#I swear i can animate better trust me

[lunafish-artz]

can i get a kiss animation meme alnst

Very low effort animation that took me way tok much procrastination to do

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I LAUGH LIKE ME AGAIN (SHE LAUGHS LIKE YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: four years apart and the ultimate question is about to be answered: do you and dazai really still know each other, or are you clinging to a fantasy of the past? you decide to put it to the test with a game of wits and questions when dazai gets back to your apartment—but as the game drags on, dazai starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. worse, if maybe he would prefer to be wrong.

(wordcount: 14.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, smoking & drinking, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing, im rushing to get this out!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys here it IS - sorry it's late, but TRUST it's worth it. i'm so proud of this fic, genuinely one of the things im most proud of writing. this is technically a part 2 to he's my collar but can be read as a standalone

It takes far too long for Dazai to make it out of the Port Mafia headquarters, with both Akutagawa and Chuuya prowling about like the dogs they are. He wonders if you tipped either of them off—Chuuya, in particular—because the slug had been looking around like he was searching for someone. He thinks you’re entirely wretched for it, knowing that if he got caught, he’d be trapped in that damp and filthy torture chamber until he managed to finagle his way out, and he plans to make it known to you just how entirely displeased he is by the situation. 

The path to your apartment is achingly familiar, and the giddiness in his chest is something he hasn’t felt since the day he left. He knows that he should probably be more careful—he’s still in Port Mafia territory, your apartment spans the top floor of the easternmost building of the five towers—but he also knows that you’re the only one with direct access to the cameras in this building so he’s more reckless than he would’ve otherwise been. 

The floors tick up agonizingly slowly, Dazai swears that there must be something wrong with the elevator because it’s never taken this long before to get up to your place. His fingers thrum against his thigh, and his foot taps the ground impatiently. He paces from corner to corner within the small space like a caged animal. He thinks that maybe he should be taking advantage of the time alone, come up with some better excuses as to why he didn’t say anything to you before he left.

“I wouldn’t have left,” isn’t going to cut it. As true as it might be, it’s not the full truth, and Dazai knows you’ll be able to sniff it out in a matter of a few seconds with a clear head. He’s not walking into a cheerful reunion between old lovers, he’s walking into what’s about to be a stressful game of chess against a strategist whom Dazai has always considered a near-equal, a battle of wits against a woman whose whole life has revolved around political warfare. If he wants to keep his dignity intact and his secrets safe, he’s going to have to be incredibly cautious with what he says to you and even with how he reacts to what you say to him.

Still, he can’t help the giddiness. The excitement. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much that it hurts. He’d thought that over time, the longing for you would go away, but it never did. If anything, it got worse because, over time, the pictures of you started to lack the soothing feeling they used to bring to the aching in his chest. Over time, he started to forget the sound of your voice and the sound of your laugh.

He’d known that you’d been sent away on foreign business not long after his last call to you, but he didn’t think Mori would actually keep you abroad for three whole years. He’d been hoping, maybe, that he could stumble into you one day. Or maybe just watch from afar, get close enough to hear the sound of your voice again. He’s been grossly denied of you for too long, and he knows that it’s of his own doing but that only makes it worse.

When the elevator dings, announcing his arrival on your floor, Dazai is sorely unprepared for the conversation about to take place. He steps into your penthouse, eyes drifting around the familiar vast space.

Like your office, not much has changed since the last time he was here. Your coffee table is still set down a few centimeters too close to the couch in the living room—the same couch he had his first kiss on with you when the two of you were sixteen and drunk on champagne celebrating a successful mission. You still hang your black jacket over a chair instead of properly on a hanger, it’s why it always has a crease on the back—he’d noticed it when you left your office, and he can’t help but smile slightly at the confirmation as his eyes linger on where it’s draped over one of your kitchen chairs. 

You tried to convince him that you’ve changed in the years the two of you have been apart, but Dazai doesn’t think you’ve changed much at all.

You’re leaning against the windows, looking down on the city—he knows you must’ve heard the elevator, but you haven’t bothered to look his way yet. There’s an indecipherable expression on your face and a glass of wine in your hand. You’re still dressed in your suit and Dazai notices there’s a glass of whiskey on the rocks untouched on the kitchen table. He shrugs off his trench coat and drapes it over yours, hoping that the scent of you seeps into it because he’s gone too long without it.

His fingers curl around the glass of whiskey you’d left out for him, and for a moment, he swears that he’s eighteen again. He’s making his way to your penthouse after a long mission with Chuuya, you’re expecting him—you always are—and he can never push away the fondness that squeezes his chest when he finds you lounging back on your couch, flipping through channels to find something to watch, a glass of his favorite whiskey set down on the coffee table next to where your feet are propped up as you wait for him to show up.

He wonders if you even care to remember what his favorite is. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

He makes his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room, and he’s reminded that he’s not eighteen and you’re not waiting for him to show up after a mission because you finally look at him, and his breath catches in his throat.

He thinks you look a bit older now than you did four years ago—to be expected, of course—and there’s a coldness to your eyes that hadn’t been there before. Impossibly, he thinks that you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were when he last saw you, and he realizes again, throat tightening, that even after three years of no contact with you, he’s just as in love with you now as he was the day he left.

He knew it back then before he left, even if he never said it. When he was eighteen and could only feel any inkling of pleasure when he was with you; it wasn’t like he’d never tried to have sex with other people, he’d whore himself out for information at any given chance and slept around frequently after you started dating a civilian to distract himself from the bitter jealousy he felt, but he’d never known how good it was supposed to feel until he slept with you for the first time. When he was seventeen and could only ever feel comfortable in your presence, seeking you out at any given chance when he couldn’t handle being around people anymore; he’d curl up in your office with your orange blanket, napping as you did work, knowing that you’d keep people away from him. He thinks he might’ve even known when he was sixteen when the two of you first met on the streets of the Kanagawa prefecture.

He wonders if you even believed him when he said it earlier—he doubts it, you don’t seem too keen to believe anything he says, and he doesn’t blame you for it. 

But whether you believe it or not, it’s yours—that rotted heart of his, shriveled and shabby, riddled with holes and decay, half-eaten by maggots and worms it might be, but it’s still yours. He thinks that it was meant to be yours since the moment he was born, and it’ll be yours even after the two of you are long dead. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to go without you again—he doesn’t think he can. He knows that despite the tentative ceasefire, the Port Mafia and the Agency are still enemies, but he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to leave you again. Even just the sight of you has condemned him completely. 

Then you speak, and at once, his entire world falls apart.

“I’m leaving again in the morning,” you finally say, tone flat and eyes sharp and shrewd as you look over him. He reminds himself that this is not a reunion, that he needs to get his head on straight if he wants to make it out of your apartment in one piece, but it’s hard. “I was only brought back to smooth things over with the government after the whole fiasco with Fitzgerald and his American cronies. I’ll be leaving for Russia in the morning to meet with Tolstoy and Nabakov. Hopefully, gain some intel on Fyodor Dostoevsky’s plans before the man makes another move on the city.”

He… did not anticipate that you’d be leaving again so soon. Something cold and sharp latches to his heart, like jagged nails ripping it apart. He makes sure it doesn’t show on his face.

“Be careful,” he tells you quietly. “Dostoevsky… he’s not someone to underestimate. Just-Just be careful.”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, “I’ve worked with Dostoevsky before. I don’t need you to warn me about him.” 

Your voice is cool. Sharp. Dazai sighs, knowing that anything he might’ve said to you earlier in the night is lost to you, and he doesn’t know if he’ll have it in him to bare his heart again, only for you to scorn it. He’s not meeting with you as he knows you—as his closest friend, as his lover; he’s meeting with you as the Port Mafia executive. Not the version of you that treats with allies, wining and dining them with glittering eyes and playful smiles as you use your ability to ensure they never turn on the Port Mafia; the version of you that sits at the round table with enemies, with a quick mind and calculating eyes as you decide whether or not they’re worthy of being absorbed into the Port Mafia or if Double Black will be sent out to eradicate them. 

“I told you everything I had to say back at the office,” Dazai tries, and he wonders if you’ll let him get away with it—he doubts it, but it’s worth a shot, and it will at least stall for a few moments as he tries to forcibly turn the cogs in his mind to figure out the best way of appeasing you. “I missed you. I… couldn’t say goodbye to you, not if I was to leave. I…”

I love you.

He doesn’t say it; he thinks he was only able to push it out earlier in the night in the heat of the moment, the orgasm-induced haze fogging his brain enough to let it slip out in desperation to make you give him a chance. And it worked because you gave him a second chance when you invited him back to your apartment, but Dazai doesn’t know how to make the most of the opportunity. He thinks he’s a fool for not preparing for this before getting here.

You click your tongue sharply, lip curling up in something close to disgust, and Dazai is glad he didn’t speak his ‘I love you’ because he thinks he might’ve actually cried if that was your reaction to him saying it.

“The only things you told me earlier in the night were half-truths and sweet talk. I didn’t invite you back to my apartment to hear you beg for another chance, Dazai,” you say coolly, and Dazai desperately misses the sound of his given name on your tongue. The corner of your lip curves up into a half-smirk, eyes suddenly glittering beneath the dim lighting of your penthouse as you add, “Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to it after we talk.”

He thinks the fact that you’re already considering an after might be a good sign. He can feel his cheeks flush a bit at your words, but instead of letting himself get rattled, he takes a step forward, well into your personal space, as he dips his face down so close to yours that his lips nearly brush yours as he speaks.

“I’d beg pretty for you,” he whispers, letting his voice drop an octave as his gaze tracks down to your lips. “I’d even get on my knees.”

Unfortunately, you are entirely unbothered by the proposition. “We’ll see, I suppose,” you say, and then raise your eyebrows, signaling for him to take a step back.

He does, and he feels distinctly put out and rejected by your reaction, but he sighs and asks, “What did you invite me here for then?” 

He very much does not like the way your eyes glitter now—shrewd this time, more amused, dangerous, as if you know the two of you are about to tread down territory that he’s going to be unfamiliar with. You nod for him to follow you into the kitchen, taking a seat at the head of the table and motioning for him to sit opposite you.

He does.

“We can play a game,” you finally concede. Dazai settles back against his chair, fingers still tapping rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, a terrible habit that Dazai has accrued whenever he feels cornered. Not a frequent occurrence, but damning when it is. Your eyes linger on them, and he knows you’ve pinpointed the tell. He forces himself to stop, but from the way your lips curl up, he can tell it doesn’t matter. “Ten questions each. Yes or no answers only.”

Dazai notices that you pointedly leave out any rule about the honesty of each answer—intentional, surely, so he probes.

“How do we determine the winner?” Dazai asks. He finally takes a sip of the fine whiskey you’d poured for him, and his question from earlier is answered. His favorite. There’s a warm feeling in his chest at the realization that you’ve remembered it even after all of these years.

Your lips curve up into a sharper and wider smile, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the soft lighting of your kitchen. The glass of wine in your hands is suddenly more reminiscent of a gun being pointed at him than your choice of alcohol, and he feels as if he’s already made some egregious mistake in your eyes.

“After we give our answer, the other has to decide whether or not it was truthful. In the end, we’ll both see how many the other got right. A test to see how well we still know each other,” is all you say in response. You’re mocking him and his insistence that the two of you are still the same, but Dazai intends to prove himself right. You tilt your head to the side and then say, “The prize is to be determined by the winner. I’ll ask the first question.”

Dazai winks, a lecherous comment already on his tongue about the prize, but the withering look you give him is more than enough to make it die before he can let it loose. He pointedly takes another sip of his drink and sinks in his seat.

He thinks that this should be an easy win. You’re quite the adept liar, but you’ve always had a glaring tell. Well, he amends, it’s glaring to him, at least. Not many others would be observant enough to catch it, and even if they were, only someone with an abundance of experience with you would be able to put it together. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, wondering if your lashes flutter right before you tell a lie. It’s such a simple and subtle tell, so casual that it took Dazai a year and a half to put together, but it was hard to miss once he did.

You hum to yourself as you give off the appearance of thinking about a question, but Dazai knows you better than anyone, and he’s certain that you already have all ten prepared, so he rolls his eyes at the faux show of uncertainty. 

“We both know you know what you want to ask,” he finally says. “Do us both a favor and quit with the theatrics.”

Your lip quirks up in amusement. “And here I was being gracious giving you more time to formulate whatever lies you’ll try to get away with,” you drawl, and Dazai nearly flinches.

“You know me so well,” Dazai sighs to hide how disconcerted he really is. “The question?”

You stare at him for a moment, and your lips curl up into a deceptively soft smile that almost throws Dazai off because, god, he’s missed you. And he knows you’re looking at him like this just for this specific reason because you’re a despicable bitch who knows that he’s always been easily unsettled when people show any semblance of affection toward him, but he can’t help the way he falters.

He tries to brace himself for whatever invasive question you’re about to ask regarding his reasons for leaving. Tries to prepare himself to lie cleanly because he’s sure you’re as aware of his tells as he is of yours. 

Then you ask: 

“Did you defect because of something Oda asked of you?”

Jesus. Right for the throat. You really don’t pull punches. 

Dazai’s throat tightens at the mention of his old friend, but he’s able to keep his expression clear of the sudden pain that your question brings on. You’re watching him carefully for reactions, gaze hawklike as you study his face, and Dazai is not about to let you pinpoint any more of his tells so early in the game.

He figures that this is an easy question; you already know the answer but want to hear the confirmation from his lips, so he decides to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“The truth,” you say, an indecipherable expression on your face. He wonders if you want to ask what Odasaku asked of him, but that’s not part of the game and Dazai has no intention of answering that.

Be on the side that saves people. If both are the same to you, become a good man.

You might laugh in his face—Dazai Osamu, the Demon Prodigy, a good man? The idea is blasphemous, and he thinks it might actually hurt him if you scoff or laugh in response to hearing that, so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t give away more than he has to, hoping that you don’t just straight up ask him.

You open your lips to speak, and Dazai braces himself for the prying question, but instead, you only probe, “First question?”

He wonders if your whole first question and the implications of it was just a means of trying to throw him off because now he’s fumbling trying to remember what he wanted to ask you before you hit him with it. He wouldn’t put it past you to play dirty like that—bringing up his dead friend and his last request just to unsettle him to give you the edge.

“Did we meet during my underground years after I defected?” he finally asks, and yeah, he knows the answer to this question. The missing half of his ear and waking up in the old safe house he used to hide out at with you is more than enough evidence for him to come to a definite conclusion, but he wants to hear it from you.

“Yes.”

Dazai inhales sharply and then murmurs, “That’s the truth.” And then, more loudly and far more affronted, he accuses, “I can’t believe you shot half of my ear off.”

He expects you to toss him a wink and a sharp grin, unrepentant and even finding amusement in his offense, but instead, your expression falters for the first time since he’s arrived. Something strange crosses your face; for whatever reason, his words leave you conflicted and Dazai suddenly feels even more nervous than he already was because now he can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said to you in his drunken state. 

He supposes that’ll have to be another question, but first, he’s going to have to figure out how to phrase it to get a yes or no answer first, without being vague enough for it to be a waste of a question or easy for you to misconstrue.

You hum after a few moments, taking a pointed sip of your wine. Dazai watches curiously—you’re bothered still, you’re not even trying to hide it. He knows you have better control over your facial expressions than this, so he thinks maybe it’s a ploy to get him to start spiraling down a path of useless questions. Put off by his sudden inability to discern your schemes, a part of him wonders if maybe you were right because the him of four years ago would’ve seen right through you right now.

“I’m afraid it had to be done,” you sigh with faux regret, but he can tell from the way the smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes that you’re not into the banter. “Were you able to fulfill Oda’s request?” 

Fuck. This time Dazai can’t withhold the grimace that spreads across his face. He tries to keep his voice light with a deflecting comment, “My, bella, you’re really hitting with the deep questions tonight, aren’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side as you wait for an answer, not giving him any room to formulate a response to your question. He finally sighs and shakes his head, taking a long sip of his whiskey. He wishes he had a pack of cigarettes on him, suddenly desperately longing for the pleasant burn of the smoke against his throat; he needs the buzz badly right now.

As if you could read his mind, you shift in your seat a bit and stuff your hand into the pocket of your slacks. It takes a few seconds but you fish out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, sliding them across the table over to him. If he wasn’t already so in his head over the question you asked, he’d make a quip over the fact that you still know him so well despite your insistence otherwise, but he only pulls out a cigarette and lights it, looking curiously down at the familiar brand.

“Since when did you start smoking these?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back and takes a long drag of it. He exhales slowly and then adds, “Thought you liked the other ones, in the green box.”

“Teal,” you correct, and then frown a bit. “... Switched after you left.”

Dazai’s eyes flutter back open as his gaze focuses on you, wondering if the implication you left up in the air is something he can take at face value or if it’s just another way of trying to get him to lower his guard. But from the way you suddenly don’t meet his eyes, Dazai thinks you might be being honest: you switched because they reminded you of him.

Dazai’s chest suddenly feels heavy again.

“... No,” he finally responds to your second question. “Not yet, at least.”

“... Truth,” you say, and Dazai’s lips curl into a wry smile.

“Unfortunately.” The word slips out before he can stop it.

Your gaze flickers back up to him, curious, but Dazai doesn’t give you the chance to dwell on his comment, asking his next question: “Did I… admit anything to you that night that I wouldn’t have said while sober?”

His fingers tap rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, half-empty now; he’s anxious to hear your response.

“You did,” you confirm.

Dazai grimaces because that’s another truth, and that is not good. But just like how he doesn’t offer any context for his answers, you don’t either. He doesn’t know what he might’ve admitted or how you might’ve taken it—he’s going to have to waste another question on this topic.

“Truth,” he murmurs.

You hum and then ask, “Do you still blame yourself for what happened to him?”

“Come on,” Dazai complains sharply, tossing you a dirty look now. His jaw is tight. He wonders if you keep asking about Oda as some sort of sick revenge for him leaving, ripping open wounds that never properly healed so you can dig your fingers into them and twist around. You don’t look bothered by his outburst, waiting patiently for a response. He lets out an angry sigh, looking away and taking another long drink from his glass and another drag of his cigarette. 

He voices his first lie, “No.”

You let out a puff of air, rising to your feet and making your way over to the opposite counter, you grab the bottle of whiskey and bring it back over to him, topping off his now-empty glass before pointedly holding out your hand. He passes the cigarette over to you, tilting his head back to watch you bring it to your lips—a part of him longs to lean forward, to slide his hand behind your neck and cradle your head as he brings his lips to yours, inhaling the smoke as you exhale it, dizzy off the proximity to you, high off the buzz of the nicotine, just like the two of you would do when before he left.

He refrains, if only barely.

You exhale the smoke, a small cloud billowing around you—Dazai mourns the waste—and then you pass the cigarette back over to him. Your fingers brush his as you do, and a spark shoots through his arm at the touch.

“A lie,” you finally say, looking down at him with a frown. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could’ve done to save him.”

“You don’t know that,” Dazai says tightly, averting his gaze from you as you make your way back over to your seat across from him. “If I’d been faster-”

“If Mori wants someone dead, then they’ll die,” you interrupt him, a grimace on your face as you look down at your wine glass. “Trust me, Dazai, there was no saving Oda Sakunosuke.”

Dazai pauses instead of snapping again, catching the expression on your face. Haunted, as if you’re speaking from experience. He tilts his head to the side and then asks quietly, “Are you talking about your ex-partner? Itou?”

If Dazai remembers correctly, he died on a mission when you turned eighteen. You never told him the circumstances, and he never asked, but it was the first and only time you ever broke down in front of him.

The corner of your lips tightens, “Is that your next question?”

Dazai barely withholds a frustrated sigh. 

“No,” he says quietly, and then asks, “Did I tell you why I couldn’t say goodbye? The real reason?”

He holds his breath now as he waits for your response. One way or another, this question is a double blade: if he did tell you why, then he’s at another disadvantage because he’s going to feel distinctly bare and vulnerable; if he didn’t tell you, he just admitted that he lied back at your office, at least partially. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally say, “Yes.”

The truth. Dazai wonders when you’re going to utter your first lie, if you will, or if you’re trying to make some sort of point by being honest with him. He voices his answer and then waits impatiently for your next question as his mind races.

He desperately wants to know how you responded to him back then. Would you have come with him had he come to you before he left? Or would you have chosen the Port Mafia? He wonders if he should ask, make it one of his remaining seven questions, but he doesn’t know if he has the guts to hear your answer, so maybe he’ll just change the subject.

“Are you enjoying yourself at the Agency?”

For the life of him, Dazai cannot figure out your angle. First, the prying questions about Oda and now asking about the Agency. He doesn’t know what he expected at the start of the game—you’ve always been unpredictable, but even more so now. He’s never had such a hard time reading you or your intentions before.

He starts to feel even more doubtful, wondering if you were right.

Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does anymore.

But this is an easy question, so he says the truth with little hesitation, “I am.”

Dazai swears the corners of your lips curl up into a soft smile, but it’s gone so quickly that he might’ve imagined it.

“Good,” you say quietly. “I’m glad.”

Dazai’s lips part, a warm feeling spreads through his chest at the honesty in your tone. Desperately, he wants to know what’s going on—where’s the rage and the betrayal he expected from you? The hate? Why do you seem… okay with all of this?

Irrationally, he starts to wonder if everything from the office was just a heat-of-the-moment conversation. If now that you’ve had time to sit on your thoughts, you’ve realized… realized what? That you’ve moved on from him? That you don’t care what he does anymore? That you’ve accepted that he’s no longer a part of your life? The warmth in his chest disappears, edged away by a sudden coldness and desperation because he thinks he’d rather die than go back to a life without you.

Even more irrationally, he remembers the comment you made back at the office, the admission that you’ve slept around since he left. Oh god, what if you really have moved on?

He knows his next question.

“The people you slept with—were they all one-night stands?”

He doesn’t want to know the answer unless it’s a yes.

You raise your eyebrows at the abrupt shift in his line of questioning, and then, to his absolute horror, you say, truthfully, “No.”

“What do you mean no?” he asks angrily—he thinks if he was a bird, he’d be puffing his chest out in irritation. He feels antsy suddenly, he needs to move around. He starts tapping his foot against the floor, his fingers against the glass. And again, he thinks you’re a despicable bitch because you only look amused at his question as if he’s not beside himself with righteous fury.

“It’s not your turn,” is all you respond with, and Dazai has a distinct urge to throttle you. Then you ask, “Do you feel like you belong there?”

He halts.

His fingers freeze from where they’re tapping against the glass, his foot freezes mid-motion. His lips part as he’s confronted with the very question that he’s been struggling with for two years now. He wants to yes, if only to maybe be a little spiteful, to rub in your face that he’s somewhere good and he’s somewhere where he belongs, and it’s not somewhere with you. A cruel dig to get back for the aching in his chest at the thought of you being with other people, but he knows that you’ll catch the lie, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to hurt you like that.

Maybe he has grown a bit because the Dazai of four years ago nearly killed your civilian boyfriend when he found out that you were dating someone besides him and then promptly made a show of sleeping around to try to get back at you.

So, instead, he says quite honestly, “I don’t know.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Not a yes or no answer, but I suppose it works. How curious.”

He hates your cryptic comments. Pointedly, he side-eyes you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. Already, it’s nearly down to the nub, so he puts it out on your table, ignoring the distasteful look you give him, and then reaches for another to light as he asks: “Were you in a relationship with any of them?” 

You roll your eyes at his prying, and he cannot hide the abject horror that crosses his face when you say, “Yes.”

“That better be a lie,” he complains, and when you look at him as if to ask if that’s really his guess, he makes a show of pushing out his bottom lip and looking away as he says: “I cannot believe you dated other people. Cheater.”

“We were never even dating, Daz-”

“Yes, we were,” Dazai protests instantly, entirely aghast at your words. “We absolutely were. What does that even mean? Of course, we were dating. Everybody knew it. Ask anybody. Ane-san knew. Gin-chan knew. Chuuya knew. Even Mori knew. We were so dating, you-”

“You never officially asked me to be your girlfriend, which is, unfortunately, the most fundamental step of dating,” you interrupt him, and Dazai stares at you in disbelief.

“I bought you flowers, we fucked exclusively,” Dazai complains, aggrieved. “We were definitely dating, and you definitely cheated on me because we never broke up.”

“If we were dating,” you emphasize the if very pointedly, and Dazai is distinctly put out by it, “then we broke up the day you left without saying goodbye.”

Dazai withers. He has no witty comment to return fire with, so instead, he just takes another sip of his whiskey, grateful for the combined buzz of the alcohol and the nicotine to distract him from the overwhelming guilt he feels whenever you bring up how he left you.

“Do you feel like you belong more with the Agency than you did with the Port Mafia?” 

Your next question is an amendment to your previous on, and it leaves Dazai just as lost.

He wants to belong with the Agency. He does. Desperately. He wants more than anything to feel as at home and comfortable in the light as he does in the dark. He doesn’t want to question his place among them anymore, he doesn’t want to wonder if he sticks out like a sore thumb. He wants to enter the office and feel like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not, just so he can keep his place with them. He doesn’t want to have to fear at every corner that he’s going to revert to old habits, and they’ll see him for the monster that he is: a monster that should have never left the dark crevices that he crawled out from, a monster with blood so black that it strikes fear in even the most terrible mafiosos.

“No,” he admits the insecurity that’s plagued him to the one person he feels comfortable enough with to voice it aloud. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, wondering if the admission will give you some sort of sick satisfaction, if you’ll be happy that he’s not finding a place he can be comfortable in without you. Instead, he decides to rush to ask his next question: “The one you were in a relationship with, did you love him?”

He thinks that the question came across as far more timid than he meant it to be, and his eyes slide shut as he waits for your answer.

“There were multiple I had relationships with—” Dazai scoffs, of course, there were multiple. “—...but no, I did not.”

He lets out a soft puff of air, shoulders slumping a bit in relief. But his fingers are still tense around his glass, waiting for whatever question you’re going to ask next that’s going to dig deep into open wounds, stripping him of all of his masks and armor to force him to lay himself entirely bare in front of you.

“Did you really blow up Chuuya’s car before you left?”

His eyes fly open at the sudden change of pace in your questions, noting the smirk curling at the corner of your lips and the amusement glinting in your eyes. He accepts the olive branch quickly as he gives you a sharp smile and asks: “What do you think?” 

Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle a laugh, and the smile on Dazai’s lips becomes a bit softer as he watches you desperately try to get yourself under control. “You’re insane, you know that?” you finally say, still trying to bite back giggles. “He was so mad. Raged about it for weeks.”

Another question pops into Dazai’s head at the mention of Chuuya, and before he can consider whether or not he actually wants to know the answer to it, he asks: “Speaking of Chuuya, was he one of your trysts while I was gone?”

Suddenly, you are not laughing, and suddenly, Dazai regrets speaking.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Do not tell me-”

“He was,” you confirm.

Dazai’s glass of whiskey is empty. 

He grabs the bottle and drinks right from it, miserable.

“I think I would’ve rather been stabbed through the heart,” Dazai says mournfully, and though he keeps a faux-light tone with you, his throat feels like it’s swollen, and he feels a bit sick to his stomach.

He’s always been jealous of the bond you have with Chuuya. Absurdly jealous, even. You clicked with him quickly—you clicked with both of them quickly, and maybe it was a matter of the three of you being the youngest of the Port Mafia’s uppermost echelon, but Dazai doesn’t want to attribute it solely to that—but the way you clicked with Chuuya was different from how you clicked with Dazai. Two people so completely human locked away in the dark, clinging to one another to maintain some sense of normalcy; your and his casual humanity made Dazai’s lack of it irrefutable and glaring.

Regardless of the why, he never liked how close you were with Chuuya. 

Even before you were dating him—because you were dating him—a part of him had always felt sidelined whenever the three of you hung out together. Not because of either of your wrongdoings but just because it was hard for him to keep up with the two of you. He always felt a bit lost trying to, unable to follow along when the two of you would start laughing at jokes that he didn’t understand even when you explained them to him, when you would share glances with one another that spoke whole conversations he wasn’t privy to. The two of you got along in ways that Dazai would never be able to get along with anyone because there’s just something fundamentally wrong with him at his core. Chuuya, for all of his talk and fear regarding the question of his humanity, has always been so unfailingly human in ways that Dazai, to this day, cannot fathom to understand.

After you started dating him—because you were dating him—it only got worse because he’d see you with Chuuya and wonder if you were better off with someone like him instead. Dazai doesn’t know how to treat you right, clearly. He can’t even treat himself right; and Chuuya has always been the epitome of a gentleman, loathe Dazai is to admit it—Ane-san drilled that into the other boy where Mori only taught Dazai how to be cruel and unforgiving. The line between love and obsession has always been a terribly blurry one for him, and you have always wavered on either side of it—and Dazai, unfortunately, does not love healthily and obsesses so entirely that it would have most people running for the hills. 

For better or for worse, you’re not most people.

In his spiral of insecurity, he doesn’t catch the way your brows furrow as you put together some puzzle pieces. “Dazai,” you say suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts abruptly. There’s an accusatory look in your eyes that he really does not like. “Were you the one that booby-trapped my fucking apartment?”

Dazai snorts.

“You bastard,” you snap at him, and Dazai can’t help but bite the palm of his hand as a means of trying to stifle his laughter. “Mori thought it was a goddamn assassination attempt. He kept me under watch for weeks because of you. I couldn’t leave the towers without half of the Black Lizards with me.”

“Sorry,” he coos, not sorry at all. Dazai, because he clearly doesn’t know when to learn his lesson, then he promptly asks, “Am I better fuck than Chuuya?”

“Jesus Christ, Dazai, get off the topic of Chuuya and my sex life, it’s clearly only upsetting you,” you snap at him instead of answering the question. Dazai wants to argue and retain some dignity; he’s not upset, but then his entire world is shattered by your next words: “I am not answering this question.”

Dazai blanches. He can feel the blood drain from his face. He’d thought this was an easy question to make him feel a bit better. What do you mean you won’t answer? Does that mean Chuuya-

No. Dazai refuses to believe it.

 “No way,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s not a better fuck than me. You can’t possibly-”

“He’s not,” you finally say, and Dazai audibly lets out a sigh of relief. “But if you ever mention anything along the likes of that to him, you will never fuck me again, Dazai Osamu. Do you understand?”

Dazai is too relieved to even argue. “Yeah.”

“No more questions about my sex life,” you say firmly, and Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does agree internally because he doesn’t think his heart can handle any more scares like that. Your eyes sharpen again, and Dazai braces himself. “Were you the one to tell Mori I lied about being sick so I could skip out on the ball Mishima hosted when we were seventeen?”

Dazai’s eyes narrow right back at you and rather than answering, he shoots one of his own questions at you: “Were you the one to tell Mori I had his contact in my phone as ‘ignore’?”

You take his lack of an answer as an affirmative, correctly so. Dazai has no regrets about ratting you out to Mori because he was not about to attend Mishima’s event without you on his arm. He’d rather die. 

“You bastard, do you know the lengths I went to fake being sick? I wanted one night to relax without people breathing down my neck.”

“If I had to go, you had to go,” Dazai retorts petulantly. “I was not about to suffer with only Chuuya as company. You had no reason to tell Mori about the contact name besides to be petty. I fought with Chuuya for weeks because I thought he was the one to do it.”

You choke on a laugh. “Chuuya was so mad, he had no idea what you were talking about.”

“He tied me to a pole and swung me around for three hours,” Dazai complains, but there’s a smile on his lips as you burst into laughter, unable to stifle the giggles that spill from your lips.

“I know,” you wheeze, “I got it on video. We watch it sometimes when we’re bored and can’t find a movie.”

Dazai gapes, and you laugh harder, but for the first time in four years, Dazai finally feels… at home, he feels comfortable in his own skin again. He’s back in your penthouse, he’s drinking his favorite whiskey and smoking his favorite brand of cigarettes, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with him and laughing your head off at his expense, and for a moment, Dazai feels as if nothing has changed: he feels like himself again, eighteen and entirely enamored by the sight and sound of you, and you feel like you again, all of the doubt that had begun to rise to his chest as the two of you played the questions game long gone.

He falls in love with you all over again. Harder this time. Faster. He thinks he’ll fall in love with you again and again every day for the rest of your lives, each time more than the last, no matter how impossible it might seem.

He thinks maybe it’s not that he feels like he belongs with the Port Mafia more than the Agency. He thinks that it’s you. You’re the one he feels at home with. You’re the one he’s comfortable enough to be himself with. You’re the one he belongs with, always has, and always will.

After a few moments, you finally manage to get yourself under control, still giggling a bit as you look back up at him. Your smile is softer now, eyes gentle, more genuine than the smile you gave him before asking the first question. Dazai’s breath catches because when was the last time you looked at him like this—the last time anyone has looked at him like this? A warm feeling spreads through his chest; Dazai thinks he would stay in this moment forever if given the opportunity.

“Are you happy?” you ask quietly

Dazai blinks, startled, and an odd feeling spreads through his chest once your question registers. His lips part to answer, but no words leave them; he draws back as if he’s been slapped, a bit flustered and confused because that’s the furthest thing from what he expected you to ask. He wonders if you’d asked the last three questions to lull him into a false sense of security.

“I-” he starts to say but cuts himself off. “What kind of question is that?” 

He tries to deflect instead of properly answering, frowning, but you only raise your eyebrows, pointedly keeping your lips sealed to let him know that you expect an answer. He shakes his head and then sighs, bouncing the question in his head a few times before going for a cop-out: “When I’m with you? Always.”

You’re not pleased by his decision, frowning as you look away from him—he knows that’s not what you asked, not really, but you should have been clearer with your question if you wanted him to give you the answer you expected. But he doesn’t like the sudden disappointment on your face, it leaves his skin itchy and his chest longing for the soft look to return.

So he sits there, ruminating on the question. Is he happy? He should be, right? He’s saving people. He’s on the way to fulfilling Odasaku’s final request. He has a whole group of people whom he can rely on without having to fear being taken advantage of or betrayed at every corner. He’s happy.

But is he trying to convince himself of it? Why is he still trying to kill himself if he’s happy? Why is there a part of him that feels lonely no matter how surrounded he is by people? Why is it that when he’s at his lowest points, the only two people he wishes he could be with are you and Chuuya? Why does he ache for the days he’d spend dragging the two of you around Yokohama, causing trouble for Mori—the closest he’s ever felt to enjoying life?

“I don’t know,” he finally amends his answer, looking down at the bottle in front of him and the cinders of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He lifts it to his lips again, taking one last drag of it as he tries to figure out what his last question should be.

There’s only one pressing question he has left, but he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to know your answer.

He forces it out anyway.

“Would you… would you have come with me back then?” His voice is quieter than he intended, cracks over ‘me’, and to your credit, you don’t react to the question, expression as eerily still as it was before, as if you’re considering your words.

A yes or no. It shouldn’t take this long for you to answer. Each second that passes feels like an eternity, and Dazai suddenly feels anxious, he doesn’t know why he asked this question because if the answer is no—if it’s no, then…

Finally, you let you a soft sigh, taking a sip of your wine as if to prolong his agony.

Your lashes flutter before you speak.

You lie for the first time that night.

“Yes.”

Dazai’s voice sounds far away as he says, “That’s a lie.”

“I guess you were right,” you say softly, but you sound so distant, like you’re on the opposite side of a long, empty tunnel and not sitting right in front of him. “We do still know each other decently well; you got them all right.”

Dazai doesn’t care. In fact, he would have gladly conceded a loss in this game, and he would’ve gladly admitted that maybe the two of you don’t know each other as well as you used to if it meant that he got the last question wrong because then he would’ve just given you a coy expression and asked if you’d let him get to know this new version of you too. You would’ve said yes, and he would’ve made quite the pleasurable night out of it for the two of you. Instead, he had to insist that nothing has changed, and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he was right and he had known you well enough back then to know not to ask you to leave with him because you would have chosen the Mafia over him. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice you approaching him until you’re leaning on the table next to him, index and middle finger coming beneath his chin to tilt his face up toward you. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes searching your face, but he only finds another blank slate that he can’t read. His breath hitches when your hand slides from his chin to cup his cheek, and he can’t help the way that he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I would choose you over so many things, Osamu.” You speak his given name for the first time in years, but he can hardly find any comfort in it because he knows he’s not going to like what you’re about to say. Your fingers card through the tips of his hair, brushing the dark locks behind his ear as your thumb sweeps over his cheekbone. “But not over the Port Mafia. Just like how you didn’t choose to stay for me.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, voice hoarse. “It’s-”

“It is,” you interrupt, voice deceptively gentle, and he thinks you’re entirely unfair because he can hardly focus with your touch distracting him. He’s missed it so much—he’s gone four years without it, without any type of touch that wasn’t him getting his shit kicked in by Kunikida or an enemy. “You didn’t choose to stay for me. I wouldn’t have chosen to leave for you.”

“Why?” Dazai asks tightly, and he hates that when his jaw tenses, you smooth your fingers over it, and he unclenches it immediately.

There’s a sadder look in your eye now as you give him a small smile. “You know why.”

Of course, he knows why. He feels the hatred deep in his gut as his mind draws back to Mori. Because that’s who the issue is. It’s not the Port Mafia. It’s not your friendship with Kouyou. It’s not even your friendship with Chuuya that’s the issue. It’s Mori and your undying loyalty to him. No matter how much you claim to despise him, bashing him every chance you get, sneering at him whenever he tries to treat you like his daughter, Dazai knows that when it comes down to it, you’ll always choose him. You’d throw yourself on a sword if he asked it of you, and not for the first time, Dazai wants to spit in the man’s face for making you feel as if you’re eternally indebted to him for rescuing you from that warzone so many years ago; for making you feel as if you’re nothing without the Mafia, nothing without him.

“You don’t owe him anything,” Dazai says tightly. “You have to know that by now—you don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation, Dazai,” you sigh, sounding tired. Your hand drops from his face, and Dazai longs for your touch again instantly. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap; he only barely stops himself from reaching out for you. You try to smile as you change the subject, but it hardly meets your eyes, “It’s a tie then. No prize for either of us, hm?”

Dazai is not so inclined to switch the subject. He wants to press on this now that he has the chance; he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to rip you out from beneath Mori’s thumb, but he needs to at least try… but you’re leaving again in the morning, and Dazai also does not want to ruin this night with you. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another.

So, instead, he matches your half-assed smile as he looks up at you and says, “I didn’t say you got them all right. You only said that I got them all right.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did I get any wrong?” you ask, amused.

No.

“Yes.”

“Liar,” you say, but there’s a fond lilt to your tone as you let out another puff of air, the smile on your face finally reaching your eyes as you look down at him. The soft lighting of your kitchen casts a pretty glow over your face, your smile is so entrancing that Dazai thinks he could stare at it forever.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He’s sure he must look like a fool right now, entirely enamored by the sight of you, unable to even fathom drawing his gaze away. He wonders if you’ll protest again, call him a liar, and shift away from him.

You don’t.

The smile on your lips falls, and a wrecked expression crosses your face as your eyes search his. Your lips part to speak, and he waits with bated breath for whatever you’re about to say—he thinks that if you deny him again right now, it might completely shatter all of the walls he’d so carefully built to protect himself.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper as if you’re scared to speak the words out loud—and how can he blame you when the last time you dared to speak them, he hung up on you, never hearing from him again until tonight.

God, the guilt he feels whenever he thinks of you returns with a vengeance, so intense that Dazai starts to feel sick to his stomach. He can’t handle it, so he does the only thing he knows how to do to distract himself from it.

His movements are clumsy as he pushes himself up to his feet, nearly tripping over the leg of his chair, and his fingers feel clunky as he lifts them up to cup your cheeks. For a second, he fears that you might move away from him, but you don’t, so he leans in to press his lips against yours.

There’s no tenderness to his kiss. Dazai kisses you like he wants to consume you, lips sliding messily against yours, blunt nails indent crescents into your cheeks as he holds you close. Usually, he would be embarrassed by his blatant desperation and lack of finesse—he’s never been a sloppy kisser, when the two of you were younger, you would always let out pleased hums into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he worked his lips carefully against yours, tongue sliding against your own as he traces his name on it. 

All of his finely honed skill is thrown out the window now as he kisses you like a man who has been starved for years. He has been starved for years—the quick fuck in your office did nothing to quell the longing he’s felt for you the past four years. He could kiss you for hours. Days, even, and it still won’t be enough. Nothing short of an eternity with you would be enough to make up for the four years he’s been deprived of you.

He lets out a low groan into your mouth as you nip at his bottom lip, hands sliding from your face down to your hips. He’d take you here. Right now. But he remembers the last time he tried to fuck you on your kitchen table, it ended with him choking on the barrel of your gun as you yelled at him for being gross (“I eat on this table, you heathen!”) and he’s not particularly in the mood to set off your temper now that he finally has you in his arms again, so it’s with much restraint that he grabs you by the hips to walk you back into your bedroom.

He can hardly concentrate as your fingers twist the hair at the nape of his neck, soft moans slipping from his lips, muffled against your mouth. It’s only sheer instinct and muscle memory that has him making his way from the kitchen and down the hall. He can’t bring himself to separate his lips from yours for even a second. And he’s a mess because he’s not coherent enough to force himself to breathe properly through his nose, so his lungs are burning and his head feels a bit light, but he doesn’t care so long as it means he can keep kissing you.

Turn left, turn right, second door from the end of the hall. 

His fingers fumble for the knob of your bedroom door, pushing it open a bit too hard, considering the way he hears it slam against the wall and how you tug his hair hard in retaliation. He doesn’t care, moans a bit louder even when your nails scrape his stinging scalp, and you let out a derisive noise against his lips before biting down hard enough to draw blood.

The taste of iron makes a slow smile curl at his lips, walking you back toward the bed, and it’s only when your knees hit the edge that you finally pull away from him. “If you broke my door, you’re fixing it, Osamu.”

Dazai’s smile is lecherous. “I’m gonna break something alright,” he croons, relishing in the way you immediately roll your eyes at him. It’s all so familiar—he can almost pretend that he never left, that nothing has changed since the two of you were eighteen, dumb, reckless, and in love.

Before he can press you back against the bed, he feels your fingers drop from around his neck to his waistband, curling around his belt loops. In an instant, you’ve twisted the both of you around, and suddenly, it’s the back of Dazai’s knees pressed against the edge of the bed as you push him down onto the mattress. He hits the sheets with an ‘oof’ and a hazy smile, surrounded by the scent of you, drowning in the sight of you. He thinks he might be in heaven. 

You shift on top of him, straddling his waist; Dazai’s hands instantly come to rest on your thighs, sliding up the sides to grab your ass and pull you more firmly onto him. He groans when he feels you grind down against his cock, and god, he’s already hard just from kissing you. He hears you snort above him, but Dazai doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

His lips part in a silent moan as you lean down to ghost kisses along his jaw, hands sliding up his chest. He feels you wrap your fingers around his bolo tie and tug it, you let out a sharp noise of distaste against his skin before murmuring: “I hate this ugly thing.”

He lets out a huff of laughter that quickly breaks off into a moan when your lips trail to the spot behind his ear that always makes him writhe. His fingers bite into your hips, pushing you down on him as he rocks his hips up into you—shit, he might be able to cum just from this. His cock is straining painfully against his beige pants, twitching as he grinds up against your clothed cunt. He thinks maybe if he fucks his hips upward a few more times, he might be able to push himself over the edge, but as desperate as he is to chase his release, he refuses to cum anywhere but inside of you.

Plus, he thinks he’ll be shamed to hell and back if he finishes in his pants with you hardly touching him. 

“Then strip me out of it,” he gasps, lashes fluttering as your teeth graze his pulse point right above the edge of his bandages. Fuck, he’d give anything for you to bite down—riddle him with marks he can’t cover so he can flaunt them off to everyone who looks at him. Dazai knows that there are countless men and women out there who’d die to be able to be called yours, he wants them to know he’s the only one who can take that honor. “What’re you waiting for?” 

You hum and then sit back on his hips—he bites his bottom lip raw as you unintentionally put even more pressure on his cock. He’s half dazed out, not realizing that your grip tightened on his bolo tie until you straight up yank it off of him, snapping the string around his neck.

“No!” he complains, watching with wide eyes and parted lips as you fling the now-broken bolo tie off to the side of your room. “Noooo, why’d you do that? I’m going to have to order a new one.”

“Boo-hoo,” you say dryly, hardly paying attention to him as your fingers curl around the hem of his vest, pulling it up over his head, snorting when he lets out a puff of irritation as his nose gets caught around the collar. 

“This is so unsexy,” he protests, rubbing his nose. “Shouldn’t you be more gentle?” 

“Stop wearing so many layers of clothes,” you retort, but Dazai is placated when you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips, lashes fluttering as his eyes slide shut. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss down his jaw, nimble fingers unbuttoning his final layer of clothing. He wishes he wore an undershirt just to watch you huff in annoyance. His breath catches as you nip at his skin and then murmur, “This better?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice wavering as you get down to the last button of his shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and easing him out of it. His body shudders as your hands slide over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Fuck, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched him beneath his clothes, even with the bandages still acting as a layer between the two of you, his nerves are on end, sensitive to everywhere your fingers touch.

He wonders if you’ll pull off the bandages—it’s a line that the two of you only crossed once back then, and although the idea of it has him brimming with anxiety, he longs for the feeling of your skin flush to his.

He almost feels a bit embarrassed when you sit back again to admire him as if there’s not a scar-ridden body hidden beneath the bandages. You look at him like he’s beautiful, like he’s not a monster disguised as a man, like he’s human. Dazai has always felt distinctly seen beneath your stare like you can see through all of the masks he wears and see him for him, and that has not changed over the past four years.

He’s missed the comfort of it. He has. It used to unnerve him back then, thinking someone could see him so clearly when he tried so hard and so carefully to hide himself beneath layers of impenetrable masks, but after going four years alone, with no one for him to turn to, no one he could look at and have them just know what he’s thinking… 

Yosano once mentioned offhandedly that to be loved is to be seen, and Dazai thinks the only time he’s ever been seen—truly seen, down to his core, deep in his soul—is when he’s with you.

It was a very lonely four years without you.

“I thought about you every day,” Dazai tells you softly, the grip on your hips easing up as he looks up at you. “Made a list of places I wanted to bring you and then burned it because I never thought I’d get the chance to be with you again. Stared at old pictures of you all the time, couldn’t sleep without thinking about memories with you. Drank your favorite wine just so I could pretend I was tasting it off your lips.”

You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, and Dazai leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut again. He kisses your palm, humming softly when your thumb runs along his bottom lip.

“There wasn’t a single day I went without you crossing my mind,” you admit quietly and Dazai’s breath hitches as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide and lips parted. He thinks he should say something, anything really, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t seem to mind, luckily, because you only lean down to brush your lips against his again.

This kiss is softer than the last, lips trembling against yours as your tongue dances along his inner lip. He thinks his cheeks might feel wet but he doesn’t dare acknowledge it; you don’t either, only using your thumbs to brush away the tears as they spill over his cheeks.

“Are you really leaving again in the morning?” he finally asks, and he hates that his voice cracks over the words.

You hum in agreement, still hovering over him, still running your thumbs along his cheekbone. His lashes droop shut, but he forces them back open as you speak. “I am. Bright and early. Flight leaves at six.”

His gaze flickers to the left, over to where your alarm clock is set up on your nightstand. 

12:35

He looks back at you, eyes swimming with desperation.

You give him a soft, wry smile. “We should make the most of the night then, hm?”

He doesn’t waste any time on that.

His grip on your hip tightens, and in one swift motion, he flips the two of you around, elbows resting on the mattress on either side of your head as he hovers above you. Your eyes glitter as you give him a coy smile, and again, Dazai falls in love.

Then, he ruins the moment.

“Tell me how you fucked Chuuya.”

Your smile drops. “Osamu, what the fuck?”

“Tell me,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek and peppering soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck. His knees drop to the bed on either side of your hips, holding up his weight as he reaches down to unbutton your slacks, sliding them off your body. A smile flickers onto his lips as his fingers graze your panties—drenched, finally, evidence that he’s not the only one so affected by this. “Tell me. Were you on top? Did he take you from behind? Was he rough? No, it’s Chuuya-”

“If you care so much about how Chuuya fucks, Osamu, how about you go fuck him yourself?” you interrupt him.

Dazai gags.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he says and then returns to his mission, fumbling with his own pants now as he tries to yank them and his briefs off, unable to hold back the relieved sigh when he finally frees his cock, unceremoniously tossing them to the floor. “Tell me.” 

“Why do you care so much, hm?” you ask, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I told you that you were better.”

You’re only trying to deflect from the question and he almost lets you succeed, partially placated, but he stays strong, leveling an unrelenting stare onto you as he waits for your answer. You sigh heavily, and he knows he’s won.

“Not rough,” you say as if Dazai hasn’t already come to that conclusion. Chuuya’s had a crush on you since the three of you were sixteen. Dazai assumed he had grown out of it, but evidently, he was wrong, considering he took the opportunity to sleep with Dazai’s girlfriend—because you were his girlfriend—the moment Dazai was out of the picture. What a little snake. Dazai needs to vandalize his apartment again. Maybe set up a few more bombs. He’s only drawn back from his mental spiral when you start talking again: “He took the lead. Wanted to see my face the whole time, make sure I was okay.”

“How gentlemanly of him,” Dazai says—he’s not bitter. He’s not.

“It was,” you agree, too genuinely.

Dazai squints at you hard. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say. “You asked.”

“You don’t need to sound so wistful.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Osamu, I’m not wistful.”

“How-”

“Are we going to talk about Nakahara Chuuya all night, or are you going to fuck me?” you interrupt immediately, looking increasingly incensed. Dazai only raises his chin at you pointedly—you’re the one that slept with Chuuya. “Time is dwindling, Osamu.”

Okay. 

Dazai’s gaze flickers back to the clock and then back down to you, withering a bit under your irritated stare. He sighs and leans back over you to kiss the corner of your lips, fingers curling around the hem of your panties to slide them off your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his kisses linger against your skin now as he drags his lips down to your jaw. “The thought of him being with you…”

It makes Dazai want to do terrible things. The part of him that he locked up deep within rattles at the bars of its cage, furious and bloodthirsty. The trigger finger he’s been so careful to tame twitches with a desire he hasn’t felt in four years. The thought of anyone being with you makes Dazai sick to his stomach—Dazai is the only one who should get to see you like this, be with you like this—but the thought of Chuuya being with you is so much worse.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Osamu,” you tell him quietly, fingers intertwining with his hair as he nips at your neck. “No matter how much I slept around, nothing was ever able to fill the hole losing you left. Not even Chuuya.”

Dazai exhales, shaky—the guilt returns, and so does the doubt because what right does he have sitting here being petty about what you did while he was gone when he was the one who left you behind without so much as a word? His eyes flutter shut, he spares a few more chaste kisses across your throat before lifting his face back to yours, kissing you gently.

“Let me make up for lost time then,” he says softly.

He doesn’t hesitate now, one hand dropping down to your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist as he presses his hips into you. His breath shudders when his cock slips against your folds, a low moan spilling from his lips. He has to reach down to angle himself properly, tip pressing against your tight hole.

The fingers of his free hands are shaky as he lifts them to cup your cheek. “Look at me,” he says, heat spreading through his abdomen when he realizes you already can hardly hold your eyes open, quick breaths escaping your lips as you try to keep yourself from cumming already. “Look at me, I want to see you.”

Your eyes flutter open, lidded and heavy as you look up at him, and Dazai thinks that maybe he could cum just from the expression on your face alone, inhaling sharply as his thumb drags across your bottom lip. He thinks maybe he should try to get ahold of himself, fearing that if he pushes inside of you now, he might cum on the spot, but his cock is aching so badly that Dazai thinks he might die if he doesn’t feel your heat around him immediately.

It takes all of his strength to keep his eyes from sliding shut as he pushes inside of you, desperate to see the way your face twists and your breath catches. Your lips tremble, chest rising and falling rapidly, he can feel your thighs tightening around his waist, and Dazai groans when your heels dig into his lower back, forcing his hips flush to you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. He chokes, grip on your thigh bruising; his abdomen tightens, and his head feels light.

No way, he thinks, gritting his teeth as he tries to hold back the waves of pleasure threatening to tear through him. He hears you let out a huff of laughter beneath him, and Dazai would shut you up with a sharp thrust of your hips, but he’s still desperately trying to regain control over himself, so he thinks that’s maybe not the best idea.

His forehead drops to rest on the pillow next to your head, lips brushing your ear as he lets out a low moan. He can’t even savor the way you let out a full-body shudder, fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. Fuck, you’re so tight—Dazai can feel your walls tightening around him, spasming, his breath is shaky, and he tries to distract himself by pressing his lips to your skin, mouthing messily at your skin, sucking and nipping and counting to ten as he tries to settle down.

But it’s hard with the soft sighs you’re letting out, the way your fingers catch on his tousled hair, tugging enough to make his scalp sting. His head is so fogged that he can hardly think straight—god, he’s missed this, he hasn’t had the comfort of letting himself go like this in… since he left, really. His mind is always turning, plotting out ten, twenty, thirty steps in advance in fear of making a mistake, slipping up and letting the rest of the Agency see him for what he is, slipping up and their lives being the price just like with Odasaku. It’s only with you that’s ever comfortable enough to finally let the cogs in his brain slow and shatter, lose himself in carnal pleasures, lose himself in you; it’s been four years since he’s last had a reprieve from his own brain.

But he only lets himself slip halfway—tonight isn’t going to be about him, it’s about you. He has four years to make up for and he intends on getting a good start on it tonight.

He pants quietly as he lifts his head enough to bite your earlobe, tugging it gently before pressing his lips to your temple. “I’ve missed this,” he admits, voice raspy and clogged thick with emotion. “I’ve-”

He can hardly get the words out, and his breath catches when your hands slide from behind his head to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He thinks he must look wrecked—he can already feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he knows his eyes are probably glazed over. You still look stunning, a soft expression on your face as you look up at him as if he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you. 

Unfair, he thinks mournfully. 

“What're you still holding onto, hm?” you ask, and Dazai only barely registers your words, sinking into your touch as you brush matted hair out of his eyes. He can finally bring himself to roll his hips—experimental, slow, trying to make sure he can actually move before trying to fuck you. Then you sigh softly, and he’s too out of it to try to make out the expression on your face as you say: “You work yourself so hard… always have. I’ve got you, you can let go, Dazai. C’mon.”

“No,” he hums, but his voice is strained, evidence of his struggle. “Tonight’s about my favorite girl.”

“Favorite?” you tease, lifting your shoulders off the bed to ghost a kiss against his lips that nearly has his hips stuttering—the conversation so reminiscent of one that the two of you had at seventeen it almost makes him smile.

“Only,” he amends quietly, kissing your nose, then the corner of your lips, and then nipping your jawline.

Just when he thinks he’s good to actually start picking up the pace, intent on fucking the thoughts out of you until you forget about your stupid flight in the morning, he catches a suspicious expression on your face, one that has his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks dubiously; your eyes are glittering in a way that he knows from experience is dangerous. 

You don’t say anything, just look pointedly at your thighs, then up to his shoulders. Dazai tilts his head to the side, recognizing what you want, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slides your legs up above his shoulders, folding them to your chest, eyes nearly rolling back at the new angle. Fuck, his hips do stutter this time, breath hitching. He has to readjust again, mentally focus on not cumming on the spot, and then-

And then you say: “He had my legs like this.”

A trick. 

Dazai knows it. 

You’re trying to make him let go of the thin thread of self-control he still has. To give in. To let all of the gears in his brain finally fall apart for the first time in four years.

He knows it.

He falls for it anyway.

Dazai’s jaw tightens, gaze snapping down to you only to catch a goading look in your eyes, a sly smile on your lips that Dazai has every intention of fucking right off your face. He inhales sharply, one hand sliding up your body to grab your chin, blunt nails digging a bit too deeply into your cheeks.

“Yeah?” he says, voice rough. 

Your lashes flutter and lips part as Dazai pointedly jerks his hips up. Your breath catches over a moan, and Dazai knows that this new angle is affecting you just as much as it is him.

“Mhm,” you agree, and just like that, the thin thread snaps.

He snaps his hips into you so hard that your bedframe bangs loudly against the wall behind it, quickly setting a steady pace, nice and deep, quick enough that you can’t even get a breath of air to your lungs before Dazai is fucking it right out of you. Already, he’s so fucked out that his mind is in shambles, one hand settling on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts his hips into you, hitting that sweet spot with each stroke while his other hand, still cupping your face, slides down to your neck.

He doesn’t squeeze—wouldn’t dare to cut off the pretty noises spilling from your lips, moans of his names, choked gasps and cries between each rock of his hips—but the fact that you trust him, him, enough to have his fingers wrapped around your throat is always a quick way make him topple over the edge.

His eyes dart down to your chest, realizing, very unfortunately, that you haven’t taken off your button-up yet. He nearly bites down on his tongue in frustration as his hand comes down to your chest, careful to keep the pace of his hips as he hooks his fingers around the first button just to yank down, popping off half of the buttons of your expensive dress shirt and haphazardly pulling it off of you to toss it to the side before fumbling with the clip of your bra.

“Osamu,” you hiss, and Dazai revels in the way your voice wavers with each thrust, biting back moans. “That’s the second-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. Dazai tosses your bra over with your discarded shirt and dips his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before rolling it between his teeth, and you’re gone—Dazai lets out a muffled groan around you as your back arches up into him, crying out his name, walls tightening around him as you cum on his cock.

“Oh-f-hah-fuck,” Dazai gasps as he rests his head on your collarbone, grip on your waist tightening. 

He has to physically force himself to lift his head, bracing his forearm on the mattress next to your head, desperate to see the way your eyes roll back, he can already feel himself teetering over the edge—the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock driving in and out of your cunt, he can feel your cum dripping down his cock, smeared on his pelvis.

His hand slides behind your head, lifting it from where you have it pressed against the mattress. Beautiful—the only thought that can run through his hazy brain is of you and how perfect you are, lips swollen and bitten raw, parted as pitched moans escape them, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as he fucks you through your orgasm and right into a second. He’s the only one that should ever get to see you like this, with your clever brain fucked right and dumb, body writhing against the bed as you cling to him.

He leans down again, trailing sloppy kisses against your neck, gasping as he starts to feel his high approaching.

“No one makes you feel like this,” he says, or maybe he begs, he’s not sure if he’s making a statement or pleading for you to tell him it’s the truth. “Tell me. T-shit-tell me.”

“No one,” you sob over another moan, and Dazai can feel your pussy fluttering around him—he wonders if he’s already fucked you into a third. Usually, it takes longer. “No one, Osamu, you’re the only one.”

And that’s the only thing he needed to hear to give him that final push. His steady pace shifts into a more erratic one, sloppy and desperate, as he chases a high that’s just out of reach. His moans are muffled against your skin, teeth scraping your collarbone, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts of you. He feels your fingers trembling as you lift them to his cheeks, pulling his face up to press your lips against his, and that’s all it takes: he lets out a wanton moan against your mouth, pressing your legs further into your chest as his hips still against your ass, finishing deep inside of you.

Spots dance in his vision, head buzzing and ears ringing; he swears his orgasm lasts an eternity, body shaking and shuddering above you, letting out breathy moans into your mouth. He can feel his cum dribbling out of you, pooling onto the sheets beneath the two of you, so much of it that you can’t even keep it all in you. 

He doesn’t let his lips leave yours once—the kisses are messy and sloppy, devoid of all of the finesse that the two of you usually have, teeth nearly clashing, tongues sliding against each other’s. 

It’s only when his vision finally starts to clear and his head feels less on the verge of passing out does Dazai finally trails kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck before he finally collapses on top of you, mind entirely gone, like he’s floating on clouds. He pants as he tries to catch his breath, eyes lidded as he absently trails kisses along your chest and collarbone. He thinks the world could be ending around the two of you, and Dazai wouldn’t even have the capacity to notice. For the first time in four years, he really, truly allows his brain to rest.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, eyes drooping shut as he lets himself be enveloped by your arms, drowning in the comfort of your scent.

He doesn’t want to know. He’s scared to look at the clock and check.

“Tonight was supposed to be about you,” Dazai finally complains, burying his face in your chest as he pouts.

You only let out a soft laugh above him. “We have the rest of our lives for that… You deserved a break, Osamu.”

The rest of our lives.

Dazai’s throat tightens, vision blurring a bit at the thought—he can only barely bring himself to respond, and the words that slip out are not what he means to say: “I never thought I’d get to be with you like this again,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I never thought-”

“I know,” you interrupt, voice quiet, a bit shaky. “... I know.”

Of course, you know.

He can’t bring himself to say anything else, so he doesn’t, sinking into your arms and allowing himself the comfort he’s deprived himself of for so long. He almost starts to drift off—and god, he can’t remember the last time he’s dozed off willingly, only able to sleep after drinking copious amounts of alcohol or taking an even more copious number of sleeping pills. It’s not until you speak again does he stir back awake from the brink of sleep.

“What did he ask of you? Oda, I mean,” you finally ask, fingers brushing through his dark hair, lulling him further to sleep.

Dazai thinks that you’re cruel, asking him while his mind is still fogged from the exhaustion following his high, and he’s still half asleep in your arms, trying to regain his bearings. The words slip out before he can think twice, forgetting his fear of you laughing at the idea of him trying to be a better man.

“He asked me to be on the side that saves people… if both are the same to me, he wanted me to be a good man.”

The words dawn on him too late; he can hardly bring himself to look up at you, scared that he’s going to find an amused expression on your face or a derisive sneer. He wouldn’t blame you, he’s thought the same about himself ever since he left the Port Mafia, doubt and self-loathing riddling him with every step he takes in the light. He waits for the scoff, he waits for the laugh, he waits for-

“... I think he would be proud of who you’ve become, Osamu. I think you’ve fulfilled his request.”

Dazai does look up at you now, feeling particularly vulnerable, still scared that he might find a mocking expression on your face but he doesn’t. Only an uncharacteristically soft expression is painted on your face as you look up at the ceiling, a genuine one—a small smile and a look in your eyes that makes his heart feel warm. You don’t notice him looking until he lets slip out:

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. 

(I love you, he means)

“I’ve missed you too,” you say back quietly.

(I love you too)

[mclqren]

SUCCESSFUL ★ MV33

PAIRING ✦ max verstappen x fem!singer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ between you winning an award in the grammys in february and him winning the first grand prix of the 2024 season, you and your boyfriend are proving to be very successful [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ my first max smau!! reader is implied to be american (refers to america as her home). as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo, and 2,100,391 others

yourusername grammys tomorrow 😘

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user1 respectfully, she’s so fine

user2 FORGET MAX PLS COME HOME W ME

user3 I CAN TREAT YOU BETTER 🙏😔

user4 THE LAST SLIDE Y/N WHAT'S THE MATTER

yourusername these are tears of happiness trust me 💗

user5 OMG YOU GOT A REPLYYY SO LUCKY

maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️

yourusername yeah but i’m most excited so 🙄💗

user6 THEIR DYNAMIC HELLO??

user7 okay but MAX IS GOING W HER TO THE GRAMMYS??

user8 he usually does go w her to these events, like how she goes to his races!

oliviarodrigo BABY GIRLLL CANT WAIT 😉❤️

yourusername MY BABYY CANT WAIT TO HANG OUT TOMORROW 😘😘

yourusername

( caption one: omw to the grammys!! (i swear i'm happy to be going my boyfriend is just pissing me off) | caption two: you'd think i wasn't even in the car with him 🙄 )

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 2,819,209 others

tagged maxverstappen1

yourusername guess who won her first grammyyy!!!!! thank you all so so much for ur endless support, im forever grateful! 😘❤️❤️

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user9 BEST GIRL WON A GRAMMYYYY

user10 I LOVE YOU Y/N

user11 wait what category did she win??

user12 best new artist!!

user13 SHE'S STUNNINGGG

user14 max is punching idc

maxverstappen1 so proud of you ❤️

yourusername love you maxie 💗

reneerapp CONGRATS ANGEL 💗💗

yourusername OMG I LOVE YOU!!

user15 oh to be y/n.

liked by maxverstappen1, reneerapp, and 1,865,819 others

yourusername who said i couldn't go to a beach in february?? 🤷‍♀️🏖️

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user20 HOW WERE YOU NOT FREEZING COLD

user21 she IS the moment!

user22 ur life seems so fun omg

user23 literallyyyy

user24 is she not in monaco w max rn??

user25 nooo!! she's staying in the usa for a bit while max goes to prepare for the start of the f1 season :)

reneerapp photo creds? ☹️

yourusername SORRY ANGEL yes photo creds to you!!

maxverstappen1 only you would go to a beach in february

yourusername awww are you missing me maxie 😘

charles_leclerc can confirm he is

maxverstappen1 charles you weren't meant to tell her ☹️

yourusername I'LL SEE YOU (BOTH) SOON TRUST

user26 what did y/n mean in her replies w 'see you (both) soon'??

user27 she always goes to the first gp of the season, so she probably means that!

liked by maxverstappen1, reneerapp, and 2,201,334 others

tagged reneerapp

yourusername coming home's been a blast 🚀

user28 MY TWO FAVS HANGING OUTTT

user29 Y/N IN LA HOW DID I NOT KNOW THISSSS

user30 so are her and renee friends then?

user31 they're very good friends!! when y/n first joined the music industry, renee sort of took her under wing and they become super close! 💛

user32 this friendship is just everything to me

maxverstappen1 cant wait to see you❤️

yourusername likewise max emilian!! 💗

reneerapp I CANT BELIEVE UR GOING TO LEAVE ME

yourusername I'LL BE BACK YOU BEFORE YOU KNOW IT ☹️

yourusername

( caption one: two flights and almost a day later and i’m finally here 🇺🇸➡️🇧🇭 | caption two: back in the garage 🏎️ )

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 1,951,396 others

tagged maxverstappen1

yourusername VAMOS MAX VAMOS 🏎️ (i'm so sorry i don't know any language other than spanish)

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user33 THE CAPTION??

user34 shes so funny stop

user35 Y/N IN BAHRAINNN WE LIKE TO SEE IT!!

user36 the last slide awww

user37 y/n's spirit animal

maxverstappen1 not dutch? ☹️

yourusername read the caption hon im so sorry 😘

carlossainz55 🇪🇸🇪🇸🇪🇸

yourusername SIIII

maxverstappen1 oh.

yourusername shh look away max ❤️

user38 HELP???

liked by yourusername, schecoperez, and 871,301 others

maxverstappen1 unbelievable start to the year, 1-2 finish is absolutely fantastic 🏆👊

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user43 THE CHAMP IS BACK 🏆

user44 AND THE DUTCH NATIONAL ANTHEM PLAYS AGAINNN 🇳🇱

user45 RED BULL REMAINS SUPREMEEE

redbullracing Best start to the season! 👊❤️

liked by maxverstappen1

yourusername WOOHOOO THAT'S MY FUCKING CHAMPION!!

maxverstappen1 ❤️

yourusername RED BULL RAHHHHH

user46 HELP ME Y/N

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 2,104,346 others

tagged maxverstappen1

yourusername HE ONLY WENT AND DID ITTT!! congrats boyfriend, guess we're both starting this year off as winners ❤️

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user47 Y/N BEING SORT OF NICE IN THE CAPTION FOR ONCE?

user48 it usually depends on her mood ❤️

user49 'congrats boyfriend' HELP MEEE

user50 SHE'S SO FUNNY

user51 ugh i love you guys!!

maxverstappen1 love you ❤️

yourusername love you more!! 💗

maxverstappen1 the last slide 🤨🤨🤨

yourusername you can thank pinterest for that one 💗

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[holybibly]

𝔒𝔫𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | Seonghwa x reader

Pairing: Toxic idol Seonghwa x reader Summary: You promise yourself: This is the last time you let Seonghwa use you for his entertainment. But old habits are hard to break. Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, Idol!AU, Angst, Toxic relationship, fuck buddies. Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 5.2k Warnings: Toxic dom!Seonghwa, sub!reader, destructive relationship, emotional dependence, humiliation, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, manhandling, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, spit kink and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet

A|N: At some point I realised that the unholy hours were moving into the mini-ff format, and I think you bunnies will find it much more convenient to enjoy them in this form than just notes. This is really something new to me. I think my bunnies have been wanting to see something with angst for a long time, and now I'm here to fulfil your wishes.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @miyaluvvsyou

You deserve better; you know you do. You deserve someone special—someone who will treat you well and take care of you. You know you can find someone other than Park Seonghwa who doesn't deserve you, someone other than Seonghwa who doesn't care about you, Seonghwa who leaves after himself nothing but rot and destruction. 

Your relationship with Hwa is a corrosive, poisonous acid that eats away at your skin and your feelings until there's nothing left of you, but you're sure that's not enough for him either. 

This relationship is eating you alive, and yet you can't give it up. 

You go back to him again and again and let Seonghwa fuck you until you're unconscious, until you have scrapes, scratches, and bruises, until you have that infamous and overrated 'bad boys will get you to heaven' feeling. But the sweet euphoria of lust after rough animal sex on the edge of the tolerable always fades, leaving an emptiness and a ruination of bitter emotions after he kisses you lightly on the cheek and asks you to get the hell out of his dressing room so he can get ready for the concert.

You swear to yourself that this is the last time you'll let him wipe his feet on you, but Hwa waves his finger at you like the beckoning of an inexperienced, trusting kitten, and you're back on your knees in front of him with your mouth full of his big, thick cock. 

You're still wondering why Seonghwa chose you. Why did the gaze of his gorgeous, feline eyes fall on such an ordinary and unimpressive you?

Maybe this happened because Wooyoung was endlessly flirting with you, or because Yunho was paying you too much attention to you, complimenting you, and looking at you like a lovesick puppy with his big twinkling eyes. Or maybe he just did it because he wanted to, and you were never able to find an explanation for why he was doing it. 

But who were you to him? Just one in a million, and Seonghwa, well, Seonghwa was really something special. 

The gorgeous, handsome, talented, devilishly sexy lead singer of Ateez, known for his charisma and incredible stage presence, with crowds of people always at his feet, wanting to touch the divine even for a second, perfectly knowing that would kill them. Every time he performs, his name goes viral, and the number of fans who say they'd give anything to spend a night with him runs into the millions.

You weren't blind. You saw what the girls he brought with him backstage looked like—the girls who spent the nights in his hotel rooms, the ones he kissed and danced with, the ones he pressed against his hot, lithe body in the darkness of the nightclubs. And yet Seonghwa would always come back to you—not to them, but to you. Maybe that is why you keep coming back to him. Over and over and over again. 

This is Seonghwa, who makes you as special as he is.

He's the shining star, showering you with magical light, but night melts like his kisses, and the rising sun brings a sense of bitter reality. While Seonghwa continues to shine, you remain shadowed, waiting for the star to light your sky again.

It's a very dangerous thing to be so dependent on such a feeling. To be so dependent on a relationship like that and on a guy like Hwa. So you try to distance yourself from him, to create a distance where he can't get to you anymore. You try to avoid him, you pay more attention to the gentle and kind Yunho, and you spend more time with your friends. You feel brave when you shamelessly flirt with Woo, and in general, you try to convince yourself that you don't want to be with Seonghwa any more. You have no desire to have a sense of 'heaven' anymore. Nevertheless, you keep checking your messages, hoping to see what he's been texting you, and waiting to hear that sultry, hoarse "come to me, baby" again as Seonghwa tries to screw you before the concert. 

You're going crazy for him. For a man who was never really yours to begin with. It's stupid, all these feelings, all this possessiveness and childish jealousy, all this pettiness and anger that he's showing you, especially when you think that he doesn't care about you at all. But Seonghwa doesn't like to share; even if he doesn't want you to belong to him, he still does it because he can. You can flirt with Wooyoung all you want; you can blush at Yunho's compliments, but he'll be the one who shoves his cock down your throat; he'll be the one whose touch makes you cum.

Another night, another bar, another group of friends—then you hear the familiar ring of your mobile phone. Seonghwa. You're not surprised at all; Ateez is performing tonight, and he's obviously stressed. You know that Hwa has been acting like a bitch and that he is driving all the people around him crazy. He needs to fuck; he needs to fuck all the anger and tension out of him; otherwise, he won't be able to pull himself together. 

You've promised yourself that you won't be his puppet to relieve stress any more. So you turn down the screen of your mobile phone and go back to having a chat with your friends, but your phone still rings. Again. Once more. And once again. And then Seonghwa stops calling. Your phone goes silent, and the silence seems to swallow up the whole bar to plunge you into an icy, dark depth. You have the feeling that something inside you is on the verge of breaking. 

Your body moves almost automatically, you apologise to your friends, get into a taxi, and try to get to the venue of the show as quickly as you can. As you sit in the dark interior of the taxi as it speeds along the night road, you think about how Seonghwa is too bad for you—poisonous and bitter, like a forbidden lethal drug that poisons your blood—bad blood—a bad habit that you can't get rid of. 

But still, the thought that Seonghwa doesn't want you any more is driving your mind into a frenzy. You just can't bear it if he doesn't ever kiss you again. 

And for the umpteenth time, you swallow your pride and self-respect and choose Seonghwa instead, if even though you know damn well he doesn't want you as much as you want him. 

Before you open the door to Seonghwa's dressing room, you catch a sympathetic glance from Yeosang, and it makes you feel so disgusted, even though you know he's not ashamed or judging you. But you still feel like a dirty whore, running to Hwa at the snap of his fingers, even though you know exactly how Yunho feels to you. And something in the depths of Yeosang's hazel fox eyes almost makes you want to turn around and get the hell out of here. But instead you turn the metal handle and step into Seonghwa's personal dressing room.

As soon as you're inside, Seonghwa is smiling at you with a smug and victorious smile, stretched out on the couch with his long legs stretched out. He's gorgeous, as he always is, but there's something about the way his entire body is wrapped in black leather, chains, and straps that almost makes your knees weaken and your mouth fill with drool. 

"Here's my baby girl. Seonghwa pulls himself up from the couch and approaches you slowly, like a large, graceful cat. All his movements are refined and calculated, as if one wrong move could scare you away. "I knew you would come; my doll always comes back to me. Doesn't she? But I must say you had me worried today, baby, and I don't like that at all." He purred velvety and pulled you to him for a deep, dirty, but too short for your liking, kiss before pushing you roughly against the closed door. "My little pet must never forget who her master is. To remind you, I'm going to fuck you harder than usual tonight, doll."

You just nod and let him do what he wants. Seonghwa laughs grimly and presses his whole body against you, and you can clearly feel his hard-on as he presses his hips into you even harder. 

"We're going to have a lot of fun tonight, baby. And we'll take it slow; I'm going to fuck you so good, doll, that you'll feel my cock in your little cunt for days." Hwa whispers sultrily and hoarsely into your ear before he pulls away from you and starts to unbuckle his trousers. With his long, graceful fingers, he skillfully pulls the leather strap out of his trousers and wraps it around your neck like an improvised leash. 

There it is again; he loves to humiliate you so much to show you your true "place,"  but still you happily fall to your knees to please him.

You raise your wet, puppy eyes to him and look up at Seonghwa through your fluffy eyelashes before you begin to pull his impossibly tight leather pants down from his thighs. Of course Seonghwa has no underwear on; he's always ready to fuck, and somehow you're not surprised at all. 

Everything about him is awesome, even his cock, so damn ideal, so perfectly long and thick with those deliciously swollen veins and reddened, wet with pre-sperm head;

You curl your palm around the base of his cock and run your tongue along the wet, velvety length, sucking in bitter drops of pre-cum.

Seonghwa purrs contentedly, rolling his eyes in pleasure and tossing his head back as you run your tongue along the thick, swollen head of his cock.

"Fuck, yes, like that's." You practically stop breathing for a second, admiring the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy, slow breathing, and the beads of sweat run down the length of his seductive neck; you want to lick them off with your tongue. 

You hum softly somewhere in the back of your throat, sparks of excitement running down your spine and your stomach clenching at the soft purring of his voice and the rough pressure of the leather strap around your neck.

Hwa growls, harder tightening the belt and cutting off your oxygen supply almost completely as you insert the tip of your tongue into his oozing slit, licking and circling around the spongy crown.

"I always knew you were the ultimate filthy slut. And when it comes to sucking me off, you always live up to my expectations." Seonghwa spoke, his voice slightly choked and broken. 'Now are you ready to be a good girl and swallow my cock all the way down?" He pulled harder on your belt, bringing you closer to him, and you immediately relaxed your jaw, opening your mouth obediently for Seonghwa's dick. "Careful with your teeth, bunny." That was the only warning you heard from him.

You know exactly what's going to happen next, so you relax your throat completely and take a deep breath through your nose, allowing Seonghwa to slide his cock into your mouth unhindered. The slide is smooth and familiar due to the copious amounts of pre-cum and drool that coat its silky length, and your lips stretch out prettyly around the thick, hot cock so that you can take in its entire girth in your mouth. 

Seonghwa hisses like a cat as your teeth lightly scrape the sides of his sensitive cock as he penetrate deeper and deeper. The pain is deep in the muscles of your neck, and you can feel small jolts of discomfort on the sides of your tight jaw as the wet, swollen head of his cock rests against the back of your throat. His thick, heavy cock rests all the way on your tongue before you swallow, which allows Seonghwa to penetrate even deeper into your throat.

"Oh fuck, that is so hot. I can see the bulge of my dick on your neck,  baby." Hwa moans lewdly, and what he says turns you on more than you'd like to admit. 

Your pussy clenches, sweat begins to collect under your knees, and your thighs tremble with the need to move to find some friction that will ease the growing pain between your legs. You can almost feel how your clit is tingling with excitement. You let out a helpless whimper—a hoarse, muffled sound as your tongue flicks along the underside of his shaft. 

"So cutie." Seonghwa chuckles wickedly and finally begins fucking you in his mouth. He still holds your improvised leash tightly and has complete control over your breathing. The pace of his thrusts gradually increases, getting faster and sharper until he begins to thrust roughly into your throat, pulling you as close to him as he can with the leash until your pretty face is actually pressed against his flat, embossed belly. 

The smell of his skin is spicy, with a sweet hint of vanilla. The heavy musk of his perfume is earthy and intoxicating. The bitter saltiness of his pre-cum, his hot, velvety cock throbbing in time to his thunderous heartbeat as you reflexively gulp around him—it is enough to make you tremble with desperation, with the desire to feel him cum down your throat, to feel the taste of his pleasure. And it is this sweet yet pernicious desire that drives you to continue to pleasure him, even in the face of all the shame you feel about it. 

You struggle to keep eye contact with him, dabbing away the tears as he stares down at you with all his majesty, like some ancient pagan deity who brings nothing but torment and destruction. Your drool drips from your mouth onto the cold dressing room floor, running down his balls and bubbling at the corners of your lips. The sight is disgusting, but it only seems to turn Seonghwa on more, and through the squelching, wet sounds, you can hear him moaning hoarsely, "Take it, baby," between heavy sighs and wheezes, and you're more than happy to oblige. 

Your head becomes light and starts to spin from the sudden loss of oxygen as he suddenly tightens the leash. You are catastrophically short of air, the walls of your throat spasm as they flutter around his cock, and tiny darck spots appear in your eyes. 

It seems like an eternity before Seonghwa is completely out of your mouth, long strands of saliva mixed with his pre-cum stretching from his thick, swollen head to your lips. Through your tears, you can even see the slight sheen of your pink lipstick covering the velvety length like icing on the birthday cake.

You gulp for air, desperately trying to fill your lungs with oxygen, but he doesn't give you enough time to breathe, shoving his cock back into your mouth almost immediately, the movement rough and fast, the head almost hitting the back of your throat. 

"Fuck, baby!" Seonghwa curses, his voice dropping a couple of octaves to become rough and sultry, and you can even detect a slight hint of satoori in the pornographic tone of his voice. 

His body trembles slightly with tension as he feels the narrow, slippery walls of your throat tighten around him once more, like a silk vise, milking out all that you are able to take out of him. Mentally preparing yourself for when he starts to move again, you concentrate on breathing through your nose and letting Seonghwa warm his cock deep in your throat. 

"Feels so damn good, doll. I always knew that that pretty mouth of yours was made for sucking on my cock'. You swallow weakly, letting his cock slide deeper into your throat, letting Seonghwa know you're ready for him to start moving again as the animal panic inside you subsides, leaving a tingling sensation of pleasure in your limbs and a throbbing cunt. 

And then Hwa begins to fuck you down your throat with all his strength and passion, entering you sharply and roughly, his balls slapping against your wet chin with every thrust. He mercilessly uses your throat as a toy, dragging his thick, veiny length between the slippery, narrow walls of your throat until, at one point, the head of his cock slips into your gullet, causing you both to gasp for breath. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck baby, you're driving me crazy...' Hwa growls, tightening the leash. "My favourite slut, you love sucking my cock more than anything, don't you?" Seonghwa's gaze was so hot as he watched his cock bulging out from your throat. He couldn't take his eyes off your stretched neck. You looked so damn beautiful when you were being used. "Such an obedient girl for me, my sugar doll." His praise sends a liquid fire pulsing through your veins, and the lust burns through your insides until you feel a hot throbbing in your clit. Your slime seeps through your panties and you feel so full and so empty at the same time. You try to shake your head to the beat of Seonghwa's relentless, fast thrusts and cling to his hips with your fingers to pull him deeper into your face, faster, harder. You want to feel his cum rushing down your throat.

And all this effort just to hear more of that sweet poison pouring out of his lips like ambrosia. Seonghwa is poisoning you, you know it, but you're too deep in his web to be able to give him up. 

He needs a few more thrusts before he decides to come out of your mouth in its entirety. All of a sudden, Seonghwa is crouching down in front of you, holding your face in his palms and running his thumbs over your hot, flushed cheeks, smearing more drool and mascara all over your face. 

"You're always so good to me, doll. So obedient, so lovely, the best girl I've ever fucked in my life." His words leave scars on your skin that you're sure everyone can see. Sharp, bleeding marks to cement his claim on you. So that even when he no longer needs you, you'll always remember that you belong to him. "Only mine..." Seonghwa snarls, his sweat-soaked forehead resting against yours, a beautiful, almost demonic grin spreading across his swollen lips. 

You watch in fascination as he licks his fucking, sensual lips, leaving them glistening with his saliva. His big hand runs through your hair and down the back of your neck, until it is squeezing the back of your neck in a painful grip that makes you feel dizzy. 

"Open...' He whispers to you, and you comply. Your mouth opens obediently, soft tongue protruding, waiting for the warm, thick glob of his saliva to land on your slippery appendage. 

Seonghwa is almost shaking, moaning softly as he sees it melt against your pink muscle, his cock twitching between his thighs. You don't even have time to close your mouth as he greedily licks your chin, collecting all the drool and his own pre-cum before he pushes his tongue into your mouth and kisses you wet and dirty. He only stops for a moment to spit into your mouth again and seal your lips with his own in another lewd kiss. 

You whimper into his lips and look up at him from under your wet lashes to meet his famous siren's gaze. His eyes are practically black, the dilated pupils having completely engulfed the gleaming chocolate irises like a demonic veil.

"That's my good girl," Seonghwa breathes out and slides his saliva-slicked lips over yours.

His other hand slips between your thighs, and you squirm as you feel his fingers slide along the wet edge of your panties. He runs his fingers along the silky folds of your cunt, teasing and savouring the viscous moisture of your arousal that coats his knuckles with a transparent glaze. 

"I'll fuck you now, baby." His voice—a low murmur, vibrating in his chest and penetrating your pussy, making it clench around nothing. 

You let out a faint hum of agreement, ignoring the meaning of his words and instead rocking your hips to try and get more of the delicious friction of his fingers on your wet pussy. 

You were desperate to feel those long, ringed fingers stretch your tight hole in as pleasurable a way as possible. Seonghwa seldom fucked you with his fingers, preferring to shove his thick cock into you straight away, but when he was in the mood, you squirted for him endlessly. He loved to see you writhing and moaning as the clear streams of fluid poured out of your cunt like a waterfall. Sometimes he would even be able to lick you afterwards, lapping up all of your juices as if he were dying of thirst and only your cunt could satisfy him.

The time you come back to reality is when Seonghwa suddenly gets up on his feet and pulls you up behind him. Immediately, he turns your back to him and presses your body against the coarse wall. Seonghwa presses himself against you with his whole body, his hot, heavy cock touching your naked buttocks, and you hope that he won't fuck you in the ass this evening. The memories of last time are still too vivid in your mind, and let's say it wasn't the most pleasant experience for you. Your hopes are fulfilled when you hear the sound of the lace being torn before his two fingers enter you at the base. Acceptance isn't difficult at all, and apart from the fact that you're so damn wet right now, it's almost routine for you, considering how often Hwa fucks you. 

"You always are so wet for me, doll. You can't wait to get my cock in you, can you?" Seonghwa whispers in your ear as he runs his fingers over the silky walls of your pussy and makes you see the stars. The cold metal of his rings cools down your inner heat a little and gives you some relief, even if it is only fleeting. "Beg for it, doll. Beg for my cock or you're not going to get any." 

"Please, Hwa, I want your cock so badly. Please fuck me, please take me like the slut that I am. Use me like a toy." You whimper as you squeeze his fingers into your pussy and arch your back against him. Your cheek rubs uncomfortably against the rough wall of the dressing room, but you don't care, you need Hwa to fuck you. You want to go to that goddamn heaven, even if you have to go straight to hell afterwards. 

"Whatever my doll's wishes are." Seonghwa suddenly pulls his fingers out of you with a loud, crunching sound and immediately replaces them with his cock. He enters you with a one sharp thrust until his balls are pressed against the soft underside of your buttocks. Seonghwa spends a few moments savouring the sensation of your hot walls enveloping his cock, pulsing and contracting around its massive girth before he begins to move. 

The first thrust of his hips was enough for you to make your legs go weak at the knees. God, once again you're convinced: Seonghwa knows exactly how to use those hips. Smoothly rolling over and over again, getting harder and harder until it becomes a steady, rough but deep rhythm. You let out a soft, panting moan with each hard thrust, your eyes rolling with pleasure and your legs shaking as you fight to hold your position and keep from falling to the floor. You feel Seonghwa everywhere - in your pussy, in your thoughts, in your heart, and the way he presses his body against yours. One hand grips your thigh, digging his fingers into the soft flesh until bruises start blacken on the skin, the other next to your head against the wall, almost cutting you off from the world. You're completely surrounded by Seonghwa, trapped in the cage of his body, and if you could, you would like to stay here forever. 

"You're such a dirty little girl. What do you think Yunho would think of you if he could see you now? Would he still be in love with you like a puppy, if he saw how I made you my toy by fucking you on my cock like a fool?" As he whispered this to you, Seonghwa pressed his chest against your back, his hot breath touching the sensitive skin of your neck. 

'I, I don't know, Hwa...' You mumble incoherently, completely lost in pleasure and feeis of Seonghwa, he could call you the most insulting names in the world right now and you wouldn't care. 

He doesn't say anything else, but instead he starts to leave wet, purple hickeys on your neck, which penetrate deeper and deeper into your soft body. Everyone can probably hear exactly what the two of you are doing - the sounds of sex are always recognisable - wet, dirty and fucking loud. And to top it all off, Seonghwa liked to show off, he wanted everyone to know how well he was fucking you. 

You start to feel the knot of pleasure inside of you getting tighter and tighter, letting you know that your orgasm is just around the corner. Which you immediately tell Hwa about.

"God, Seonghwa, I'm going to cum". You are whimpering.

"Do it doll, cum on my cock like a good girl". He growls, jerking your hips with such force that your back arched in pain. The change in position has forced his cock into you at a new angle, the thick head hitting a super sensitive cluster of nerves each time, sending you to heaven with each sharp moves of his hips. 

Your orgasm hits you with such a force that you can almost taste it on your tongue. Your whole body begins to tremble. Overwhelming hot pleasure flows through your veins like boiling lava as the shroud of euphoria overtakes you and you feel yourself beginning to lose touch with reality. But Seonghwa continued to move, ignoring your whimpering and plaintive squeals.

"What a good girl you are." He praises you and leans down to kiss the curve of your neck, it's position that allows him to increase the amplitude of his thrusts as he fucks you deep and hard. Seonghwa really knew how to fuck you into unconsciousness, how to fuck you so well that you wouldn't be able to think of anyone else. 

"You like being a little slut for me? Don't you? You are just a toy for me to use for my own pleasure. Always so ready." With these last words, his thrusts became sharper and more aggressive than they had been before. "I'll just use you as a cocksleeve because that's all you are. My beautiful slut that I can use however and wherever I want.". 

You could feel how the overstimulation was hitting you; it was almost burning you from the inside out, mixing the pleasure and the pain into a searing, intoxicating cocktail. But if Seonghwa had any intention of taking advantage of you, you were at his disposal without any objections. Hwa pressed his chest against the back of yours once more, his soft lips touching your neck as he did so. 

"God, I'm going to fill you up, damn it. You'll take all my cum, and everyone will know you're mine." He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You sob and feel his hot, viscous cum filling you as you writhe weakly in his arms. 

"Seonghwa, I feel so fucking good with you." You groan; turn over your shoulder to look at Seonghwa.

Fuck, he looks like he is completely fucked. Hwa's face is almost glowing from the experience of his orgasm, and he's giving you the most unbelievably demonic look he's capable of. You want to say so much to him; you want to beg him to never leave you alone, but instead you swallow your feelings and turn your back on him.

It takes a few moments for him to recover before he is able to come out of your pussy completely. Hwa watches in awe as his cum begins to drip from your distended cunt, your hole still clenching around nothing and spurting out the viscous milky liquid. He scoops up his cum with his fingers and smears it all over your swollen labia before shoving it back into the hole he just used. 

When you start to whimper and wriggle, he finally stops playing with his cum and calmly walks away from you to his makeup table to check on his mobile phone how much time is left before the show starts, while you fall to the floor in exhaustion. 

The sweet euphoria of pleasure, mixed with the adrenaline, gradually gives way to a cold emptiness and bitter disappointment. You feel so used by him. 

"Shit, I need to get ready. Can you leave now, baby?" Seonghwa says as she starts to fix his hair and looks at his reflection in the mirror. 

'You know, Hwa...' You start to say, but you stop yourself when he turns around in your direction and looks at you with big, shining eyes that seem to have the sparkle of a million stars gathered in them. He has a relaxed look about him, so calm and collected, so different from the Seonghwa you saw an hour ago. 

"What is this, a doll?' He asks, tilting his head to the side like a curious kitten. 

'Nothing at all; I wish you had a good show.' You say as you get up on your wobbly legs, straighten your clothes, and then walk out of his dressing room, shutting the door behind you with a tight flick. You barely manage to hold back the tears as you push your way through the staff and other idols laughing and chatting as they wait for the show to start. Somewhere in the crowd, you notice the tall figure of Mingi arguing with Wooyoung, and you duck your head to avoid being seen by them. 

You reach the rescue door with the bright red 'Exit' sign, and finally you allow yourself to give free rein to your emotions.

You swear to yourself: This is the last time you'll do this. You swear that you'll never let Seonghwa take advantage of you again. 

It's too bad though that old habits die hard. 

[boydepartment]

it’s cold in here - nishimura riki x gn! reader

you and your annoying coworker at the bakery get accidentally locked in the freezer | masterlist | wc - 350 | part 2

nishimura riki was the worst fucking coworker on the planet. he would finish frosting the cake but then not tell you he was done with it. so he would put the cake in the chiller and not tell you it was done, so you would get behind in decorating the cakes and then that would put the orders behind.

the worst part is he would PURPOSELY put you behind so you looked bad. especially to your sweet manager whom you never wanted to disappoint…

but you weren’t any better, you would point out to your manager the mistakes in riki’s frosting job on the different cakes.

today was a slow day and you weren’t doing anything at work, the bakers went home so it was just you, riki, and two other workers who work the front. your manager was out doing deliveries. you grabbed one of the tickets and went to the freezer, you saw the cake was due in an hour and it still wasn’t frosted.

sighing, you walked up to riki, “hey have you frosted this cake?”

riki looked up from his phone, “yes it’s in there. i’m frosting cupcakes right now. leave me be.” riki quite literally waved you off and you stood there in shock

“no it’s not.” you stood there irritated

the tall man looked at you and scoffed, “it literally is. now leave me alone.”

you looked at him, “no the fuck it’s not. now stop making my fucking life harder and show me where it is then.”

riki’s eye twitched and he walked to the freezer and you followed him. he had on large jackets, he was in the freezer a lot getting cakes back and forth.

you stood by the cake rack with him with your arms crossed.

“see it’s not fucking here.”

riki kept looking around and looked genuinely confused, “i swear i did it…”

“i don’t know maybe one of the girls in the front took it.” you took a deep breath, you saw the breath that left you. it was freezing.

“yeah what the fuck ever. i’ll just do another one.” he turned to the other cakes and grabbed an unfrosted one. you mumbled a thank you and turned to leave the freezer.

but the door wouldn’t open…

you blinked and tried to push the door open again…

riki stood behind you and scoffed, “you’ve opened this door a million times- move.”

he gently moved you out of the way and tried to open it, but the door wouldn’t open.

you started to panic and he looked at you, “y/n do not cry in here you need to trust me it’s going to hurt.”

you looked at him your eyes glossing over QUICK. he set the wrapped unfrosted cake down and used his sleeves to cover your eyes. he spoke like he knew you shouldn’t cry in here.

“if you cry in here the contrast from your higher temperature tears might hurt with the cold.” riki spoke, he didn’t sound irritated at you for once.

“we’re gonna die in here! there’s so much i wanted to do, i wanted to travel and get married and have a ton of animals, maybe even get a masters degree and-“

“well you’re doing great with that by working a part time less than minimum wage job.” he spoke very unamused, you smacked his hands away.

“why do you hate me so much!?”

he sighed and took out his phone, he tried to call your manager, jihyo, and she wouldn’t answer.

“do you have the girls who work the fronts number?” he leaned against the side of the wall then immediately stopped because it was too cold.

“no i don’t they just got hired and they’re like 2-3 years younger than me and you.” you deadpanned and looked away shivering. riki sighed loudly and the next thing you knew his jacket was wrapped around you. your head whipped to him.

“wh-“

“don’t.” he put his hand up, “and i don’t hate you. you’re just annoying.”

you looked at him and sighed, opening your phone to text your manager. explaining the situation. riki walked to the over side and took a couple of boxes with baking material in them and sat down. you begrudgingly sat down next to him.

“you can scoot closer to me.” he mumbled, you listened, you were freezing cold so you went right next to him, “i’m more used to being in here than you.” riki said and took a deep breath.

“shouldn’t we be moving around to keep your bodies warm?”

he looked at you funny, “what the fuck are you going to do? jumping jacks? absolutely not you’re going to slip and fall on your ass. then you’re out for a week or two and we lose our best- our decent decorator.”

you looked at him, “best decorator…?” your lips curled into a slight smile.

“whatever. i don’t know how you do it or make those stupid decorations so i have to applaud you..” he mumbled and nudged you.

the freezer fans stopped and it was silent, only cracks from the cold. your breaths being able to be heard just as well as being visible.

“im sorry for not telling you when i’m done frosting.” riki spoke, “it’s stupid and i did it for a stupid reason.”

you looked at him, “yeah i’d get behind and it makes me look bad and keeps me running back and forth and-“

“i just wanted you to talk to me more.” he said and looked at you. his cheeks dusted pink from the cold.

“what..?” you asked and looked confused, you huddled more into his jacket

he took a deep breath and lolled his head back, “i just wanted you to come to the back of house more and talk to me.”

your jaw dropped slightly, “i do go back-“

“yeah you talk to chris.” riki mumbled, “baker bahng.”

“i didn’t think you wanted to talk to me…” you frowned and looked down at your hands, “i get scared to make friends sometimes. and you didn’t look like you liked me..”

“i know, i’ve heard you talking to jihyo about it.” riki said, “i overheard you…”

your eyes went down to your hands, “i’m sorry if i wasn’t welcoming when you got hired.. your first day was a holiday and i was stressed.”

“it’s fine… i didn’t make it any better…”

it was awkward in the freezer after that, you both sat in silence and it didn’t help the fans were on. you got up and tried to knock on the door for someone to let you out.

“i’m sorry if i weirded you out…” riki stood up and walked by you.

you looked up at him and he put the hood over your head, your heart beat sped up a little and your eyes went to the freezer window again, “you didn’t.. i’m glad you told me and we can start over..”

riki nodded and repeated you, “start over.. yeah.. actually no..”

you felt your heart stop. you thought he now truly hated you.

“i don’t want to start over, because i fucked up and it was my fault. i wanted to be your friend and close to you and i thought you wanted nothing to do with me and so i thought you were entitled,” riki took a deep breath, “it was stupid and i’m sorry.”

“you can still be my friend..” you mumbled and looked at him, he really was good looking…

riki looked down at you, his eyes boring into yours, then he started scanning your face, “could i be more?”

a split second later jihyo came in rushing, she apologized to you both and just like nothing

you both went back to work…

[aothotties]

Sneaky link w/ Best Friend!Eren

Warnings: MDNI, reader is a tease, swearing, unprotected sex, bathtub sex, multiple orgasms, light choking, squirting, cream pie, Eren and the reader say I love you.

Word count: 1874

________

“Alright lil mama, what do you want to do next?” Eren asks you before stuffing his face with cotton candy.

You look around at all the attractions and rides at the theme park, you two have been here since noon and basically did every damn thing.

“You can try and beat me at basketball again.” He suggests with a smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes and brush him off with a wave, you know better than to embarrass yourself like that. You smile as you stop in front of one of the games.

“Win me a stuffed animal, and I mean one of the big ones. Go on” You step to the side and take the cotton candy from him.

“You know good and well I’m not good at darts.” He says with an attitude, he pushes his sleeves up and ties his hair back.

“Oh you’re so damn dramatic Eren, I would’ve been halfway through by now.” You playfully brag and he shakes his head.

“And that’s your problem, you’re always in a hurry.” He taps your nose and steps up to the table

.You watch as he focuses on the balloons in front of him before he releases one in the direction of the board.

POP!

You watch in shock as the dart pierces the balloon with ease, a smirk appears on his face and he throws the second dart.

“That’s two for two princess, better pick out which stuffed animal you want.” You playfully roll your eyes, and look at all of the options while he finishes the game up.

“Congratulations! You’re the first person all day to get all 5 in one go. You can pick from wherever you like.” The man behind the stand says.

“Well baby doll, what do you want?” He wraps an arm around your shoulder,  you point to a small dog and he looks down at you confused.

“What?” You ask, moving from under his arm to stare up at him.

“I managed to knock all five balloons out at once and you want that little ass dog? Sir, we’ll take the big teddy bear at the top. Thank you.” He looks down at you and shakes his head.

“I thought you said I got to pick?” You try to hide your smile by looking down at your phone.

“I thought I could trust you to pick.” He mumbles, he grabs the bear from the man and gives him a smile. 

He takes your hand in his and begins walking towards the parking lot. You rest your head on his arm and he smiles at how cute you are.

“Do you have any plans after I drop you off?” He knows your routine like the back of his hand, but he loves to hear you repeat it.

Get inside, run a bubble bath, pour a glass of wine or smoke (sometimes both), lotion and moisturize then watch Criminal Minds before falling asleep. 

“I feel like you know what I’m going to say.” You look up at him and he nods in agreement. 

You two arrive to his car and he opens your door for you, you chuckle and get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“You’re being overly friendly right now.” You run your fingers through his long brown hair and he leans into your hand.

“Friendly isn’t what I’d call it, but to each their own.” He teases and you roll your eyes at his statement.

“If you want to have the feelings talk, I am all ears.” You challenge him and he seems to lose his voice all of a sudden.

“Exactly, now hurry up and take me home. Those lavender bubbles are calling my name and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” You kiss his lips and he closes your door carefully.

He sighs to himself as he walks around to his side of the door. He knows you’re right, you both know the feelings are there. He’s just second guessing himself.

He pulls himself out of his deep thought and gets into the driver's side, he stuffs the teddy bear into the back seat and you laugh into your hand.

“Poor thing, he’ll be alright. Let’s get you to that bubble bath.” He puts his seatbelt on and begins the drive to your house. 

It took about 45 minutes for you to get home from the fair, you and Eren both had to pee a total of 3 times on the way.

“Alright, no more damn lemonade for a month.” You say as you walk inside the house with him.

“Yeah, luckily for us fairs are only every few months.” He sits on one of the kitchen stools and watches you shuffle around the living room.

“So you can help yourself to the kitchen and make yourself comfortable.” He stands up and walks over to you.

“You act like I’m not here three times a week.” You laugh and nod your head in return.

“I guess you are here all the time. I didn’t even notice.” You step closer to him and play with the end of his shirt.

He watches you closely and waits to see what you do next. You pull him down so your lips are by his ear and he resists the urge to gasp.

“I’m going to go upstairs and take a bath, if you come up there then I’ll take that as a yes. If not, then I know where we stand.” You take a step back before turning around in the direction of your bathroom. 

You make sure to grab a bottle of wine on your way upstairs and Eren feels his throat dry up and his pants get tighter.

“Oh my god” He puts a hand on his rapidly beating heart and lets out a nervous breath. 

Eren isn’t sure how or when, but he does make it upstairs at some point. He bites his lip at the sight of you in front of him.

You’re resting in your tub with your head resting against the back of it. Your breasts are partially covered, that is until you sit up to greet the man in front of you.

“You made it.’ You say sweetly, leaning over the side of the bathtub. Your ass peeks over the water and he immediately begins to undress.

He takes his clothes off in record time and gets into the tub directly behind you. 

“I was a little nervous you weren’t going to come up here” you tell him, you plant kisses on his neck and he leans back. 

“I’ll do anything for you baby. Anything you want.” He groans as you wrap a wet hand around his cock and stroke him slowly. 

“You’ll do anything I want baby?” You watch him fall apart in your hands and sit on his thighs. 

You smirk as his chest rises and falls with each movement of your hand. He nods his head quickly and you hold his chin with your free hand, forcing him to look at you. 

“Tell me you love me Eren” You tell him, replacing your hand with your warm cunt, not even giving him a moment to breathe. 

Eren’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him. 

“F-fuck, I love you! I love you so fucking much.” He confesses, he pulls you in by the back of your neck and presses his lips against yours. 

You melt into his arms and wrap your own arms around his neck. He rubs his hands up and down your waist and you sigh against his lips. 

His hands rub their way up your back, and make their final destination on your chest. He gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth and rubs over your nipples with his thumbs. 

You let out a shaky breath as he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub. As he begins to rub your other breast, he starts thrusting up into you. 

“Eren!” You cry out, immediately grabbing his shoulders as his movements pick up. 

He grins at how quickly things change. Less than five minutes ago he was falling apart in your hands and now you’re crumbling on top of him. 

“Look at my pretty girl.” He says as he pulls away from your chest. 

You moan and bounce faster as you feel that familiar warmth build up in your stomach. 

“Are you getting close baby? Fuck, I love when your pussy gets tight like this!” He holds your hips in his hands tightly and fucks into you rapidly. 

You rest your face in the crook of his neck and let out a cry of pleasure. He pulls you against his chest and plows into you. 

“Oh god, R-Ren I’m coming!” You exclaim while coming all over his cock. 

“Good girl, I’m not finished with you yet though.” He coos, wrapping a hand around your throat as you whine in overstimulation. 

“God damn I should’ve confessed sooner.” He grunts as another orgasm washes over you. 

“Eren!” You cry out, your limp body falling into his arms. 

“Yeah baby that’s it. Feels good, huh?” He teases, the hand that was on your throat sneakily trails down your abdomen and to your soaking clit. 

You bite his shoulder as he rubs slow circles on the nub to bring you to another orgasm. 

“Y-yes, feels so fucking good.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool starts to fall from your lips. 

“That’s it, just like that mama, keep squeezing me just like that.” He bites his lip hard at the sight of your beautiful body on top of his. 

He swears your body is a fucking masterpiece, he’d scream it from the rooftops if he could. Eren adores every part of you, from the hair on your head, down to your pretty feet. You’re perfect in his eyes and that would never change. 

“Shit! I love you Eren, fuck I love you so so much.” You shriek as your final orgasm crashes throughout your entire body. 

Your eyes squeeze and your vision turns white as you gush all over his thighs, your tight cunt convulses around his cock and his hips lose their rhythm.

“R-ren.” You whimper as his thrust turn  into plowing. 

“ ‘m so close princess, fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good.” He pulls you in for a kiss and smashes his lips against yours. 

He grabs your ass and holds on for dear life as he pushes his cum deep inside of you. Rope after rope of hot cum fills you up to the brim as he slows the speed of his hips. 

He pulls back from your lips and leans his head back against the tub to finally catch his breath. 

“Holy shit.” He pants, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

“You okay baby?” He looks down at you and stifles his laugh at the sight of you drifting in and out of sleep. 

You simply nod your head and wrap your arms around him tighter, letting your actions do the talking. 

“Love you so much Eren.” You whisper in his neck and he pulls you in closer. 

“I love you more”

Ari

[justagalwhowrites]

I saw this video and I feel like something like this would be fun to read! I have to ask would you ever consider writing a kidnapper!Joel fic?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Dfp6Na/

Hi Bestie!

So.... Yes :)

Not quite the vibe of the linked video but I hope you enjoy it!

Run Rabbit: Part One

It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS. Written as part of the @romana-after-dark Dead Dove December event (but posted late because it's impossible for me to make a deadline at the moment apparently.) This will be in two parts.

Relationship: Joel Miller x Female Reader X Tommy Miller

Warnings WHOLE FIC: DUBCON (reader is a captive, participation might be enthusiastic but consent is dubious under the circumstances.) Raider!Joel; Raider!Tommy; Captive reader; Canon-typical violence; graphic depictions of violence; graphic depictions of injury; attempted SA (not by Joel or Tommy); Dom/Sub dynamic but not an established relationship; Dom-ish Joel; Brat tamer-ish Joel; Sub-ish reader; DDDNE; M/F/M threesome; unprotected P in V sex; Anal sex; Oral sex; No use of Y/N; Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8k

PLEASE NOTE: part one does not get smutty ❤️

Part 2

November, 2004

“You can have whatever you want, please!” 

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you tried to keep quiet from your place below the floorboards. Your boyfriend, Zach, had tucked you into the crawl space when he ran in from hunting with three men on his tail. 

“They don’t know about you,” he’d said, breathless. “Stay quiet, I’ll get us out of this.” 

But even a year into the apocalypse, Zach wasn’t a great shot. It wasn’t long before he was out matched and the men were breaking down the door to the cabin you’d been holed up in for a few days. 

“Seemed awful keen to protect whatever it is you got,” one of the men said. “How do we know you’re not gonna just come and try to take it back?” 

“Should just kill ‘em,” another man said. “Don’t gotta worry about it then.” 

“No, no, I swear I won’t,” Zach pleaded. 

“Prove it,” the final man spoke for the first time. “Got no reason to trust you now, why should we leave you alive?”

You kept your hands tight over your mouth, trying not to cry, trying to stay quiet, hoping they’d leave Zach alive. 

“Because I have something better than supplies!” He yelled it, his words flowing together as he stumbled over them. 

“Like?” The third man said. 

“My girlfriend,” Zach panted. Your breath caught. “She was a nurse before, in an ER, she can keep you alive, you can have her, please…” 

“And where is this girlfriend?” The first man said. “You seem awful alone here…” 

You hoped Zach was just buying time, that he wouldn’t actually tell these animals where you were. 

You were wrong. 

“In the closet,” he said. “There’s a crawl space there, I told her to hide there while I took care of things here. Please, she’s worth a lot, she’s good at patching you up, she’s real pretty, you can have her, you can have her…” 

The sound of his begging almost covered the thud of boots as you heard the closet door creak open and the floor over your head disappeared. 

“Well, would you look at that,” a large man with shaggy curls and a patchy beard - the first one who has spoken, you thought - smirked down at you. “He’s not full of shit.”

“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “No, please…” 

The man ignored you, grabbing a fistful of fabric at your chest and hefting you up from the crawl space with a grunt. He dropped you on the ground and you tried to scramble away only to have another man grab your shoulder and throw you down. You landed on your backside, a different tall, broad man with dark curls looming over you. 

“Where you think you’re running to, little rabbit?” He smirked, the second man who had spoken. You pulled yourself back from him, looking for a way out. The third man, blond and pale and the youngest of them, stood over Zach, a gun pointed at his head. He started humming Run, Rabbit, Run as he smiled at your boyfriend, glancing your way, prowling toward Zach. A predator enjoying his prey. 

“So,” the first man dropped your pack that had been in the crawl space next to you at your side with a thud, making you jump. “You really a nurse?” 

“She is,” Zach answered for you. “She is and you can have her, please…” 

“Zach!” Tears tightened your throat. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, not looking at you. “I’m sorry, but I can’t…” 

The man who pulled you from the crawl space sighed, pulling a handgun from his side, going up behind Zach and pressing the barrel to his head before pulling the trigger. Your scream hung in the air longer than the crack of the gun, the salty, metallic taste of Zach’s blood on your tongue as his body slumped to the ground. 

“Hey,” the man who shot Zach dropped to one knee in front of you, grabbing your face roughly, gripping your cheeks in his large hand. There was blood on him, too. “You really think that piece of shit is worth screamin’ and cryin’ over? He was sellin’ you, girl, he ain’t worth any grief of yours.” 

He released you and looked over his shoulder to the other dark haired man. 

“Tommy, got something we can hold her with?” The other man - Tommy, apparently - started going through his bag. He looked toward the blond next. “Vince, gather what you can, we’re heading out in 10. Made a lot of noise here, don’t want to wait and find out what that attracts.” 

“Are you going to kill me too?” You asked quietly. 

The man who seemed to be in charge cocked his head at you. 

“Now why would we go and do a thing like that?” He asked. “Your boyfriend might have been scum but he was right, you’re valuable cargo. You’re gonna be a good girl for us, right?” 

You weren’t really sure what to say to that, your heart beating so hard and fast you were sure this man could see your pulse in your throat. 

“Don’t really matter either way, does it?” He said as Tommy handed him some rope. “You either cooperate or you’re more trouble than you’re worth and we just kill you. Don’t make much difference to us. Hands out, wrists together.” 

You just looked at him and he sighed, pulling his sidearm out again and putting it below your chin. The muzzle was warm and wet from where he’d just killed Zach and, for a moment, you thought you were going to vomit. 

“Didn’t I just say I’d kill you if you got to be more trouble than you’re worth?” He said. “You’re already a lot of trouble by bein’ and extra mouth to feed so I recommend cooperating before my temper runs out. So. Hands out, wrists together.” 

You obeyed and the man wrapped your wrists in rope tight enough that you had no hope of wriggling out but not so tight that it was painful, just uncomfortable. He wrapped his large hand around the cluster of rope between your wrists and yanked you to your feet. 

“Got anything on you I should be worried about?” He asked. “Be a lot easier on you if you tell me now than later.” 

“Knife,” you said, voice shaky. “Right pocket.” 

“Good girl.” 

He reached into your pocket and pulled the weapon free, opening and examining the blade. 

“Know how to use this?” He asked, brows raised. 

“I’ve used it,” you replied. He nodded and closed it, putting it in his pocket. 

“Be a good enough girl for a long enough time and maybe you can get it back,” he said before turning to Tommy. “I’m gettin’ a head start with this one, heading north west, back to site. You know the way.” 

“I know it,” he said. “We’ll clear out quick, catch up soon.” 

The man who had you grabbed your pack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder before bringing his rifle around to his front, nudging you forward with the muzzle. 

“Let’s go,” he said. “Try and take off and I’ll shoot ya. And I don’t miss.” 

The man kept close to you, nudging you along in front of him and you tried not to trip on roots and overgrown brush but you’d only been walking about 20 minutes when you failed, falling with a pained grunt. The man sighed and grabbed you by the collar, pulling you to your feet. 

“You OK?” He asked, gun pointed at the ground and not at you. 

“Yes,” you said, even though your hands were scraped up and your knees hurt and you had your boyfriend’s blood on your skin and your throat hurt from screaming.

“Keep movin’,” he ordered. 

You kept looking back over your shoulder at him. He reminded you of a guy you dated once who was in the army. He never looked in one place too long, head constantly turning, looking, searching. There were threats, he knew that. He also knew how to see them coming. The gun was tilted toward the ground but close and ready. You were waiting for him to change his mind about you, to shoot you, too. Part of you wondered if this was part of a game for him, if he was going to walk with you just long enough to lull you into a false sense of security before shooting you. Maybe he liked the fear, the surprise. Maybe he’d given too much away by killing Zach and now he couldn’t get what he wanted from you. 

Maybe that was better than the alternative.

You were only walking about an hour when the other men, Tommy and Vince, caught up to you. The man you were with turned and pointed the gun, noticing their approach before you did. You froze, only realizing that it was probably a good time to run now that his attention was elsewhere once it was too late. 

“Just us, Joel,” Tommy called as they climbed up the hill you’d just made it up yourselves. “No trouble behind us.” 

The man - Joel, apparently - lowered the rifle and the men joined you. They had four packs between the two of them, two you didn’t recognize and two backpacking bags that you recognized as yours and Zach’s. Your stomach turned. 

“Not a terrible haul,” Tommy said. “These two had decent gear and must have just taken somethin’ good. A lot of jerky, good stock of ammo, some medical shit.” 

Joel looked down at you, his eyebrows raised. 

“You know how to use the shit in those bags?” He asked. You just looked back at him. He sighed and grabbed a fist full of your hair, jerking you close to him, making you squeak in shock. “Don’t play dumb, girl, you know how to use that shit?” 

“No,” you said sarcastically, not sure where the guts for that came from. “I enjoy hauling around shit I can’t do anything with.” 

Joel’s jaw tensed and you weren’t sure if he was about to yell or laugh. 

“Not gonna get far with an attitude like that, little rabbit,” Tommy said, but he was smirking a little. “Lot better for you if you just answer the questions when we ask ‘em.” 

You looked between the two men closest to you for a moment. You wondered if they were related. Their eyes were the same, same hair, too. They would have been handsome in another context, one where you weren’t afraid they were about to kill you. 

“It’s mine,” you said after a moment. “We were backpacking when the outbreak happened, we didn’t even know for a day or two, we were in the middle of the mountains and there weren’t other people around. I know how to use it all.” 

Joel released you. 

“Good to know you ain’t completely useless,” he said. 

“You mean outside the fact that I can save your life?” You bit out. Again, you weren’t sure why. 

He snorted. 

“Outside of that. Keep movin’.” 

With the other men there, Tommy took the lead and you followed, Vince and Joel behind you. You could feel Vince’s eyes on you, the cold, lecherous feeling of his gaze making your stomach churn. 

Night was starting to fall by the time you reached a cabin that showed greater signs of people than you’d seen in what felt like forever. There was a stack of wood on the front porch, a line between the house and a tree that looked like it was meant for drying clothes, barrels placed to gather rain water. You stopped, staring at the small structure. 

“Inside,” Joel said after a moment. 

“I have to pee.” 

He sighed. 

“Vince,” he said. “Take her to piss. Don’t fuckin’ touch her unless she tries to run, got it?” 

Vince groaned but nudged you off to the side of the house with the muzzle of his gun. You looked around, trying to get a lay of the land, see what a good route out might be. There was a small path that looked like it would take you deeper into the woods, eventually up into the Smokies. That was fine. If you could get your pack, you could survive out there for at least a week or two on your own, maybe find a settlement or something. You’d never had to survive on your own, you’d never hunted or shot a human being. Zach had handled that. You weren’t sure how long you could really make it on your own but you’d rather give that a shot than leave yourself to whatever these men had in store for you. 

“Here’s good,” Vince said after two minutes of walking. You held out your wrists and he raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m a fucking idiot?” 

“I can’t really pull my pants down like this,” you said. “I’m not a man, I can’t just whip my dick out…” 

He stomped over to you and unbutton and unzipped your jeans before yanking them down to your knees, ignoring your surprised sound before going back to your hips. His fingers trailed over your skin, sinking into the meat of your ass and making your stomach churn, before he pulled your panties down, too. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering on you, before he stood up. 

“There,” he said. “Happy?” 

He walked a few steps away and turned back to look at you. 

“I can’t go with you watching.” 

He shrugged. 

“Not my problem. You have to go bad enough, you’ll go.” 

You glared at him and held his gaze before squatting and peeing, missing toilet paper and privacy more than you had since the damn outbreak started. You straightened up when you were done and stood there, still looking at him. 

“Afraid you’ll have to come pull up my pants, too,” you said. “Since your boss apparently wants you to wait on me hand and foot.” 

A muscle in the man’s neck twitched but he stalked over and yanked your clothes back up, harshly buttoning and zipping your jeans before shoving you back toward the cabin hard enough that you stumbled. 

Inside, Joel and Tommy were sitting at a rustic table, a fire going in the nearby fireplace. There were two Nalgene bottles of water on the table and a bag of jerky between them. The jerky you recognized. You and Zach had made it just a few days earlier. 

You tried not to think about it. 

“He behave himself?” Joel asked, stretched out with his legs far in front of him. 

“You’re really gonna take this little cunt’s word over mine?” Vince asked. 

Joel just kept looking at you, ignoring him entirely. 

“Asked you a question girl,” he said. “He keep his hands to himself?” 

You glanced at Vince who was staring down Joel, his blue eyes hot and angry. You looked back to Joel. 

“He was fine,” you said. 

“Good,” Joel said, getting up, grabbing a bottle of water and going over to you. He put one of his huge hands on your shoulder, guiding you to the nearby couch and nudging you down onto it. 

You obeyed his unspoken command, lowering yourself slowly down but not relaxing into the cushion, staying on the edge of it. 

“Open,” he ordered. 

Your eyes narrowed. He glared back. 

“Open your mouth,” he said when you didn’t obey. 

“You put your dick in my mouth I’ll bite it clean off.”

Joel squared his jaw and held up the bottle of water. 

“Don’t got a smaller bottle right now and you can’t hold this with your hands tied. Don’t want you droppin’ dead from dehydration after we went through all the trouble to get you here so open your goddamn mouth.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment before you obeyed. He unscrewed the top and poured the water on your tongue, crisp and cool and making you aware of just how thirsty you’d become in the few hours you’d been with him. 

“Good girl,” he said. “Was that so hard?” 

Eventually, he stopped and you closed your mouth, wiping your lips on the back of your tied hands as he closed the bottle. 

“Don’t gotta worry about that shit from us,” he said. “Prefer when a woman begs for it, not about to take it from one who ain’t.” 

“Because I can trust what a group of murderers says,” you snapped. 

“Murderers,” Joel shrugged. “Not rapists. Hungry?” 

“Why?” You asked, tongue still sharp. “Going to be kind enough to give me scraps of the food you stole from me?” 

“Something like that,” Joel said. “If you’re gonna try to starve yourself to death, just let me know. Save you the trouble and put you down quick instead.” 

You watched him for a moment. For some reason, you trusted what he was saying to you. That he wasn’t going to hurt you - at least, not like that. That he was intending to keep you alive. 

“Not hungry,” you said eventually. 

Joel shrugged. 

“If you change your mind.” 

You sat on the edge of the couch cushion as the men took inventory of what they stole from you, what they killed Zach to take. You tried not to cry. 

It’s not like you’d been especially close to Zach when the outbreak happened. You hadn’t said “I love you” yet, you’d been dating for a month and a half and fucking for just a few weeks of that. 

The backpacking trip had been a spur of the moment thing for both of you. You had some vacation time to burn before the end of the quarter, his job was flexible and you’d bonded over a shared love of the outdoors. You’d ignored the words of caution from your girlfriends when he wanted to take you hiking for a second date, the two of you ending up exhausted but proud as you came to the end of the seven mile trail he’d selected. He kissed you there for the first time, his lips salty with trail mix and sweat and a view of a valley swelling with shades of green spread out below you. 

You were somewhere in the mountains when the world collapsed. You didn’t even know it had happened until you returned to where you’d parked your car to find the windows smashed and the inside looted, a body missing a chunk of its skull not far away. You’d ran to it on instinct, dropping to your knees beside them to check their pulse even though it was clear that there was no way they would be alive. Their skin was cold and there were fibrous, vine-like tendrils swarming in their brain. 

It had been you and Zach from there. He was more of a survivalist than you. He knew how to hunt and trap, taught you how to skin a rabbit and process a deer. You weren’t sure if you’d truly come to love him or not, if the feeling you had for him was just what happened when you went about surviving the end of the world with another person and became dependent on them for your very life. 

But you were certain that he hadn’t loved you. Not really. If he had, he never would have given you over to these men. 

You’d never have done that to him.

Maybe you did love him. You weren’t sure you’d ever know. 

“Sleep here,” Joel ordered as the day fully shifted to night and Tommy and Vince started readying for bed. “I’m keepin’ watch for now. We were gone long enough, some dumbasses might think they can move in. Don’t try anything.” 

He went onto the porch and you stretched out on the couch, the other men going into what you expected were bedrooms at the back of the cabin. Your hands were still bound. You stared at the dying embers of the fire, the orange glow, and cried. 

***

Joel needed Vince to stop acting like a shit head. 

The man didn’t seem to understand the position he was in. He was the least valuable person here. He was young, he was dumb and he was disposable. 

He just didn’t seem to realize it. If he kept looking at you like you were something he could take, he’d find out just how disposable he was.

Joel came in from his watch about 5 a.m. to find you whimpering quietly on the couch. He sighed. 

“You really still crying over that jackass you were with?” He asked as you sniffled quietly. 

“Shut up,” your voice was thick and wet. 

“He ain’t worth it,” he said gently, sitting in the armchair that was near where your head was. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering. But then, he’d never really taken a captive before. He usually just killed people or turned them loose. You were valuable enough to keep and sending you out into the wilderness alone seemed crueler than holding onto you. He just had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do with you now. “He didn’t know who the fuck we were or what the fuck we’d do with you - lot worse out there than us, little girl - and he handed you over on a silver fuckin’ platter. More than happy to trade your pain for his sorry life.” 

“He’s the only person left that I knew,” you said softly. It was the first truly genuine thing Joel had heard you say. Except, maybe, when you asked if he was going to kill you. “I’m alone now.” 

“Not alone, little girl,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he was reassuring you. He shouldn’t care. “You’re better off.” 

“Why do you call me that?” You asked, lifting your head ever so slightly from the arm of the couch to look at him. “I’m not a little girl…” 

“Little compared to me,” he said. 

You scoffed and sniffed at the same time. 

“You’re a giant,” you said. “Everyone is little compared to you. Don’t see you calling Vinny there little boy…” 

Joel laughed a bit. 

“Maybe I should. And you’re a girl.” 

“I’m a woman,” you said, a spark of defiance in your tone. “I don’t think I’m much younger than you, if I am at all.” 

Joel frowned a bit at that. 

“How old are you?” He asked after a moment. 

You thought for a second, like you were doing the math. Which was fair. It’s not like he’d celebrated his last birthday, either, his stomach twisting at the thought. He had to think about it, too. 

“I’m 33,” you said. “How old are you?” 

He was surprised. Not that you looked terribly young, now that he thought about it. More that human faces lacked much definition to him anymore. Anyone older than a teenager looked about the same until they started going gray. You just seemed younger. 

“I’m 37,” he said. 

“Yeah, I’m not a girl,” you said, putting your head back down. 

“You could tell me your name,” he said. 

You scoffed. 

“Then I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call you, little girl,” he said. He could feel you glare at him. 

“I had a whole life before,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Joel. “I had a house and a job and friends and I used to go to dinner and to concerts and buy the people I loved presents. I had a life before.” 

He realized then why he’d thought you were younger. You were, possibly, the most human person he’d come across in a year. Some small spark of divine mortality - the juxtaposition of life and a kind of death that was still possible - there in your eyes that didn’t exist in others. It seemed naive, in a way. Made you seem younger than you were. But he wasn’t sure that was it. Maybe you weren’t naive. Maybe part of you was just clinging to your humanity harder than anyone else left. 

“We all did,” he said, voice harsher than he’d really meant it to be. There was part of him that wanted to snap that tie in you. It was unfair that you got to keep it when he didn’t. But it was a kindness, too. You’d survive better without it. “You move on. Go to sleep.” 

He went to the room he shared with Tommy who was unconscious, sprawled out on the bed and snoring. Joel took the sleeping bag on the floor and stared at the ceiling, trying to make himself not listen for the sound of you crying in the next room. 

Things were surprisingly smooth with you for the next two days. Vince was a fucking idiot and got a nasty cut on his arm that you tended to, giving him stitches while he leered at you and Joel ground his teeth. 

He felt better with you tied. Your wrists, at the very least, but during the day when the men were coming and going, Joel bound you to a chair at the table. 

“Comfortable?” He asked the first time he did it. 

“No,” you spat, face scrunched in anger that was so fierce it was almost cute. If Joel even found things cute anymore. “I’m not.” 

“You gonna lose a hand from me cuttin’ off your circulation?” He asked instead. You just glared at him. “Good. Stay put, like a good girl.” 

“I hate you,” you seethed at him. 

Joel shrugged. 

“That’s fine,” he said. “Don’t gotta like me to keep me alive, do ya?” 

He went outside to gather wood. 

By the third night, you were yawning and looked barely conscious before the sun had even set. Joel frowned. 

“I keep telling you to sleep,” he said. “You ignoring me for fun or you think exhausting yourself is good for your health?” 

“I’d love to sleep,” you snapped. “But something about having my wrists bound keeps me up at night. Maybe it’s the discomfort, maybe it’s the looming threat of death, who can say?” 

Joel pulled Tommy and Vince aside after dinner, the men standing in the dirt outside the cabin, snow starting to drift down. 

“She hasn’t tried to hurt anyone yet,” Tommy shrugged. “Don’t think she’s gonna go far if she gets away and doesn’t seem like the kind to kill us in our sleep.” 

“Don’t like it,” Vince said, glaring at the cabin for a moment before looking back at Joel. “Can’t trust her as far as we can throw her…” 

“No one said shit about trust,” Joel cut him off. “But we can’t keep ‘er tied up forever.” 

“Fine,” Vince shrugged. “We can put her to use then kill her. Won’t need to tie her up then.” 

Joel could hear the blood in his ears. 

“Suggest that one more time, little boy, and see how long you last,” he straightened up as he said it, the full six inches he had on the younger man all the more apparent then. “You want to do that kind of shit, find someone else to run with.” 

“Fuck, sorry,” he raised his arms in a moment of surrender before crossing them again. “Just don’t come crying to me when she slits your fucking throat.” 

“Can’t cry if she kills me, can I?” Joel said, stomping back toward the house, pushing past Vince on the way. 

You were still bound to the chair. He wordlessly unwound the rope and you relaxed your elbows, stretching your arms as best you could with your wrists still tied. 

“Hands up,” he said. You frowned, just looking at him. “You heard me, you want me to untie you or not? Hands up.” 

You practically flung your wrists at him and he tried not to laugh at you as he loosened the knot and pulled the rope from your wrists. 

The second you were free, you rolled your shoulders and closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of it. 

“God that’s good,” you moaned before you started flexing your fingers and rotating your wrists before you glared up at him again. “What? You try being tied up for days, see how you deal with it.” 

“Rather not,” Joel said, winding up the rope. “Better be a good girl, don’t try anything stupid.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said as you spread your arms wide and sighed. Joel found himself smiling a little for the first time in he didn’t know how long. He stopped himself. 

“Actually get some sleep,” he said, voice gruff. “No good to us exhausted.” 

He left you alone, taking the bed in he and Tommy’s room that night and Tommy taking the floor. It took effort to not listen for you moving in the front room as he drifted off. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was asleep when Tommy shook him awake. 

“Joel,” he said urgently. “She’s gone.” 

***

Absolutely none of this was ideal. 

You were exhausted, the only thing keeping you upright the adrenaline that ran through your whole body. You didn’t have supplies, your pack and all its valuable contents in the bedrooms of the men. You were stuck running through snow, leaving a clear path to follow until the woods got dense enough that the snow hadn’t piled up much. 

But you had to go, you had to go now, now, now, right now. You couldn’t spend another night there like that, not when you had the option to get away, not when you had the use of your arms back. 

Your body wouldn’t let you sleep, even for an hour or two, even just for a night to try to make a break for it tomorrow. The second Joel had freed your hands it was like you could feel every part of your body in sharp, acute detail. Every frayed nerve, every thrumming vein, every peaked hair was stark and clear. You couldn’t relax enough to sleep. You had an opening, a chance. You had to take it, you had to. 

You didn’t even have your knife. 

But you had your body and you knew how to push yourself over long distances in the mountains. You’d been good at it before, too. You’d hiked most of your life, knowing how to get yourself to make it to the top of the next ridge even when your calves were burning and your lungs felt on the verge of collapse you knew you could make it. 

All you had to do was do that now, through all the exhaustion and all the panic, and put as much distance between yourself and those men as possible. 

You’d find some way to keep yourself alive eventually. There’d be supplies or a settlement. Something. You were sure of that. 

Mostly. 

Your breath rose in a cloud in front of you and you broke away from the trail into the brush of the woods, thankful that the moon was bright enough that you could have some sense of where you were going. 

You were just starting to relax a little when you heard it behind you. A sharp, shrill whistle. You froze. 

“Come on out, little rabbit,” Tommy called. “Not gonna hurt you…” 

“Shit,” you whispered as you panted for breath. They sounded pretty far away but they’d catch up eventually. 

You scrambled through the forest until you reached a cluster of ferns that was thick and full and you ducked into it. If you stayed quiet and still, they’d walk right past you. You could stay put for a while and then find your way from there. Simple. 

You tried to not shake from cold and fear as you heard the signs of the men getting close. There was the crunch of sticks, the rustle of leaves and the eerie sound of Vince humming Run, Rabbit, Run. The glare of a flashlight trickled between the ferns and you held your breath, the humming getting louder. 

For a second, a glorious second, you thought you were in the clear. Vince had passed your hiding spot, poking through the brush closest to the trail with his rifle but you were just far enough off the trail that he missed you, and you relaxed. 

Then you heard the snap of a twig. 

“Found you.” 

You spun, Vince turning the flashlight on and shining it in your face, all but blinding you. You threw up a hand instinctively to protect your eyes and he grabbed your wrist, yanking you out of your hiding spot and almost pulling your arm out of its socket in the process. 

You yelped in pain, you couldn’t help it, and he all but threw you onto the trail. Your eyes were still adjusting to the light but it took you a moment to realize that he had his gun trained on you. 

“Knew you’d take off on us,” he said, panting a little. You put your hands up and looked for a way out. “Knew you’d be more trouble than you’re worth…” 

You backed away from him, more on instinct than anything else, not able to watch where you were going and you shrieked as you tripped and fell back, landing hard and barely catching yourself before your head smacked into the rock of the path. You rose up on your hands quickly, scrambling back from him as best you could but he was standing, could see where he was going. You didn’t have a hope. 

“Please,” you whispered. “Please just… just let me go, you already have my supplies and…” 

“Can’t let you go with you knowing where we are,” he replied. “And you were already more trouble than you’re worth in my opinion…” 

“I stitched up your arm,” you said, tears stinging at your eyes. “I helped you…” 

“And those two idiots won’t even let me fuck you,” he cut you off. “What good is pussy you can’t fuck, hm?” 

“Please,” you said again. 

“That’s not an answer,” he prowled closer, the muzzle of his rifle so close you could almost touch it. Your heart was in your throat. “Think I’ll just kill you, bet that pretty head of yours would make all kinds of nice colors when I blow it off…” 

“Hey!” Tommy snapped, his gun up and pointed at Vince. “Know you’re not threatenin’ to kill her, not when we all agreed to keep her alive.” 

“You agreed,” Vince snapped. “You and your asshole brother, not me.” 

“That asshole has been keepin’ your sorry ass alive,” Joel growled from behind you. Your head whipped around to see him there, looming large over you. His gun was up, too, pointed at Vince. “You need us a whole hell of a lot more than we need you. You can do what I fuckin’ say or you can move on. But you keep pointing that gun at her and you ain’t gonna have much to move on with.” 

The three of them stood there for a moment, Vince aiming at you, Joel and Tommy aiming at him. Your heart felt like it was going to break your ribs it was beating so hard. 

Vince lowered his gun. Tommy did the same but Joel left his up. 

“Joel,” Vince said but Joel cut him off. 

“Don’t like men who don’t listen,” he said. “Not worth shit to me if you can’t take orders. Said you could join me and my brother if you did what you were told.” 

“I told you she’d run!” Vince snapped. 

“Don’t give a shit,” Joel said. “You think nurses pop up every five fuckin’ feet? She’s valuable. To us and to people we come across. Worth a little trouble. Worth a whole hell of a lot more trouble than you. Know your goddamn place.” 

He lowered his gun and looked down to you. 

“You alright, little girl?” 

You were too shaken to fight the nickname. Instead, you just nodded. 

“Good.” 

He slung his rifle on his back and reached down, yanking you sharply to your feet, the movement so rough it shocked you. Once you were on your feet, he grabbed you by your chin, his callused fingers harsh on your cheeks, and pulled your face close, so close that you’d expect him to kiss you if he were your lover. 

But he wasn’t that. He was your captor. 

“Thought I told you not to try anything stupid,” he asked, his face almost eerily calm but his tone on the edge of anger. “You seem smart enough to know better, give you an inch and you decide to take a mile. Several, in fact. Maybe Vince is right, maybe we should kill you…” 

“Joel,” Tommy said cautiously but Joel threw him a glare and he quieted. 

“You really think you can do better than us out there? Hm?” He demanded. “You think you can survive all on your lonesome?” 

“No,” you said, fighting to not cry. You hated that you reacted this way, that when you were scared or mad your first instinct was to cry. “But I could find…” 

“Find what?” He cut you off. “Find someone else who’s willin’ to stick their necks out for you? Willing to feed you, shelter you without takin’ more from you?” 

He released your chin and you slumped back from him, massaging your face and working your jaw, trying to right it. 

“You’re damn lucky to be with us, little girl,” he snapped. “Real damn lucky. Better start actin’ like it instead of running off like some scared little rabbit. Hands out.” 

“But…” 

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “You lost the privilege of using your fuckin’ hands without my permission. Hands. Out.” 

You obeyed, arms trembling, and he bound your wrists together, the ropes finding the same indentations they’d made on your skin before. He dropped your wrists once they were bound and you looked at him as you still fought to not cry. His eyes met yours, sharp and cold. 

“You’re mine now,” he said harshly. “Sooner you figure that out, the easier this gets for you. Move.” 

The walk back to the cabin felt long and, when you got there, you went to lay on the couch but Joel stopped you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, shrugging out of his coat. 

You frowned. 

“Going to sleep…”

“Not there you’re not,” he said. “You’re sleepin’ with me, you don’t get to be unsupervised anymore.” 

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head. 

“No, no, please, you said you weren’t…” 

“Wasn’t offerin’ to fuck you, girl,” he cut you off. “You’re sleeping where I can fucking see you so get in my bed.” 

Your whole body shook as he nudged you to one of the back rooms. You hadn’t been in one of these before. You had no idea how to try to escape if you needed to. It was stupid of you, you realized now, to trust Joel when he said they might be murderers but they weren’t rapists. Just because they hadn’t forced themselves on you yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t now. 

The room wasn’t huge, a queen sized bed in the middle and a sleeping bag on the floor. There was a door - to a closet, you assumed - and a dresser with some picture frames on top. 

“Shoes off,” Joel said. 

“Please,” you said softly. “Please don’t do this, I…” 

“Didn’t I say I wasn’t offering to fuck you?” He asked, sounding exasperated. “I don’t want you tracking dirt into the goddamn bed. Shoes off, get in on that side, one by the dresser. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you will.”

You obeyed and curled as tightly in on yourself as you could, facing away from him. You felt the bed dip as he climbed in, the heat of his body close to yours. But he didn’t touch you. 

“Actually sleep,” Joel muttered after a moment. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him. He was flat on his back, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. The opposite of someone who looked like they were about to grope you the second you passed out. 

Still, you rolled to face him, curled tightly on yourself, and watched him until his body loosened and his breaths evened. Tommy snored lightly from the sleeping bag on the floor. You weren’t sure if their unconscious state made it feel safe enough to rest or your body gave out from exhaustion but, the next thing you knew, it was morning and you were alone. 

You sat up slowly, hands still bound, an unfamiliar blanket draped over you that hadn’t been the night before. 

You made your way slowly, cautiously, to the main part of the small house. The men were talking in low voices around the kitchen table and you hovered for a moment, not sure if you wanted them to notice you or not. 

But Tommy was the first to see you there, a slow smile spreading over his face. 

“Well hey there little rabbit,” he took a sip from a mug. “You look rested.” 

“Probably wore herself out taking off,” Vince muttered. 

“Gonna be just you and me today,” Tommy said, ignoring Vince’s comments. “Those two are headin’ out to do some business.” 

“Business?” You asked, brows raised. “Is that code for murder?” 

“Our business is none of yours, little girl,” Joel said, drinking from a mug of his own. “You stay here, behave yourself, and maybe we’ll bring you something back.” 

“Rather not get anything that comes from killing,” you said. “Thanks though.” 

Joel just rolled his eyes and shoved back from the table. 

“You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it,” he said, coming to stand in front of you. He put two fingers below your chin and tilted it, forcing you too look him in the eye. “Gonna take off on me again? Or do I need to tie your legs up, too?” 

You gritted your teeth. 

“No.”

“Good girl.” 

Tommy helped you use the bathroom and you sat on the couch with jerky and sore wrists and resentment as you watched Joel and Vince get ready to head out to do… whatever it was they were about to go and do. 

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do to pass the time. You’d had some books in your bags but you weren’t about to risk pissing off the men for a little entertainment. 

But Tommy didn’t let you sit in silence for too long, flopping down next to you on the couch as you tried to find patterns in the peeling paint of he wall. You looked at him, cagey. He smiled. 

“You’re cute when you sleep.” 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“You’re cute when you sleep,” he said again. “All curled up and shit, just like a little rabbit.” 

You shrank back from him and he put his hands up. 

“Not gonna touch you,” he said. “Unless you wanted me to.” 

“Well… I don’t.”

He shrugged. 

“Didn’t expect you would,” he said. 

He was quiet again for a few minutes before he spoke again, a gleam in his eye when he did. 

“Wouldn’t happen to play poker, would you?”

You didn’t but he seemed happy enough to teach you. But you couldn’t hold the cards well with your wrists bound and, after a few minutes of struggling, Tommy glanced toward the door like he was half expecting Joel to walk through it. 

“Gimme those,” he said, holding his hands out. You thrust your wrists at him faster than you were proud of and he laughed a little, taking hold of you gently. He paused before starting at the rope. “You’re not gonna take off on me, right, little rabbit?” 

“Not at the moment,” you said. 

“Good,” he replied, untying you. “Not a fan of keepin’ you all tied up anyway…” 

You turned your wrists, the bones popping as you luxuriated in the movement. 

“Thank you,” you said, massaging one wrist and then the other. 

He shrugged. 

“The game is Texas Hold ‘Em,” he said, dealing. “We’ll play a few hands open and then see how you do…” 

It was oddly easy to forget that you were being held captive when playing cards with Tommy. He was lighter than the other men, more like people you remembered from before, making easy going conversation about things that hadn’t mattered in more than a year. 

“I’m still mad that I didn’t get to see the second Matrix,” you said, watching as Tommy put the flop on the table. 

“That, darlin’, was a blessing,” he replied. “Wasn’t nearly as good as the first.” 

“I heard that, but still,” you said, looking at the seven of clubs, three of hearts and king of clubs on the table and trying not to smile at the seven of spades and king of hearts in your hand. “I think it might have been better than I heard. And maybe it would have made more sense when the third one came out…” 

“Maybe,” Tommy said, putting the turn on the table. Ace of diamonds, no good for you. “But I dunno, you seem too smart to like something that shitty.” 

“Bold assumption,” you smiled a little and he smiled back. 

“Before I put the river card out,” he said. “How about we make this interesting?” 

“Interesting,” you frowned. “Interesting how?” 

“I win, you tell me something about yourself,” he said. “You win, I’ll give you something you want. Can’t be a weapon but something else.” 

You looked at him, brows raised. 

“C’mon, little rabbit,” he gave you a cocky smirk. “Let’s have some fun.” 

You looked at your hand again. 

“Alright,” you smiled a little. “Let’s do it.” 

The river was the king of spades and you tried not to smile too wide. 

“Alright,” he said, looking like he was holding back a grin himself. “I’ll show you mine then you show me yours.” 

You shrugged and he smiled as he put the king of diamonds and the three of spades on the table. 

“Full house,” he said. “Kings over threes.” 

“Damn,” you sighed. “I just have the kings…” you lowered the card, looking disappointed and enjoyed Tommy’s excited expression for half a second before you put the second card on the table. “Oh, and the sevens. Sevens are higher than threes, right? I mean, I only went to nursing school, I can’t be sure…” 

“You little shit,” Tommy laughed. “You’ve got a damn fine poker face on you! Alright, what is it you want?” 

“My books,” you said immediately. “I had two, I think, in my pack. I’d like them. Please.” 

“I can get you the books,” he smiled. “You sit tight.” 

He brought you the books and you played another hand with the same stakes. And another. And another. And more after that.

You got some hair ties and clean socks out of the deal. Tommy got to know your favorite food and what you liked to watch on TV back when there was TV. 

After a while, he looked at the books that you’d set aside on the table. He picked up the top one, Slaughterhouse Five. 

“Think this was on my reading list in high school,” he said, looking over the back of it. “Never actually read it though.” 

“It’s good,” you said. “You missed out.” 

“Read it to me,” he said, holding it out to you. 

“Read it to you?” You asked, brows raised. “What are you, five?” 

“Never much enjoyed reading,” he shrugged, still holding the book out. “But I like listening. Like listening to you well enough. C’mon, little rabbit. Tell me a story.” 

You considered him for a moment. You felt oddly safe with Tommy. You weren’t sure if it was because he was showing you kindness and one of the only three people left in the world you knew now or if he was actually safe. You weren’t sure you could trust anything you were thinking and feeling. 

But reading to him didn’t sound bad. 

“Can we move to the couch?” You asked. 

He laughed. 

“Think we can manage it.” 

You settled on the couch, you folded into a corner and Tommy stretched out. He watched you closely as you opened the book. 

“All this happened, more or less…” 

You fell asleep on the couch before Joel and Vince made it back but you woke up in he bed, Tommy snoring next to you. 

Part 2

A/N: Hey yeah so... this was supposed to be a one shot but it got away from me. So now it's two parts. Part two up sometime within the next week or so ❤️

[natailiatulls07]

The golden trio Pt 2

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - offensive names hate comments swearing

The golden trio

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Twitter

username Charles and Max haven’t posted anything any where since the other day when we saw Y/n walking out, she must of hurt them hard 😟

username Ikr, I feel so bad for them right now 😞

username And Lando posting a instagram story of her at a party 🙄 We knew she never liked them

f1gossip

Spotted: Y/n L/n was seen hanging out with Lando Norris and the quadrant group the night after she was seen leaving her shared apartment seemingly annoyed. She’s probably moving onto the Lando and the quadrant now that her lestappen trust fund has ended

Liked username and 2,193 others

username This bitch really is the ultimate gold digger

username I don’t get how some people like her, she’s a walking red flag 🚩

y/nismywife07 Have you ever considered that you don’t know her story or what goes on behind the scenes?! 😑

username Max and Charles will be much better without her stg

username I’m sick of her shit like omg go away hoe

Text (Red: Charles) (Orange: Lando)

Hey mate, I just want to check in on Y/n. She hasn’t really been texting me or Max, we understand why. We just want to make sure she okay

Yeah, she’s alright. I had to force her off social media after she saw that one gossip instagram account

I know, Max showed them to me and we’re both very annoyed how they portrayed her even though they don’t know what happened really

Can I ask a question?

Of course, go on

Why? Why did you say those things to her and make her believe those things they say about her?

Me and Max were upset that she was felt ashamed to be in the paddock, I guess we just switched off and we just said those things

Okay, I won’t say that she’ll be back with you guys soon that’s not my place to say

I understand, just look after her for us

Will do

charles_leclerc

Me, Max and Y/n have been friends for years now. She was this shy girl whose father was working at karting, that’s how we met her. Y/n has never asked us for money, so I don’t understand how you can comment those things about her.

Y/n is the sweetest girl ever, like that one time me and Danny FaceTimed her and she showed us her new stuffy.

So please, listen to what we say for once and stop hating her, she never deserved it or never will deserve it.

Liked by arthur_leclerc and 69,283 others

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maxverstappen1

This is the girl who brightens mine and Charles’ day, always have since our younger days. However those fake and disgusting comments have ruined that, they have taken that sunshine from us. So please quit it, you don’t know what goes on and that means you don’t have the right to have an opinion.

She is a girl who doesn’t like dentists, loves rainy days and cries at those animal charity videos. And we love her for that.

Y/n has never ever been a gold digger, never slept with either of us or asked for anything off us.

Liked by danielricciardo and 72,274 others

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Twitter

username Anyone else see Max and Charles’ instagram posts

username Yeah, maybe we were wrong about her

username See this is karma, you guys were hating on this poor girl when she didn’t deserve any of it

~~ Liked by Max33Verstappen and Charles_Leclerc

landonorris posted to his story

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Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[coralinnii]

It’s Him or Grim…and It’s Grim 

Ignoring him to take care of Grim feat: Sebek · Azul · Jade · Riddle genre: fluff note: gn!reader, no pronouns are used, relationships up to interpretation, some of the TWST boys basically taking the L or getting catblocked, 

piece of advice, never bring someone like me to an animal cafe for a date cuz I will ignore you. Also, don't question why I keep changing the banners. I just love messing with pictures of our handsome TWST boys <3

Sebek didn’t say it out loud but he was excited over you visiting him during his club activities. He’s proud to show off his skills on his steed and present his knightly appearance to you. 

Unfortunately, he’s not doing too well when he’s constantly getting into screaming contests with an uninvited guest…Grim 

He didn’t know why he was so surprised though. He should have predicted that wherever you intend to go, the cat-shaped menace will surely follow in curiosity and make a ruckus while he’s here. 

“Nyah, I can ride these crazy horses no problem!” 

“I will not allow it. Beginners need to learn the basics before even attempting to-“ 

Before Sebek could finish, Grim already went ahead and climbed on top of a nearby horse. But, your feline companion accidentally pressed his claws too deeply into the poor horse’s skin and spooked the large animal. 

“Grim!” You screamed when you saw your dormmate being pushed off the horse’s back and landing on his head. You ran to his side while Sebek did his best to calm the horse before it started to run amuck and cause more issues. 

Sebek wanted to scold the reckless cat monster for his actions but he bit his tongue and sighed in exasperation instead since it looked like the konk on the head left Grim feeling woozy. 

“I should bring Grim to the infirmary” you worriedly look at your companion as you cradle his body in your arms. “I’ll see you another time, Sebek. I’m so sorry for disturbing your club time” 

Sebek panicked over your departure, telling you that you could just come back after bringing Grim to the infirmary. He planned so many things today for you, to introduce you to his trusted steed, show off his horse riding skills, and maybe even let you ride with him. 

But you had to decline, wanting to stay by Grim’s side until he feels better. You gave an apologetic smile before you took off with Grim in your arms. You missed the look of utter defeat on the lime-haired freshman. You managed to get out of earshot as Sebek started shouting to himself, declaring to learn from his defeat against that cursed cat. His clubmates however did hear him loud and clear, Riddle looking over in confusion and Silver silently rooting for his fellow knight-in-training. 

“I admit my loss in this battle but I will prevail in our next encounter, Grim. I swear on my honor!”

Azul plans ahead in everything, be it his next business venture or a deal to be made…and definitely when meeting you. He wanted the most optimal results from this meeting he planned with you. He made sure he reserved the best spot in his restaurant that showcases him in the best lighting, the food is to your taste and the ambience sets the mood to his satisfaction. He took everything into consideration. But of course, things don't always go the way he wanted to.

Like Grim coming along with you to your engagement with him. 

“I’m sorry, Azul. Grim was bored in the dorms and Ace and Deuce had make-up classes today” you apologized, Grim in your lap as he gobbled the food Azul had picked out for you. “I hope it doesn’t inconvenience you too much” 

“Of course not,” He lied. “I’m more than generous enough to extend hospitality for even surprise visitors” 

“I gotta hand it to ya, Octavanilla guy! Your food is super delish!” Grim offers his compliments. “I can’t get enough of it!” 

Grim really couldn’t. He ordered seconds and thirds (RIP to your wallet) and didn’t stop himself from practically inhaling the food the moment it reached the table. It was a real mood killer for Azul. The silver-haired entrepreneur couldn’t find his opening and soon he’s left to watch you from the sidelines as your focus was solely on the fattened cat who is grumbling in your lap. 

“Nyahhhh…my tummy hurts~” Grim cried as his stomach ached. You let out a sigh as you did your best to soothe the monstrous feline. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you just ate your weight in food” you quipped which earned a weak whine from Grim. 

Azul just couldn’t believe his plan went to ruins by simply adding Grim into the equation. Any attempt for your attention is ripped away by Grim’s loud munching or simply you turning away from his gaze to reprimand the messy feline as you cleaned his dirty face. 

He needs a new plan, and a contingency plan should anything like today happen again. He needs back ups to distract him, perhaps Kalim- 

“Azul” your voice snapped him out from his thoughts. “I might need some money after how much Grim ate today. Do you think I could pick up some shifts in the lounge?” 

Oh, Azul could work with that. 

“Oh no, it seems that Grim has left you in quite a predicament. Come, vent your woes to me”

Jade was excited to show his treasured terrarium collection to you. It would be delightful if you were to grow to share his interest caring for these fascinating flora, something only you and he would share in this whole campus. Imagine…Just you and him alone together, standing close to each other as you admire his projects. 

Well, that’s what he imagined…but often fantasies do not match reality as he was not alone with you as he had hoped. 

“These are some funky lookin’ mushrooms ya got here” Grim narrowed his eyes on one of the colorful mushrooms that seems to have just fully matured. “Henchhuman, you think they’re edible?” 

“I personally don’t think so but you should ask Jade” you turned to Jade, the first time in a while he would add if he were the petty type. But of course he wasn’t. 

“I believe so but I have yet to test my theory on that” Jade smiled down at the small creature which sent shivers down his back. “Are you volunteering yourself for a taste test?”

“Nyah, as if!” Grim yelled out as he backed away from the menacing aura Jade was exuding. In his panic, the monster student accidentally ran his paw over a pair of scissors which snagged his fur and pulled from his skin painfully. Grim let out a painful yelp which made you rush over to your dormmate’s side, worriedly looking over your friend. “Grim, what happened?” 

“My beautiful fur! It got cut!” Grim made an inaccurate assumption but to his defense, it did sting really bad and you could see some of his fur on the pair of scissors. So, you proceeded to check over Grim’s paw for any wounds. 

Jade stood in the sidelines as he watched you handle the monster’s paw, gently sweeping the fur to check for any blood, even blowing on it to ease the poor creature’s pain. The eel merman slightly drooped his shoulders, this was his loss. 

Walking over, Jade picked up the offending scissors that caused all this fuss. His heterochromatic eyes inspected the tool as he admitted that it was getting dull and he should replace them soon or something like this may occur again… Oh? 

You heard something fall behind you which made you turn to know the source. You saw the pair of scissors that Jade picked up back on the floor and your ocean-haired senior was holding one of his hands in the other. “Jade?” 

“Oh dear, it seems that I have accidentally nicked myself as well” Jade looked at you with his best pleading eyes, holding his hand towards you. “Could you help me?” 

“…can’t you do it yourself?” 

“Ah, it hurts quite a bit I don’t think I could focus enough to check my wound” Jade sighed as he clutched his poor hand in his own. He looked to you with pleading eyes and despite your suspicions, you accepted to help your senior and carefully took Jade’s “injured” hand into your own. With your eyes focusing on searching for this supposed wound, Jade smiled as he shared a glance with Grim behind you which scared the poor creature. 

“It seems I have quite the challenge on my hands. How interesting” 

Riddle worked up the courage to invite you to spend the day with him alone and when you accepted, he made sure that everything was perfect. Only Trey was aware of your intimate outing since he offered to take up any non-urgent Housewarden work during Riddle’s day with you so no one else was aware that you and Heartslabyul's leader were meeting. 

Everything was going smoothly, albeit a little stiff in the beginning. Riddle was shocked by how nervous he was. The teacup in his hand was shaking in his grip as he sat just across from you from the small table. 

Eventually the atmosphere settled and soon the two of you relaxed and chatted over trivial topics, enjoying each other’s presence over anything. But alas, good things must come to an end, but not in the way Riddle had planned. Instead, your date was interrupted when the two of you heard a loud call of your name from a distance, from a very familiar voice

“Henchhuman, you went ahead and got grub without me?!” Grim accused you, immediately climbing onto your lap without your complaint. This was his natural seat after all. Then, more voices were heard coming close.

“Grim, there you are. Don’t run off like that- Ahh Housewarden!” Like a storm, Ace and Deuce walked into the once private space while running after Grim then froze in place when they noticed their senior, who seemed to be a really bad mood right now. “Sorry, Housewarden. Grim said he smelled something good and went running over” 

Apparently, Grim was getting hungry and since Ace and Deuce were short on money, the cat-like monster went on the hunt for any morsel of food and caught a whiff of the tarts Riddle had prepared. However, mere tidbits of sweets were not enough to satiate this monster’s blackhole of an appetite. 

“Let’s go to the shop, I want fancy tuna tonight!” Grim whined to you, lightly clawing at your shirt. 

Riddle wanted to scold the furry student for being shameless in his demands but you reassured the redheaded senior that this is a common occurrence, considering you were in charge of handling the allowance you receive from Crowley so Grim tends to ask you to buy things for him. 

“We can go see if Sam has any in stock” you smiled at your gluttonous dormmate then looking to Riddle “I’m sorry, Riddle. I had fun today but we should get going before Sam’s shop closes” 

Riddle, stunned in the sudden shift in his plans, could only offer a nod as you let Grim yank you away to walk faster towards the merchant’s store. He wanted to walk you home and perhaps invite you to another engagement with him. But in the end, he was left in your dust with his other Heartslabyul dormmates and very awkward silence. 

Though three students quickly turned to one as Ace and Deuce silently snuck away from the scene. After being in the Queen of Hearts-inspired house for a while, they can when to book it lest they want to be collared by their hot-tempered Housewarden. 

“I was caught off-guard by that surprise…I will take this as a learning experience for the future”    

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. swear words, cheating.

☆– i got inspired to write this angst while i was watching Grey's Anatomy, SPOILER ALERT, the episode where Alex leaves Jo and goes back with Izzy.

☆– okay, so, in this blog, we support old, grown up, calmed down mineta. i read a fanfic once (i can't remember the name! ill try to find it🙈) where mineta had cooled down his thirst for women and became a great friend (still with the double meaning of things, but funny actually), and i thought "okay, if we accept redeemed bakugou, we can accept redeemed mineta". in fanfiction, cuz he's still a stupid, hormonal kid in the manga/anime. so expect more cool mineta bestie here, cuz i like and enjoy double meaning humor. if it's not your cup of tea, you're welcome not to read this🤍

It takes a second, a breath, the entrance of air on your lungs to realize. To assimilate what happened, what it means.

"I brought a bottle of wine, some snacks and ice cream… Nothing heals the heart better than ice cream, talking about personal experience here," his voice says, but you're barely paying attention. You even saw him come into your apartment like it's his own, like he has done it thousands of times. But you don't leave your standing position by the door.

You saw the silhouette of Mineta, tall and broad shoulders through the peephole of the entrance door, and for a second you thought it was him. Even though they look nothing alike. But you thought… you wished it was him.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Reality hurts. 

Reality… is a bitch.

It takes a second to blink, to watch how everything changes, how everything falls apart in the simple action of closing and opening one's eyes.

You never thought it would happen to you. You thought he was it for you. You thought Bakugou Katsuki was going to be the one true love of your life. You trusted him. You gave him years of your life. Years where you thought he was the most amazing thing that ever happened to you. Years where you gave up dreams to help and support him in his dreams. And how does he thank you? Cheating. Choosing somebody else over you. Choosing her over you.

"I also heard hooking up with someone else also helps," Mineta jokes, snorting at his own ridiculous words. You know he is joking, he is your best friend and he has always joked this way. You know it. But… the heaviness in your chest doesn't know it. The pain in your heart doesn't know it.

"I'm not offering though… Don't take it personal, love. I love you and you're one the hottest hotties around here, but you're not exactly my type." He chuckles, taking the things he brought on bags over the counter of your kitchen.

You can see him from your position because it's not that far away, your apartment isn't big. When you and Bakugou went apartment hunting two months ago, you didn't want anything big and ostentatious. You simply wanted a home, whether that be a one room apartment.

It had been a home... Or so you thought.

Now, this apartment feels like a prison. A cell where it doesn't hold enough oxygen to breathe. Where every single corner reminds you of him. Where every single item and thing picked to decorate or to use, spoke about him. Him and you.

And there wasn't a "him and you" anymore.

Everything was a reminder of what him and you were.

There fucking isn't a "him and you" anymore.

"He left me," you breathe out, hand trembling over the doorknob.

Mineta turns around then. He sees you, shaking by the closed door at the entrance of your apartment. Hand holding the doorknob with strength, like your whole body depends on that contact to not fall apart. But your face… He has never seen you like this.

It's blank. And it's full of sentiment, emotions that hurt to actually see. Dark circles under your eyes. The skin of your face is pale, almost like a sick person; and that worries him. You're barely holding everything inside.

You are barely looking like your usual self.

Your breathing starts to agitate when you let go of the doorknob and turn your body a bit towards his direction. Then, your eyes find his.

"He… He just left me… And I–... I can't… I can't breathe," you finally cry.

You haven't cried since he confessed he had cheated on you with his ex-girlfriend, Uraraka Ochako. And that he has been doing it for three months. You did cry in that moment, but you haven't done it again. Not even when you broke the news to Mineta two days after–if you could describe your best friend's reaction, it would be murderous. It had been the first time you had seen Mineta Minoru that furious–. And you haven't even cried when you told Midoriya Izuku about what his actual girlfriend had been doing with your now ex-boyfriend. You remembered watching clearly the slow break of the number one Pro Hero's heart right through his eyes.

You haven't cried again until now. 

Why? Because today, you woke up to a message that said: "I'll pick up my stuff and leave the key at the apartment. I'll go in the morning when you're at work so I don't bother you." When you came back from work at 5pm today, Bakugou Katsuki had done as he promised. His clothes were no longer there, just more space for you to hang and organize your clothes. His computer set-up was no longer there, just an empty desk that you could use as your little home office. His shoes were no longer by the door, just empty space that you didn't know how to fill up.

The apartment is small, but it feels huge now that his things are no longer there.

You immediately texted Mineta: "S.O.S.", and it didn't take even an hour for him to appear with all this stuff he bought to make you feel better.

As you finally broke down on your knees, sobbing uncontrollably like you couldn't bring enough air to your lungs, Mineta knew any silly thing he could bring would be able to help you heal.

Because the only one able to heal this pain inside you… is yourself. 

But you're broken now. And Mineta's heart breaks with yours.

As he kneels beside you and holds you in his arms, he prays his friendship is enough to help you put yourself back together. And if not, Mineta prays to whatever exists up there that they send someone that can help you heal your heart with the devotion you deserve.

As you cry in your best friend's chest, you don't hear the little sound of a new notification on your phone. It's a message, that says:

"Hi, Y/N. It's Midoriya… I was just thinking that… only if you want to, if not it's okay… we could go grab a coffee together sometime. Just if you feel like it. Just… let me know if you want."

[elliyoyo]

Algophilia (Astarion Ancunin/Reader)

I have no explanation. The vampire seduced me just like he seduced you, I am also horny. Here you go.

Desc: You get very aroused by biting and the concept of being bitten. Astarion reveals his vampirism, and you both see an opportunity.

Warnings: Smut, pwp, p in v, fingering, oral (m receiving), biting, blood mention.

Words: ~2k

There, in the dim firelight, you see him for what he really is: a vampire. A slave to sanguine hunter. And it stirs something within you in a way you haven't felt in a long time— since before the tadpoles, at the very least.

“So… when was the last time you killed someone? Days? Hours?” You try to keep control of your breathing, but the excitement is building and your resolve is weakening.

“I’ve never killed anyone!”

You give him a look of disbelief, crossing your arms with an eyebrow raised. A vampire? Having never killed anyone? In the time he’s likely been around?

“Well… not for food. I feed on animals— boar, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get… but it’s not enough. Not if I have to fight— I feel so weak.” His brow furrows and he glares off into the distance, said weakness beginning to get to him. If this is going where you think it’s going, this is going to be the best chance encounter you could hope for.

“If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer— fight better… please…”

Bingo.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Astarion?”

“At best, I was sure you would say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs… No… I needed you to trust me— and you can trust me.”

“I do, and I do believe you. Out of everyone at camp, I know my back is covered the best when I’m traveling with you.” His serious look falters for a moment and you see him soften up a bit as he continues.

“Good… Good… Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a bit further?” He tilts his head slightly before going on, “I only need a taste, I swear.”

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need— can’t be dying on everyone after coming this far.” Your words are much more contained than your thoughts, which are running wild and free, wandering off to the point where you honestly couldn’t care if he killed you. You knew he’d bring you back, especially if you were going to be the first humans he’s had the pleasure of tasting.

“Really?” His eyes light up, but also hold some suspicion as to why you haven’t reacted like he suspected everyone always would. “I… Okay, not a drop more.” He slowly comes in closer, nodding to himself, likely telling himself that this is finally it. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

He takes your hands and leads you to your bedroll, looming over you as you crawl up to your makeshift pillow. In a moment of quick thinking, you untie the top two laces of your nightshirt, giving him some more surface area to work with. You attempt to make eye contact, but Astarion is sizing your neck up and, no doubt, fantasizing about how delicious and sweet your blood will taste on his tongue.

“Go ahead, Astarion. I’m ready,” you gently declare, grabbing onto the ruffles of his own nightshirt.

“Ready? Just so you’re aware, this won’t turn you into a vampire, it’s just me feeding off of you…”

“No, I know, I just… Go ahead…”

And so he does, sinking his fangs into the soft flesh of your neck with no further hesitation. It’s like a sharp, pin-pointed icy explosion at the entry site, and you can’t help but clench your thighs together and yelp at the sensation. The ice soon turns to fire and you feel like you have alchemist’s fire coursing through your veins, igniting every nerve.

“Astarion, this is ecstasy,” you moan, tightening your grip on his shirt and bringing your hips up to grind against his leg for any friction you could get. “You can bite down more, please, bite down more!”

And bite down more, he does. It’s like you can feel your heartbeat throughout your whole body, rhythmic, pulsating, alive. Astarion also seems to be out of sorts, focusing on the sweet nectar of life pouring from the puncture wounds he’s made. Focusing on how powerful and rejuvenated you make him feel, especially in comparison to the fodder at the mansion or the wildlife he’d caught as of late.

“Would it— ah— can I have… I want you, Astarion,” you push out through quick breaths. “While you’re… biting me… if you would…”

He pulls back long enough for his eyes to glaze over and blood to start dripping down his chin. He seems to blank for a moment, but in the blink of an eye, he’s back to his normal seductive self with a, “Want me? Want me how, darling, what exactly do you want? Use your words.”

“Anything. Anything, anything, anything, please.”

His hand slithers up your leg and stops at the front of your pants, rubbing gentle circles right where you need it. You groan in relief and buck up against him, getting greedy off the bat. He smirks up at you from the nape of your neck and digs back in, relishing in the raw, sexual energy you’re exuding.

“In, please, Astarion, in me,” you whine out, putting a hand over his to give yourself a greater pressure to grind on.

“Oh, the only thing I adore more than your blood is the sound of you begging— I have no choice but to give you what you want,” he coos, giving you what you asked for and then some. His fingers work a mile-a-minute, dipping underneath your pants and undergarments to coat them in your slick before slipping in. You can’t help but yelp at the intrusion, but seconds go by and yelping turns to groaning, then groaning turns into bitten back swears escaping your mouth. Still toying with you, his fangs slip right back into the marks he’d left before. Overwhelmed by the mix of pain and pleasure, you have an instantaneous full-body religious experience type of orgasm that you’d never felt before.

“Astarion, where in the Hells did you pick that up?”

In response, he clamps down even harder, effectively shutting you up and eliciting a wonderful tightening around his fingers. Obviously, not a topic to talk about right now, but you weren’t looking to talk anyway, so you had no problem with shutting up. However, he retracts once more, feeling that soon he won’t be able to stop himself before he drains you. Who honestly knows if you’re trying to play him, use him, like everyone else, or if you’re genuinely out of your mind horny for him— but he didn’t care regardless. He was missing the touch, the feel, the pseudo-passion, and he never got to be the one in control anyway. This chance was a lonesome, steaming apple pie innocently left on the windowsill, and he was not beyond stealing.

“Lift your hips up for me,” he commands, and in no time, he’s got you in nothing but your underwear. He takes a moment, not quite admiring, but just watching the light from the fire drench your skin and illuminate your figure. Eyes drifting from plump lips to bloodied, open neck— marked by him, by him— to bare chest to rock solid nipples down to the curvature of your hips to sweet, soft legs. He can’t see himself, but you were a sight to behold. Nothing like anyone who he’d previously manipulated for Cazador, you were somehow special.

“Do you… want me to do anything for you? I don’t want this to be all about me.”

No one in who knows how long has ever asked him if he’d wanted to get in on the pleasure. He wasn’t allowed, as Cazador’s both favorite and least favorite spawn. He was happy to exercise the new freedom and finally, consensually get a mind-blowing blowjob.

“I would adore a little topping off, if you would, sweetness.” He traces his thumb from your bottom lip down to your jaw, tipping your head up to give him the space to kiss the now-dried shower of coagulated blood. He laps up whatever he can then presses one last kiss to your collarbone before sitting back to pop his trousers open and pull the seam at the top of his underwear.

You push yourself up and off of your bedroll and and move your makeshift pillow to use as padding for your knees. Before you touch anything, you press a gentle kiss to his the top of his tip and smile up at him, making sure he didn’t look uncomfortable.

“Return the favor afterwards?” You look directly up at Astarion, locking your eyes with his as you wrap your fingers around his base and begin suckling on his head.

“I could…” His head falls back and his hand finds itself on the back of your head, not pushing you down, just playing with the loose strands. “But I could also come to you in the middle of the night— surprise you, spring myself upon you and devour you. Would you care if anyone heard? The precious leader being lapped at and controlled by the evil, scary vampire?” As he continues his fantasy, you begin taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth, the bloodlessness helping with suppressing any gagging. “I’d wait till dark. Let everyone fall asleep, sneak into your tent… Then I’d taste, no… Ravage you.”

You look up at him, locking eyes as you take him completely down, desperately trying to convince him that he could have all that and more right now. He tuts and finally puts pressure on the back of your head, relishing in the feeling of you gagging and choking around him. “Don’t you worry, I’d leave enough of you to come back— ah, shit— for more.”

While it doesn’t last terribly long, it’s enough for him to reach his finish, where he pulls fully back and paints your face in ropes of heat. He puts a hand on your cheek, smearing his cum across your cheek and grinning down at you, completely breathless. He simply wipes himself off with his shirt, but he takes his time, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to give you a more thorough clean.

“Now you have to come steal away to my tent some night, after that.” You laugh, putting yourself back together as he does the same. You take a peek around, and no one seems to have been disturbed, leaving you two a rare private moment. “I’d… really like that. If my blood helps, it would be useful to keep meeting up like this.”

“Oh, I feel wonderful now— I got fresh blood that squirmed on my fingers and finished me off, I’m practically a new man,” he lulls, already starting to stalk off to his tent. “Ta ta, get yourself all rested and recovered for tomorrow.” With that, he disappears, winking and smirking at you as he retreats.

You could barely process what just happened. The wounds on your neck barely feel real, even as you skim your fingertips over them. And you were in for more, apparently, so you barely slept, just imagined how Astarion was going to deliver tomorrow.

[writeforfandoms]

Run Wild 5

Find the series masterlist

Your pack insists on making your life both easier and harder, and you're not entirely sure how to feel about things. The situation doesn't improve when you and Horangi go on an op together.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to animal cruelty, Mink is having a hard time with her emotions, pack dynamics, shifter dynamics, flirting.

Word count: 2.8k

The next few days passed in a blur. You couldn't have recited what you did if someone held you at gunpoint. 

But you didn't spend a lot of time with your pack. The two men. 

You weren't avoiding them, really. Not intentionally. Not really. 

You just…

Your cheeks puffed out as you dropped to the dirt, going through a training exercise with a squad. No König today. No Horangi today. 

Just training exercises.

You just needed to clear your head, that was all. 

Breathing slowly, you focused on your task. Just a little longer and you'd be done for the day. 

At least, that was the plan. 

Until Horangi met you at the end of your exercise, arms crossed loosely over his chest, sunglasses as impenetrable as ever. You blinked at him. 

“Come with me.” He uncrossed his arms, fingers twitching briefly. You nodded, falling in behind him, absently brushing yourself off. 

He led you inside to the offices, though he didn't slow down even as your nose twitched in curiosity. You hadn't been in here often, and you wanted to explore. But Horangi didn't give you any time, just turning down a hallway, expecting you to follow him. 

Which you did. Of course. 

He stepped into a conference room and shut the door after you. König was already there waiting, leaned back against a wall, gaze fixed on the two of you. 

“How are your recon skills?” Horangi turned to you as he asked, removing his sunglasses. The better to watch you, eyes dark and just a little narrowed. 

“Good,” you said slowly, gaze darting between your two packmates. “Better if I can shift.” 

Horangi nodded once, holding your gaze for a long moment before you blinked and looked away. “Good. We'll be going out on recon.” 

“When?” You stood up a little straighter. 

“Tomorrow. Briefing is officially in half an hour.” Horangi took one step closer to you, fingers closing around your wrist gently. “We will be the only two going in.”

“Two?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“I am not as skilled at recon,” König rumbled, faintly embarrassed. “I am too loud.” 

Horangi chuffed, amused and fond. “Two,” he confirmed, still watching you closely. “Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir.” You refocused on your alpha, head tipping slowly to one side. “I can do it.” 

His eyes crinkled the smallest amount, like he was smiling under the mask. “You don't even know what it is yet,” he teased. 

You shrugged. “I can still do it,” you asserted with a brief flash of teeth. “I can do quiet.” 

“Hm.” Horangi nodded again and released your wrist. “Get cleaned up, meet back here in twenty-five.”

You nodded, though for a moment you stood still, just looking at him. His eyes would be covered again for the briefing, you knew. So you soaked in the trust he showed for a moment longer before you stepped around him and left.

You had to clean up, after all. 

But you made it back with two minutes to spare, sinking down into the seat next to Horangi. König was gone, though you didn't have a chance to do more than shoot Horangi a questioning look. 

The briefing was, well, brief. Shorter than you'd expected, actually. You were being sent in to find some information, very quiet. Just you and Horangi, as he'd warned you before. 

You didn't mind. You were good at recon. 

The building was isolated, meaning a trip in a helo, then a drive. The two of you had a few hours before you'd leave, which gave you time to grab a few necessities. 

The knock at your door startled you, and you paused with your hoodie in your hands. But you opened the door after a moment, curiosity winning. 

König stood in the doorway, filling the entire thing, looking even broader than normal. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, seeming uncertain. 

“König?” You blinked up at him. “Can I help you with something?” 

He shook his head, hood shifting with the movement. “Here.” He thrust one hand at you, gloved fingers curled around a piece of fabric. 

You took the fabric carefully, surprised at how soft it was. An old bandana, blue and black. Curious, you lifted your gaze to König again. 

He shrugged, now-empty hand reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “Just in case,” he mumbled, gaze dropping. 

“Thank you.” You pulled it closer, rubbing your thumb against it. “I'll bring it back.”

He shook his head again. “It's yours,” he said, speaking faster now. “A gift.” 

Your lips parted, because that? Was very different from something borrowed. 

“You will be late,” König fussed, taking a step back from the doorway. “Don't keep Horangi waiting.” 

Before you could gather your thoughts to say anything, he was gone, long strides carrying him down the corridor and away from you. 

You blew out a breath, letting your cheeks puff out. Well then. 

He'd given you a gift. Something personal, given how soft the bandana was. And judging by the fact his scent had permeated the fabric entirely, as proven when you lifted it to your nose. 

This was… unexpected. 

But he was right, you didn't want to make Horangi wait. You hurried through getting ready, throwing your hoodie on last. Since this was a recon op, you were dressed down, no longer in uniform. Which suited you just fine. 

Horangi was waiting for you at the helo, dark eyes giving you a swift once-over before he nodded his approval. He motioned you in first, settling next to you for the ride. 

It felt odd to see him without his sunglasses - he wore them constantly, even sometimes in the pack room. 

You only realized you'd been looking too long when one dark eyebrow arched at you. 

“Something on your mind?” The words were almost teasing. 

“Eh. Sort of.” You shrugged, forcing yourself to look away. “Just not used to seeing, y'know, that much of your face.” 

He snorted softly, one hand landing on your knee. “If you spent more time in the pack room you'd see more,” he murmured, definitely amused now. 

You huffed, playing at being indignant. “Yeah, sure.”

He eyed you but didn't push. For once. Instead he kept his hand on your knee for the rest of the flight. 

The drive was a couple hours, and he wordlessly got in the driver's seat, leaving the passenger side for you. You briefly debated laying down for a nap in the back… but gave up on that immediately. You'd rather spend the time with Horangi.

“König gave me a gift,” you blurted, without really meaning to. 

Horangi nodded. “I know.” 

“He told you?” 

“He didn't need to.” 

You eyed him but he didn't look at you, hands steady on the wheel. “Did you talk about it before?”

Horangi hummed softly, gaze flitting to you. “Briefly, yes.” 

You weren't quite sure how to feel about that, and so simply huffed softly. 

“If you came into the pack room more often…” He trailed off.

“You've mentioned.” You blew out a breath. “I guess I'll have to.” 

You almost missed the flicker of his lips into the barest smile. Almost. 

But that humor was nowhere to be found when the two of you reached your destination. Horangi parked the car, and you took a moment to stretch. Dawn was still a few hours off yet, giving the two of you plenty of time to get this op done. As long as things didn't go totally sideways. 

The last section of the journey was on foot, Horangi taking the lead. When he glanced back at you, you could just see the reflection in his eyes, undeniably green. Your lips twitched. What a cat, indeed. 

The smell hit you first, and your nose wrinkled against your will. Filth and waste left to sit too long, the faint tang of rusted metal overlaying it. The animal musk seemed out of place, but then again, this far out from a city any number of critters could be living around the building. The building was long and squat, single story, no lights on. 

“Here.” Horangi stopped at a window that had been left open a crack. “This will be the bathroom.” 

You nodded, recalling the map the two of you had gone over hours earlier. “Ten minutes,” you agreed. 

No more words passed between you as he boosted you up, and you pushed the window the rest of the way open to twist through. It was easier without gear in the way, but also left your shoulders and back tingling with the knowledge that you had nothing but fabric between you and any potential attack. 

But you were good at being quiet and sneaky, as proven when you made your way through the building. Nothing moved around you as you crept down the hallway, checking your doors and corners as you went. 

The smell got worse the further into the building you went. You opened the door at the end of the hallway and paused for a long moment, swallowing hard. 

The big empty room you'd seen in the plans was not empty. Instead it held a dozen or so metal cages, each one housing a small furry critter. A few of them moved as you did, eyes opening and feet shifting. 

Intel had been wrong about this room, and you wished you'd never seen it. But you had to push through to finish your task. 

You swallowed hard and crept around the outside of the room, focusing only on being quiet and avoiding any cameras. You couldn't worry about the animals, not right now. 

The office, at least, was exactly where it was supposed to be. It took moments to find and grab the documents you needed, lips curling. Well. At least Horangi would be pleased with you. 

Doing one more check of the room to be sure you had everything, you turned to go. 

Soft chittering made you stop. 

You couldn't understand the animals in the cages, no more than any human versed in body language could. But you could feel more empathy towards them. 

They didn't deserve this. But you needed to get out without leaving any sign of your passage. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't loose the animals in the cages. 

Jaw clenching, you forced your feet to move. Maybe you'd see if Horangi would let you come back and take care of the animals later. That was the best you could do, right now. 

The trip back through the dark building was silent, and you hoisted yourself up to the window, hanging half-out to hand the documents to Horangi. He looked amused when you slithered the rest of the way out. 

“Well done,” he murmured with an approving nod to you. Warmth filled your chest at the simple praise, and you basked in it for a moment. 

“Seemed pretty easy,” you murmured cautiously as the two of you snuck away again. “I mean, for us.” 

Horangi chuckled, dark eyes glancing at you. “Sometimes things are easy,” he murmured. “We're not paying for it.” 

You shrugged. Something still seemed wrong, but if he wasn't concerned, you weren't going to make a fuss about it. 

“You could sleep,” Horangi offered, even as he turned on the car to drive the two of you away. 

“Nah. I'll wait.” You stretched out a little in the seat, head leaning back against the headrest. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hints of sunrise, promising more. “Where are we stopping?”

“Safehouse,” Horangi answered, even though you were pretty sure you were supposed to remember that from the briefing. “In case we need to go back.” 

You hummed acknowledgement of that, glancing at him. Time alone with your pack alpha. You weren't entirely sure how to feel about that. 

“Promise I won't bite.” He flashed you a grin with teeth. 

You laughed, quiet but amused. “Ah yes, very reassuring.” 

He smirked, fingers flexing on the wheel. “Nervous?”

“Not particularly.” You grinned. “You had your chance to murder me in the middle of nowhere.”

He chuffed at you, briefly letting go of the wheel to pat your knee. “Won't be my only chance.” 

You laughed as his touch retreated again, leaving you warm and more relaxed than you should be. But you were learning to trust him, to give him bits of yourself. 

It was a heady feeling. 

The safehouse was boring, as most safehouses in your experience were. But it was warmer than outside and had blackout curtains, which would come in handy since the sun was up. 

You left Horangi in the main room to scout the rest of the place. Not that there was much to see - a single bedroom, a bathroom that König would have been absolutely squished in, and a hall closet with spare supplies. Nothing glamorous. But it would do. 

“Get some rest,” Horangi told you, sprawled along the length of the couch like a, well, cat. “I'll be up for a while.” 

You eyed him for a moment, debating how much you could push. “You'll rest soon?”

“Yes.” Far from appearing offended, Horangi smiled, just a little. 

You blinked at him, startled, warmth building in your chest at the sight of that smile. And promptly fled back to the bedroom. 

You absolutely should not like the sight of his smile that much. It wasn't that big a deal. It really wasn't. 

You were still trying to convince yourself of that when you dropped off to sleep. 

You woke before Horangi, sneaking past him to get some water. He'd managed to fall asleep on the couch, legs dangling over one arm, head tipped at an angle and torso twisted into some weird position that only a cat could enjoy. Shaking your head, you twisted the top off a water bottle, guzzling half of it in one go. 

Hopefully the two of you would get to head back to base today. Not that you minded being in a safehouse with him, but… it felt weird. Just the two of you, and no König. 

It was odd to leave a pack member out. 

Which was weird for you - it had been a long time since you'd been part of a pack, and longer since leaving someone out was even an option. All these realizations made you antsy, eager to do something, just so you weren't trapped in your own head. 

“You think too loudly.” 

You absolutely didn't jump at Horangi's voice behind you. You definitely didn't drop your water. “When did you wake up?” You asked him, eyeing him over the back of the couch. He hadn't moved at all. 

“I've been awake.”

“Liar.”

His lips twitched into another smile, small but very much there. You had to look away as heat suffused your face. 

“Any updates this morning?” You cleared your throat, picking up your water bottle and tossing it from hand to hand. 

“Not yet.” Horangi swung his legs around the side, sitting up and cracking his neck. “We'll hang tight a little longer.” 

You shrugged, wandering around the room aimlessly, too restless to settle. 

“Sit.” Horangi patted the couch next to him. “You can answer a few questions for me.” 

Well. That wasn't ominous at all. But you sat anyway. 

“What do you need in the pack room?”

You blinked at him, mouth dropping open a little. That… was not what you'd expected. “What?”

“You heard me.” His lips twitched again, eyes warm with amusement. 

Surprised, you leaned back against the couch, watching him. But he didn't change the question, didn't restate it. Just waited. 

“Not sure,” you settled on, a little cautious. “I don't need much.” 

Horangi made a short, dismissive noise at that. “Everyone needs something,” he insisted, head tipping to one side, gaze fixed on you. 

You blew out a noisy breath. You'd never given it any thought, if you needed anything in the pack room. “I don't… really know,” you admitted slowly. 

Horangi nodded slowly, never looking away from you. “Then we will figure it out.” 

You swallowed hard, the implication that he wasn't going anywhere, that he and König would help, bringing both a rush of joy and trepidation. You honestly weren't sure how to feel, now. 

Fortunately, you didn't have to figure it out. The phone rang. 

You moved away as Horangi made a face, reaching over the couch to grab his pack and the phone. You went back to the window to look outside, only half paying attention to the phone conversation. 

You needed to get your head on straight. Or move. 

“Time to go.” Horangi stood, shouldering his bag. 

You followed him silently back to the car, looking out the window without really seeing anything.

[abbyromanoff]

I'd like to request subby Nat x reader smut please ☺

Done For

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 1453

Warnings: smut, bondage, daddy kink, bottom!Nat, vibrators, fingering, mentions of face-riding, punishments, pet names, small pet play, edging, mentions of overstimulation, breast play, think that’s it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“C’mon, doll, you can do it.” You said, watching as the redhead withered and shook beneath you. Her arms were tied to the headboard and her legs were kept spread out on your shoulders. She was nearly squeezing your head with her strong yet chubby thighs.

“No, I- ah! Daddy, I can’t anymore!” She whined out, her stomach hurting with how badly she needed to cum.

“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to act out in front of everyone.” You said, continuing to tease the vibrator up and down her folds before pressing it down on her pulsing clit.

You two had gone to the store earlier in hopes of finding a few quick groceries for the dinner you had planned, but Nat wasn’t listening. At first, she was compliant, begging to go to the store with you and prancing around while holding onto your hand. That was until she saw it, her favorite aisle, the teddy bear aisle. She went off, releasing her hand from your hold and running over to the large pen of stuffies in the middle of the lane. She grabbed them all, not seeming to recognize your annoyed face from when she latched off of you.

“Please?! Look at how cute he is!” She showed the polar bear teddy in your face before placing it gently in the cart, not wanting to hurt the object. You tried calming yourself before answering her by taking a deep breath and grabbing the plush, placing it back in the bin, and watching as her face fell.

“Don’t you think you have enough, sweetheart?” You ran your hands over her cheek, smiling at her adorable pout. That was until she snatched your hand and threw it off of her face.

“But I want this one!” She was starting to draw a few wandering eyes and you smiled apologetically to them before they returned their attention to whatever was at their hands.

“Nat, you better lower your voice and lose that attitude.” She grabbed the teddy once more and placed it in the cart with a scowl your way. You widened your eyes at her newfound behavior, she was never one to act out, usually being considered an angel by many including you.

“If you put this back and get rid of that face, I won’t be so mean when we get home, got it?” She didn’t listen, only crossing her arms over her chest and sending you glares.

“Don’t make me count to three, Natasha.” That made her stance loosen up a bit. You never called her by her full name, not even when she was being punished. She knew she fucked up, but now it was too late to redeem herself.

“1.” She didn’t move.

“2.” Only a small flinch came out of her face when your sharp voice hit her eardrums.

“3.” Fuck. That was it. No more chances, no more playing nice, she was done for.

“Such a stupid little girl. Here I was planning to reward you for being such a good pet, I was even considering getting you that stuffed animal. That was until you ruined it.” Moans were pouring out of her at lightning speed. Anytime she tried to muster something out it was to be interrupted by her alluring voice.

“Pl- ugh! Please, Daddy. I won’t do it again, I swear!” The vibrator was at the highest setting at this point. It was like you knew her body better than she did. You knew exactly when to lower it and exactly when to increase the buzzing speed.

“And how can I believe you, Natty? You told me that if I let you go to the store with me that you’d be good, and you broke that promise as well. You think I can trust you now, hm?” She shook her head, trying to force herself away from the toy but wanting nothing more than to chase after it. Her arms were aching with how long she had been stuck in this position, forced not to cum all because you had said so. She’d do anything you asked, but she was near breaking point.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I really am!”

“That’s it? Where’d my tough little girl back at the store go?” She winced at your words, the wetness only growing from the harsh and degrading words you let out.

“Aww, does that make you all wet and sticky, honey? It’s alright, Daddy’s almost done.” The only thing on her mind was you and it was not helping her with holding back. She wanted to release right then and there, but she knew it would only pull her into a deeper hole that she already dug for herself. Maybe you’d bend her over your lap, make her count as you spanked her until her ass was red. Maybe you’d blindfold her and use her over and over, successfully overstimulating her on end. Or maybe you’d sit at the end of the bed, keeping her tied up as you played with yourself. The vibrator currently being used on her would be replaced by your cunt. Watching as you finish without her, showing she has no use to you.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, love.” You noticed her distracted state and couldn’t help but be curious. There was a small sense of worry in your tone, but you played it off well.

“You..” She whispered, her voice ending up being too high-pitched due to the moan her mouth let out, which led you to hear her oh so well.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, doll. Tell me what it is about me that has you so distracted, Nat.” Your fingers found place on her breasts, pinching and tweaking the hardened buds as she twitched.

“Daddy, it hurts.” You only chuckled dryly, enjoying the way her cheeks were red with tears.

“But you’re just so, so pretty when you cry, pretty girl.” You asked her once more to tell you what she was thinking and she knew she had to listen if she wanted to ever get to cum.

“I-I was thinking about you and how you’d handle me.” Her voice wavered the more she spoke.

“Oh? And how exactly would I handle you?” You noticed how close she was getting, turning down the setting of the toy and watching as she cried out even more. You took your thumb and wiped her tears before returning it to her nipples and smearing the wetness over them both, a small glow illuminating from the watery substance.

“The longer you take to answer me, the longer I make you wait to cum.”

“I’m sorry! I was thinking about you punishing me, and how rough you’d- ah! How rough you’d be with your little girl.” She bit down on her lip, nearly drawing blood.

“Yeah? You like when Daddy’s rough? You like being my little whore, just desperate for anything I could give you?” She nodded quickly, feeling the toy's speed increase as you continued your teasing to her breasts. You lowered your head to her chest and took one nipple in your mouth, keeping eye contact with her while she panted heavily.

“Maybe I should just,” You spoke, pecking her bud once again before finishing your statement. “Ride this beautiful face of yours. Not let you cum until I do. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You reached out to stroke her cheek, speaking in a low and seductive voice. You moved your mouth to her neglected breast and repeated your actions.

“Yes! I’d love it so much, Daddy!” Your free hand went to tease her hole, the other still pressing the vibrator against her clit. You slid into her with ease, she was so wet.

“Fuck, baby, ‘could stick my whole hand in here and you’d still make it fit.” Your second finger soon joined, the two pumping in and out of her relentlessly.

“You wanna cum that badly, baby girl?”

“Y-yes! Please, I promise I’ll be good.” You couldn’t resist that adorable face of hers and gave in.

“Cum for me.” Her juices spilled onto you, coating your fingers and the toy with her release. Her head was thrown back in pleasure, her eyes closed as she was practically seeing stars. You wished your eyes could take pictures so you could capture this very moment and play it back on repeat.

“That’s it, just ride it out.” When she had finally come back to her senses, your fingers were still pumping inside of her rapidly.

“Mm, Daddy, ‘m too sore.” She wasn’t able to escape your grasp and you wouldn’t let her either.

“Oh, my dumb little pup, did you really think I’d let you off that easily?”

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

A Christmas Visitor - Modern!Jace Velaryon x Reader

Summary: Jace takes it upon himself to cheer you up for your first Christmas spent alone.

Pairing: Modern! Jace Velaryon x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: fluffy boyfriend Jace, profanity, blowjob, face fucking, degradation, mentions of masturbation (both f and m) (let me know if i missed anything out!)

Word Count: 1.92k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) this one is for those Jace girlies out there ;) I hope you enjoy!

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

It was set to be a lonely Christmas for you. 

But honestly? You had no one to blame but yourself. You were the one who had decided to migrate to another continent entirely for university, whilst most of your friends had stayed in King’s Landing, or other parts of Westeros, including your boyfriend, Jace Velaryon. 

But Braavos University was undoubtedly the best university in the known world to pursue a degree in economics, and when you had gotten the acceptance email, Jace had urged you to go, telling you that you would be an idiot if you passed up on the chance. 

Braavos was a wonderful place: a melting pot of different cultures, interesting architectural structures, along with an intriguing history. You loved studying and living here, but at times, especially now, during the festive season, you especially missed home. You missed seeing Jace’s wonderful, handsome, smiling face, missed his kisses, his hugs, his warmth, his everything. 

In a video call with your boyfriend a few days ago, you had expressed how much you’d missed him, and he had given you a sad smile in return. 

“I miss you too, honey,” Jace said earnestly, covering his headphones’ speakers again when a loud noise erupted from behind him. You winced at the feedback from the mic. “Cregan, hey bud, mind keeping it down a little?” Jace called out. “I’m video calling my girlfriend here.” 

“Sorry dude!” A manly voice that was most definitely not Cregan called back, and you had to stifle a laugh at Jace’s knowing, disgusted look. “Ugh, these animals, I swear,” Jace joked, turning his attention back to you. His expression softened. “Hey honey, I know it’s hard on you. I wish there was something I can do to make you feel better.” 

You smiled, trying to cheer up a bit for his sake. “It’s alright, really. I’m doing fine here, I’m just being a bit mopey because I miss you and stuff.” 

“Aww,” Jace blew you a kiss through the computer screen. “I miss you too, honey. Uni life just isn’t the same without you. But you are still coming back for summer break, right?” 

You nodded, blowing back a kiss to him. “Yeah, of course I am. I can’t wait-“ A crash and a gruff laugh sounded from behind Jace, and Jace’s eyes widened as he turned back to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on. “Jace, buddy, I might need some help here!” A voice that was definitely Cregan groaned out. 

“I’m sorry babe, I gotta go,” Jace said apologetically. “Trust those guys to get wild when I’m trying to call my girlfriend.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you tried to stifle a giggle. “You’re like their mom, you know.” “Am not,” Jace pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “I’ll video call you on Christmas, alright? I love you, baby.” 

“Love you too, Jacey.” You blew him a kiss back before your computer screen went dark, and you sighed, slumping back in your seat. Video calling him had somehow made you miss him even more. 

But alas, such was life. When the morning sunlight streamed through your dorm windows on Christmas Day, you had already carefully planned out your day. 

“Okay, so,” you tapped your pencil on your paper, filled with a list of the things you wanted to do. First, I go across the campus to get those delicious pretzels from Lancelot’s Bakery, then I head to the grocery shop to get myself some chicken to cook chicken Alfredo pasta for lunch. Then-“ 

A knock at your dorm room caused you to look up from your list, puzzled. Your dorm mates had all left for their own homes for the holidays, so who could that be? You set down your pencil, moving to open the door. “Yes-?” Your jaw dropped when you saw who it was standing outside the door. 

“Jace!” You let out a cry of delight at your boyfriend’s warm, smiling face. The smile that you had missed so much. 

“Hey, baby-“ Jace barely had time to finish his sentence before you launched yourself at him, jumping into his arms and kissing him hungrily. Jace nearly staggered under your weight, hands going to stabilise you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He savoured the taste of your lips, feeling you melt against him and nearly tearing up when you realised that he was real. 

Oh, how he missed you. How he missed this. 

Jace quickly brought you into your dorm room, kicking the door shut behind him as he didn’t break the kiss. He set you down on the edge of the desk that you were writing on, tongue tangling eagerly with yours. “Mmm, I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, fumbling for the zipper of the shorts that you were wearing. “I missed your lips, your scent, your pussy…” 

You let out a laugh, breaking the kiss to rest your forehead against his. “Someone’s eager, huh?” 

“Don’t act like you aren’t,” Jace chided, chuckling as he pulled your shorts off. “Nearly six months without you has been absolute torture. I had to stroke my own dick almost every night for the first few months you know.” A pleasant shiver shot through you at the imagery: Jace stroking himself to the thought of you every day, groaning as he spilled himself in his hand. 

“Sounds like I should make it up to you then,” you said slyly, pushing yourself off the desk and getting on your knees. Jace’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, radiant, rosy, glowing, down on your knees in front of him. Where you belong. 

You made fast work of his jeans, unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans and boxers down in one go. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight of his length, long and leaking with precum. You ran your fingers along the vein in his cock, teasing him, and Jace groaned, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Baby…don’t be a tease,” Jace’s voice was low, pleading. You simply laughed, looking cheeky as you debated on whether you should give him what he wanted. 

Jace nearly saw stars when your hot mouth got to work on his dick, licking the underside of it, letting the precum collect on your tongue. His grip in your hair tightened. “Love…” 

Slowly, you began to take his cock into your mouth. The loud, scandalous, squelching noise of you taking his dick inch by inch reverberated throughout your empty dorm room, making Jace grow even harder, if that was even possible. He had dreamt of this moment so many times for the last few months…

He made a low, strangled noise in his throat as you hollowed out your cheeks to accommodate even more of him, trying not to gag in the meantime. His fingers tangled even deeply into your hair, “That’s it, that’s fucking it. Take all of me in,” Jace encouraged you. “You can do it. You’re a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

Your answering nod caused your head to bob on his dick a little, and Jace moaned at the sight. He could just die happy now. 

“Can I fuck your face, sweetheart?” Jace asked tenderly, but you knew that his tone of voice, while friendly, left no room for negotiation. So you only looked up at him with those adorable doe eyes, and nodded slightly. Jace smirked, pulling out a bit before thrusting himself back into your throat. 

He continued to fuck your face, going slow and gentle at first, then his thrusts grew more and more erratic as he felt your hot little mouth envelop his dick just so perfectly. The sound of your fingers playing with your pussy as he face-fucked you however, drew him back to attention again. 

“Hey,” he slapped your cheek lightly, getting your attention as you looked up at him with wide eyes, having been caught. “You’re not allowed to touch that pussy as I face fuck you.” Your expression of dismay almost made him feel bad. 

Almost. 

“No touching yourself, sweetheart. Or else I won’t let you cum later, you understand?” Your eyes teared up a little, and Jace watched you with a smirk as your expression grew desperate, but you could simply nod obediently, knowing that Jace would make good on that promise. 

“Good girl,” he soothed you, before thrusting into your mouth even harder, faster. 

Your moans were muffled by his cock, but Jace let his unfiltered noises echo throughout the room, his curses and groans and praises only making you wetter. “Yeah, that’s it, baby…taking this dick like a pro, huh? What a dirty little slut you are.” 

You could barely speak with his dick in your mouth, and Jace could feel himself getting closer as he watched your tits bounce in that skimpy top you had on. He couldn’t wait to have his hands and mouth all over them, kissing and biting and sucking on your hardened buds. The thought alone was enough to send him over the edge, and when you began playing with his balls, he completely lost it. 

Letting out a rough moan, he spilled himself in you, his hot load shooting down your throat. The vibrations of your muffled moans around his cock made it feel even better. 

He pulled out, watching your dazed, blissed out face. Gently tilting your chin up to face him, he ordered you, “Swallow all that for me, sweetheart.” 

Obligingly, you did so, and Jace let out a sigh of pleasure. “Good girl. Come here.” He helped you up from your knees, gently hoisting you up onto the desk again while rubbing your red knees with his thumbs like a perfect gentleman. Then, his hands found his way to your cheek again, and his lips to yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, and he groaned into your mouth, hand going to palm at your tits through the fabric of your top. 

“Best Christmas present I could ask for,” he murmured, sweetly pecking you on the lips. “Which reminds me,” you brought up, voice a bit hoarse after that intense face-fucking. “How’d you get here?” 

“I flew out, duh.” You smacked Jace’s shoulder at that non-serious response. “Ow. I flew out all the way for you, and you abuse me like this?” Jace rubbed his hot shoulder, looking like a kicked puppy. “Hurts me right in my feelings, baby.” 

“I’m serious,” you pressed, and Jace laughed, kissing your pouting lips. “I don’t know, you just looked so sad over the video call…I just had to come and see you.” 

“And your family was cool with it?” Jace laughed again, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “Mom’s always chill about it, don’t worry. And you know my little brothers; they always act like they’re happy to be rid of me.” 

“But for now,” Jace’s lips met yours again, searing, wanting. “Can we stop talking about how I got here and focus on worshipping you instead?” You giggled, tightening your arms around his neck. “Well, in that case-“ 

A clatter outside your door made you and Jace freeze in your tracks, wide eyes going to the door. “What was that-“ 

“My suitcase!” Jace exclaimed, a panicked look on his face as someone outside bellowed. “Who left their fucking suitcase in the middle of the hall?” 

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at the sight of abject horror on Jace’s face as he rushed to the door to apologise to whatever poor soul had tripped over his suitcase. 

Best Christmas you could ever ask for.

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for jace related works, or just my works in general in the comments or through this form! :) 

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Watching a movie with Han ‗ ❍

Pairing : Han Jisung x f reader

Summary : chapter five of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, suggestive but no actual smut, everyone yaps and is a nerd, homebody! Jisung is real, some swear words

Word count : 600 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Watching anything, not just a movie, but a tv show, an anime, a short, a music video, literally anything, is an experience.

Each one unique and requiring at least a whole five minutes of commentary.

He's the kind of guy who feels like his life changed completely after viewing a certain product. He will gen into it so much, from the possible lore or original material, the music, the character takes and analysis from twitter users. He's probably one of them

It's so funny actually because you can pretty much guess what mood he's in by the type of thing he recommends watching. A sad movie? He's in his feels and probably lowkey needs a good cry. A fun anime? He wants to have fun and not pay too much attention, probably just relax.

A horror movie? He either wants to try and scare you and then act like the knight in shining armor (he's actually shitting himself too, trust)

"Shit! They just did a jumpscare, I didn't expect one two seconds later!" a couple of popcorns jumping out of the bowl.

"Oh no did that ugly nun scare my princess?" he wraps your shoulders with his arm, voice comically condescending, "Does she want a kiss to make it better?"

"Don't even try it, Sung. I saw you jump too, loser"

A thriller or dramatic movie? Probably feels the need to overthink something other than his life, and most likely have a nice, interesting conversation.

He's also quite strict with seeing new episodes from a series he hasn't seen before. He doesn't like to watch stuff in your presence unless you are also watching them. He much prefers your company anyway, feels also a bit disrespectful and in general he probably wants to focus on the plot.

He's usually pretty silent and concentrated but if it's a rewatch or he's purposefully showing you something he just yaps. So much. He NEEDS you to feel things as he felt them, you know?

"Baby, there! Did you see that shot? It's so fucking genius actually, will be so important for the plot later on"

"Don't spoil!" you exclaim, annoyed.

"Yah, I didn't spoil, I just commented on how good the shot was!" he defended, as you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Shush."

But it's actually stronger than him, I fear.

"The composer using that bit of music during that scene..I know what they're doing"

"How can you hate someone so much but also enjoy their presence at the same time? Such good acting"

But don't get me wrong! He loves to hear you yap just as much. He's actually so in awe, looking at you with those big round eyes and an amused smile.

"Am I talking too much? Ah, sorry baby" you chuckle embarrassed as you catch yourself basically covering the audio of the movie.

He shakes his head with a smile, still with those adoring eyes. Like you could do no wrong, ever.

"No, my baby. You could be literally reading a cooking book, I don't care. You look too pretty."

But when you've both seen the movie/series in question and it's NOT a sad one...it's over. You both know damn well it's just part of the game foreplay at that point.

"Honey, how about we just chill and rewatch this? It was fun last time"

And just like last time, this time was indeed fun, since the movie was left on his own to the end credits as you were blowing each other's backs out.

It's a given at that point, I don't make the rules

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[moonselune]

if this is too far out there i totally understand you turning down the request but o_o could you maybe do the ladies post-game with a bhaal rejecting durge who found a way to spare and now took in orin to help her rehabilitate (so now they and durge live together as a couple and orin is kind of a roommate). Would there be tensions? Do some just outright make an ultimatum?

Okay okay so gonna do this as more headcanony and see where it goes

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

She would be so wary

Probably thinks you are just got hit a bit too hard in the head during battle

"How many Mama K's do you see babe?"

You manage to convince her that if you are going to Avernus to kill Zariel, we might as well bring the incest murder baby with us

Orin's just stood there like "please I'm so good at it."

Karlach groans and relents, kicking the dirt and murmuring something about cannon fodder

Orin is elated and swears on her favourite dagger that she will not kill anyone she is not allowed to

I can see your relationship with her getting better through this because she can prove herself doing the one thing she does best

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

no

just no

this would be an ultimatum

at the end of the day you are choosing Minthara and offering up Orin to her as an apology for even thinking it

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Also cannot imagine Lae'zel allowing Orin near you

maybe if you join her to lead the coup against Vlaakith, for similar reasons as Karlach

But if she is staying in Baldurs Gate with lil Gith egg baby Xan

absolutely no way

would also ask if you got hit too hard in the head during battle

Lae'zel would not be able to trust Orin and would just have to kill her whether you liked it or not

she could not live knowing Orin is lurking somewhere, good intentions or not.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Surprisingly I feel like shadowheart would be the most accommodating

like orin can stay on your farm

maybe in an old barn or something

but she can stay

any animals get hurt though and Orin is out

Unless they are predators to Shadowheart's animals

then Orin is like a guard dog

"Yeah you can get those ones"

Orin would probably rehabilitate the best out here and would have the best chance of fixing herself and your relationship with her

we've made her touch some grass <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

She's way too old for this shit

She would be so torn up because she has had so much experience with Bhaalspawns

A part of her thinks she should help, because if she hadn't helped you then you two would never have fallen in love

but I think Orin's eccentricity would put her off and she can't risk losing the people she has fought so dear to protect

and a part of her doesn't want to have to fight anymore

she wants to join being with her family, being with you

not having to look over her shoulder just in case her sister-in law got in a mood and now there's one less place at the dinner table

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

These are a bit short, but I like these requests because it really makes me think how they would react and what they would want not only for yourself but for you

Anyways hope y'all enjoyed it even if this was a bit more rambley - Seluney xox