingers are interlocked with his before glancing out the window of the car.

His face scrunches up a bit, like the mere idea of waiting got on his nerves, "If I wait another day to spend time with you, I'll kill someone."

You're fairly certain that's a joke, even though he's always so serious when he says it. He makes comments like that often, so you have to assume he's just got a morbid sense of humor.

"Mm, that would be awful," You hum, a small smile on your face, "Guess I gotta stick by your side to make sure that doesn't happen."

And there's this small smile on Jiwoon's face at your words.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE canon, very clingy brahms, maybe ooc?? i havent watched the movie in a few years.

Given the fact that you lived with Brahms' fulltime, you wouldn't think it'd be difficult to spend time with him. Brahms thinks so too, expecting to be able to cling to your side all day.

But you're the only person in the home to take care of everything. He refuses to let anyone else even get near, except for the guy who delivers groceries. And even he's on thin ice, with the way he boldly flirts with you.

Your days are busy taking care of the home. You make breakfast for both you and Brahms, and then spend a good portion of your day just cleaning the place up. You dust, you empty out traps, you've even taken to tending to the bushes and garden because they've gotten a bit out of hand.

By the time you actually have time to spare, it's basically the end of the day and you just make him dinner and send him off to bed with a quick kiss. Brahms hates it. He hates how you're depriving him of your attention.

You wake up early in the morning to the borderline suffocating feeling of arms tightly wrapped around you, keeping you pressed up against Brahms. His face is buried in your shoulder, his fingers digging into your skin like he's terrified you'll disappear if he loosens his grip.

This isn't the first time you've woken up to him in your bed, and you seriously doubt it'll be the last.

"Brahms," Your murmur, voice thick with sleep as you run your fingers through his hair, hoping it'll wake him up, "C'mon, baby, you gotta let me go."

Brahms just clings to you harder, if that's even possible. He presses himself against you until you're not entirely sure where you end and he begins, keeping you trapped against him as he murmurs quietly against your skin, "No."

His voice lacked the usual child-like pitch, just a deep rumble as he clings to you. You can't help but sigh just a bit. It's not like you had a lot of stuff planned today. Maybe a quick check around the place to make sure it was clean, and to check the rat traps. You couldn't do anything stuck in bed like this, though.

"Brahms," You repeat, tone taking on a bit of a firm note, hoping that maybe he'll let you go.

But the man was stubborn, and there's no way he was going to let you go. You've deprived him of your attention for days, and he's just taking what you owe him. Just shut up and deal with it.

So for the first few hours of the day, you were trapped in bed. He only lets you out when you start complaining about being hungry, but even then he's clinging to you in the kitchen. He's not going to give you a single chance to slip away from him, no matter how hard you might try.

SEPHIROTH pre-crisis with some vague canon, secret relationships, zack fair is the wingman of all time.

You'd always expected that dating Sephiroth would be difficult. He was Midgar's most wanted bachelor, and you doubt Shinra would ever let that man date anybody, not when they made money off of the idea of being able to date him.

You never thought you'd be the one to end up dating Sephiroth. An odd occurrence of coincidences led to your relationship with the man, and you both thought it would be best to keep it a secret. Nobody knows, except for one single man.

Zack Fair. And the only reason Zack knew is because he put context clues together. Context clues that nobody else has noticed, thankfully. Not even Genesis has noticed, which is just a little shocking.

Going on dates with Sephiroth was, unfortunately, impossible. He's the most recognized man on the planet, and disguising him was pointless because there's always one person who manages to see through it. The risk of being recognized stressed him out, and he hated the attention he got, so you just... never went out on dates.

It's something you would love to do, really, but at the end of the day, you're just happy to be able to date the man. Spending time with him, even if it's just sneaking quick kisses in the empty staircase of Shinra HQ, was more than enough for you.

Zack thought differently. He saw the way you and Sephiroth would stare at each other, and he just knew you two needed some alone time. It's how he ended up cooking up a plan. That plan involved hunting down a small restaurant, one that not many people know about.

And then he had to swear the owners of the place to secrecy, going as far as to promise to work there for the remainder of the year to bring some attention to the place. When he secured the restaurant, he then came up with different plans to keep Angeal and Genesis busy so they wouldn't question why Sephiroth wasn't around.

When everything was perfect, he cornered you, and told you that you and Sephiroth were going out on a date. You could barely get a word in before he was dragging you along. One minute, you were in Shinra HQ. The next, you and your boyfriend had miraculously ended up in a cozy restaurant without anyone noticing.

You don't know how Zack did all of this. You don't know why he'd go out of his way to do this, but you're incredibly grateful.

Sephiroth, though a bit awkward, was just as happy to be on this date with you. There's this small smile on his face as he speaks to you, his gaze never once straying from you for too long. You were the center of the universe, and he'd been dreaming about going on a date with you like this since you first started dating.

It wobbled, catching on an ashtray on the edge of the space, before it slowed from one face, to another, then—

Jack.

You would’ve thought a gaggle of crows had just found their way into the living room at the sound that erupted from the corner of the room.

Natalie and Toby lost it.

Natalie slapped the back of Jack’s head with a loud smack while Toby howled, kicking his leg higher over Jack’s thigh as if he needed the extra support to keep from falling over laughing. Jack didn’t look the least bit impressed. He sat there between them on the loveseat pushed into the corner, his absent sockets pointed blankly at the bottle, its tip completely motionless and aimed right at him.

You felt a pit form deep in your stomach.

Being locked in a closet with the resident cannibal suddenly felt a lot less like a fun party game and a lot more like a very bad idea.

People started whooping and cheering, especially Toby and Natalie, who were still losing their minds. Jack slowly stood up, shrugging both of them off like they weighed nothing. They tumbled dramatically into the arms of the loveseat, still cracking up and clutching their ribs as they reached for each other.

“Good luck, big guy,” Natalie wheezed, wiping tears from her good eye. “You’re gonna die in there.”

Toby pointed at you with one shaky hand, laughing so hard he could hardly sit up right. “Don’t let him eat you!”

You glanced around the room, hoping for even a scrap of mercy, but everyone else was either grimacing in sympathy or grinning like this was the funniest thing they’d seen all night. Jeff and Ben looked especially pleased with themselves.

Jack rounded the coffee table without so much as a word. His tall frame cast a long shadow over you as he came to a stop right in front, staring down with his blank gaze. The black voids of his eyes seemed to swallow the light from the lights overhead. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Until, “C’mon.”

You nodded quickly and pushed yourself up from the floor, legs a little unsteady. Jack turned without another word and started down the hallway. You followed a few steps behind him, fingers picking nervously at the hem of your shirt. The moment you left the living room, you heard Jeff yell over the noise, “Ben. Music.”

The music rushed in seconds later—loud, gritty rock blasting through the busted speakers twice as loud as before, the bass rattling the old floorboards under your feet.

The walk down the hall felt longer than it should have. Jack’s broad shoulders took up most of the space, his steps quiet and even like a cat. When he reached the closet door, he opened it and stepped aside.

You stopped a few feet away, looking up at him. The overhead light in the hallway cast strange shadows over his face, making the black eyesockets look even deeper.

Jack gave a nod toward the inside of the closet. One of his ears twitched against his head as he spoke, “After you.”

You swallowed, nodded back, and stepped past him. Reaching up, you tugged the pull chain. The bare bulb clicked on overhead with a hum, washing the small space in weak yellow light.

It was smaller than you remembered. Way smaller. The coats hanging on the rod ruffled against your shoulders as soon as you stepped in, and the stacks of old boxes and junk left barely enough room to stand.

Behind you, Jack had to duck. He placed one large hand on the top of the doorframe and bent down to fit through, his frame nearly filling the entire doorway before he stepped fully inside. The door pulled shut behind him.

The music outside dulled to a rumbling, muffled thump.

Now it was just the two of you.

The closet felt even tighter with Jack in it. He had to keep his head slightly lowered so it wouldn’t hit the hanging rod, his shoulders almost touching both walls. You stood with your side pressed against the coats and your back shoved against the wall, your heart beating fast as you looked up at him.

He was tall—always had been—but in the cramped little closet he seemed enormous. The light overhead cast a sickly yellow glow over him, highlighting every unsettling detail. His muted gray skin, almost ashen in places, stretched tight over sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. Pointed ears poked up through messy dark hair, occasionally flicking and twitching once he straightened as much as the low ceiling would allow. You’d occasionally catch the gleam of his sharp teeth between his lips or the flash of his claws when he moved.

He looked… bigger in here. Like the walls had shrunk just to make him seem more imposing.

And then there were his eyes.

Or rather, the places where his eyes should have been. Nothing but deep, endless black voids stared back at you. In the dim light, they looked infinite—like if you leaned in too close, you might fall forever into that darkness and never get out. It was unnerving. And strangely hard to look away from. Like all the awe and horror of a black hole swallowing a planet.

He was dressed simply in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized blue shirt that still somehow looked tight across his broad shoulders and chest. You think he tried to dress as normally as possible to offset everything else that was jarring about him… or maybe this was just all that fit his size.

You swallowed, pressing your back a little more into the adjacent wall.

“…Are you comfortable?” You fished for something to talk about.

Jack grunted, “Mhm.”

That was it.

You racked your brain for something—anything—to say, your fingers twisting together nervously.

“So… uh, how’s your night been going?” you tried.

“Fun.”

You nodded awkwardly. “The party got pretty wild after that fight, huh?”

He gave a nod.

You waited. Nothing else came. You think you could die.

You tried once more, voice a little more chipper. “You, um… you like playing these kinds of parties usually, or…?”

“Sure.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh and looked down at your hands. Talking to Jack had never been easy, but this felt like pulling teeth. The seven minutes had barely started, and the silence already felt suffocating. Jack remained perfectly still, towering over you, content to simply exist while you slowly unraveled under the weight of this encounter.

“So… what have you—”

“Calm down,” Jack cut in.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He let out a chuckle, the sound surprisingly warm. “Your heartbeat. It’s pounding so loud it’s giving me a headache. It’s gonna explode if you keep that up.”

Your face burned. You pressed a hand to your chest without thinking, feeling the frantic thud against your palm. The embarrassment made it worse.

“I—I can’t just make it stop,” you sounded exasperated.

“Yes, you can,” Jack replied simply. “You’re just not trying.”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a short laugh. “Fuck off. Quit with the weird body shit.”

Jack tilted his head, looking at your sideways. Then, in a dry, surprisingly sarcastic tone, he said, “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize the doctor had to cut it with the ‘weird body shit.’ How many times have you come down to my room after a mission asking for painkillers again? Oh yeah… a lot.”

You stared at him, genuinely surprised. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

“Wait… was that sarcasm? From you?”

Jack’s shoulders moved in a small shrug, the corners of his mouth pushing up just a bit.

“I have layers,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t know you could be funny.”

Jack hummed. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

You shrug, picking at your fingers as you looked at the ground. “Maybe it’s because you’re always so quiet. People can get intimidated.”

“People are usually scared of me. Easier to stay quiet.”

The words were simple, matter-of-fact, but they landed with a strange weight in your chest that made you look back up at him.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said after a beat. It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled.

You laughed despite yourself, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “Okay, maybe a little. But not… not like that. Not the way people usually are.”

He didn’t respond right away. The music outside pulsed dully through the walls, the bass vibrating faintly under your feet. Jack shifted his stance, trying to get a little more comfortable in the tiny space, and ended up closer to you than before. The warmth coming off him was noticeable.

“You’re shaking a bit,” he said quietly.

You hadn’t even noticed. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to play it off. “It’s cold in here.” But that was a lie. If anything, it was just below sweltering.

“Semantics.” Jack hummed, clearly not believing you. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the wall, giving you a little more room—or at least trying to.

It got quiet again.

For nearly a full minute, the only sounds were the muffled thump of music outside and the occasional creak of the old floorboards whenever one of you shifted. Your mind wandered to the living room—wondering what kind of shit was unfolding now, who was winning at whatever stupid game they’d moved on to, whether Toby and Natalie were still laughing their heads off about you and Jack being stuck in here together or if someone else had voiced their opinions on it.

Then Jack spoke very matter-of-factly. “See? There it goes.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your heart,” he said. “It’s calm now. You did it.”

You let out a small breath, almost laughing. “Ah… I didn’t really try to do it, though. It just… happened on its own.”

Jack huffed, he almost sounded amused. “Semantics.”

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just say ‘semantics’ every time I make a point.”

“I can,” he replied, completely deadpan. “And I will.”

“Jack.”

“Semantics.”

“Jack.”

“Semantics.”

“This is very demeaning, y’know.”

“Semantics.”

You laughed at him. You were about to tease him again when Jack suddenly let out a chuckle—wait, a laugh? Not the short, dry sound he usually made with little amusement, but something warmer that bubbled up and out of his chest. His mouth curved into a wide, toothy grin, his sharp teeth gleaming like little pearls. His eyelids squeezed shut over his sockets as he laughed, and you found the sight so odd, like pulling a curtain over some void and trying to pretend it wasn’t there.

The sight caught you completely off guard. You’d never seen him smile like that—so open and genuine, almost boyish. It made something flutter oddly in your chest.

You laughed with him before you could stop yourself, surprised and delighted all at once. “What? What’s so funny?”

Jack just shook his head, still smiling big. “Nothing. You’re just… funny.”

You stared at him for a second, still processing the expression on his face. Then the question slipped out before you could think better of it.

“Jack… are you drunk?”

It was quiet again for a beat, until Jack let out a deep chuckle. The sound started delighted but quickly turned sheepish when you asked.

“No way,” you gawked, eyes wide.

Jack shrugged one broad shoulder. “Is it so obvious?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “No, it’s just… funny. This is probably the most I’ve ever heard you talk. And you’re being sarcastic? I thought, either that or you’re tripping.”

He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh with him, a little stunned. You’d never seen him like this.

“I barely even saw you drink tonight,” you added, tilting your head. “How did you manage that?”

Jack didn’t answer right away. Instead, that smile on his face shifted from one cheek to the other as he looked down at you. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach flip with nerves again.

Then, without a word, he lifted his hands.

You watched, frozen, as his large gray hands curled under the hem of his baggy shirt. He slowly pulled it up, just high enough to expose his midsection. Your eyes widened.

God, he was built. Thick, solid muscle sat under muted gray skin, abs clearly defined and right above a deep v-line etched into his just-visible pelvis. A dark trail of hair disappeared down into the waistband of his sweatpants. You felt a little dizzy just looking at him.

But then your gaze caught on something much brighter.

Tucked neatly into the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapped all the way around his torso like some ridiculous colorful bandolier, were about two handfuls of little 99 brand alcohol shooters. Tiny bottles in every color—cherry red, lime green, coconut, orange, grape—all strapped against his skin, hidden right under his shirt.

You gawked at it.

Jack glanced down at himself, then back at you, still holding his shirt up. He must have noticed you staring at the colorful little bottles strapped around his waist, because he let out a low huff of a laugh and explained, “Toby and Nat ransacked a gas station right before the party started. They stole a whole bunch of these and hid them on me. Said it was the best way to keep them from getting passed around.”

You blinked, connecting the dots. “So that’s why you three have been glued together all night.

Jack gave a small nod. “They keep sneaking me into corners or bedrooms so nobody gets nosy and asks for any. Works pretty well.”

That also explained why Toby and Natalie had been so cuddly and hysterical—they were definitely beyond wasted by now.

“There were a lot more two hours ago,” Jack added, almost wistful.

Your eyes kept drifting between the little shooters and the hard planes of his torso, the contrast between the silly colorful bottles and his gray, muscled skin making your brain fizzle out a little.

Jack huffed. “Your heart’s loud again.”

You startled, pressing a hand to your chest like that would somehow quiet it. “Sorry. I’m trying.”

He reached down and plucked one of the shooters from his waistband—a bright cherry red one. The tiny bottle looked comically small in his large, clawed hand. He held it out toward you.

You waved him off. “I’ve had enough tonight, really.”

Jack’s mouth curved into a small, toothy smile. “As your doctor,” he said, deadpan, “it’s in your best interest that you drink this.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “As my doctor?”

A low growl rumbled in his chest, all gravely, and dark, and way more effective than it had any right to be. Every hair on your body stood on end.

“Drink it,” he said, quieter this time, but no less daunting.

You swallowed, took the little bottle from his hand, and twisted the cap off. It snapped open with a tiny clicks. You brought it to your lips and downed it in one go.

It burned.

God, it burned—like liquid fire sliding down your throat, sharp and sweet and way too strong. You winced, your eyes watering as the intense wave of alcohol hit your system. You hissed sharply as it went down, immediately tossing the empty shooter to the floor. “Jesus Christ, Jack—that tastes like rubbing alcohol.”

Jack laughed, then reached down and plucked a coconut-flavored one from his waistband, twisted the cap off, and downed it in one smooth motion. His pointed ears pressed back against his head as he swallowed, and then—to your viewing pleasure—three slick, dark tongues slipped out from between his sharp teeth. They curled around his lips, cleaning what he missed before disappearing again.

You stared, a little dazed.

The words left your mouth before your brain could convince yourself that you shouldn’t say anything.

“…Do things taste better with three tongues?”

Jack paused, considering the question like it was a serious inquiry. Then he shrugged one broad shoulder.

“It feels more intense,” he said plainly. “Like the taste is tripled. Overwhelms your senses more.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest.

Jack’s head tilted, his ears twitching a couple times. He must have heard it, because his gaze stayed fixed on you for a long second.

“…Can I taste yours?” he asked, just barely grumbling.

You blinked. “I already drank it all.”

Jack’s mouth curved into a wonky, toothy grin. The realization hit you just as the alcohol did.

Oh.

The buzz finally crashed over you in a warm, dizzy wave. Your heartbeat suddenly felt loud in your own ears, muffled like the music outside. You wondered if this was what Jack always heard when he was around people—that constant, frantic drumming. It made you wonder what else he could hear.

He shifted his weight onto the leg closest to you, leaning in until the space between you felt almost nonexistent. His shadow fell over you immediately like a stormcloud.

“You can taste mine too,” he purred.

You opened your mouth to say something—“Um—”—but your foot caught the edge of a box next to you. You stumbled, your balance completely gone.

Jack moved faster than you could see.

One strong arm hooked under your side and hauled you upright before you could even gasp, pulling you flush against his chest. Your hands instinctively grabbed onto his arms, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Sorry—” you started, breathless.

Jack just grumbled. His hands settled heavy on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down over you, his face hovering just above yours. The closeness made your heart stutter all over again.

You looked up at him, still gripping his arms. “I’m not a good kisser,” you whispered, pulling uselessly at straws to not make this seem awkward.

Jack’s response was immediate and blunt.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Open your mouth.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine. You tilted your face up obediently, lips parting.

Jack leaned in closer. His own lips parted, and three slick, warm tongues slid out from between his sharp teeth. They brushed your lips first—tasting the area—before one of them pressed forward and licked into your lips and across your tongue.

Then he kissed you.

It was overwhelming.

The three tongues moved with a mind of their own, sliding against yours, curling around it, exploring every inch of  your mouth like they were starving for the taste of you. One licked along the roof of your mouth while another tangled with your tongue, the third teasing the space inbetween. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once, your hands moving up his arms to his shoulders to pull him closer.

A soft, surprised sound escaped you, muffled against his mouth. Jack answered with a low rumble in his chest, one hand sliding up your back to keep you pressed close while the other stayed firm on your hip.

He kissed like he did everything else—completely consuming.

You tasted coconut.

Jack pressed you back until your shoulder blades met the wall, one large hand planting beside your head while the other gripped your hip and pulled your lower body forward. The angle made your back arch slightly toward him. Then his hips rolled forward, and you felt the unmistakable, heavy shape of him pressing against your hip through his sweatpants.

You gasped sharply into his mouth and pushed weakly at his chest. “Sorry—” he slurred through a mouthful of you.

But Jack only tightened his grip on your hip and tugged you closer, grinding you against him with all the lack of resistance he had. His three tongues never stopped moving, overwhelming as they curled around yours and licked along the roof of your mouth, teasing the inside of your cheeks. You tried to kiss him back the best you could, but it was hard to keep up. Your breathing quickly turned shallow, little gasps and whimpers slipping out between the messy slide of tongues.

You’d never seen Jack like this.

He was usually so quiet, so reserved and mysterious. But right now he was surprisingly blunt, almost greedy with the things he was saying. This was probably the most you’d ever heard him talk, and you couldn’t get enough of it. The low growls, the occasional muttered curse, the way his voice dropped when he felt you react to him… it was doing dangerous things to your buzzed head.

You found yourself getting lost in those endless black voids where his eyes should be. The anxiety and embarrassment that had been clawing at your chest slowly melted away, like he was draining it out of you with every pass of his tongues and every roll of his hips.

Jack pulled back just enough to speak against your lips.

“Slow your breathing down,” he murmured, almost teasing you. One of his tongues slid across your bottom lip. “Still nervous?”

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling tighter into his shirt.

“A little,” you admitted. Then, quieter, “Don’t stop.”

Jack made a deep, pleased sound in the back of his throat. His hand on your hip squeezed harder as he leaned back in, tongues sliding back into your mouth with renewed hunger. His hips pressed forward again, letting you feel just how hard he was against you. His lips eventually left yours, trailing slowly across your cheek, then down to your jaw. When they reached your neck, he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there before dragging one of his tongues along your skin. The sensation made you shiver.

His hand left the wall and came up to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he firmly tilted your head to the side, giving himself more room. He licked wet, warm stripes up the side of your neck, then sucked just below your ear.

You gasped, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders. A nervous flutter shot through your chest as the reality of who he was hit you again.

“…Jack,” you breathed, half-joking but not entirely, “are you gonna eat me?”

He paused, his lips still pressed against your neck, before he begins chuckling against you.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath causing goosebumps to rise across your shoulders. Your knees went weak instantly. A rush of heat flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.

Jack must have felt it, because he straightened up, pulling back just enough to look down at you. One of his hands stayed on your hip, steadying you.

“You have no idea how brilliant your anatomy is,” he said plainly, as if he was just stating a fact. “I don’t mean to be crude… but your structure is perfect. I could map every inch of you with my eyes closed.”

You let out a startled laugh, your cheeks burning. The words were grotesque and strangely flattering at the same time.

“You can’t even see anyway,” you pointed out, still laughing a little. “Doesn’t that already mean you’re doing it with your eyes closed?”

“Kinda. It’s more like I’m looking through layers of thick film. Everything’s… foggy. I don’t understand it any better than you do. I stopped questioning how my body works a long time ago.”

You grinned, feeling bolder. “I don’t think you could actually do it without seeing. So what if you went to Yale, I’m still not that impressed with you.”

Jack’s hand lifted from the wall and reached above his head, his fingers finding the dangling pull chain of the overhead bulb.

You glanced up. “What are you doing?”

“So you know I’m not cheating,” he said simply.

He gave the chain a tug.

Click.

The light went out.

The closet plunged into near-total darkness, save for the thin sliver of hallway light bleeding in from under the door. For a second, your eyes struggled to adjust. And then you saw him.

In the dark, Jack was… horrifying.

The little light from beneath the door only barely outlined his silhouette, but it was enough. He looked like something that had crawled out of the woods at night—like something that you’d see in a horror movie. You understood his reputation, the stories you’ve heard from others about the things they witnessed the demon do, but you’d never faced the reality of it until now—never gotten a full picture of what he really was. His gray skin seemed to drink in what little light there was. The sharp points of his ears angled and swiveled to bumps and creaks all around. His claws curled at his sides, clenching the air as his shoulders slumped to account for the little space, his frame hanging over you. And those empty black sockets… they looked like holes punched straight through the sky. Bottomless. Ancient. You think they’d drop off like a cliff if you leaned any closer.

If you were anyone else, anywhere else—especially in the woods at night—you would’ve screamed and ran.

But you weren’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning closer.

Jack stepped in, pulling you against him with one arm around your waist. His mouth found your neck again, hot and wet as he kissed and licked along the flushed skin.

Then he began to map you. His fingers and lips moved carefully along your skin, until he pressed a kiss just beneath your ear.

“This is your Sternocleidomastoid,” he murmured against your skin, His clawed fingers traced the muscle on the other side of your neck, following the muscles shape. “Runs from here… to here.”

He dragged his mouth lower, his lips peppering your collarbone as his fingers followed.

“Clavicle,” he said, pressing lightly on the bone. “Deltoid…” His hand slid over your shoulder, squeezing the thick muscle there. “You hold so much tension right here.”

You shivered, little gasps and sighs as he massaged and traced areas. He had to maneuver you a bit, tugging you closer to his chest as he leaned down further. His fingers trailed down your side, his digits finding their way under your shirt until you felt them along your goosebumped skin. “External oblique…” His hand slid behind your back. “Latissimus dorsi…” Another kiss, lower this time, his teeth nipping as he moved. “You’re so well-built. Everything fits together so nicely.”

Jack’s hand slid down your arm until he caught your wrist. He lifted it and pressed a kiss to the thin skin on the inside, right where your pulse beat frantically.

“Right here,” he kissed it once more. “This vein runs straight to your heart.”

You thought it embarrassing how much you were shivering.

Then he moved his head lower, trailing his mouth down to your chest. He kissed you through your shirt, before slipping his hand from your back to your abdomen under your shirt. You felt shaky and exposed and way too vulnerable.

Jack’s claws curled and pressed in just a fraction at one specific point on your side, the sharp tips teetering on the idea of pressing further.

“This is your spleen,” he said with a little smile in his voice. “If I pressed any harder… I could puncture it. You’d bleed out quickly internally. It’d be so messy.”

He let the words settle in your head.

“Isn’t that interesting?” he whispered. “One little slip… and it could all be over.”

Anxiety twisted sharply in your stomach. But underneath it, something much darker and hotter stirred. Excitement. A sick, dizzy kind of thrill that made your thighs press together.

Jack noticed, because why-fucking-wouldn’t he? His claws dragged down your skin as his hand dipped lower, slipping toward the waistband of your pants. You grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“Wait—Jack, we don’t have much time,” you warned, looking to the door. “It’s gotta be almost seven minutes.”

He stopped for a second, only to chuckle to himself and lean back in, pushing a kiss against your jaw. Then, “I don’t think you really care,” he smiled. “Your body sure doesn’t.”

You whined as Jack’s hands roamed down your hips and around to your lower back, pulling you closer with a coaxing tug that said ‘I wasn’t really asking’. The heat of his palms bled through your clothes, making your skin prickle and scorch in spots.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, your nerves spiking to an all time high. “We can’t do this here—”

Jack just grinned at you. “It’s not me you’re gonna have to worry about getting us caught.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant.

His hands slid down and grabbed your ass, squeezing firmly. You squeaked, your hips jerking forward as you gripped the front of his shirt like a vice. Jack let out a satisfied noise and moved you exactly how he wanted—strong enough that you couldn’t have resisted even if you tried.

He spun you slightly, pressing your back more firmly against the wall as his fingers worked open the button and zipper of your jeans. The fabric gave way easily under his hands, the hem of your underwear peaking through the now-open folds. With one smooth tug, he shoved your jeans down your hips, letting them bunch around your thighs. The cool air hit your exposed skin and you shivered, trying to catch the breath that was so suddenly knocked out of you. Jack stood as straight as he could and examined his meal.

“Ah… fuck—just be fast, please,” you hissed.

Jack stood as tall as the low ceiling would allow, looking down at you by the bridge of his nose. And as if you couldn’t feel any smaller, he chuckled at you.

“You sure did give in quickly,” he hummed with satisfaction.

Embarrassment flooded your face. You squirmed against the wall, refusing to meet the place where his eyes should be. “Shut up and get on with it,” you grumbled, heat crawling up your neck.

Jack leaned in closer, planting one large hand on the wall beside your head. His other hand trailed down your side, then to your hip, before his fingertips drug over your stomach until they pressed firmly just above your pelvis. You tensed. Your hips tilted forward instinctively, fighting against the awkward bunch of your jeans still caught around your thighs.

His hand continued lower, stopping just above your clit, his palm hovering over the damp fabric of your panties. He leaned down until his mouth brushed your ear. “You’re in no place to get bossy right now,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

Then he pressed one thick finger between your folds, right over your soaked panties. The fabric clung to you, and the moment his finger slid along your slit, it came away slick with your arousal. Jack kissed the edge of your jaw, peppering your skin, before pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies. A pleased sound escaped him.

“Well… this is a nice surprise,” and you could practically hear how pleased he was with himself.

You groaned in embarrassment and wrapped your arms tightly around his broad shoulders, burying your burning face into the side of his neck instead of letting him see you. His shirt smelled so strongly of his warm, crisp scent that it made you dizzy, but you’d rather hide from his taunting than pretend like it wasn’t turning you on something terrible. He could at least whisper it in your ear seductively, like a gentleman.

Jack’s finger continued rubbing exploratory circles over your clit, testing different pressures and angles to see how your body reacted. Every time he found a spot that made your hips roll or your breath punch out of you, he lingered there.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured, trying to sound plain, but the thrill in his voice gave away how much he was enjoying this. “Look at you… getting even wetter every time I touch you.”

“Shut up,” you whined, the words muffled against his shoulder.

“But I like it,” he hummed softly. “I like how your body tells me what you won’t.”

“Because you’d tease me,” you tried not to sound as pathetic as you felt.

Jack’s voice felt like somebody dragging a hot brand across your skin. “But you’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words got stuck somewhere between your pride and the heat scorching low in your belly.

Jack made a hum of acknowledgement, like he’d expected exactly that. His finger slipped beneath the edge of your panties, tugging the damp fabric to the side and exposing you to the air. You gripped him tighter, fearing if you’d let go you’d fall off the earth somehow.

He teased you—because why-fucking-wouldn’t he—dragging the pad of his finger along your folds, then higher up your inner thigh, then back again. But all so slow. He was enjoying how you tried (and failed) to stay still and not look desperate, your hips following wherever you felt his warm digits.

You pinched his shoulder in frustration.

Jack pinched you back, right on your upper thigh, “Impatient.”

“We don’t have time,” you nearly growled.

“Alright, alright,” he cooed.

Just as Jack’s fingers started honing toward your entrance, right when you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, you heard it. Heavy footsteps thumping down the hallway toward the two of you.

Your eyes flew open. Panic shot through you like ice water being poured over your head. You shoved at his chest, stumbling frantically, “Jack— I told you—”

But he didn’t stop.

Jack straightened up slightly, looking down at you like he always fucking did. His face was unreadable, but the corner of his mouth pulled up like he was amused. You tried to push his hand away, but he simply pressed forward, two thick fingers now sliding through your soaked folds and teasing at your entrance again.

“Jack—” you whisper-yelled, thinking maybe he thought you were still playing around, “we’re going to get caught—”

The footsteps grew louder, right outside the door now. Voices and laughter followed. But Jack brought his free hand up to his mouth in a little “shhh” motion, his pointer finger pressing to his lips. Then, without missing a beat, he reached beside him with that same hand and cracked the closet door open just an inch, enough for his face and upper torso to be visible while the rest of you stayed hidden against the wall and him.

Natalie and Toby’s voices burst through immediately.

“J!” Natalie called, clearly still drunk and delighted if the swimminess of her voice was any idea. “Time’s uuuup.”

Toby was laughing so hard he could barely speak, although nothing was really happening at the moment to warrant all the hysterics. “Is the poor thing still—HA—alive?”

But even still, Jack didn’t stop.

The tip of one thick finger pushed against your entrance, and before you could make a move to stop him, it pushed slowly into your aching cunt, stretching you open as you stood there, trapped between the wall and his body. You slapped a hand over your mouth instantly, eyes wide with panic and overwhelming pleasure as he sank the finger deeper, curling it lazily against your walls.

“Yeah,” Jack answered them, his voice back to its monotonous tone. “Alive. Barely.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth as his finger pumped in and out slowly, slick sounds barely masked by the loud music still blasting from the living room and their talking. Your knees trembled. Jack shifted his weight, pressing you harder against the wall to keep you upright while he casually chatted with his friends. You could see him trying to hold back a smile.

You couldn’t see Nat and Toby, but you assumed they were cheesing and standing on their tip-toes to try and get a view over Jack’s shoulder. “You didn’t actually bite ‘em, did you?”

Jack’s thumb found your clit just as a second finger tried to push in to join the first, the large digits catching on your entrance. It took shifting your hips, but they both pushed in. You could feel yourself clenching around him, having to bite down on your own hand to stay quiet.

“Not yet,” Jack finally grinned, his sharp teeth peeking out just as he curled his knuckles and massaged the inner wall of your cunt. “You shouldn’t eat big meals all at once.”

Toby wheezed with laughter. “You’re so w-weird, man. Hurry up and come out, we’re gonna d-do another round soon.”

Jack shifted his arm closer to your pelvis, the palm of his hand finding a home snug against your clit as he rubbed, curling his fingers just enough inside you to make small noises fight to escape.

“We’ll be out in a second,” Jack grinned. “We’re chatting.” The word alone sounded weird coming from his mouth, and Natalie sure didn’t miss it.

Natalie let out a loud, obnoxious laugh and slapped the wall on the other side of your head, making you jump. Jack acted like it was him adjusting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His fingers kept moving between your legs, massaging your soaked cunt as your slick dripped down over his knuckles. Your panties were absolutely ruined and you knew it.

He ignored her hysterics, turning his attention to Toby instead. “Hey. Remember those cases of beer you two stole? They’re still upstairs. Don’t forget them.”

It was like a starter pistol. Toby and Natalie immediately perked up.

“Oh shit, you’re r-right!” Toby shouted, already turning away. “We’re geniuses!”

Natalie cackled. “Jack, you’re a fucking genius. We’ll start another game! Take your time in there, you twoooo.”

Jack gave a small nod. “Start without us. We’ll be there soon.”

You heard their footsteps retreating down the hall, loud and clumsy with excitement, and maybe the sound of them shoving each other against the walls as they left. The second they were far enough away, Jack pulled the closet door shut, plunging you both back into near-darkness.

You immediately yanked your hand off your mouth.

“You asshole,” you hissed, smacking his chest. “I told you—I fucking told you—”

Jack just laughed, punctuating it as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. He bumped them, circling that perfect spot that made the words fizzle from your mouth.

“Did you hear that?” he leaned down next to your ear again. “They said we could take all the time we need.”

You gawked up at him, jaw dropping open in disbelief, but any protest died the moment he thrust his fingers harder, curling them just right until you felt a deep pressure in your gut. Your knees buckled. You tried to cover your mouth again, but the demon pulled your hand away.

“Jack—” you whimpered, pressing your head back against the wall to try and get some air.

He hummed in satisfaction, watching as he pumped his knuckles in and out, and in and out. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe.

Just when you were about to give in, when your nerves finally melted under the heat of his touch, Jack easily pulled his fingers out of you.

You gawked at him, all breathless and frustrated. “You’re such an asshole.”

He just kept grinning. “For somebody who keeps saying we shouldn’t be doing this… you sure do get upset when I stop giving you what you want.”

Your face burned with embarrassment. Before you could snap back at him, his hands moved to your jeans, still bunched around your thighs. He tugged them down with ease, and you helped him by shimmying and kicking them off when they caught around your sneakers. They landed in a heap somewhere beside you. Then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties. He snapped the thin fabric against your hip, making you hiss, before dragging them down your legs. You started babbling nervously, words tumbling out without thought.

“Jack—wait, this is—this is bad—we’re gonna get caught, someone’s gonna come back and—oh my god—”

Either he didn’t hear you or he didn’t care. Your panties slid down your thighs and pooled at your ankles. You managed to kick one foot free, but the other stayed tangled as Jack placed one large hand on the inside of your thigh and pushed your legs further apart. You tried not to shiver—out of nervousness or excitement, you weren’t sure—but you gripped the bottom of your shirt like it could somehow hide you. You felt so unbearably exposed, just standing there half-naked like there weren’t people just feet away outside.

“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured. “So sweet.”

“Jack…”

“I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time,” he admitted. “Now I finally get to.”

Jack dropped to his knees in front of you.

The floorboards creaked under his weight, and you felt it in your bones—that heavy, solid presence suddenly lower, looking up at you from the most beautiful angle you think you’d ever seen. It was a terrifyingly beautiful sight. He was so tall that even on his knees he took up most of the space, his broad shoulders sitting at your waist-height. His large hands came up to grip your thighs, thumbs rubbing from your hips down toward your knees, coaxing your legs further apart. You felt like you could crawl up the wall from pure nervousness as he leaned in closer.

He started soft.

Warm lips pressed to your hip, then lower to your pelvis, peppering slow, open-mouthed kisses across every inch of soft skin he could reach. His breath was hot against you. When he finally settled fully between your thighs, his face hovered right in front of your cunt. You could feel him grinning—you could feel it.

You reached down with shaky hands, grabbing fistfuls of his messy hair to steady yourself. “Jack… please be easy,” you whispered.

He tilted his head up. “What are you so afraid of?” His lips brushed your inner thigh as he spoke, and you had to swallow your nerves.

“Your teeth…”

Jack pulled back just enough to show them off—the sharp, gleaming points smiling up at you. Then, just to be funny, he snapped his teeth together right in front of your cunt, the clack making you jump.

He chuckled. “You’re alright. I won’t hurt you.”

Before you could say anything else, Jack leaned in fully. He pressed a soft kiss just above your clit, his nose brushing against your skin. Then his mouth disappeared between your legs.

“I won’t hurt you a bit.”

The first touch of his tongue made you melt.

One thick, warm, wet tongue pushed slowly between your folds, dragging up through your slick heat and soaking in the taste. The feeling was overwhelming—hotter and more intense than you expected. He groaned at the first taste, the vibration rolling straight through your core as he licked again, like he was tasting something he’d been starving for.

Your grip tightened in his hair, a broken whimper slipping from your lips as your head fell back against the wall.

Jack’s hands slid around the backs of your thighs, gripping firmly as he angled your hips forward, opening you up even more for him. He pressed his face deeper between your legs and licked a broad stripe through your folds, dragging the flat of his warm tongue right over your clit.

It felt like a thick, wet tentacle sliding against you, like it had a mind of its own. His spit coated your cunt in a ridiculous amount, dripping down your thighs and making everything messy and obscene. For someone so stoic and quiet in his everyday, Jack was suddenly a mouthful of grunts and hungry groans against your skin. His pointed ears fluttered against the sides of his head with every lick, and his claws tugged and gripped against your thighs like he couldn’t pull you close enough.

You felt your resolve completely dissolve.

Your bones went soft, your legs relaxing as you started grinding against his tongue, chasing the pleasure with desperate rolls of your hips. Jack groaned deeply in response like he was approving the movements.

“Mhhm…” you whimpered, trying to curb your embarrassment to let him hear you. “Feels so good, Jack… feels really good—”

He made an appreciative sound and nudged the tip of his tongue against your entrance. It took some effort, but his fingers had done most of the hard work of stretching you, so your eyes rolled deliciously as his tongue breached your entrance and nudged its way inside your cunt. His tongue was longer and thicker than his fingers had been. It slid into your soaked heat with ease, warm and gummy from how wet you already were, reaching deeper than anything had before. You whined loudly, your hips jerking as he began to fuck you with it with thrusts that curled and stroked inside you.

Jack groaned as your hands gripped his messy hair, his eyelids slowly closing over those dark abysses you keep getting lost in.

But Jack was completely lost in you—eating you like a starving man, grunting and growling against your cunt while his claws dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open for his mouth. Every time you clenched around his tongue he made a pleased noise and pushed even deeper than before.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue the moment you felt it. A second tongue nudged insistently against your full entrance, probing and pushing alongside the first. It tried to slip in, but the angle was tight. You shifted your hips, trying to help, but Jack made an impatient growl and moved.

One of his large hands slid down the back of your thigh, hooked under your knee, and lifted it smoothly. He pushed your leg up and outward, spreading you open even wider before resting your knee over his shoulder. The new position left you imbalanced, and you had to halfway hold onto the wall and him for support.

But that was all the room he needed.

The second tongue nestled in alongside the first with a lewd plunge. You groaned loudly, your head falling to your shoulder as you felt too dazed to stand up straight. Two thick, warm tongues filled your cunt, pushing and pulling, curling and stroking against your walls in a messy, uncoordinated rhythm that somehow felt even better because of it.

“Fuck—Jack—” you whimpered, your voice breaking on every word.

He groaned in response, letting you know it felt good for him too. His claws dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as he held your leg in place beside his head. The sensation was insane. You felt so impossibly full, every inch of your cunt being claimed by him. Spit and your own wetness dripped down your thighs and his chin as his tongues worked deeper, twisting and exploring like they were trying to map every part of you from the inside.

You felt it before you could even process it—before you’d even had time to process the second one—a third tongue slipped from between his lips, sliding wetly between the other two. It nudged right up against your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing torturously well.

A violent shiver ripped through you. Your hands flew from his hair to his ears, your fingers curling around the pointed tips to get some semblance of stability.

Jack shuddered. His whole body jolted like he’d been shocked. His ears pinned flat against his head for a second before flicking wildly under your touch. The reaction was so sudden and strong that you both froze for half a heartbeat.

Then, cautiously, you started rubbing them.

Your thumbs stroked over the sensitive tips and along the soft lobes, gently feeling his cat-like ears. He tried his best to keep licking you, but kept getting caught on stiff moans.

“Jack…” you gasped. “Umm… Does that feel good?”

He nodded against you, jaw and chin bumping messily into your soaked folds. He was taking deep, loud breaths through his nose, exhaling against you. Then the most unexpected sound rumbled out of his chest.

A low, rumbling purr.

At first you thought it was just your own nerves buzzing in your head, but no—you could feel it. The vibration rolled through his chest and straight into your bones, all warm and constant, making your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut.

“Oh my god—” you moaned, your mouth falling open as the sensations intensified. It felt obscene, like his entire body was vibrating against your most sensitive places and melting your mind.

Jack was losing himself, too. His purring grew louder, deeper, as you kept stroking and rubbing his ears. His tongues moved with renewed hunger—two thrusting and curling inside you while the third flicked and sucked messily at your clit. It seemed as if he was wholly content on drowning himself in you. 

You were babbling now, open-mouthed and shameless. “Fuck—Jack, that feels—hah—oh god—I can’t—please—”

The pressure built fast—too fast. A sudden, overwhelming wave of bliss crashed over you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat.

“Jack—Jack, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, scrambling to hold him tighter.

His eyelids fluttered open halfway, empty eyesockets staring up at you while you trembled. You got lost staring into them, your head spinning to a heap of mush as you felt pleasure running your veins. That look alone pushed you over the edge.

You came so miserably hard.

Your whole body seized up, thighs shaking violently around his head as pleasure ripped through you in crashing waves. You clenched desperately around his tongues, moaning loud and shamelessly as your orgasm flooded his mouth. Jack groaned at the beginning of the taste, your slick flooding his senses so quickly it made him just as delirious as you.

His tongues stiffened inside you, pressing and nudging firmly against your rapidly clenching walls, milking every last pulse of pleasure as he sucked greedily on your clit. His nose stayed crammed tight against you, his lips sealing around you as he swallowed again and again, drinking everything you so graciously were giving him.

You were loud at first—broken moans and desperate praises spilling from your lips without filter. But as the peak began to fade, it melted into soft, mewled whines and shaky groans. Your orgasm turned into a rippling, lingering current deep in your gut, sending aftershocks through your body that made your legs twitch and your hips jerk weakly against his face.

With some effort, Jack began to tug his tongues from your body one at a time, the thick muscles sliding out of you, and a mess of slick followed. Jack made sure to lick it all up, his tongues running through your folds once more, savoring every twitch and flutter like he couldn’t bear to pull away.

You gasped sharply, everything suddenly feeling way too oversensitive.

“Jack—wait, it’s too much,” your voice was hoarse. “Too sensitive—”

He made a reluctant sound but slowly retreated, his tongues slipping back into his mouth like it pained him to do so. He sat back on his knees, looking up at you. His chin and mouth were glistening with a messy mix of his spit and your slick, and those black voids stared at you with unmistakable longing.

The moment he pulled away, the leg you still had planted on the floor buckled. You slid down the wall with a surprised yelp, landing in a boneless heap in front of him. Your ankle was still hooked over his shoulder, leaving you sprawled and openly exposed across his lap.

Jack caught you instantly though, his strong hands bracing your waist so you didn’t hit the floor too hard. You panted quickly, your chest billowing up and down as you tried to catch your breath. It felt like your whole body was buzzing.

Before you could even try to sit up, Jack gripped the ankle resting on his shoulder and tugged upward. You were pulled further down until your ass rested on top of his knees, your shoulders braced against the baseboards behind you. You felt like you were folded in half. You tried to scramble upright, feeling awkward, but Jack was already catching your other leg—the one with your panties still dangling uselessly from the ankle—and lifted it smoothly onto his opposite shoulder.

“More,” he grumbled.

Your stomach flipped with panic.

“No, no, no—wait, I need a minute,” you babbled through deep breaths of air, throwing your hands up. “I can’t—you’re too much, I need to breathe—just for a second—”

But he wasn’t listening. His focus had narrowed completely. Those endless black sockets were fixed between your legs with single-minded hunger.

“I’m sorry,” was all the response you got.

“Jack—”

He handled you like you weighed nothing.

His hands gripped your hips firmly and pulled your lower half upward in one smooth motion. Your knees hooked over his broad shoulders as your head and shoulder blades slid and landed against the floor. Your body folded almost in half, completely upside down, your shirt riding up to expose your stomach and chest. His large arms wrapped around your torso, strong hands gripping the soft flesh of your sides, holding you securely in place so you couldn’t even squirm out of it if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, but there was no real remorse in it. If anything, he just sounded excited. “You just taste so fucking good… I need you to cum again. Just a little more. Then I’ll be done.”

Your head was already spinning from the rush of blood, so you had no fight in your body or your words. You gripped his arms tightly, trying to brace yourself.

“Let’s just go to my room,” you fussed, trying to get him to just take a second. “It’s way too cramped in here, we can’t—”

But every protest died on your tongue the instant you felt it.

A familiar sensation dragged up through your soaked folds in a broad, wet lick. Your legs fell open limply over his shoulders as a broken moan wailed from your throat. The new angle gave him the perfect access, angling you however he wanted.

“Oh god…”

Jack moaned as he licked again, savoring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough. His arms tightened around your torso, pulling your hips up and against his hungry mouth.

“Fuck…” he rasped against your cunt. “Do you even know… mhnnn… how good you taste?”

Jack’s eyelids fluttered shut again, the black voids disappearing as he focused entirely on you.

Then you saw it—the absolute horror and fascination of his other two tongues slipping out from between his lips to join the one. They were sickly blue-black, glistening and drooling with spit, long and monstrously thick. They dangled for a moment before curling forward, licking up the insides of your thighs until they finally converged, forking together right at your entrance.

Through a mouthful of his own tongues, Jack mumbled against your cunt, “Jus’ hang on to me.”

You dug your nails into his forearms, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the three tips pressed against your pulsing entrance at once. Your hips jerked, thighs instinctively trying to clamp shut around his head, but Jack held you firmly in place. It took a little work—a slight shift of your hips, a change of the angle—but eventually, the three tongues wiggled their way inside you together.

The stretch was impossible.

You let out a keening moan as your walls were forced open wider than they’d ever been, the bulbous, wet muscles filling you as completely as they could reach. No inch of room was left untouched. The sensation of burning was so intensely good that your mind went fuzzy at the edges. Your body went limp and mushy in his hold, your legs shaking helplessly over his shoulders as he sank all three tongues as deep as they could go.

Jack groaned loudly into you, the sound vibrating through your core as he began to move them, greedy thrusts and curls that rubbed against every sensitive spot inside you at once. Spit and your own arousal dripped messily down your ass and stomach as he practically fucked you with them. 

You could barely think. All you could do was cling to his arms, your mouth open in a silent cry as he devoured you from the inside out, purring and growling enough to cause concern that he might actually be eating you.

And as if it couldn’t get any worse—or wonderfully better—Jack shifted one of his arms from your torso up to between your legs. His thumb found your throbbing clit and began rubbing slow circles over it, smearing your own wetness across the sensitive bud.

The shock of pleasure was devastating.

Your back arched hard off his lap, spine curving sharply as a silent cry tore through you. Your hands flew up above your head, palms slapping against the wall behind you for any kind of leverage. You tried to speak—tried to moan his name, to beg, to curse—but nothing came out. All the air had been punched out of your lungs. The only sounds your body could produce were the wet, filthy squelches of your cunt accommodating its intruder. You bucked your hips desperately, riding his face as much as your weak, trembling legs would allow. Every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb sent white-hot sparks shooting up your spine. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders, muscles twitching uncontrollably as you ground yourself against his mouth and tongue like you’d lost all semblance of control.

Jack’s purring grew louder, deeper, the constant rumble vibrating straight into your cunt and making your eyes roll back. He was completely lost in you, this newfound, insatiable hunger dampening his mind until all he could do was eat. You couldn’t even form words anymore. Couldn’t even think anymore.

You felt it building again—that familiar coil tightening deep in your core, winding tighter and tighter with every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb.

“Ja… Ja—ck… Jaahh—” you tried to warn him, but your voice was just as useless as the rest of your body. Your hand slapped weakly at his arm, your fingers grappling desperately as panic rose.

But Jack didn’t stop. Of course he didn’t. If anything, he doubled down. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, spilling over and running down your flushed cheeks as the pleasure became almost too much. You managed one shaky, broken whimper of his name right before you felt it.

Little sharp pinpricks.

Your eyes flew open through the tears. Jack had pulled back just enough for you to see his face. His lips were pulled back in a growl, sharp teeth fully exposed and pressed right against your slick, sensitive folds. Not breaking skin, not hurting you, but just resting there, a deadly reminder of exactly what he was.

You almost found it shameful how quickly that ruined you.

Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering uselessly as your vision blurred. You saw his face, then the ceiling, then the back of your eyelids—and then white.

“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” you blabbed, trying ridiculously hard to say nearly nothing. “Jack—I’m—oh god—”

This one slammed into you harder than the last.

Your whole body seized up, back arching violently as you came with a silent, open-mouthed cry. Your cunt clenched hard around his invading tongues, pulsing and gushing around them as wave after wave crashed through you. Tears streamed down your face pathetically.

Jack growled louder against you, the sound feral and satisfied as he drank down every drop you gave him. His tongues kept working you through it, thrusting and curling relentlessly gathering everything they could.

“Jaaaaack—” you mewled.

He finally pulled his tongues out of you with a wet pop sound, leaving you clenching around nothing. He was panting hard against your cunt, his breath hot and ragged as he licked slowly through your folds, then across your trembling thighs, cleaning every trace of your release like he couldn’t help himself.

Your legs slipped weakly from his shoulders, falling limply around his hips. For a long moment, the only sounds in the tiny closet were your shared heavy breathing and the distant thump of music as you tried to calm yourselves. Jack looked down at you, his face glistening with your slick. He stayed quiet, just watching you with those endless black sockets while you tried to remember how to breathe.

When your breathing finally evened out a little, he asked softly, “Are you alright?”

You managed a small, shaky nod.

Jack carefully helped you sit up, guiding your back against the wall. “Can you stand?”

You tried shifting your weight, but your legs felt like jelly. You shook your head, embarrassed.

He let out a low chuckle. “It’s alright.”

Jack moved your legs gently off his lap so he could stand. He turned and rummaged through the hanging coats until he found one that looked soft and long enough. Without an explanation, he draped it over your mostly naked body, wrapping it around you like a blanket. Before you could even thank him, he leaned down and scooped you up into his arms. One arm hooked under your knees, the other supporting your back as he held you securely against his chest. He bent down just enough to snag your discarded jeans off the floor.

You clutched the coat tighter around yourself. “Jack, I can’t go out there like this…”

He chuckled again, the sound warm in his chest. “Toby and Nat have everyone occupied by now. No one’s gonna notice.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Besides… I think a nice bath in my room could do you some good.”

You hesitated for half a second, then nodded, too tired and floaty in the head to argue.

Jack cracked the closet door open, listening for a moment, his ears swiveling around. When the coast seemed clear, he slipped out with you cradled against him, your arms grabbing around his neck. You both moved quickly down the opposite end of the hall, away from the noise of the party. Laughter and shouting echoed from the living room as you snuck up the stairs like two stowaways.

He never let his grip loosen on you for a second.

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!

๑ prologue

๑ back to my masterlists

Arguments between you and Liu were incredibly uncommon. Liu went out of his way to avoid them, and the two of you rarely ever disagreed on anything to begin with.

Honestly, he doesn't know what started the fight. Probably him. He was reckless, uncaring of his injuries. You didn't like that, and he didn't see what the issue was. It spiraled from there, and became this whole thing that came to a screeching halt when you stormed off to the bedroom.

And Liu... he left. He walked around town, ignored Sully's pestering, and let his emotions eat him alive.

You were mad at him. The thought alone had his eyes watering.

So when Liu got back to your place later that night to see you sitting on the couch, he wanted nothing more than to make things up to you. Neither of you spoke a word as he sat down next to you. You didn't glance his way, and his heart broke.

At first, he didn't do anything. He didn't want to upset you more, but... the silence was killing him.

Slowly, he reached out. His fingers brushed against your wrist, careful and hesitant. You don't pull away, and he takes that as permission to interlock his fingers with yours, pulling your hand up to his lips so he can press a soft kiss against the back of it.

"I'm sorry," He murmurs against your skin, glancing over to see you finally looking his way.

His heart races when he meets your gaze. You looked so... annoyed. It hurt to see you like this, but... Sully really wasn't lying when he told him that you were incredibly hot when you got like this.

The thought has his face flushing, shame making its way at home in his gut along with a steadily rising need.

His lips trail up to kiss your wrist, and then your arm. You don't push him away, so he presses on. He leans over to kiss your shoulder, your neck. He trails up to your jaw, and then your cheek.

The annoyance in your gaze melted into something softer, but Liu wasn't done.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and slow. You were quick to return it, and he thinks that if he died right now, he'd be fine with it.

Liu doesn't break the kiss until he slides off the couch so he's kneeling on the ground before you. You were sitting criss-cross, but he was quick to change that. Pulling you to the edge of the couch, you had no choice but to drape your legs over his shoulders.

His cheek rests against your thigh, and he can feel the way you tense up just a bit as he presses a soft kiss against your skin. Liu loved being like this, between your legs, looking up at you.

"I'm sorry," He mumbles again, this time his eyes beginning to water from the sheer emotion he felt. He'd cried enough today, but he just can't help but cry a little more knowing you're willing to let him get close to you like this.

"Stop apologizing," You say, your voice oh so soft that Liu swears he died and went to heaven.

But Liu hasn't made things up to you yet. A simple sorry isn't enough to convey how remorseful he felt. He needed to give you something more, to make you feel better.

His hands slowly trail up your thighs, squeezing them before his fingers absently fiddle with the button of your jeans. He can hear your breath hitch, and he licks his lips as he holds your gaze.

"Let me make it up to you. Please?" He softly murmurs. It's not begging, but the desperation was heavy in his words, one that you no doubt picked up on.

Liu can see the exact moment you decide to give in, a small huff coming from you as you nod, "Then you better get to work, yeah?" You murmur. If Liu wasn't hard already, then he most certainly is now.

His hands shook as he worked to unbutton your jeans, his mouth suddenly dry as he managed to finally get them undone. Unzipping them, he gently nudges you to lift your hips, pulling your jeans down until you're able to kick them off with ease.

This isn't the first time he's seen you like this, and it most certainly won't be the last. But every time he finds himself like this, he finds himself overcome with an overwhelming amount of love. Liu can't help but take a deep breath, and you let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head a bit.

"You're so beautiful," He whispers, his voice barely audible even in the quiet of your home as he shifts closer, pressing a soft kiss against your pussy through the fabric of your panties.

He wanted nothing more than to tear the fabric off and devour you until you're a breathless mess, but Liu wanted to take his time. This was an apology, after all. So instead, he slowly licks your clothed slit, looking up at you and holding your gaze.

His hand comes up, his thumb pressing against your clit. He can hear your breath stutter, and the wet patch forming against your panties was more than just his spit.

Liu is more than happy to eat you out through your panties, his thumb making slow circles against your clit. He doesn't stop until you're completely soaked through, teetering just on the edge of an orgasm.

"Liu," His name on your tongue sends a shudder through his body, and he had to stop himself from fucking the air as he hums against you, relishing in the way your eyes flutter a bit at the feeling, "I want more."

And there's no way he could ever deny you. Whatever you want, he was willing to give.

Your panties were gone before you could blink, and the cool air hits your exposed folds, causing you to shiver just a bit.

Liu's nails dig into the meat of your thighs, no doubt going to leave small indents in your skin. You were dripping, and he was dying for a taste. Before he could actually get to work, your fingers were burying themselves into his hair and lightly tugging him back.

The whine that came from Liu earned a soft laugh from you, and the sound went straight to his dick. Fuck, you really have no idea how perfect you are.

"Shouldn't you ask nicely first?" You ask, acting like you weren't thoroughly affected by the little he'd been able to give you. You wanted him to beg. You loved when he did, and Liu knew that.

"Baby, angel, please," He presses himself back into your hand, the feeling of you pulling his hair, even just a little bit, had his craving for more, "I'm sorry for upsetting you, I really am. Let me make it up to you. Please? Just... just one taste. I'll make you feel so good, baby, I promise."

He can feel your grip tighten just a bit, can see and hear the way you suck in a sharp breath before you're nodding, tugging him closer, "Go ahead, baby. Make me feel good." You exhale.

And the moment you gave permission, Liu was surging forward. Your taste flooded his senses, and he groaned. His tongue greedily lapped up your juices like he was a man dying of thirst, and the sounds coming from him were downright sinful.

He gave you no time to adjust to the feeling of his tongue before he was latching onto your clit and sucking. A low moan tears through your throat, and your hips jerk just a bit. It's a motion Liu eagerly welcomes, pressing himself impossibly closer to you.

One hand still grips one of your thighs, keeping you as close to him as possible while his other hand snakes up, and you're so wet that it was easy to slide two fingers inside of you.

"Fuck, Liu," You breathlessly moan, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you causing you to clench around them. You were starting to get desperate, and it was clear in the way your hips would jerk involuntarily every other second, chasing a high that Liu was eager to give you.

His fingers were quick to press against the special spot inside you, and he watched as your head fell back, a desperate moan escaping your lips as your eyes fluttered shut. He made sure to angle his fingers so that they would press against your g-spot each time he would pump them back in, his tongue circling your clit in all the right ways.

You were getting close to the edge, both of your hands buried in his hair at this point as you grind your hips, riding his face and using him like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. Which… was really hot, and he could probably cum in his pants just from that alone.

When your orgasm hits you, you're barely able to warn him before your release was crashing through you.

Liu drank it all up, not letting a single drop go to waste. He pulls his fingers out, making sure to lick them clean as well before he was back to licking your folds, peppering soft kisses against them before you were gently tugging him back.

He mourned the loss of your taste, but didn't resist.

And Liu was a mess. His face was flushed, pupils blown, with your juices dripping down his chin as he licked his lips, clearly craving more. Not to mention the mess you've made of his hair.

"Was it good?" He asks, breathless, as you pull him up.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, and he melts into you, kissing back ever so gently like you were the most precious thing in the world. And to him, you were.

"Wouldn't have let you done it if it wasn't," You murmur against his lips, and he can't really argue with that.

His forehead presses against yours, more than willing to just bask in silence with you. But he's quick to break the silence, his voice soft as he speaks, "…Am I forgiven?"

The question earned a soft hum from you, "Of course, baby."

Liu exhales, pressing another quick kiss against your lips.

"Love you," He whispers. It doesn't convey the true depth of his feelings for you, but it was enough.

You smile, "Love you too. Now hurry up and take me to bed, I wanna go another round."

listen... listen... i'm just thinking about. sully.

he's such a tease right right we all agree he's a tease. he spent the entire day teasing you, letting his fingers linger for too long, whispering things in your ear just to see you squirm...

it all leads to you handcuffing him to the bed later that evening. he's more than delighted by this, his gaze following your every movement as your secure the cuffs around his wrists and trap him to the bed. he tugs at the cuffs, smiling as you straddle him.

"well, ain't this a pretty sight?" he hums, his accent thickening just a bit as his gaze dances all over you, drinking in every detail. you smile sweetly at his words, your fingers already working to unbuckle his belt.

you're purposefully being slow with it, and sully likes it. he likes that this is your way of getting back at him, because this had honestly been his end goal. the man was down bad for you, and it was obvious from the way he was already hard even though you've barely touched him.

and you keep him still when his hips twitch, your fingers lightly tracing up his length before your thumb presses against the tip. the whine that comes from him is downright sinful, and the flush on his face as your mouth going dry.

"darlin'..." his voice his a bit strained, his gaze never leaving your face even as you shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, "if you're tryin' to punish me, this isn't gonna work."

and you smile, "who said this was a punishment? i'm just taking what you've been denying me all day."

you make him watch as you finger yourself, and he tugs at the cuffs every time you let out a soft moan. his fingers dig into his palms, and he licks his lips, his gaze glued to the movement of your fingers.

"let me help," he says, words a bit breathless.

you hum in feign thought before shaking your head, "nope. you don't get to touch." and fuck him, because that was the hottest thing he thinks you've said to him today.

"how heartless of you." he pouts, though it's obvious that he's enjoying the show.

and when you finally decide that you're prepped enough to take him, sully moans as you sink down on his length. the cuffs are digging into his wrists from how badly he's tugging at them, desperate to touch you in some way.

"fuck," he groans, voice breaking just a bit. your hands are pressed against his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you. every time you clenched, even just a bit, sully made a small noise.

and then you start to move. it's slow at first, like you wanted to take your time with him. but sully wanted more. he needed you to use him, to take what you wanted. your pleasure was above his, always.

"ah, angel," he sucks in a breath, "go faster. please." his voice breaks, and... who are you to deny him, really?

you ride him like it's the last thing you'll ever do, and he fucking loves it. he says broken praises in between moans, his back arching off the bed a bit as tears stream down his face. the pleasure was addictive, and there was this dazed smile on his face.

"i'm... i'm close," you manage to say in between a moan, and sully perks up like you've just handed him a treat.

"yeah? 's it that good, angel? 'cause fuck, it feels good. wanna... wanna cum inside. can i? please?" he doesn't quite beg, but you can hear the way his voice just teeters on the edge of it, and that as you coming to an abrupt stop.

his eyes widen, confusion etching across his face for just a second before he realizes what you want. that smile grows before his changes into a pout, "c'mon, darlin', don't make me beg..." he whines, "'cause i will. you want that, right?"

his heart races in his chest, and you can hear the way the metal of the cuffs clink as he tugs at them. you just know that the moment they're off, he's going to pin you down and fuck you dumb. honestly, just the thought had you tempted to uncuff him.

"please, baby, let me cum inside. please. you feel so good, fuckin' me like this." his filthy words have you clenching around him, and he moans, "ah, shit. fuck."

you wanted to make him beg more, just to see how far he'd go. but you were desperate for your own release, so you start to move again. it's sloppy this time. desperate, and chasing after your high.

"that's it. just like that, darlin'." sully pants, "doin' so good."

his praise is what pushes you over the edge, and you let out a soft cry as your orgasm hits you, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as you ride him.

you hunch down just enough to kiss him, and that's what sends sully over the edge. he cums inside you with a groan that you swallow up, your tongue tangling with his as your hands come up to tangle in his hair.

and when you both come down from your respective highs, you uncuffed the man. his hands immediately settled on your hips, finger digging into the flesh there as he catches his breath.

you'd tried moving off him, but he didn't let you.

"don't," he exhales, his breath hot against your skin, "let me stay inside you."

and you do. you're more than happy to, lazily making out with him. he'd gently move your hips every other minute, earning a small whine from you because of the overstimulation.

it's not until you feel him hardening up again that you realized what his plan was, and he was already changing your position. you were pinned down against the bed, one of his hands pinning both of your wrists above you as he started to suck hickies into your neck.

his teeth graze your collarbone, and you shiver.