#and as u can see . this turned out to be a lot longer than planned

[itsjaywalkers]

i will take the sun in my mouth

jegulus | explicit | 33k | for my beloved @imdamagecontrol <3

Regulus is nothing if not a liar. And a really damn good one at that. Or he tries to be, at least. You see, making mistake after mistake isn't as easy if you don't have a certain amount of delusion. How do you think he manages to stay on that stupid branch until it breaks each time? Of course, it doesn't really work with Sirius, because his brother has always been able to see right through him. And as luck would have it, James Potter also appears to be somewhat of an exception.

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 FIRST LIGHT

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai severely overestimated his self-control. it takes approximately six days and thirteen hours for him to break, seeking you out again. when he does, he knows that nothing will ever be the same. {wordcount: 14.5k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART TWOOOOOOO, we have one of my fav parallels in this one, i know you guys will catch it immediately but u still must tell me when you do. also, there's another hint about badlands!reader & dazai's relationship in this chapter that happened after the events of the last installment so u must let me know if you catch that too. reblogs are always appreciated! thank you guys & i hope you guys love this as much as i enjoyed writing it

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. + we have a bit more of unhinged thought processes on dazai's end. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings!

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

He understands now the temptation that Eve must have felt in the Garden of Eden with the forbidden fruit dangling right in front of her face. Traditional interpretation of the Bible places the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden on day six of creation; Dazai’s restraint has thus far rivaled that of the two Biblical figures. He’s on day six now, in fact; it’s been exactly six days, twelve hours and forty six minutes since he met you in the hallway of the club and each passing second has been more agonizing than the last. 

He isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to last. 

His office is dark and suffocating, the atmosphere so cold and unwelcoming that it has him craving the return to your warm and homely apartment so intensely that he thinks it might be making him sick. He turned off the light earlier when he felt a migraine coming on, hoping that the darkness would let his eyes and mind rest enough to catch it before it fully came on, but he’s realized that it probably wasn’t the light causing his headache, rather it was you.

He sighs as he tilts his head back, willing the migraine to go away even though he knows it's to no avail. But he can’t even rest his eyes in peace, because every time they slide shut, the image of you burns the inside of his eyelids—your soft gaze and bright smile, the way you held your hand out to take his and the way your lashes fluttered as you leaned into his touch. 

Six days, twelve hours and forty seven minutes. 

He thinks he would prefer the nightmares of his other lives to this. At least with those, they fuel his drive to press forward with his master plan, the reminder of your fates in the other worlds would scorch away any desire to seek you out in fear of bringing it upon you again in this one.

Now, every night for the past six days he’s been plagued with dreams of you—pleasant dreams. Dreams that when he wakes from them, he finds his cheeks wet and his chest heavy with such an intense longing for you that it makes him physically ill. He dreams of having you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you do your best to study even with him making every effort to distract you. He dreams of watching sunrises with you, seeing the way the early morning colors wash over your face, your skin glowing and eyes glittering in such a vivid way that Dazai swears he can even picture it now. He dreams of a ring, and he dreams of his palms sweating as he walks with you down to the beach you met on to watch another sunrise, and he dreams of getting down on one knee in front of you just as the sun breaks over the horizon. He never dreams of a wedding, so Dazai theorizes that you never made it long enough for one to take place. 

And the realization of that alone should be enough to make the yearning for you evaporate but it’s not, because dangerous thoughts have been circulating through his head since the night he left you. Thoughts of how maybe this could be different. Dazai is the boss of the Port Mafia in this life, he has enough resources to protect you—more money than god and enough armed forces behind him to rival the nation’s government. He has the power to keep you safe in this life, more than he ever had in any other. 

If there was any life that he could be with you and ensure your safety, it’s this one. 

Six days, twelve hours and forty nine minutes.

Does he really want to give this up?

Dazai rests his arms on his desk, lowering his head down, eyes sliding shut again. He can see you again, the image of you from last week, laughing wildly at something he’d said—he can’t even remember what it was, he was so nervous that he can’t even recall half of the night, but he doesn’t really care at all what he said anyway, too enraptured by the way you react to it. 

He wonders if you’re there now. At the bar. Because what he does remember, of course, is your teasing grin as you tell him that of course, you’re scheming out a second meeting between the two of you because naturally you’ve decided that you already like him. And he remembers the hope thinly veiled behind your eyes, as you look over him, knowing that if the two of you are to meet again, it would be reliant on whether or not he decides to come back to the club, because you’ve already made your intentions clear.

Six days, twelve hours and fifty minutes.

Dazai’s throat feels swollen, his nails dig into his palms. He imagines you waiting there, he imagines the disappointment on your face as you slowly realize he’s not going to show up. And you’re so damn beautiful, radiant even beneath the shitty lighting of the club—he’s sure you saved a seat at the bar for him, and you’ve probably had dozens of interested men who’ve offered to buy you drinks, asking if you’d come to the club alone. And you’ll probably turn them down at first, telling them that you’re waiting on someone, but he wonders how long it’ll take for you to finally take one of them up on their offer after you’ve realized that Dazai isn’t going to show. He wonders if you’ll follow them out to the dance floor, he wonders if you’ll give them the same teasing smile you gave him. He can picture slim fingers caressing your hips, pulling you closer. He can picture your lashes fluttering as they lean their head down to ghost their lips against your neck, swaying to the music. He doesn’t want to picture anything else, but his mind, as always, betrays him. 

He wonders if you’ll take them back to your apartment—would you get right into it or would you sit and talk with them for a while? His head spins as his thoughts take an increasingly more dangerous spiral. It’s a bitter cold night out, maybe you’ll take the opportunity to make them the hot chocolate you’ve made him hundreds of times, thousands of times before—no, he corrects as the lines start to blur in a treacherous way, you’ve never made it for him in this life. Maybe it’s so cold out that you’d forgo small talk altogether, instead seeking out the warmth of someone else’s body—you’d take them by the hand, lead them into your bedroom and lay them back on your bed. 

Would you be gentle with them? Like you were with him? No, he reminds himself again, you’ve never been with him like that, not in this life. The pages of the Book pile around him, memories flooding him with an intensity that he’s never experienced before; he can hardly even remember what his reality is, all of the others blending and shifting together in his mind, making it impossible to decipher the lines between them. 

You’re dragging him to the beach to watch your first sunrise with him and you’re telling him that you want to see as many as possible with him—he wants to tell you that he thinks he might love you but he doesn’t know how to say it  You’re laying him back against a bed, asking him if he trusts you—of course, he does, how is that even a question? You’re leaning your head against his arm, standing before a familiar grave and accepting him for all that he is even after he strips bare down to all of the worst parts of himself for you—you shouldn’t, he wants to say desperately, but instead he’s telling you that he loves you, even though he knows it might kill you. And then-

And then he’s ripped violently from his fall into the pages of the Book as his phone vibrates and it’s not him anymore, it’s someone else, someone unworthy and undeserving, a stranger that you’d turned to because Dazai wasn’t there.

Dazai nearly heaves. He never should have indulged in you that night. He should have known he was never going to go back to normal after it. The difference between the memories and actually having seen you and heard you and touched you and smelt you was so much more severe than he ever could have expected. Now, the memories aren’t enough; he wants a life with you, he wants it to be his reality. He thinks that it’s not fair that he’s the only one who can’t be with you. He wants to make new memories with you so he no longer has to struggle with the blurred lines, so he doesn’t have to yearn for a life that he’ll never be able to experience, having to watch every single other Dazai get to have what he can’t.

Six days, twelve hours and fifty eight minutes.

He can do it, his thoughts are a bit manic as he tries to ground himself after the spiral. He has the knowledge. He has the power. He has the resources. If there’s any life that he’s able to be with you and keep you safe, it’s this one. He doesn’t have to hide from you, he doesn’t have to deny himself of you to protect you—he has the knowledge, he has the power, he has the resources. He can keep you safe. Instead of being the only Dazai who never gets to be with you, he’ll be the only Dazai who can actually spend his life with you—a long one, a happy one. He’ll have what none of them did. He can do it.  

Before he can stop himself, he speaks.

“Gin-chan,” Dazai calls softly, knowing that he doesn’t have to speak any louder for the girl to hear him. As soon as he hears the door to the backroom open, he continues with, “Have Albatross be ready downstairs with one of the cars.” 

“Of course. Where to, sir?” 

To Gin’s credit, she doesn’t sound at all caught off guard by Dazai’s sudden request, as if it’s normal for Dazai to randomly decide to leave the Port Mafia base even though he can count on one hand the number of times he’s left the base since he ascended to the position of boss four years earlier. 

“... The club we own in Naka,” Dazai says after a few moments, fingers thrumming against the mahogany of his desk for a moment before he adds, “... Don’t tell Chuuya.”

“... Yes, sir. I’ll have Albatross get everything ready immediately.”

At exactly six days and thirteen hours, Dazai’s self-control shatters. 

You sigh. 

The seat next to you remains damningly empty despite the many attempts of handsome strangers trying to join you at the bar. You’re sure you must’ve turned down half a dozen by now in hopes that the stranger from last Friday will end up showing up but those hopes are very quickly disappearing. You want to convince yourself that maybe you’ve just missed him—it’s a rather large club, after all—but it’s not half as packed as it was last week; you think that if he were here, you would’ve spotted him by now. Or he would have spotted you.  

Dazai Osamu, you remember his name, eyes sliding shut briefly as you take a sip of your water, wondering if you should just switch to alcohol and drink your sorrows away, seek out one of the men who’d approached you already so you don’t end up spending the night alone. The thought leaves you unsatisfied, a pout rising to your lips around the rim of your glass as you finish off yet another glass of water. 

You swear that you’re not usually this pathetic—especially not over a man—but there’s just something about this Dazai Osamu that has you acting up. Like honestly, who even are you? Going to the club alone on a Friday night with nothing but some faint hopes that the man you’d met here last week would show up too? It’s so embarrassing, you think you might die—but somehow you’re not embarrassed enough to leave because you’re still hoping that he shows up. 

God, you think again, who are you anymore? You barely even know this man. You know his name and you know he’s handsome. And that’s just about it, but here you are, sitting bummed at a club because he isn’t showing even though he has absolutely no reason to. 

The bartender raises his eyebrows with a small smile and you pass the glass over to him, letting him refill it. He’s the same one from last week and he recognized you as soon as you took a seat at the bar, making sure to get you what you need and keep you company whenever there’s a lull in patrons flagging him down. It’s a stark contrast from the treatment that you got early in the night last week, where it had taken you twenty minutes to get a single drink and even then you could barely hold his attention long enough to tell him what you wanted. You can’t help but notice that he seems hyperaware of the open seat next to you.

As the bartender passes you another glass of water, you flash him a wavering smile, unconsciously sparing another awkward glance to the empty seat next to you. While the club isn’t quite as packed as it was last week, it’s not exactly empty and you’re starting to feel bad hoarding the seat when plenty of others probably want to sit down too. 

“I’m sure he’ll show,” the bartender tells you before he’s waved down by another patron. You wonder if he’s guessed who you’re waiting for or if it’s just meant to be some general comfort. “Probably just running late, he’s a busy man.”

Oh, you think, eyes widening, but before you can question him as to what he means, he’s rushing to go refill the drink of a blonde man on the opposite end of the bar.

A busy man. 

Who are you, Dazai Osamu? 

Even in your drunken state, you knew from the moment you met him that there was something off about him. The way he held himself, the way he looked at you, the way people treated him—it all screamed danger. Once you’d sobered up, you remembered all of the things you didn’t notice while you’d been intoxicated. You remembered the way people would rush to get out of his way or show him complete deference, eyes a bit wide and faces a bit pale. You remembered the way Takeda looked sick and scared when Dazai told him to go, and Takeda is usually a bull-headed and fearless man, it takes a lot to make him back down. You remembered his driver—he had a driver!—and how when he stepped out of the car to open the door for the two of you, you swore you caught a glint of gunmetal holstered at his waist before Dazai gave him a cold look and he quickly covered it up.

And you’re not usually a girl who seeks danger out, for as much as you went on your spiel about living life on the edge the last time you spoke to him, you’re usually a pretty careful person. If you were smart, you would have woken up the next morning and pretended that you were too drunk to remember the night before, forget all about Dazai Osamu and his dangerous smile and intense gaze. 

But you aren’t smart, evidently, because instead of forgetting about him, you spent half of the next day mourning because he didn’t even leave you his number and the other half of it scheming out the best way of running into him again. 

You sigh, resting your cheek on your hand as you prop your elbow up on the bartop, idly tracing the rim of your glass.

What is it about you, Dazai?

One meeting and you’re captivated. He must be some kind of witch, or siren, there’s no other explanation for how you’re so utterly enchanted by him. He spoke your name with the familiarity of a lover, watching you with gentle eyes even though they become cold and empty whenever they avert to someone other than you. And you—you felt as if you’ve known him your entire life. You’ve never had such an instant connection with someone like that before, you’re convinced that it’s fate at work, even if he’s adamant against the thought.

You want to see him again. You wonder if it was maybe just your drunken brain misconstruing things, although somehow you doubt it. You need to talk to him again to know if the connection is real, and if it’s real-

“Is this seat taken?”

At first, the voice doesn’t register as familiar, so you let out a soft puff of air, trying to figure out if you should deny another person. But as you turn to face the newcomer, your eyes widen a bit as you catch sight of the long, burgundy scarf hanging in your peripheral, stark against a long, sleek black suit jacket.

Your lips part in shock, head snapping to the side so you can fully look at the person to your left. Dazai Osamu stands there, hands resting comfortably in the pockets of his jacket, head tilted to the side, a small smile curving at his lips and a soft look in his eye as he looks down at you, comforting and warm compared to the cold emptiness you vaguely noticed from him at certain points last night.

You try to say no, it’s not taken, but no words leave your lips, so instead, you shake your head, eyes following Dazai as he takes a seat next to you at the bar. The bartender rushes over, all but abandoning the couple he’d been helping on the opposite side of the bar, pouring Dazai an expensive glass of whiskey and giving him a nod before going back to who he’d been helping before. Your eyes follow the man curiously before you turn your gaze back to Dazai, not speaking for a moment as you observe the way he stares down at the glass of whiskey for a second, the warmth in his eye slowly dissipating.

You don’t like it, and not because it makes you uncomfortable or anything, but rather because you just don’t like how alone he seems. So, you lean forward, smiling, and say, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Dazai turns his gaze back to you and the warmth returns, pools of honey rather than the endless void. You melt beneath it. 

“I vaguely remember a beautiful woman mentioning scheming out a second meeting,” Dazai drawls, dark eye lidded as he looks down at you, a half-smile decorating his face. “It would be quite remiss of me to be the cause of her failure.”

Your cheeks feel a bit a hot as you grin down at your drink. “While we’re on the topic of things I may or may not have said last week, I have to be honest with you. I totally lied about something,” you say with a laugh, leaning on the bar. He raises his eyebrow curiously. You give him a sheepish smile as you continue with, “I have absolutely no idea how to charm someone, drunk or sober, I was entirely speaking out of my ass, so keep your expectations low.”

The smile that curls to the corner of his lips is soft enough to make your heart skip a beat. “I think you just being yourself is plenty charming,” he murmurs.

You let out a noise caught between a groan and a whimper, face going hot. “Oh my god, you’re the charmer,” you accuse loudly, burying your face in your arms. “I’ll never survive. Handsome and charming, a deadly combination.”

As you peer your eyes open to look at him, you can’t help but notice the way his smile briefly falters at your words. You promptly decide to change the subject with: “Thank you for making sure I got home safely last week.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” he says, one pale, lithe finger tracing along the rim of his glass. Your eyes linger for a moment on the digit, mind wandering, before you force your gaze up; you can see the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his dark coat as your eyes drag his arm back to his face. There’s a knowing expression on his face, the smile on his lips a bit more sensual. Your breath catches as you avert your gaze, feeling quite like you’ve just been caught doing something bad.

“Sure I do,” you try to make the words sound casual and easy but despite your most sincere attempts, your voice is strained. “Not many people would go out of their way like that for someone they just met.”

Something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. You’re not sure what he finds amusing, but you decide you don’t care because you very much prefer it to the distant look that had been painted in them before.

“An unfortunate world we live in, then,” he says softly, but there’s a lilt to his tone that makes you feel like he knows something that you don’t. He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it though as he asks, “Are you going to have anything to drink?”

You startle slightly at the question, glancing down at the glass of water you’re drinking before you tell him with a laugh, “I don’t know if I want to force you to deal with me drunk twice. Didn’t I promise I’d stay sober this time?”

“If I remember correctly, you only said ‘not quite as drunk,’” he says, lips tilting up a bit and god, the way he’s looking at you has you flustered, gaze lidded and intense, as if you’re the only one in the room and not in a club with hundreds of other people. “Let me order you something, I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, that’s bold,” you warn, tossing him a teasing smile. “I'm very particular about my drinks, I’ll have you know. I’m almost curious what you have in mind that makes you so confident.”

“I have a good feeling about it,” Dazai says, tilting his head to the side as he waits for your decision.

You give a heavy sigh, pretending like it’s a difficult decision even though you know it’s not. “Fine, but only if you promise to cut me off after two. Whenever I hit three, I hit the floor.”

You extend your pinky toward him, waiting for him to take it, and when he does, you swear a jolt of electricity shoots up your arm. As he wraps his finger around yours, your heart skips a beat, your eyes meet his and you think you might get lost in the dark pools, you don’t think you would mind if you do and that scares you. You’ve never had someone make your heart flutter and mind haze like this, especially not so quickly.

“Promise,” he breathes out, barely audible above the thundering music and crowds. 

You dip your head down to press your lips against your thumb to seal the deal, and you think you fall even more when you don’t have to tell him to do the same, following your lead and kissing his own thumb to seal it. And you briefly wonder if this man might be your soulmate because he didn’t give you a single odd look and didn't hesitate for a second whereas when you’ve made pinky promises with some of your other friends and past partners, their expression always twists a bit in confusion or oddity at the second part.

Rather than letting go of your hand, he swaps to his other hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and resting it on your lap before he flags the bartender down—quite easily, might you add—and leans over the bartop to say something quietly to him. The man nods and rushes off, and you give Dazai a scandalized look as he turns his attention back to you, hyper aware of the warmth of his fingers against yours.

“You won’t even tell me what it is?” you gasp in mock offense. 

Dazai rests his other elbow on the bar top, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you through his lashes. You couldn’t drag your gaze away if you wanted to, tunneled onto him.

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a smile. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

“Quite confident for someone that hardly knows me, aren’t you, Dazai?” you giggle, raising your hand to cover your lips, and god, he looks so amused again, and so handsome. You might die. “That’ll be for me to judge.”

“Very confident,” he agrees, and you think he winks but you can’t tell because one of his eyes is covered by bandages. 

“So,” you begin, waiting for the drink. “You’re from around here then?”

You hope he is, at least, because you’d like to keep seeing him. Something about him is just so intoxicating, like a drug you just can’t get enough of. You think he must be, from the way he seems so familiar with the bartender and other patrons, but you could always be wrong.

You hope you’re not wrong.

“Mhm,” Dazai agrees, humming around the rim of his glass as he takes another sip. You hope the excitement you feel doesn’t flash across your face. “Yokohama born and raised… you?” 

Distantly, a part of you feels like the question is just an afterthought, as though he already knows the answer and you wonder if you’re that obvious, but you pay no mind to that, instead nodding. “Same,” you say, and then, “... I wonder if we have crossed paths before then. You’re so familiar, I can’t imagine that we’ve never met before… Maybe uni? Did you happen to go to UTokyo? I graduated there last year.”

Dazai seems to hesitate at the question, as if considering his answer. You wonder why, but he leaves you little time to figure it out because he finally replies, “No… I was in Tokyo for business for a while a couple years ago though.”

Your eyes light up. “Really?” you ask, leaning forward as you speak. “Where did you work? I know the area pretty well.”

He hesitates again, this time more blatantly, and you can see the confliction that briefly flashes across his face. How curious. 

“It wasn’t a particular storefront, or anything, just my line of work had me in the area for a while.”

You’re about to press into what his line of work is, desperate to know more about the man sitting in front of you, but you’re interrupted by the bartender returning with a martini so stunning that if it tastes half as good as it looks, you might fall in love. 

But you’re not going to make it that easy. 

“Go on,” Dazai says, leaning a bit back in his seat as he watches. He looks at you as if he already knows that you’re going to like it and you’re adamant on destroying his assumptions, you will hate this drink if it’s the last thing you do. “Tell me what you think.”

You lift the martini glass up to your lips carefully, the dark liquid so close to the brim that you’re nervous it will spill over the sides. He watches you expectantly, you pointedly hold his gaze as you take a sip of the drink and-

“Oh my god.”

Dazai looks utterly vindicated, raising his chin as you take a sip of the drink and stare at it in shock. It’s so… tasty. It’s creamy, and sweet, and you can hardly taste the alcohol but you can feel the tingle on your tongue and the light burn in your throat. All thoughts of the conversation you were having before the drink showed up disappear, and you’re focused solely on the glass in your hands and the man before you.

“So?” God, he’s evil. He almost purrs the word, as if he knows exactly what your response is going to be. He leans forward a bit, looking down at you through his lashes. “Give me the verdict, Your Honor.”

“It’s good,” you say, raising your chin in spite, hoping that your expression doesn’t betray but from the way his lips spread into a wider smile, you fear that you completely failed. 

“Just good?” Dazai croons. 

You pause for a second, debating on lying and telling him yes, just good, but the words you intend on speaking do not leave your lips. Rather, you say, “Okay. It may or may not be one of the best drinks I’ve had in a while. You have to tell me what it is so I know what to ask for.”

“Hmm.” Dazai lifts a finger to his chin, as if considering your words. “I don’t think I will.”

“What!”

His smile becomes a bit softer, his expression more teasing. “I think I’ll hold that information hostage, so you have to come out with me again if you want to drink it.”

A jittery feeling spreads through your chest, heart fluttering, cheeks hot. “Oh? Look who’s scheming out our third meeting already,” you taunt lightly. “How the tables turn.”

“Of course, I’m scheming out our third meeting, maybe our fourth and fifth too,” he mimics your words from last week shamelessly. “I’ve decided I already like you, bella.”

The pet name rolls off his tongue easily, as if it’s second nature to him, and your face is on fire but Dazai looks like he’s shocked even at himself. You fumble with your words for just a second, it takes you a moment too long to recover but you think that Dazai doesn’t even notice in his stunned state. 

You decide to return fire. 

“I hope all of our dates aren’t just going to be at clubs,” you tell him with a smile that edges on flirtatious, cocking your head to the left.

Your words hardly register until you notice that his cheeks have become bright and rosy, hand instinctively coming up to hide his face. He looks entirely like he’s at a loss for words, lips parting and closing several times. It’s so endearing that you think you might really die now, but then the gravity of your words hit you like a train.  

Oh god. A date? A date?? This is only the second time you’ve met, that was way too soon. You-

“I’ll make sure the next place we meet is somewhere special,” he finally says, voice smooth and gaze gentle and- 

And just like that, you’re a goner.

You’re not sure how long you sit there talking to him. Hours, probably. It feels like no time at all and forever all at once. You lose yourself in his gaze, and his smile, and you think the whole world could be burning around the two of you and you’d have no idea just because you’re so tunnel visioned on him. The music drowns out, and all you can hear is his voice. The people around you blur out of focus, and all you can see is him. 

It’s insane, you think. You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You’ve had so many flings and so many boyfriends over the years, but the way your stomach twists and turns and the way your head feels fuzzy with Dazai is so incomparable to how you felt with anyone else. 

You feel like you’ve known him forever. 

You feel like you’ve only just met him. 

How is it possible to feel like you know someone you’ve only just met so intimately? When you know you don’t actually know much about him personally but it still feels like you can read into the depths of his soul?

God, you don’t know, but you do know one thing, and it’s that you never want to lose this feeling. 

And that’s how it began. 

Every Friday for weeks, you find yourself at the club, sipping cheap martinis at the bar until a certain handsome man in a dark suit decides to finally grace you with his presence. Sometimes, the two of you would just sit at the club’s bar until the sun threatens to rise, when you finally go your separate ways and you make your way back to your apartment, falling asleep with a smile on your face and waking up with a giddy feeling still sparkling in your chest. Other times, he only comes by the club to pick you up, fulfilling his promise of making sure to take you somewhere nice when you find yourself fine dining at the fanciest rooftop restaurants in the city. 

He never stays over your place, even when he does drop you off. Sometimes he’ll hang around for an hour (you made him your favorite hot chocolate, he liked it so much that he nearly cried although he vehemently denied that was the reason why his eye got all misty), but he always leaves. You try not to let it bum you out, convincing yourself that it’s just because he doesn’t want to keep his driver waiting (albatross, you remember his name, he’s funny. you like him), but sometimes you can’t help the heavy feeling set over you when he makes his abrupt leave, wishing for just a bit more. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, for god’s sake. 

You also distantly note that you don’t really know much about him, even after all of these weeks his personal life remains a mystery to you. The closest you were able to get to prying anything out of him was when he showed up so late that you were on the verge of leaving because you doubted he would even show, he apologized and said a work meeting ran late. You asked him what about and he hesitated, as if he was about to say it, but then gave you some vague response and steered the conversation to something less personal.

That’s what’s happened every time you try to learn a bit more about him. You don’t really notice it in the moment because he’s smooth and charming about it, but he always manages to turn the conversation to you or some other general topic. You want to respect that he doesn’t want to talk about his personal life because maybe he’s coming to you to have some sort of escape from it, but you also want to know him beyond just the flirting over drinks and the slim things you can gleam from his reactions, words hidden between the lines of what he actually says.

Your friends think you’re crazy. They think he’s bad news. They’ve come with you to the club a few times to wait with you until he shows up and every time they see him you can see the weary looks that they shoot at one another. You don’t care what they think—or well, that’s a lie, you do care what they think, you’re just too enamored with Dazai for their words to have any weight. Which probably should be concerning, but that’s something for you to think about another day. 

Because now, you’re focused on him again. He’s been talking more tonight than he usually does—most nights, he’ll spend the majority of the time just listening to you, a soft smile on his face and a captivated look in his eye, but tonight, he’s been rather vocal, people watching with you and making sly advances that you think is just plain cruel considering he hasn’t even kissed you yet. 

But tonight, you’ve decided, will be the night. 

You’ve been trying to figure out how to go about it, if you should just invite him back to your apartment—something you’ve done before, so there shouldn’t be any nerves but you still find yourself wavering because you don’t know how you’re going to proceed once you get to your apartment. You are not a seducer. You have no experience in seducing. In fact, you are usually the one being seduced. So every time your lips part to ask if he wants to leave the club, you find yourself withering and faltering, waiting for a ‘better’ chance as if one will magically arise.

It does. 

It’s when a fight breaks out on the dancefloor a bit too close to where you’re sitting, certainly the result of some sleazy man trying to put his hands on a woman who already has a date, when you finally force yourself to stop pussying out. You let out a shriek as you stumble forward off your barstool when one of the men careens a bit too closely to you, and it’s only by Dazai’s swift reaction, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you to him and steadies you, that you don’t go toppling onto the floor. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the fight escalate, a bit entertained now that you’re safe in his arms from becoming collateral damage, but Dazai looks distinctly unimpressed by the scene taking place a few feet away, lips twisted into a deep frown. You watch as he shoots a sharp look to one of the bouncers lingering by the door, and you note how the man immediately moves forward to break up the fight. Interesting. You’ve noticed that the people at the work tend to be respectful to him, but that’s the first time you’ve seen them seemingly take a silent order from him.

You steel your nerves and you decide to try your hand.

“Would you… maybe want to get out of here?”

You look nervous, Dazai watches you carefully as he leads you across the club to the exits, so he figures that there’s something else going on in your head right now. You’ve been quiet most of the night, he realizes, and he wonders if something is wrong. If something happened. His mind immediately catapults to the worst case scenario: that someone found out about the two of you, despite how careful he’s been in making sure that the places he’s brought you to were locked down by the Port Mafia before you arrived with him, and you’re being threatened.

His thoughts race. Albatross should still be waiting where Dazai left him, so if something goes wrong, he’ll be ready. Dazai glances at you again, and he slowly realizes that you don’t seem nervous because you’re fearful of something, and his anxieties slowly are edged away. 

But that only gives rise to new anxieties because then what’s making you so nervous then? What did you mean by get out of here? Do you want to go somewhere else? (but where, the longer he’s out in the open, the more of a risk there will be without him taking precautions beforehand like he usually does) Do you want to be dropped off back at your apartment? (that’s what he initially assumed, but he doesn’t want the night to end yet) Do you want to invite him to your apartment? (it wouldn’t be the first time, but it doesn’t leave him any less nervous. he’s terrified of making the wrong move) Do you want him to invite you to his apartment? (god, he hopes not)

The last option cannot happen. You’re already suspicious from the way the bartender and the other club patrons have been treating him the past few weeks, and now you’re doubly suspicious, Dazai can tell from the way your eyes squint as the bouncers at the entrance of the club nod their heads to him. If he brings you back to his place, the tallest of the five towers making up the Port Mafia base, there’s no way you won’t put together that something’s up with him and the last thing he wants is to scare you away. Even if you don’t know what the buildings are exactly, you’ll definitely question him about his occupation, go back to the dangerous line of questioning you’ve been treading on lately, and when he can’t give you a straight answer, it’ll become all the more apparent that it’s something shady and if you’re smart, you’ll make an excuse to leave and then never seek him out again.

Realistically, he probably won’t be able to hide this from you for long, but it just has to be long enough for him to woo you so the news isn’t so jarring that it makes you cut off all contact with him. Although, Dazai isn’t sure if any amount of time will make the knowledge that he’s a mafia boss not jarring enough to flee. His heart feels a bit heavy, wondering if this is all a mistake because how the hell is he supposed to just accept it when you inevitably decide to leave? And isn’t that what he should want, anyway? He wants you to keep yourself safe, no matter what the cost, and if you’re the one to cut him off, then he won’t be tempted to come looking for you again. He can protect you from the distance as he initially planned with the memory of the nights he’s spent with you pushing him forward. So maybe this is for the best.

You accepted all of the other Dazais, the traitorous part of his mind tried to convince himself that isn’t a hopeless cause, even though he knows that there’s a stark difference between who he is in this lifetime, the face of Japan’s underworld, drenched in blood and rotting from the inside out, and who he was in all of the other lifetimes, desperately trying to make himself a better man so that Odasaku would be proud of him. 

Maybe you’ll understand, he thinks weakly as the two of you leave the club. It’s drizzling now, and his eyes cut across the parking lot looking for Albatross, but his thoughts are lost—you understanding would mean he would have to tell you everything. He can’t do that. Not just because you would probably think he’s delusional, or psychotic, but because it would put the very fabric of this reality at risk. He can’t tell more people than necessary and stage five… 

His plan. 

Dazai’s gaze shifts back over to you, the sudden remembrance of what he’s been planning since he came in contact with the Book so many years ago spreading like ice through him. He should take you by the hand and lead you to the car, the rain is going to start coming down harder any second now, but Dazai is frozen because in his manic state, when he’d decided he can protect you in this life, be with you in this life, he hadn’t even given any thought to what would become of his plan, and he’s been so consumed by thoughts of you the past few weeks that it’s hardly crossed his mind.

He has to force himself to move forward, ignoring the way his mind is reeling—if he decides to live, what does that mean for Odasaku? For Atsushi and Akutagawa and Chuuya? For the world? Would he be condemning everything he’s worked to protect? He still thinks he can do it—protect you, that is—but would it be at the cost of everything else? He feels sick, trying to figure out if he’s going to have to plot out a whole new plan, as if this one hadn’t taken him years to come up with and implement. 

But you don’t move to follow him to the car where Albatross is waiting when he steps forward. Instead, you tilt your head up to the sky, lashes fluttering as rain begins to drizzle down from the dark sky. 

And Dazai’s spiraling thoughts halt. 

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re always beautiful, but he thinks there’s something magical about the picture of the small smile on your lips as rain drops slide across the smooth skin of your face. He tries to force himself to look away so he doesn’t seem creepy staring at you, but he can’t bring himself to.

You don’t seem to mind though, because you turn your attention to him, eyes lit up in a way that makes his heart race. “Dance with me,” you say suddenly, holding a hand out to him, the soft smile on your face is a bit mischievous now.

Dazai looks down at you, raising his eyebrows. “Here?” he asks, voice tainted with a hint of incredulity. “Now?”

“Mhm,” you say, unperturbed, holding your hand out more insistently. 

Dazai thinks he isn’t capable of denying you much of anything, but he can’t help but hesitate. Not because he doesn’t want to dance with you—he would sell what’s left of his wretched soul for just a single dance with you—but because the longer he’s out in the open, the more of a chance there might be an assassination attempt on him. Every time he goes out, he’s gambling his life. It would put you in danger, and it’s not like he brought Chuuya along for if something goes wrong. Albatross is capable enough, but his ability is not combat centric. 

Being seen with you in general could put you in danger, doubts begin to sprinkle through his head again, his heart lodged in his throat as remembers that Fyodor Dostoevsky and Agatha Christie aren’t the only threats to your life. He’s been as careful as he could be but even with all of the precautions in the world, there are still risks. He’s made new enemies in this lifetime, hundreds of them over the years, and if any one of them caught wind of you and his apparent attraction to you…

“If you wanted to dance, shouldn’t we have done that inside?” Dazai drawls instead, trying to play it off. Inside, where it’s significantly safer. Inside, where Dazai knows that there’s less of a chance of unsavory eyes falling upon the two of you because the club is owned by the Port Mafia and everyone let in is screened. Inside, where Dazai can still convince himself that he has the power to keep you safe. You’re entirely unbothered by his question, so he continues before you can shoot him down, “Where it’s not raining, and where there’s actually music.” 

“Haven’t you seen all of the romance movies?” you complain, smile widening. “Dancing in the rain is romantic, Dazai. Who needs music anyway? C’mon, dance with me.”

And how is Dazai supposed to say no to you when you look at him like that? Eyes wide and imploring, smile gentle—you look at him in a way that Dazai’s only dreamed of, and he knows that he’s a goner. Well, he’s known since he first met you, but it’s being made abundantly more clear right now with the way his heart, which he usually has such keen control over, beats rapidly in his chest. His lips part because he still wants to try to deny you—for your sake, not his—but no words leave them.

You don’t wait for his response anyway, hand darting out to catch his so you can drag him out into the parking lot. His eyes widen, stumbling forward and trying to catch his balance—you only laugh, intertwining your fingers with his while your other hand finds his waist, spinning the two of you in a reckless circle. 

“Keep up!” you tell him with a smile that causes his breath to catch. 

Dazai thinks he might die. His head feels fuzzy as you lead him in a wide ballroom dance, sweeping across the vacant parking lot with ease. He thinks he must look like a fool being dragged along in your dance like a puppet, hardly able to keep himself from tripping over his own feet. 

He’s not sure how you’re able to keep yourself so graceful, heels splashing in puddles as you lead him through spins and turns and pivots, but Dazai thinks you’re beautiful. Again. Extraordinarily so, even. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, the drizzle quickly becoming torrential, and your hair is wet and matted to your face, mascara a bit smeared underneath your eyes, but you’re laughing, and Dazai thinks you’re divine. Heavenly. Too ethereal to be tainted by the likes of him and yet here he is, the putrid skin of his fingers intertwined with your untarnished ones. You raise your arm and his, beckoning for him to twirl beneath it.

He does, and it’s awkward and clumsy because he’s too tall to comfortably perform the move, but you giggle loudly so it makes up for the embarrassment. And for a moment, Dazai can almost convince himself that this isn’t a life where he’s been forced to let the dark consume him for the betterment of the world; rather, it’s a world where he’s gone unsullied by the dark, his blood still runs red and you’re beautiful and you’re alive, and he’s just a boy who’s fallen so terribly in love with a girl so far out of his league that he thinks he might be dreaming when you return his interest. As he spins, he notices that his cheeks feel a bit strained and sore, and he realizes that there’s a smile on his face that matches your own, the muscles of his cheeks and jaw unused to stretching in such a manner and he hopes, anxiously, that it doesn’t look quite as unbearable as it feels.

If it does look unnatural, you don’t seem to mind. The rain blurs his vision and he’s forced to blink away the raindrops that keep falling into his eye, and for a split second, you’re standing before him in a pretty red dress on a sidewalk, and he’s the one leading you in the theatrical dance, dipping you down as lightning webs across the sky above the two of you, and he’s about to beg you for a kiss, he knows it but then-

He’s drawn out of his thoughts when you pull your hand back from his, but you don’t give him time to mourn the loss of your touch because then you’re slipping your arms around his neck, loose and casual. You’re pressed up close to him, chest brushing his and head tilted back so you can look up at him—a slower dance, swaying to the music of the wind and rain—and Dazai can hardly breathe. You’re so close. So close that he could kiss you if he wanted to. God, he wants to. He’s wanted to for weeks but every time he tries to gather the nerve to do it, he backs out.

“Where’d you go?” you ask softly, and he can barely hear you as thunder rumbles in the distance, brows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what you mean. You tap his temple twice gently, “Left me for a second there.” 

Oh, his throat feels a bit dry, realizing that you must’ve noticed when he started to slip back into the pages of the Book. Terrifying. Beautiful and terrifying, that’s what you are, if you can read him that well after meeting him once a week for a few weeks, he dreads to know how well you’d be able to read him once you start spending more and more time with him. But would it be so bad? To have someone that knows him so profoundly? He’s so alone all the damn time in this world, and you’re giving him a taste of a life where maybe he wouldn’t have to be. It’s terrifying. Tempting. He forces another smile onto his lips, and this time your eyes narrow, as if you know this one isn’t as genuine as the last. 

“How rude of me,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He’s so close, he realizes again, hyper aware of the way his lips are almost brushing yours. He could kiss you if he wanted, he repeats, and he wants so badly but he doesn’t want to scare you away. “To leave behind such fine company.”

You don’t look content with his apparent attempt at avoiding the subject, and Dazai’s throat feels tight because it’s not really a conversation to have with you here. Now. Ever, really. 

For once, mother nature appears to be on his side, because before you can press on the subject, lightning strikes dangerously close to where the two of you are standing, making you jump, eyes wide. He takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, guiding you over to where he left Albatross earlier in the night. 

The car is already running, Albatross is leaning back in the seat scrolling on the phone and Dazai nearly commits an atrocity when he sees that the man has his gun laying haphazardly on the dashboard. As if Albatross can feel Dazai’s murderous intent, he looks up from his phone and his eyes shoot open when he sees you with Dazai and he scrambles to holster his gun back at his waist. 

Luckily, you don’t notice. Or maybe unluckily, because your attention is still fixated on him and Dazai is not ready to have that discussion with you because how the hell is he supposed to say “Sorry! Lost in some worlds that don’t exist, and just so you know, we almost got married in some of them! And just so you know, I got you killed in all of them!”

Yeah. That would go over well. 

Instead, he opens the door to the car for you, letting you hop in the backseat. He follows after. Albatross slides his glasses to the bridge of his nose, an unscrupulous smile on his face that instantly has Dazai suspicious. He hopes the man knows that no friendship with Chuuya will save him if he decides to purposely embarrass Dazai in front of you. 

“You’re back!” You recognize Albatross immediately, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of him. Dazai is almost jealous until he remembers that you’re still holding his hand. “You weren’t driving last time.”

Right. Because of the raid on one of the Scarlet Gang’s warehouses in Tokyo. A mission that Dazai definitely should have been more available for on the off chance that something went wrong, but he was far too busy indulging in you. In his defense, he had no doubts that the mission would go according to plan—the Scarlet Gang is dangerous, yes, and Kawabata is a force to be reckoned with, but he’s simply not Dazai.  

“D’aw, didn’t think you’d recognize me, doll,” Albatross grins, tossing you a wink. “Good to see you again too. You’re significantly more sober tonight, aren’t you?”

Dazai’s eyes narrow a bit at the pet name, but he’s more focused on the way you throw your face into your hands with a groan, reminded of just how drunk you’d been the last time Albatross was playing chauffeur. You’re a messy drunk, he remembers fondly, he doesn’t remember ever seeing you drink in any of his other lives with you, and he feels a bit giddy at the thought that he gets to experience a side of you that the others never did. Even if he was spending half of the night holding your hair back while you threw your guts up, spluttering apologies through sobs and heaves. He would do it again. Without even the slightest hesitation, he would do it again. 

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” you ask, peeking one eye between your fingers to look at Dazai for confirmation. 

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to assure you that no, you weren’t that bad, because Albatross is speaking again. Of course. 

“You were pretty damn bad, doll,” he grins, and you groan even louder, leaning your body over to rest your head on Dazai’s bicep. Dazai’s heart nearly leaps out of his throat. “S’alright though, boss took care of you.” 

“Did he?” you ask with a teasing smile, eyes glittering as you look up at Dazai, who suddenly feels a bit embarrassed, but Albatross rescues him. 

Maybe he does deserve the vacation he’s been bitching about wanting. 

“Where to?” Albatross asks, putting the car in gear, gaze flickering between you and Dazai briefly. 

Dazai is about to tell him your apartment when he catches the sudden apprehension on your face. He hesitates and waits for you to say whatever you want to say, but you don’t, instead you let out a puff of air and let your eyes slide shut. 

“Where do you want to go?” Dazai asks you.

You still look uncertain, but then you finally say, “I was meaning to stop and get some groceries at the convenience store on the way home. There’s one a few blocks away from my apartment. I can just walk over there if you drop me off at my place though, it’s fine.”

As if. The idea of you walking anywhere so late at night makes his skin crawl, especially considering there’s been a rise of violent crimes in the city that the Mafia has yet to get a handle on. He needs to push for that to be taken care of if he has to worry about you leaving your apartment to wander around so late. He makes a note to himself to bring it up to Chuuya later. 

“We can stop there on the way there. It’s no trouble.”

Albatross gives him a look, as if he’s asking if the boss of the Port Mafia is really about to go grocery shopping with a civilian in the middle of the night, forcing the Mafia’s best getaway driver to be their chauffeur. Dazai only gives him a cold, sharp look in return—if you need groceries, then they’ll stop for groceries. Simple as that. In a life where Dazai thought he’d never even be able to look at you, the chance of doing mundane chores like grocery shopping with you is not something he’ll just pass by. 

He can pretend to be normal. If only for a little longer. 

Until he has to go back to the base, and his lungs are clogged with corrupted air, being slowly suffocated by his surroundings.

Until you figure out who he is, and he’s alone again, being consumed by the void in his chest once more. 

He hardly considers the fact that he’s going somewhere with you where his subordinates haven’t made extensive efforts to ensure that no one suspicious is around to see the two of you. 

“Alrighty,” Albatross agrees, backing down as soon as he sees the expression on Dazai’s face. “To the convenience store.”

Your eyes brighten, a smile lights up your face. “Thanks,” you say relieved, and Dazai wants to say that you don’t ever have to thank him for everything and that he’d give you the entire world if given the chance, but he thinks that might be a bit weird so instead he settles on just giving you a small smile. “I’ll make you the best hot chocolate of your life when we get to my apartment. Just wait.” 

Dazai’s chest feels warm. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Wait here,” you tell both Dazai and Albatross as Albatross pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and stops the car outside of your building. Dazai, who’d been about to follow you, pauses from where he’s ducking beneath the doorframe to step out of the car, looking at you and waiting for an explanation. “... My apartment is a mess… I, um, wasn’t expecting company. Let me just… tidy up before you come in. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Dazai’s visible eye crinkles up in amusement as he sits back down in the backseat of the car and you immediately take off up toward the steps leading up to the second floor of your apartment, giddy and excited, grocery bag swinging and bumping against your hip as you make your way quickly up the steps. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You feel like a schoolgirl dealing with her first real crush, flustered and giggly, hardly able to hold a conversation without stuttering over your words. 

He’s just so… you don’t know how to describe it. Intense. But intense isn’t even the right word, because he’s not so intense that it makes you uncomfortable or overwhelmed, and that’s usually what you think of when someone is intense. Or maybe overwhelmed is a bit fitting, because you swear every time he sets his soft gaze down on you, your heart might leap out of your chest. Intense. Familiar, you don’t know how it’s possible to feel like you’ve known someone you’ve only met a few times your entire life.

Your fingers fumble as you try to unlock your door. One, two, three, it takes three attempts for you to finally slide the key into the lock, pushing open your door and stepping inside, free from the torrential rain and wild wind outside.

You sigh and rest your back against the door as you shut it behind you, eyes sliding shut. 

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

Someone important. 

Of course, you noticed how he was treated by the workers of the club—the bartender, the bouncers, even just the regular patrons. The restaurants he’s brought you to the past few weeks, they all treated him the same way. There were plenty of men there that were dressed in expensive clothes and held themselves highly, but none were treated the same way Dazai was.

Someone dangerous. 

You’d also caught a glimpse of the gun on the dash of Albatross’s car. (His driver, another point to note because who has a driver except very important people) Only three types of people have guns in Japan—military, police, and criminals, and you’re pretty sure he’s not part of the military or police force…

Someone you probably shouldn’t be so drawn to.

That should be enough to make you run. It really should be. You have no explanation or excuse for why you’re not besides the fact that you might not be as smart as you herald yourself to be. You shouldn’t feel giddy when he smiles softly at you, you should be nervous. You shouldn’t be longing for his touch, you should be avoiding it. Instead, you’re leaning against your door, smiling like an idiot after making him wait for you to clean up your apartment so you don’t embarrass yourself. 

Oh, you’re such a fool. But how could you not be with how he treats you? Tucking hair behind your ear, setting a gaze so soft on you that you think it might make your heart stop, dancing with you in the rain clumsily with rosy cheeks and wide eyes. How is it possible for you to reconcile the way the man acts with you to the way others treat him? Or maybe that’s just delusion speaking. It could be, honestly. You think if your brother was living with you, he’d be horrified, might lock you away for the rest of your life; you think your friends already want to put you in a psych ward and they’d only become all the more insistent if they knew half of the things you’ve noticed. 

But your brother left you and your friends don’t know, so nothing is stopping you from making what might be a terrible decision. 

You let out a breath as you push yourself off the door, placing down your grocery bags on the table by your door so you can scramble to pick up all of the stray clothes you’d tossed around your apartment as you frantically tried to find an outfit earlier in the night. You reach over to turn on your light, flicking the switch once, then twice, and then three times.

No way.

You sigh deeply, head falling back against the wood door of your apartment, knocking the back of your head against it twice in frustration. Letting out a irate puff of air, you push yourself off of the door and force yourself to get to work. It’s not the end of the world, hopefully it'll come back soon, the providers are usually quick with getting the outages fixed, even in your shitty area. 

You force yourself to move forward, frowning deeply as you scoop up all of the paperwork spread out on your coffee table, making sure to keep it all in order as you move them over to the desk you have by your window seat. You drop the pile down and cast your gaze out to all of the clothes strewn haphazardly around your apartment, cursing yourself for having been so messy earlier when you were trying on just about every outfit you own and then flinging them around frustrated when you decided they weren’t good enough.

You scowl as you bend down to pick them all up, deciding you’ll just stuff them messily in your closet and fold them later when you don’t have company. As you zoom around trying to snag all of the dresses and different pairs of bras and underwear scattered about, your mind races. Your stove should still work because your landlord refuses to install any modern appliances into your apartment, for better or for worse, so you have an old model that shouldn’t be affected by the outage. But you think it’ll be awkward sitting in the dark, you think you have a few candles stored away in your room—you’ll have to find them and set them up. 

Candlelit evening, how romantic! you think to yourself, a bit dreamily. You wonder if Albatross will be coming up to join the two of you in your apartment, you’d offered to make him a drink too but you figure it’ll be Dazai’s decision if he’ll be waiting outside or…

Or maybe, he’ll send him home. 

You get giddy at the thought—candlelights, slightly tipsy after a night out, you take a peek under your dress to try to figure out which underwear you’d decided on earlier and if you should change into a different pair but are delighted when you realize that you’d gone with your pretty red ones. 

You think he’ll like them. 

Hopefully. 

You like them, they’re your favorites.

Oh, you have to clean your bedroom too, you think to yourself in partial agony because you don’t know how the hell you’re going to clean up everything in there without making Dazai wait out there for an hour. You get anxious at the thought, worrying that if you take too long, he might leave, so you pick up the pace. You snatch the last stray bra hanging on the arm of your couch before taking off into your bedroom.

You hardly get a step into the room before you’re freezing in your tracks.

No way.

You stare at your bed, arms falling loose to your side, lips parted in shock. The clothes you’d cleaned up all drop aimlessly to the floor around you. Your bed is drenched with water—your sheets soaked, your mattress soaked, the ceiling heavy with rainwater from a leak you didn’t know you had.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out to yourself, unsure of what exactly you should do, never having had a problem like this before.

You think this is what you get, seeking out the cheapest possible apartment complex to stay in because you’re trying to save all of the money you have for school. Now, your mattress is ruined, your ceiling looks like it’s on the verge of collapse and oh my god, you left your laptop on your bed. 

A noise caught between a whimper and cry of frustration leaves your lips as you dive forward, fishing your laptop out of the massive pool of water flooding your bed. You hold it in front of your face between two fingers, watching as water drips from it down to the ground. 

There goes your laptop too.

You think you might be sick. 

Now, you have to deal with a landlord who is decidedly not helpful when it comes to issues in the complex and you have nowhere to sleep. Maybe you can call one of your friends to stay at their place, but it’s already the middle of the night and you know two of them have their own entrance exams tomorrow for the programs that they’re applying to.

Unless…

Your gaze shifts to the window in your room, looking between the blinds to see Dazai and Albatross still waiting outside in their car. 

Okay. Most urgent problem temporarily fixed. Maybe.

Dazai has a place. He has to. He’s clearly rich. It’s probably a much nicer place than yours too. You can go there, at least for the night. He wouldn’t just leave you with nowhere to go… right? No, of course he wouldn’t. You need to pack then, instead of cleaning. 

Okay, this is fine. 

It’s fine. 

It takes you about five minutes to grab a few spare pairs of clothes into the duffle bag laying at your bedroom door, occasionally tossing dirty looks at the leak ruining your bed. When you finish throwing your clothes in the duffle—unfolded and hastily, of course, they’ll be terribly wrinkled—you rise to your feet and swing the bag over your shoulder, making your way back to your door and grabbing your groceries. 

You don’t know what to say to him when you get back to the car. You’re probably being a bit presumptuous. Okay, a lot presumptuous—Dazai has never invited you back to his place, you’ve invited him to yours—but you don’t really have another choice.

You exhale as you step back into the rain, locking your apartment and making your way back down the steps to the complex’s parking lot. You don’t let yourself hesitate as you dart across the parking lot toward the car, fearing that if you take a second to actually think about what you’re doing—inviting yourself into someone else’s home!—you’ll probably back out.

You open the car door. You slide back inside, taking a seat behind the passenger seat. You drop your duffle bag on the floor between your feet and place your groceries back down between you and Dazai. You can feel both Dazai and Albatross staring at you. You stare ahead.

“... My apartment is flooded,” you finally say after a few moments.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, brows furrowing as he watches you. You can hardly bring yourself to look at him, trying to peek at him from the corner of your eye as best as you can without being too obvious about it. He’s not responding. Albatross isn’t moving the car. You’re getting the urge to bolt, to run upstairs and drown yourself in the puddle of water on your bed. 

Finally, Albatross clears his throat. “Boss?”

Dazai still doesn’t respond. You think you might be doubly sick now, and embarrassed. An awful combination, really. You know that he knows what you came back here hoping for, and you realize that he might just send you back to your flooded apartment instead because he obviously did not sign up for taking in some random girl that he’s met a few Fridays for the night because she has nowhere else to go. 

You finally turn your face to look at Dazai head on and you can feel that your eyes are glassy, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You don’t know how pathetic you must look for Dazai’s expression to shift the way it does, his conflicted expression crumbling as he turns away from you. You don’t want to know how pathetic you must look, you’d only feel even more humiliated.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally says: “Drive.”

Albatross’s eyes shoot open, he physically turns to look at Dazai, “But-”

You don’t catch the look that Dazai gives Albatross, too busy basking in the relief of having somewhere to stay for the night, but whatever it is, it makes Albatross turn back to face the wheel without another word, turning the car back on and shifting it into gear before pulling out of the parking lot. 

As soon as you’re on the move, you turn your attention back down to your phone, trying to figure out if you should message your landlord now or in the morning, dreading the inevitable argument you’re going to have with him. You fiddle with the device, occasionally sparing looks at Dazai, but the man is lost in thought next to you, visible eye distant and conflicted.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything so the whole drive to Dazai’s apartment is long and quiet. Even Albatross, who’s had no difficult sparking conversation the whole drive to your place, stays silent.

You’re bummed, all of the excitement you felt about bringing Dazai back to your place is long gone, feeling the stress of having to replace everything that’s been ruined by the leak and the anxiety of dealing with your landlord; all you want to do is sleep and die. Okay. That’s dramatic. But you’re exhausted and you really do want to sleep. Maybe not die, but definitely sleep. 

You lay your head against the window, eyes starting to droop shut, and you can feel Dazai glancing at you now but you can’t even bring yourself to look over at him. Instead, you keep your eyes trained outside the window, only perking up when Albatross finally starts slowing to a stop.

And then, you’re suddenly not tired at all. Your eyes widen as he pulls to the front of the tallest of the five black buildings that tower over the Naka ward, lips parting as you crane your head to look up out the window and then look pointedly back at Dazai, stunned.

Dazai refuses to meet your gaze, staring ahead. 

… You think that your instincts about this man must be spot on. 

Too bad you’re not listening to them.

“You’ve gone crazy.”

Dazai’s gaze draws up from the paperwork he’s definitely not doing, far too preoccupied with thoughts of you; it’s cold and cutting as it lands on Chuuya. His executive enters the room without any type of announcement, his voice just as cold as Dazai’s expression—he supposes it’s testimony to how angry he is, because Chuuya is only frigid in his anger when he’s really been pushed to the brink.

Naturally, Dazai only smiles, a slow and taunting one that he knows presses all of Chuuya’s buttons from the way the man’s bicolored eyes flash with fury. Chuuya storms over to Dazai’s desk, making his way until he’s standing right in front of him. 

“How so?” Dazai drawls, folding his hands over his lap as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head to the side questioningly. 

“How so?” Chuuya spits out, slamming his hands down on Dazai’s desk. Dazai raises his eyebrows and then lifts his chin, looking pointedly down to where Chuuya’s hands are splayed against his desk. Chuuya doesn’t flinch—of course he doesn’t, he’s Chuuya—but he does pull his hands back to himself, albeit snarling as he does it. “The hell are you bringing some random woman back to our base? Back to your room? Going out alone the past few weeks when you know you’ve got a bounty on your head higher than most world leaders? I was letting it slide but this is too far, why the hell is she here? You’ve gone crazy, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Careful, Chuuya,” Dazai warns, voice quiet, expression growing a bit flinty when he brings you up. Dazai doesn’t care if Chuuya wants to rail on him for being reckless, but he’s not allowed to drag you into it. He decides to not acknowledge the comment about you, focusing on the end of his tirade, “I was with one of the Flags, I wasn’t alone.”

“Albatross isn’t cut out for that type of combat and you know it,” Chuuya snaps, glaring at Dazai. “If one of those bounty hunters came after you, you both would’ve been killed. What’s gotten into you? Never took you for the type to be this reckless. You get a taste of a woman’s c-”

“I said careful, Chuuya. Know your place,” Dazai repeats, voice icy. The warning is gone, only a threat remains—Chuuya doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Dazai to know where he was going with it, the way the man’s eyes darted over to Dazai’s bedroom was more than enough to confirm it. 

“Is this a goddamn joke to you?” Chuuya asks, keeping his voice low, his lips flat and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t get it. You’ve always been so careful, more than anyone else. What the hell does one random woman have that’s making you risk all of this?” 

“I’m not risking anything,” Dazai tells him coolly, “and she’s not just some random woman.”

Chuuya’s expression shifts, brows furrowing deeper; Dazai can see the tiny cogs working behind his eyes as he thinks. He wonders if Chuuya has been drinking tonight, catching the pink hue to his cheeks and the hazy look coating his eyes. 

No wonder he’s so angry then, Dazai muses, he must have been out with Kouyou when he got word that Dazai left the base again without any protection detail and then brought someone up to his room who in Chuuya’s mind, could be an assassin for all he knows. 

Suddenly, the confusion clears and something closer to realization sweeps across Chuuya’s face. His gaze turns back pointedly in the direction of Dazai’s bedroom.

“That’s her,” Chuuya says, disbelief dripping from his tone. “The girl you’ve had Kouyou looking over for years. What the fuck, Dazai? I thought the whole point of having Kouyou look after her was so that you kept away from her.”

Dazai stares at Chuuya, only for a moment, because then his gaze drifts back to the door leading into his bedroom, mind drifting. He supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised that Kouyou told Chuuya about it—Dazai wasn’t explicit enough with his orders, only telling Kouyou to ensure that Dazai himself never knew anything about her. Of course, the woman would bring it up to Chuuya, probably hoping Chuuya had some insight into why Dazai is so insistent on your protection. 

Chuuya didn’t, of course, but he guesses that only made the topic of you and Dazai’s apparent random attachment to you even more of an interesting topic for their wine sessions. Honestly, he’s surprised that Chuuya didn’t realize earlier that the girl he’s been seeing is the one he’s had Kouyou assigned to. Kouyou surely should have known by now.

You’re fast asleep by now. He got lucky because of how exhausted you were over the stress of the whole situation: he didn’t have to deal with the questions that he was certain would arise as soon as you caught sight of the Port Mafia base. You were all but falling asleep on your feet as the two of you stood in the glass elevator leading up to Dazai’s apartment, the penthouse in the centermost of the five buildings consisting of the Port Mafia base. Dazai thought he was about to have a heart attack when you swayed on your feet and ended up resting your head on his bicep, eyes drooping shut. You only managed a few sleepy protests as he led you to his bedroom, asking where he was going to sleep if you take his room (the fact that you worry about him when you’re even on the brink of falling asleep on your feet made his fingers tingle), but you gave in quickly at his insistence. 

He should feel some sort of pity, or sympathy, because he could see the weariness in your eyes and the fatigue plaguing your body. Dazai might not be capable of feeling pity or sympathy for most people, but if he could feel it for anyone, it would be you. But he does not, and it’s for a selfish reason, of course: your misfortune led to you turning to him for help, and the thought of that alone makes his chest feel light and giddy. 

Yes, he’s going to have to figure out some sort of excuse tomorrow for when you wake up and inevitably have questions—he is not ready for you to know about his position in the Port Mafia—but right now you’re sleeping in his bed and you’re relying on him for help. His fingers thrum against his desk, jittery with excitement, he almost forgets Chuuya is there until he hears the man let out a sharp noise of disgust at Dazai's apparent exhilaration. 

Distantly, very distantly, he knows this is bad. You’ve been smart and observant in every universe, you’re going to put together that something is seriously wrong—you were not supposed to come back to his place, but how was he supposed to say no to you when you were looking at him with teary eyes and nowhere else to go? The thought itself feels like sacrilege. 

“You know what we are and what we do,” Chuuya says, voice calmer now as he shakes his head and fishes a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with his free hand before he turns to leave. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but you’re putting this girl in danger after the lengths you went to keep her safe. I don’t get it.”

He squints a bit as Chuuya’s words ring through his head. That’s what he had thought too, but he’s the last person to admit to Chuuya that he might be right. A cold feeling starts to set over him, spreading through his chest like ice. If he’s going to think about this realistically, you’re probably already in danger just from being around him. The likelihood of someone catching sight of the two of you the past few weeks is higher than he’s comfortable with, even with the precautions that he’s taken, especially with tonight outside the club and at the convenience store. The thought is terrifying, enough to immediately kill off the jittery excitement that had been running through his body. 

Dazai’s index finger traces the outline of his lips, his mind races. What does he do? If you’re in danger, he can’t just let you go back to your apartment and leave you undefended in a sketchier part of the city. His enemies will jump on it. They’ll target you. But he can’t just keep you here. It’ll be too risky, you’ll figure out who he is and what he does, and that’s not even considering the fact that maybe you won’t even want to stay. You might wake up in the morning and head to someone else’s place—you’d made a vague comment about not wanting to intrude and going to a friend’s house tomorrow but the thought makes his stomach twist a bit. 

God, he’s so conflicted. 

But the first thing to handle is making sure that you don’t go back to your apartment alone. The rest he can figure out later on—he has to decide if he’d rather try to keep you around the base and risk you figuring out what he does (god, he wants to keep you around) or if he should just send you off to a “friend’s” (he still stands by the fact that your ‘friends’ are shitty because what sort of friends leave their drunk friend alone at a bar with a stranger—even if he knows that he’d rather let the world burn than see harm come upon you, they don’t know that) with an extra protection detail. One that you wouldn’t know is there, naturally. 

But how does he make sure you don’t go back to your apartment after the leak is fixed? 

He thinks to himself, an idea coming to him swiftly. It’s a bit dark, yes, and he’s sure that if you knew, you’d run for the hills but… to keep you safe, he would do whatever it takes. Even if you’d hate him for it if you knew. 

But what you don’t know won’t hurt you. 

“Chuuya,” Dazai says before the man can leave his apartment. Chuuya stops dead in his tracks, not turning to look at Dazai, but waiting for whatever he has to say. “I’m going to text you the number of her landlord… make sure he doesn’t get her apartment fixed any time soon. And let Gin-chan know I might have a guest for the next few days so she’s not caught off guard tomorrow.”

Chuuya scoffs. “You’re a freak, Dazai.”

Dazai only smiles idly to himself, eyes sliding shut as he leans back in the chair at his desk, Chuuya leaves without another word, Dazai loses himself in thoughts of you. 

A freak? Yeah, maybe. In love? Definitely. 

Should he convince you to stay with him? The thought bounces around his head frantically. He doesn’t know the answer. The more careful part of him screams no, tells him that it’s too dangerous to keep you around. It’s dangerous for you, because the longer you’re around here, the more at risk you’ll be of getting hurt. It’s dangerous for him, because the longer you’re around here, the more at risk he’ll be of getting exposed,

But the less logical part of him, the one that’s consumed by the idea of you, and the chance he has of being with you, is much louder. 

You came to him, he reminds himself. You found him. He tried to be good. He did everything he could to stay away from you, but you still found him. And you chose to seek him out again. You chose to. It’s easier to blame it on you, convince himself that you brought this upon yourself, as if you had any idea what sort of sick and fucked up person Dazai really is, as if you have any idea what’s happened to you in every other universe because of him.

He can never go back to how he was living before meeting you; he can’t. 

You came to him. 

Why should he have to let you go now?

With that thought in mind, Dazai thinks the answer to his question is made abundantly clear. 

[ilwonuu]

hi! can u req a joshua fluff (with smut haha) in which shua will surprise wife!y/n on her bday but y/n has bigger news (🤰).. thank u 🩷🩵

omg yes!! i love this idea sm!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST💖💖

▸ ִֶָ ⊹all for you. h. jisoo

summary- your husband wants to make your birthday the most memorable birthday you have ever had. he surprises you with a beautiful date night. but you have a bigger surprise;)

warnings- fluff with plot, smut with plot, lots of love (ew), pregnancy sex, unprotected sex, pet names(honey, my love, reader calls joshua shua a lot), dirty talk, oral fem receiving, breeding kink kinda???, creampie, lots and lots of affection, hoshi is mentioned a few times, happy marriage, lmk if i missed anything 😘

authors note- i made this way longer than i intended it to be bc i kinda got carried away. i hope there isn’t too many typos since i haven’t proof read it yet and stuff anyways thank you for reading<3

joshua always would go all out for your birthday. he would do anything he can do make sure you had the best day ever. you never had any worries about your birthday but this one was a little different. you had something important to talk to him about. it was that you guys are going to be parents. you know he will be happy with the news but there is a voice in the back of your head saying that this might ruin your birthday. you love your husband and he loves you but we’re you guys ready to have a baby?

you roll out of bed around 10 am seeing your husband is nowhere to be found in the bedroom. making your way to your bathroom to wash up. “shua?? where are you?” you yell loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom. “honey im in the kitchen! im making you breakfast in bed so go lay back down.” he says shouting back. you smile at his words complying with what he asked you to do. getting back into your shared comfy bed.

joshua comes into not to late after you do with a plate of pancakes, bacon,fruit, and your favorite coffee he makes for you. “happy birthday my beautiful wife. you deserve the world.” he says setting your food down on the table next to you bending down to pull you into a sweet kiss. “thank you shua. i really appreciate you.” you smile at him and grab your food. “and i love you so much. i have so many things planned for you today. you feeling up to it?” he asks sitting next to you on your bed. you nod eating your food. “i love you too.”

he kisses your cheek and steals a piece of your bacon. “can i have this?” he asks taking a bite. “shua you’re already eating it.” you laugh at him taking another bite of your pancakes. “i did good on this bacon. it tastes so good.” he smiles at you and kisses your face all over. “okay my love i was thinking we could go shopping a little bit and then we can come back and watch a movie then i can make you dinner. or we can go out to eat. whatever you would like honey.” he says giving sweet kisses against your neck. “mm that sounds so nice shua. you are too sweet to me.” you finish your food turning to pull him into a hug. “you deserve it beautiful. wanna go back to sleep for a little longer or should we start getting ready?” you get under the covers. “definitely more sleep.” you say pulling him to cuddle you. “of course honey. rest all you want we can get up when you want.” he say kissing you before closing his eyes nuzzling his face into your neck. you two both falling asleep tangled in eachothers arms.

—

you wake up a few hours later shifting slightly seeing a still asleep joshua. kissing his forehead slightly before heading to the bathroom. quickly peeing before coming back into your bed room. “mm honey are you ready to get up?” he says still with his eyes closed. “yes i am if you are shua.” he finally opens his eyes stretching slightly smiling at you. “okay honey we can shower real quick then we can leave to do your shopping.” you nod making your way to the bathroom with him slowly following behind you. shutting the door after you both. “come here my love.” he says pulling you into a hug kissing you softly. “you look so beautiful today honey. i can never get bored of looking at you.” he kisses down your jaw making his way down your neck. “mm shua that was cheesy.” you laugh moving your head a little so he can have a better angle. “you love it tho.” he lifts you to sit on the sink smiling at you while he pulls off his shirt. “you smell so good. i bet you’ll taste even better.” he smiles pecking your lips again. “can i?” he asks rubbing your thigh slightly. “hm can you what shua?” he laughs. “can i eat you out? i really want to make you feel good. then we can take a shower hm??” you nod slowly.

he smiles at you before kneeling in front on you slowly pulling your shorts and panties down in one quick movement. “my love you’re soaking. what have you been thinking about?” he looks up at you kissing your inner thighs. “y-you. i want you shua pl-“ he cuts you off by licking a long stripe up your slit humming against you. causing you hands to immediately go to his hair. “o-oh shua feels so good.” he smirks against you slowly inserting his tongue inside of you fucking it into you slightly. you tug on his hair slightly rougher this time throwing your head back in pleasure. “holy shit shua. p-please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he continues his movements looking up at you through his eyelashes. slowly bringing his finger up to rub your clit. he is moaning into your pussy sending tingles down your spine. he is lost in eating you out. his face now having your arousal all over it.

his dick is now rock hard in his shorts as he watches your face change more and more with the pleasure he is giving you. “shua im gonna c-cum!” he continues watching you rubbing your clit faster feeling you clench around his tongue. you immediately release on his tongue moaning his name. he licks up all you cum before standing up and smiling at you. “i can never get enough of that my love. you taste amazing.” you still trying to catch your breath before moving to stand up. he pulls you into a sweet kiss. “see? you are so sweet.” he kisses your cheek. “lets shower hm?” he smiles before pulling both of your clothes off starting the water for the shower.

—

“shua i’m all ready to go!” you say making your way to your living room where he is waiting. he smiles at you. “you look beautiful honey. lets go.” he grabs your hand leading you guys out of the house and to his car.

the car ride to the mall was filled with you two singing the music that you wanted to play. “okay we have arrived!! lets go in.” he smiles getting out of your car making his way to your side to let you out. “my love.” he smiles grabbing your hand. “my shua.” you say laughing. “what store do you want to go in first?” he says as you two are hand and hand making your way into the mall.

—

what you didn’t know is that joshua had a surprise for you. he has asked the guys to help set up your house for the perfect movie and dinner night. and thats why he had you guys leave a little early to go shopping. joshua is somewhat nervous something will go wrong. causing him to be paranoid sending soonyoung a text.

joshua- are you guys almost done? y/n is getting tired of shopping she wants to come home soon.

soonyoung- yes! we have a few more things to do for your room like you asked and then we’ll be leaving.

joshua- oh thank god. thank you thank you. i appreciate you guys helping i owe you.

soonyoung- no problem. we love y/n she deserves a good day!!

joshua- love u😘

soonyoung- love u too 😨

soonyoung- tell me how she likes it!!!

“joshua? who are you texting?” you say smiling at him and his focused expression. “just soonyoung. him and the guys say happy birthday.” you make a sweet expression. “aw thats sweet. tell them i say thank you and that i love them.” “will do my love.” he smiles putting his phone away. “okay i’m thinking one more store then we can leave okay honey?” he says smiling before walking into another store with you.

—

soonyoung- we just finished! good luck bro tell me how it goes

“okay my love you ready to go?” you nod quickly. “please my feet hurt.” you say laughing as he puts you on his back running to the car. “joshua im heavy you better not drop me!” he laughs at you. “first of all you are nowhere near heavy and i would never drop my beautiful wife okay?” you roll your eyes at him. “you’re being so cheesy today.” he puts you down as you make it to the car. “once again i know you love it.” you scoff looking away from him. “okay maybe a little bit. but only a little!!” you say as he opens your car door for you. “come on my love lets get you home.” he says quickly starting the car to head back to your house.

you two arrive back noticing his mood changing slightly to a more nervous one. “you okay shua?” he smiles at you. “of course i just want you to have a good day.” “shua i am having the best day ever. you are treating me so well do not worry.” you rub his back. “i always worry because you deserve the best y/n.” “you are the best shua. you are the sweetest person i could ask for. you never have to worry you always make me feel so special.” you pull him into a kiss. “come on love lets go inside.” you say getting out the car following him into your house.

you walk into your home seeing all the rose pedals and candles lit. “joshua you didn’t have to do all this.” you look at him lovingly feeling him pull you in to hug him. “i know honey but like i said you deserve the best. i asked the guys to help with the decorations. do you like it?” he asks rubbing your back softly. “i love it joshie thank you.” he smiles. “okay my love have you decided if you wanna go out to dinner or have me cook?” “mm i don’t really feel like leaving again i would rather stay and have you cook for me if thats okay.” he kisses you sweetly. “of course my love. you hungry now or do you want to wait?” you think for a second. “i’m a little bit hungry now.” he nods kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen. “okay well you get comfortable i will start on dinner okay?” you nod smiling at him making your way to the couch.

you loved joshua. he is the best husband you could ever ask for. he was always this sweet. when you guys first started dating he was embarrassed about how much he would do for you. he would go out of his way to see you even when he barely had the time. joshua loved you and he had no doubt that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you. when he asked you to marry him you were shocked but relieved that he felt the same way about how strong your love is. you had nothing to worry about with him. now you’re feeling a little uneasy. what if he isn’t ready to have kids with you? he knows that you guys have unprotected sex all the time. but sometimes he just doesn’t want to pull out. it was bound to happen right? how do you go about tell him? before dinner? after dinner? tomorrow? you’re all over the place. you took the pregnancy test just a couple of days ago. but last night you took another just to be sure and as they all said you were pregnant.

you turn on your tv pulling you away from your thoughts for a moment putting on a rom com for you and joshua to watch when he is done cooking. you get lost in the movie as you wait for the food to be done. “my love dinner is served.” he says bringing over a steak dinner he prepared. “shua it smells so good. thank you so much.” you smile at him as he sits down with his food next to you. “of course honey you know i’d do anything for you.” he kisses your forehead again before both of you begin to eat. you finish your food rather fast causing joshua to laugh. “you really were hungry hm my love.” he smiles finishing up his food shortly after. you nod moving closer to him.

“what do you want to do now my love? want to watch another movie? want a massage? i can make love to you. the choice is yours.” you shake your head. “actually um..i need to tell you something.” he shifts to look at you. “oh really? whats up my love you look nervous.”

you don’t look back at him. trying to figure out how to tell him. “um well uh i went the store the other night right and i grabbed a few things.” he nods showing you that he is listening to you closely. “u-uh so well i got a few pregnancy tests just to have them. and i took the tests just because i wanted to see what it would say. um joshua i’m pregnant.” he doesn’t take his eyes off you. not know what to say right away. “are you serious? we’re gonna have a baby?” he says immediately holding your stomach looking at you so happily. you nod tearing up slightly. “we’re gonna be parents.” you smile now crying a little bit. “oh my god??? we’re gonna be parents. you’re gonna be a mom! im gonna be a dad??” he pulls you into a kiss. “i love you so much. i cannot believe this. im so happy y/n. i wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else.” he rubs your stomach softly. “you are gonna be the most gorgeous mommy.” he kisses you and pulls you onto his lap. “i was so nervous to tell you all day. i was scared you were gonna leave me or something when i told you.”

he shakes his head “my love you know i would never leave you in a million years. you’re stuck with me forever.” he kisses you deeply rubbing your side slightly. you start to grind your hips down onto him moaning slightly. “is making love to me still on the table?” you ask smirking slightly. “of course honey whatever you want i will give to you.” he pulls you into another kiss. this one seeming more desperate and rough causing you to moan slightly into the kiss. “mm lets go up to the bedroom so i can do this properly.” he lifts you up and takes you to the room. he lays you down on the bed gently climbing over you. “i can’t wait to see you with your baby bump. you’re gorgeous now but i know im gonna fall even deeper in love with you.” he says causing you to tear up again. “j-jesus joshua you’re gonna make me cry.” he wipes the tear that escapes your eye and kisses you cheek. “don’t cry my love. i mean what i said. you are everything to me. let me show you how much you mean to me.”

he slowly takes off both of your clothing. he trails kisses down your body making you whimper quietly. “mm honey i want to hear you okay? don’t hide from me. you sound so beautiful.” he says before kissing around your neck and chest.

“let me finger you so i don’t hurt you m’kay?” slowly gliding his finger over your slit.

joshua wasn’t huge but he was not anything close to small. you will never get used to how big his dick in no matter how many times you guys have had sex.

he slowly inserts a finger into you moaning as he feels how wet you are. “my pretty pretty girl. you look so gorgeous like this. i wanna look at you forever.”

you moan as he slides another finger into you gently as he kisses your nose. “mm shua please more. it feels so g-good.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he complies sliding a third finger into you kissing up your body again. “yea my love? you gonna make a mess on my fingers? do it honey i want you to make a mess for me. can you do that pretty?” he smiles moving some of your hair out of your face. you nod as he curls his fingers deeper inside you. hitting the spot you need him at most over and over. “s-shua i’m gonna cum.” he nods “yea honey? cum for me. i want to taste all of it my love.” he pulls you into a kiss slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth. that brought you over the edge. you clench around his fingers pulling away from the kiss releasing a loud moan. “mm thats it pretty. fuck you’re doing so well.” you immediately cum after hearing those words. he continues to fuck his fingers into you having you ride out your high.

pulling his fingers out shortly after to pull them up to his mouth and suck on them licking them clean. “you taste so fucking good every time. i could eat your cum for every meal if you’d let me.” you laugh at him slightly. “mm i could do the same for you.” he smiles slighting rubbing his dick along your folds. “you ready my pretty girl?”

you nod quickly looking down at where he is rubbing you. seeing he immediately starts pushing in slowly. his head is thrown back and his head is already sweaty causing hair to stick to his forehead. “fuck you are so tight still my love.” he watches you face as your fucked out expression turns into a more fucked out expression. he pushes in all the way bottoming out not beginning to move yet so you can adjust. “you okay honey? you’re taking me so well. “ he doesn’t take his eyes off of you and where you two are connected. “i-i’m okay shua. you can move.” he smiles before pulling out and slowly pushing back in causing him to release a few grunts. “s-shit you’re always so tight. i’m sorry baby im gonna cum so quick.” you just moan as you feel him thrust deeper inside of you.

“you’re so wet my love im sliding right in.” he says with his mouth falling open as he watches how he fucks you. sex has filled the room. the sound of your wetness, skin slapping, your high pitched moans, and joshuas deep grunts. “s-shua harder please.” he doesn’t say another word grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head fucking you deeper and harder. “like this?” he says cursing under his breath again. “y-yes fuck! oh my god you’re so deep shua i cant.” he groans again leaving more kisses on your body.

“you’re taking me so well my love. pretty pussy, pretty girl, everything about you is so. fucking. pretty.” he punctuates the words with a harder thrust each time.

“i’m c-close shua!” he moves his other hand down to open your legs wider. “shit honey me too im gonna fill you up. you want that? want me to fuck another baby into you?” you nod dumbly not being able to respond at this point. “you gonna cum pretty? i feel you clenching around me. feels so fucking good.” he throws his head back again feeling you release your juices onto his dick. “fuck yes my love. cum on my dick. make a mess all for me.” his dick twitches at his own words as he cums deep inside you.

fucking into you slowly as he calms down from his high. he pulls out a little after watching as his cum mixed with yours flows onto the bed. “look at you my pretty mess. fuck honey. you did so well for me.” you nod at him and sit up slightly feeling more cum drip out of you. “let me get something to clean you up my love.” he gets up pulling on his shorts heading into the bathroom to grab a rag. he wets it with warm water before making his way back into your room cleaning you up gently.

“you okay honey?” you hum. “never been better.” he finishes cleaning you up and grabs you a new pair of clothes handing it to you. “here you go honey let me change the sheets then we can lay down.

—

you didn’t realize that you fell asleep after you guys got back into bed after cleaning up. you wake up to see your lovely husband laying next to you. talking on the phone to who you assume is to be soonyoung or seokmin. “yea shes sleeping right now when she wakes- oh shes awake one second.” h shifts to you. “im so sorry honey did i wake you up? you were sleeping so peacefully.” you shake your head and smile. “its okay shua don’t worry.” he nods before pulling his phone from his ear putting it on speaker.

“soonyoung she can hear you say hello.” he says looking at you. “hi y/n!! happy birthday i hope you liked the decorations.” you smiled “yes i loved it so much. thank you guys for helping shua do that for me it means a lot.”

“no problem at all y/n we love you more than we love joshua!” you laugh slightly as you see your husband roll your eyes. “oh soonyoung i can tell you our news now that shes awake i didn’t want to tell you without her.” he is all smiley now excited to tell him what is gonna be in the next chapter of your life. “okay tell me!! are you guys moving into a new house?? what hurry up!!!” soonyoung says causing you both to laugh. “you want to tell him honey?” he says grabbing a hold of your hand. “yea. well you’re about to be uncle soonyoungie!” the line is silent for a second and then there is a loud scream. “Y/N YOURE PREGNANT OH MY GOD.”

“yes we are having a baby.” you smile at joshua to see that he is already looking at you with so much love in his eyes. “that is amazing you guys. im so happy for you. we need to throw a baby shower! got to go i need to start planning this!” he hangs up making you and joshua laugh at him again. he pulls you into his arms. “i love you so much. can’t wait to see you be the best mom ever.” he kisses you deeply not letting go of you for the rest of the night.

[hyewka]

hii !! this is my first question thing .. can u maybe do a perv!yeonjun?

warnings: perv bestfriend!yeonjun, jealousy, corruption kink, stealing clothes, sniffing underwear/yeonjun has a thing for scent in general, obsessive behavior, switch!yeonjun, not proofread

"you save yourself?" he breathes, blinking rapidly like he was trying to piece this sacred information together.

"yeah, i mean, i just sort of ...grew up with the expectation." you say shrugging. it wasn't a big deal, you've always just went through it, not having the desire to be sexually active during your teenage years anyway.

yeonjun stares at you mind boggled, lips slightly parted before he just lets out a light scoff, brows slowly knitting together.

you shift awkwardly at his reaction- you're not sure what you expected but it wasn't whatever ...that was. yeonjun was the most open minded person you've met and know. exact reason why it's a breeze for you to confide in him about anything and everything.

you've never told him about your stupid virginity pact assuming he'd never live the information down-- a sophomore at college was a virgin? it didn't help that yeonjun's reputation included a lot of...well, the opposite of a virgin.

but the more you got to know him, the more you let the worry go-- he never seemed the type. until now, the regret slowly creeping up of ever mentioning it.

yeonjun suddenly takes a swig of his drink, still dazed.

"i mean i get it, it's not very feminist of me is it?" you try lightening up the mood, laughing at your own joke.

yeonjun's not on the same thought train. whatsoever. your earlier statement about finally 'trying it out' sticking out sorely in his head now knowing you were a virgin. "and...and you're going to give it up to fucking wooyoung?" he spits out with a mocking sneer.

okay, now you're confused. you turn your body on the couch to yeonjun, who had his forearms laid on his knees, posture bent with a strong grip on his red cup eyes focused on the crowd dancing to the blasting music. "what's wrong with wooyoung? i mean he's my boyfriend. and you guys are friends...did he do something wrong?"

yeonjun's venomous smile withers, practically evaporates as he throws an arm around your shoulder- if you hadn't spent hours doing your hair, he would've normally ruffled it, but his hands avoid it, his trademark teasing smirk that you could probably draw from memory showing up, "nothing, nothing's wrong. i was just messing with you. i got you, didn't i?"

you blink dumbfounded, but before you could question the sudden transition he had already switched topics and you reluctantly let it go.

yeonjun who goes home that night, far from his original plan to get trashed, opening his closet in desperate search of the cardigan you forgot on his couch a few days ago. when he spots it, he gulps, grabbing it and looking down at the baby blue in his hand for a second.

when he originally recognized it as yours, thoughts of calling you to pick it up weren't lasting. see, yeonjun has recently been hit by a sudden infatuation with you the past year, even after you started going out seriously with wooyoung. he wasn't too concerned, afterall, it was natural-- you were attractive, of course in the way of your friendship he'd eventually feel something more. it happened with more than half of his female friends, it always proved to be fleeting.

but the longer he caught his eyes trailing down your ass, subconsciously licking his lips, before snapping out of it and stuffing his perverted hands in his pockets to stop himself from losing control, the harder he felt he had to have you. it was so bad that his occasional flings mortifyingly started sounding a lot more like you...and looked a carbon copy.

so what if had a sickenly desire of touching, ruining every inch of your body? what could he do with your silly cardigan anyway?

yeonjun who finds it almost bothersome as he approaches his bed, grip tight on the fabric, wrinkling it in his hand. the fabric that's responsible to the haven that was your scent, stenched with you, everything you. you've always worn it out, to the point he thought it was your only jacket (to which he tried suggesting to gift you a new one), but you told him it was because the fabric was breathable, comfortable compared to most things in your closet.

he guessed it was your favorite.

so what would you think of him now? staining your favorite piece of clothing, hand shaking as he immediately shoves his nose in the line of the cardigan, his control breaking as he takes a deep exhale in, flickering his eyes shut, his lungs filled with you. the power of smell, it felt like you were right next to him when he had his eyes closed, taking another whiff before frantically trying to smell every inch of the fabric. his head light with ecstasy, his hand drive themselves over his bulge, feeling his hard on through his loose sweats, before his pace picks up, palming his dick, his breathing heavy and unrhythmic -- the mere scent of you making him go mad.

perv!yeonjun who gets dangerously fast to his climax, his hand faltering as he takes another whiff, groans easily slipping out of his mouth with the way they shamefully hung open-- so addicted he thinks he might go insane, his drool trickling down under his chin, some wiped on your cardigan because he was a dog with a bone. a crazed animal he realizes when he finally shudders, soiling his boxers, watching a large wet path spreading rapidly with growth on the area of his crotch.

who knew he could fucking get off of a cardigan? that's when the panic settled in as his hand shake in realization of what the fuck he just did.

he ruined his pants...because of your cardigan.

perv!yeonjun who feels like such a freak when he bumps into you at campus, yet continues to use your cardigan to his free will, hips canting against his bed with his head buried in the fabric, "f-fuck, y/n, you do this to me..." his babbles are so shameful to the way he carries himself, strong, masculine--anything but weak to a scent of a mere girl.

but it was you. the girl he felt he could spend eternity laying his head on, eternity hearing just a laugh, a snappy retort, a stupid dumb joke-- anything, he could do anything for you, with you, anything and he would find no use with anyone else.

he tries to get rid of his concerningly growing infatuation, deciding that he was acting out because of his lack of pussy-- going to every frat party on thursday, taking a pretty girl to a secluded enough space, have a pretty good fuck, feeling pretty fucking good on his way home-- until he's on his toilet again, left hand jerking off his swollen cock, his tip leaking precum, gawking down at your new post, biting his lips so painful at the shot of your ass in skinny jeans. "fuck!" he yells, strings of his cum spurting all over his screen, so frustrated with the hold you had on him, especially when you spared him zero romantic attention.

you had your heart reserved for someone else, and it was never not shoved in his face. it was the main drive for him-- when he spots wooyoungs hand sneakily going dangerously under your waist, his lips too close to your ears, body pressed against your ass a little too much for his comfort-- the occasional eye rolls were impossible to control in the first place, but these days, rage got to the best of him.

as far as he knew, based on your rambles lately, you haven't slept with wooyoung yet. you were still a virgin. and the scent of you was wearing off the cardigan, not able to get himself off properly.

he couldn't return it, the fabric was ruined with stains of his cum not washed off even after the third circle in the washing machine-- he impulsively opted to buy an identical, praying to god you wouldn't notice the difference.

perv!yeonjun who has a habit of lingering in an embrace with you, nose buried in your hair, discreetly trying to inhale your smell, before you awkwardly try to pull out of his suffocating grasp. "yeonjun, you're acting like you haven't seen me in years." you say, finally breaking the embrace with yeonjun's hands defeatedly falling to his side, staring at you with such intensity you don't notice.

its so so full of pity, his eyes, hidden with all the perverted things he would do to you- hes' thought of doing to you. his mind was rotten, if you let him, he'd take you right then and now. slamming his hips into his best friend's tight pussy, breaking your hymen, mixture of his seed and proof of your virginity taken-- a sight to be imprinted in his memory foreer.

hes dreamt of it even more vividly, being the one to take your virginity, in his fantasies- the one you've reserved for him. it's why you haven't fucked wooyoung yet, right? you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

yeonjun who has built a pile, a haven of all the guilty stolen treasures. clumsy with the elastic bands of his boxers, quick as he flings out his dick from the restriction of his pants, his hand slow on his shaft, dragging up and down with the stickiness of his precum, burying his nose into h like the fabric would evaporate into thin air at any time, like this was his last shot at getting something remotely reminiscent of you, deep groans of your name that sometimes get out of his control, turning to loud moans, the family next door unappreciative.

perv!yeonjun who's addicted to taking your things, stuffing it in either his pockets or bag, ruining it back at home the same day with his filthy thick load, your suspicions rising only making it more thrilling with each trashed item.

yeonjun who loses his last bits of restraints when you're jokingly pushed directly on his lap, floors of the living room being occupied by most of your friends invited for the group watch, the couches all full, chairs all used, of course they thought it'd be funny if you sat on yeonjun. you didn't mind it all too much, finding no issue with sitting on your best friend-- you've done it a few times before, skinship was normal between the both of you. but you still wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

you lean your head back to whisper in his ear, noticing the way his pronounced adam apple bopped up and down, which was odd-- yeonjun being nervous? but you ignore it, "i can stand if you're not comfortable."

his eyes tear from the premier that has the entire living room roaring with excitement, "n-no, it's okay, you're alright. i'm alright."

"...you sure? you don't look like you're alright."

"i'm seriously good y/n, let's focus on the show, we've been waiting for a whole year."

hesitantly you nod, it's true, the cliff hanger last season was a bite in the ass, so you ignore your gut, tuning in with the rest of your friends.

yeonjun who can't help the soft whimpers escaping his lips the more you jump at a scene then fall back down, his boner growing harder and harder, trying to go to the bathroom, but you're too focused on the show he's stuck under you as you adjust your position every few minutes, your ass with no knowledge, getting him off. his breathing gets heavier, nose flaring, so thankful the lights were off and it was night, too crowded for anybody to catch onto the way he was bucking his hip up into you, making the friction enough to get his head dizzy, arms snaking around your waist, tightening the closer he gets, the way you're so clueless spurring him on-- his face dipping into the crook of your neck, sweat dripping down his forehead, taking a deep breath before muffles his moan with a bite down his lip, whimpers as he finally releases.

he throws his head back on the couch, trying to calmly catch his breath, a grin spreading across his face letting his mind drift to how heavenly itd feel being inside you if grinding against you felt this good.

you turn your head back, voice hoarse and quiet, "...yeonjun?"

"yeah?"

your eyes trail down, and it takes the perv a few seconds to realize before his forehead crease flatten.

oh shit.

yeonjun just stained your leggings.

----

[kissitbttr]

Hi lovely! Your cake tasting fic was literally immaculate. I was just thinking about how r and miguel met, and how cute it would be to see a blurb where he gets all flustered when he sees her for the first time? You are amazing! Xoxo

sending u lots and lots of kisses MWAH MWAH thank u baby😚😚😚 anyHOWWWW i’m so glad someone asked for this! I’ve been waiting for it TEEHEE! now i did mention a little bit on the cake testing fic how they first met, sooo i might just have to expand from there yuhyuh!

this turned out a bit onger than i expected lol but I hope you'd enjoy it regardless!

miguel masterlist

—

miguel meeting his wife for the first time

-

“the laboratory is 80% damaged, miguel. we need to get it fixed or else we can no longer continue our work.”

miguel sighs deeply, pinching his eyebrows with his index finger and thumb. the ungodly amount of research papers stacked neatly in the corner of his working desk, along with bunch of scrunched papers on top.

“jessica, no ahora”

she rolls her eyes at his stubbornness, arms crossed over her chest. his eyes glued on the monitor, framed glasses perched on the bridge of his thick nose bone

“you need a break.”

“I don’t” he disagrees. if anything, he needs to put on more hours of work. “i can’t leave before everything is done. we’ll get it fixed next week.”

“that’s what you said last week, miguel” jessica points out, eyes scanning around the room. “look at this mess! the HQ haven’t got fixed in months! if you want this building to be safely secured and leave no casualties in the future, you have to do what i say.”

again, miguel disagrees. shaking his head without looking up. “and i said, no.”

but jessica refuses to be told like that, shrugging her shoulders like it’s nothing. “well too bad, because i already found someone who’s willing to work on it and you’re meeting them”

that seems to catch his attention, his pen dropping off between his finger as his head whips towards jessica’s direction.

“you—what?!”

“i’m not going to be responsible for many injured people in the future. not when we have too much enemies coming to bite our asses so i suggest you get down from there and come here”

miguel has a temper. a very short one, and it’s not easy to control it when he’s surrounded by people who’s trying to tell him what to do. it’s supposed to be the other way around.

but miguel has no energy to fight back, so instead of telling her to fuck off, he just nods his head.

“alright fine” an upset mutter falls from his lips before he makes his way down the stairs. hands on his hips. “where is he?”

jessica scoffs, “why do you always assume everyone is a he?” she chuckles lightly at miguel’s quirk eyebrow. “you can come in now, ms. y/l/n”

the sound of his office door clicks after that, and miguel seems to be less than impressed because he has no energy in him to talk to people other than himself,

yet, his jaw drops instantly soon as he sees the person who walks through it,

a woman—a very gorgeous one—who looks like to be in her mid twenties makes an entrance as her heels click against the marble floor, carrying what seems to be a tablet and folders. she’s dressed in a grey long tight fitting dress that falls down to her ankles with a cropped beige colored cardigan completing the whole look as an outer, leaving only the left shoulder exposed. a smile appears on her face as she fixes the frame of her black reading glasses.

miguel has never seen a more beautiful woman than the one he’s staring at right now,

“ms. y/l/n, this is miguel o’hara. the head of Alchemax and leader of Spider Society.” jessica smirks at the way miguel is gaping right now, as he makes no intention in hiding it away.

guess, her 70% of her plan is slowly working.

“ugh! come on, jessica you’ve known me long enough to stop saying my last name” she giggles, “mr. o’hara. my name is y/n. it is very nice to meet you. jessica had told me many things about you. i am so impressed with everything you had done”

‘fuck, even her voice is pretty’ he thinks

he regains his composure, clearing his throat before taking off his glasses. “thank you, y/n. you and jessica are close?”

with a nod, she responds, “we go way back. haven’t been off each other’s arms for a long time. hard to keep me away from this woman”

so jessica had been hiding her away from him? that’s rude.

“oh hush. always with the sweet talk” jessica waves her off with a smile. “miguel, y/n has plans on remodeling the hq for us. i’ve told her about what needs to be done and so forth. she has already inspected the lab, cafetería, training rooms. this smart woman right here came with conclusions in just five minutes.”

a blush creeping into y/n’s cheeks, shyly tucking a loose hair behind her ear which makes miguel’s heart warms at the sight,

“i’ve seen her work and i wouldn’t just bring anyone when it comes to our matter. she’s the perfect person for this. now since i have so many things to catch up on, i hope it’s okay for me to leave you two and have her explain it all—“

“yes” miguel replies a bit too quickly, causing the two women to raise their eyebrows. this makes him slightly bit embarrassed at how eager he might have come off. “i mean-yeah, of course. it’s not like i was doing anything. have a bit of a time off.”

“i though you said—“

“that’s enough jessica. thank you” he nods at her, shooting her a tight smile. “i would love to hear it.”

a giddiness blooms in his chest when y/n gives him a toothy grin. and it may become his favorite thing to look at,

“alright then. i’ll see you later. bye, sweetheart” jessica waves at her friend before walking out of miguel’s office and shutting the door behind her,

now it’s just them,

y/n’s gaze averts back to his tall figure. she had heard stories about miguel o’hara. jessica loves to spill teas about her partner and had showed pictures of him when y/n was curious on how he look like. he is indeed handsome.

but now, looking at him in person? fuck, even the greek gods are no match to him

beautiful bronze skinned, broad shoulders, high cheekbones with sharp jawlines. she glances a bit at his toned chest then down to his torso for a bit. abs rock hard enough to be seen through the working shirt he’s wearing. this man built like he contains zero body fat.

however, his mesmerizing red eyes are what got her hooked.

“it’s very nice of you to make the time for this, mr. o’hara. i know you are a very busy man and i hate to be the one who’s preventing you from your work.”

miguel’s head shakes, giving her a small genuine smile. “no apologies necessary. and please, call me miguel”

“okay then, miguel” she nods, returning his smile. “may i begin showing you what i’ve been working on?”

miguel’s arm extends towards a large wooden table, allowing her to walk first. “by all means” he folds his arms behind his back, following her from behind.

he’s very much struggling not to look at her ass while she moves,

“okay, so” she lays her things flat on the table, getting to work quickly. “i’ve planned a pre-design for your laboratory, given that the lab is one that needs extra precautions and highly detailed instructions, i’ve figured i should get that one done first. and here” she unlocks her tablet before tapping one app, showing the minimum design. “there are important keys that needs to be highlighted. i need exact measurements of how many people will be coming in and out of your lab, objects you’re thinking of storing, etc. because it will determine the amount of space i’ll be working on”

miguel doesn’t know jack shit about what she’s talking about but fuck, it sounds incredibly sexy to his ears,

“jessica had explained to me before that there will be less than fifteen people working in there. i would advise to create a fingerprint for entry. and it will require more space, more equipment and materials for me and my team to be able to carry on with our tasks. but i need you to not worry, miguel. i’ve done the trials and errors to limit the damage that might occur with the calculations.” she pushes her tablet for him to see clearly, colorful scribbles of geometry with shapes and patterns,

not only that, but she has a few mockups too. giving him a small vision on how the area would look like once it’s done.

miguel’s eyebrows raise, moving a bit closer to where she stands. “christ. this is amazing. you did that in…?”

“a week” she finishes with a smile, nails tapping against the table. watching how his eyes amazed at her small simple work “some would take more than that but, i take my work seriously, i don’t like postponing.”

his eyes move upwards to look at her, impressed by the details and efforts she had done with it. one thing about miguel, is that he is very much attracted to people who are putting their careers above anything,

and she has ticked that box,

“indeed” he lets out a breathe, nodding. “does that mean you don’t have a lot of free time?”

she thinks for a while. “not much definitely. but it’s not like i’m missing out on anything. what do people do nowadays? partying and gossiping? i rather not.”

he chuckles in amusement, “understandable. i thought that you might be into those kind of stuff.”

“and what gave you the assumption?”

he raises his shoulders. “you look young. young people like to have fun.”

“and how old do you think i am?” she asks with arms crossed,

he pinches his eyebrows. “28?”

she hums with a small laugh. “i’m 26”

miguel’a eyes widen slightly, “makes me older than you, then”

“how old are you?”

“32”

“really?” she asks in disbelief. “i thought older.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. around 40ish maybe.”

“that’s quite offensive, love” he fakes a gasp, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watches her scramble through more papers,

her heart skips a beat at the nickname, though she doesn’t think much of it. “it’s a compliment. the older the better, i’d say”

miguel smiles at that, walking around the table so now he stands across from her. “what did you and jessica talk about?”

“hm?”

“about me” he confirms. “you said that the two of you had talking about me.”

“oh, well” she begins, standing up straight to look into his eyes and miguel swears his knees almost give up. “she told me how much she admires you. your intelligence, bravery. your work ethic. told me all about the good things you had done for the people—“

“i don’t know about that”

“which” she cuts him off. “i am so, undeniably impressed by. keeping the universe intact while trying not to lose your fucking mind is hard, i could tell. I don’t know how you do it. makes me admire you too”

he stares at her as if he’s searching for a trace of doubt or a lie on her face. when he finds none, his heart softens. never in his life had someone come up to him and say how he’s doing a great job. let alone being impressed.

“thank you— i needed that actually” he laughs a bit. “wish people could say the same.”

“in my opinion, i don’t think you need to know about what other people think or say. you’re a grown man, correct?” she taps the eraser of her pencil on one of her sketchbook, eyeing any misguided lines she needs to work on. “if they don’t appreciate that, might as well kick their asses into a new universe”

a genuine chuckle escapes him, nodding in agreement. “i keep that in mind” he clears his throat, thinking about whether or not to make a small talk,

she notices the long pause between them before speaking up, “please, i hate awkward silence. you can talk to me, if you want to, miguel” her head shoots up at him with a playful tone,

“is architectural the only thing you’re doing?” he finds himself curious at her line of work,

“apart from this, i do a little bit of interior design. not too far off from architectural but not exactly the same either. i love anything that goes from there. putting ideas in my head before making it into a reality. also, it’s warming to see how i can help my clients dream come true” she responds simply, a small smile engraves on her pretty features.

“i also am studying in biochemistry at the moment. having a bit fun with molecular study.”

that perks his interest. “biochemistry?” he asks in a surprise tone. “i’m no expert in architectural but i don’t think it has anything to do with that.”

“it doesn’t” she confirms, picking a ruler before sketching out more details on the design. “i do it for fun.”

“for fun?” again, his question comes out in surprise, “why’s that?”

“i just think that learning shouldn’t be limited to one, you know? i like knowing about things. doing more things. the more knowledge, the more you have room to grow. plus, learning about molecules is interesting. might take it seriously on that one”

‘holy fuck, she’s perfect’

“that’s a— wow—“ he huffs out a heavy breath, can’t exactly tell if he’s impressed or intimidated. earning a soft giggle from her.

so, she’s gorgeous, brilliant and ambitious.

“how about you? jessica mentioned about you specializing in genetics. is that some sort of science thingy? because it sounds pretty fucking cool”

miguel scratches the back of his head. “something like that. i more focused on DNA’s, genetics pairings, human genome. all sorts of that. pretty boring if you ask me”

“doesn’t sound boring” she scoffs. “if anything, i find it very attractive when men are willing to learn about science. and i’m not just talking about the glasses, but the brains as well. you ticked every single quota, miguel”

she points at the working glasses he has on, causing his eyes to bug out at her boldness. y/n watches how he shyly takes it off, flustered at the compliment. she smirks as if she keeps trying to keep score on how many times she’s succeeded,

“okay, so” she continues, palms resting on the table before shifting the tablet. “let’s talk about your office. is there something you’re willing to change? because, not to be rude but your infrastructure is quite—shit. keep this up in two months then the apocalypse might have come early”

miguel bites back a laugh at her choice of words, scanning over his office walls, ceilings and monitors. “what do you suggest?”

she pauses, biting the end of her pencil before her eyes begin to do a 360 walkthrough. the sight is almost too perfect for miguel.

“we could do something about elevating the ceilings. make it a bit higher. and i see you have lesser—safety features? which could be quite concerning. we need to install biosafety cabinets, more detection systems and fire protection. I know you’re no ordinary man and could probably handle all the damage that might happen in the future but, it is my responsibility to ensure my client’s safety.”

miguel feels like a lovesick fool right now. and an asshole. he hadn't been listening a lot to what she had to say, merely focused on the way her pink glossed lips moving and how her fingers would occasionally fiddle against one another,

he imagines how her mouth would feel like, molding against his. there is no doubt in his mind that he would immediately be entranced with it.

"miguel? you listening?"

her sweet voice pulls him out of his train of thought, eyes blinking rapidly before meeting y/n's confused gaze,

"oh--y-yeah! yeah uhm.. that sounds great, would love that” his nervous chuckles makes her smile. “you’re really quick with it, aren’t you?”

“just doing my job, mr.o’hara” her tone is professional and prideful. “i’ll work quickly on the building designs, exploring more concepts for it and run a few test drives. however this might steal a bit of your time, from your job. weekly meetings are needed during this process. i’ll bring the mockups, sketches, models and everything. your inputs and feedbacks are required since this is your building after all. would that work?”

spending more time with her? oh, absolutely. he’d make it work,

he gives her a nod. “of course. i’ll clear my schedule off for it, just let me know when”

“excellent!” she exclaims with a bright smile, clapping her hands. “i will do my best to get it done as quickly as possible for you, miguel. i made a promise to jessica and i intend to keep that promise. it’s a long process but i need your full trust on me, okay? do you trust me?”

“yes” he answers without hesitation. “i trust you.”

“great! okay, that is all i have for you today. do you have any questions?”

miguel doesn’t like the idea of it ending here. not seeing her again until next week? that doesn’t feel right.

“you have a boyfriend?”

y/n halts at his question, looking at him with a confused yet amused expression. lip quirking in curiosity. “getting personal, aren’t we?”

“fuck, sorry, hermosa. you don’t have to answer that”

her heart skips a beat at the nickname. he just called her beautiful?

she eyes at how his gaze cast down the floor, head shaking. probably mentally kicking himself at the bold question he had thrown at her,

but she finds it adorable,

tilting her head to the side, she responds. “no. i don’t have a boyfriend. they are not quite up the standards i’m looking for.”

“yeah?” miguel takes a step forward, eyebrow raising. “and what are they?”

“my standards”

he finds it attractive at how she doesn’t like settling for less. she knows her worth without coming off too cocky nor bitchy about it,

“am i not allowed to know?”

“you can fuck around and find out” she smirks, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “i like to see them try.”

“you like seeing men on their knees begging for your time?”

she nods. “i live for it.”

he feels his cock growing hard at that,

“are you free, this friday?”

she bites down on her lower lip, watching how his biceps almost ripping his shirt off when he crossed his arms,

“i’m a busy woman, miguel”

“so am i” he responds quickly. “say dinner or a drink, anything. an hour or two tops, how about it?”

the way he’s looking at her should be illegal. he has this glint in his eyes. primal, confident. and it’s extremely charming in her own opinion,

she hates how it makes her heat rises,

with a hum, she slowly gather up her things, stacking the compiling files on the tablet. tucking them against her left breast.

“pick me up at 7. don’t be late. and i’m choosing where we should go. it was nice meeting you, mr. o’hara. i will see you then” with that she gives him a smile and a subtle wink before turning around to exit out of his office. leaving miguel completely speechless but enamored.

“fuck. i’m in love” he exhales a dreamy sigh

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Hunter

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.

Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)

A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.

also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)

...Hunter. 

As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up. 

Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.

The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him. 

Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?” 

“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” 

Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.

Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you’re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party. 

To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh. 

“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel. 

He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.

“An experience that requires a few ground rules.” 

You nod for him to continue.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says. 

The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?” 

The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.” 

“W-What’s rule two?” 

“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.” 

Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?” 

Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.

“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.” 

He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.

You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.” 

You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck. 

“Rule three,” he husks. 

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.” 

He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face. 

“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?” 

You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.” 

“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.” 

Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.

You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try? 

Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible. 

Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact. 

Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit. 

Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?

To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options. 

This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky. 

You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?

You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do. 

And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.

Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won. 

The wind shifts. 

Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.

His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

“Oh kriff.”  

You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you. 

When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad? 

He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for? 

The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you. 

You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap. 

“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.” 

He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.” 

Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist. 

“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”

He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.” 

He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it. 

Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.

“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit. 

He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?” 

“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure. 

Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight. 

Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human. 

He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—

Snap! 

You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.

With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative. 

The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.

Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy. 

You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.

You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs. 

A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.” 

Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.” 

With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax. 

Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself. 

“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.” 

Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there. 

Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation. 

Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.

“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.

Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again. 

Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge. 

Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.

Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive. 

You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?” 

He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants. 

“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.” 

He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth. 

“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”

“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.” 

Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.” 

You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating. 

“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb. 

You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.” 

“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks. 

“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?” 

He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....

Ragu: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @dreamie411 @bobaprint @imarvelatthestars @originalcollectionartistry @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @jedi-hawkins if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

[kthecutest]

can u write ways that &team members being (kinda overly) protective of their s/o? thanks!!

✧˚ &team members being overprotective of you ༊*·˚

Pairing ➳ &Team members x gn!reader Genre ➳ Fluff ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ A/N ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Brain block wasn't wearing off for so long (╥ᆺ╥；)and this came out way longer than I thought cuz I got carried away; as usual ( ≖‿ ≖ ). Anyways hope you'll enjoy it!

✧•——————•°•✧•°•——————•✧

K : It’s been almost forever, catching up to the latest updates with your old highschool classmate. The hot coffee in your hand already loosing its initial heat, you were completely distracted in the chaotic chatter, and had forgotten that you two weren’t the only ones there. A set of dull piercing eyes were set tightly on your distracted figure and it wasn’t long before you felt an aggressive grasp on your snatched waist, turning to the side to check the situation in a surprised state. “Ah? Seems like you guys have a lot to discuss on… hopefully I weren’t much of an interruption.. right honey..~?” a soft tone spoken, anger and possessiveness dripping straight through each letter. Just that alone was enough to send out a warning to you; he’s jealous. The morning coffee cup in his hand is now being squeezed tight to the point the liquid was starting to seep out the lid. “oh babe um.. you’re done getting the coffee? Sorry I’m afraid I must take my leave now, Nicho” you quickly answered him while excusing yourself from your conversation mate trying to make best of the situation. Nicholas, your chatmate caught up to the situation fast, giving you a nod as a goodbye as he watched you both walked away with a slight stinging stare in his narrowed eyes, almost summoning invisible daggers at K’s direction.

Thankfully, you succeeded in separating you and K from Nicho but your sigh of relief was shortly interrupted by a loud thud as you were pinned to the wall of the alleyway, a tall strong figure towering above you.

“So.. finally done running that mouth honey~?”

Fuma : The radient purple and blue dwelled on the sky canvas as nighttime falls. You were pretty bored but was also filled with a spring of energy hence why you dragged your boyfriend, Fuma all the way to the night bar with you. The original plan was to simply hang out on your seats alone with glasses of red wine in each hand and sharing kisses but it was all rudely interrupted when a sudden ‘hello’ popped out from behind you. “Ah! Euijoo..? Long time no see!” You instantly got up from your seat giving him a warm hug which he quickly reciprocated, earning a slight glare from the man beside you two. “Didn’t knew you would show up in a place like this”, you teased the young boy in front of you. Euijoo always had a pure innocent look to him. He seemed like the type of guy who have never even held a girl’s hand let alone date one and he sure is definitely not the guy to show up at a bar. “Haha I just saw you through the glass pane so I wanted to come in and join you” Somehow this statement seemed to have only pissed your already fuming boyfriend off. He came here specifically just to see you? Hell no not on my watch. You felt a hand snaked right around your waist as you felt a figure shift closer to you. “Dear~, it’s pretty late already.. maybe we should head back what do you say?” You didn’t think much of it since Fuma wasn’t a type to be jealous anyways but you only took his words as him being caring. “Sorry Euijoo, maybe we can arrange a day where we can talk properly?” “Sure! I’ll see ya soon!” You waved goodbye to the sweet boy as Fuma dragged you out of the bar in a very unusual almost aggressive manner.

The car was steadily parked in front of the apartment block as feet and shoes clashed in the door way. Your breath was directed right at Fuma’s exposed neck as he unraveled his tie. His muscular arms trapping you in between while your back stuck to the wall.

“You’re testing my patience way too much love~”

Nicholas : You were seated cozily between the two taller boys, under a warm sky blue blanket as a horror movie played on the screen in front. The couch kept constantly swinging from the motions of your best friend K jumping and twitching at every jumpscare. “Seriously K, that was a really expected one you know” “Oh c’monnn! The face was still pretty scary though!” he defended back as he clinged onto you. “Oi you’re heavy c’mon get off” K was about to make another whiny remark when he felt the pressure of a strong hand gripping onto his. “You’re gonna end up giving her a muscle strain” a low voice followed by a chuckle arose from behind you. Still the teasing chuckle did not help on hiding the irritation in your boyfriend’s voice. The grip around K’s hand kept tightening until he finally caught up to his irritation as he let go of your shoulder, the grip weakening.

You three practically just coughed awkwardly and played it off as the movie kept advancing. It’s just been a few minutes until you felt a hand of someone on your thigh. The cold rings on the fingers sent tingles down your skin but before you could try to rule out the person, you felt a low breathy voice in your right ear.

“Don’t you think you’re getting too close to your dear best friend, babygirl?”

Euijoo : “Yah! That’s cheating you can’t cross that area!” you screamed your hands set on the game controller moving your fingers on the keys in a swift pace. “Oops, sorry~ well you gotta learn how to work around the rules, you should learn from me” a prideful voice arose from the towering figure sat beside you. “Excuse me?!” It wasn't long until you started tickling him as he reciprocated the action. Fuma is one of your boyfriend’s close friend that he introduced to you since you two started dating. And well you’re a pretty outgoing person so it didn’t take long for you to get comfortable with Fuma in a brotherly way of course. You guys always bricker and share a lot of physical contact which you believed your boyfriend, Euijoo would not mind at all. He’s always been sweet and understanding and definitely is the furthest thing from being jealous or possessive. Well that’s what you thought until you felt a hand stop the bickering between you and Fuma, as the hand grabbed you gently but swiftly away from him. “Alright guys enough play fighting” the sweet voice of your boyfriend was heard loud and clear behind your ear and throughout the room.

You and Fuma just went silent with a pout on each of your faces. The boy sticked his tongue out your way as he turned his head back towards the screen to return back to gaming and you still a bit pissed off at the taunt, planned to do the same until you felt Euijoo’s whisper in your ear.

“Baby.. you shouldn’t keep testing my patience like this..~”

Yuma : Even though your cat-like boyfriend could be quite chaotic most of the time but he sure does put all his effort into planning dates for you two. Except this time things didn’t went as expected. Your best friend had somewhere to be at immediately. This led to her basically yeeting her younger brother Jo right at your doorstep telling you to keep him accompanied for the time being. It’s not that Jo was a 1 year old child or anything, he’s pretty much almost 20 and a full grown adult. But he had a pretty overprotective sister who would either keep him with her or leave him to someone she entrusts so the age card didn’t really helped. And now here he was tagging along on you and your boyfriend’s well-planned date. Not that you mind it, you pretty much just noted it as a three-people hangout. He was pretty quiet and just listened to whatever you and Yuma had to say. He’s pretty much like a cute clueless little kid following you two but that same thought didn’t seep through Yuma’s head. Not that Yuma was making a big scene out of it all neither was he fuming from the head or something. But he sure was being a pouty clingy kitty.

And it wasn’t long until you felt his body heat on your back pressed up against you. You could see Jo being distracted by some kind of treat and you were glad he was. You felt a hand on your waist and fluffy hair sneaked cozily on the side of your neck.

“Hmph.. love~ you’ll need to pay me back with cuddles when we get back home~”

Jo : The gleaming sun was already up and high in the sky. You turned to your side to check the alarm as it read 10:02am. As usual you made your way downstairs, sprinting straight to your tall boyfriend standing in the hallway with a bowl of Japanese white rice in his hands, hugging him in a whiff as he stumbled back from your sudden force. “Baby! I’m hungryyy~” you opened your mouth expecting him to be sweet enough to feed you some of his rice. Instead you opened your eyes to witness him putting the spoon in his own mouth as a cheeky smug formed across his face. Your boyfriend is the most caring one in the world but food is an exception. He’s too much of a foodie to even share which didn’t really ticked you off but still always earned a pout from you. “Hehe no worries~ your savior is here!” you heard a cute energetic tone sprang behind you as well as the wrinkling of the plastic bags containing milk buns. “Yay! You’re the best!” you whined, hugging your friend Harua instantly earning a surprised yelp from him.

That’s when you felt a sudden pull from behind as your back was glued to Jo’s chest in just a few seconds before you tasted the white rice in your mouth. Jo was tilting the spoon into your mouth with fixed cold eyes on Harua. The eyes that seem unphased but also a bit irritated in the same sense.

“No need. She prefers rice for breakfast.”

Harua : Today was supposed to be the perfect food date for you and Harua; but things did not turned out as planned when you two decided to check out a dango stall around the corner.

Harua, your sweet boyfriend, is really keen on sweets and snacks so are you. Finally, you two came up with a plan that the very next date should be at a food market where dim lit snack stalls stand in a long line of queue awaiting for visitors. And as planned, the very next Sunday you both were at the location running left and right, an assortment of dishes sprawled out on each stall. Seeing the tri-colored dango stand on the other side of the line, the two can’t help but sprint right to there. “Hello! Can I have this, and this and that.. and-“ the orders were shortly paused when you caught a glimpse of the boy in front packing up the dango orders. “Taki!?” “Oh hey! Finally noticed me missy? Didn’t knew you would forget me that easily oh my” as dramatic as ever. “Haha jk! Anyways yea I’m just working parttime in the stall here for now, maybe you wanna grab a drink or two after work hours?” You smiled, a ‘yes’ about to leave your lips before you felt your boyfriend’s gentle hand on yours.

“Sorry, her evening is occupied.”

Taki : Woo hoo! Amusement park with Taki! Nothing could compare to how fun that would be. Until you were proven wrong.

You two ended up running into your boyfriend’s older brother, K. You were now convinced this date which has just turned into a hangout is gonna be even more fun! I mean who wouldn’t have fun with such a funny chaotic playful K in the equation. But that same formula doesn’t apply to your boyfriend because an obvious shade formed on his face as soon as K popped up. Before you realized your feelings for your best friend Taki, you had a deep crush on none other than his brother K. Not that you had confessed or anything, but you simply moved on later onwards and you obviously did not take account or take notice that little Taki would be a bit possessive and careful about that past statement. But Taki knew about it all and he is infact not as friendly about it as you thought. And now things turn for worse when you’re smiling and giggling, having way too much fun with K at YOUR DATE WITH TAKI. He’s definitely fuming. “Taki? Baby you’re awfully quiet. Something wrong?” you finally took notice of his absurd change in behavior. Him not wanting to ruin the day and the vibes; “Yea yea, just maybe the heat is getting to me” Obviously, Taki’s lie did not get past you but before you could even reply to his excuse, you felt yourself get dragged in a whip right into one of the capsules of the ferris wheel.

“Finally noticed me now huh?”

Maki : You never took Maki as the type to be a jealous person especially because he is always such a gentleman. The only image of him that filled your head was gentle, sweet, understanding and definitely the furthest thing away from the words possessive or jealous.

But it seems you didn’t know him well enough or he’s just too good at hiding it; he couldn’t hide it no more though, specifically when his older cousin, Nicholas paid a visit to you two. Just a simple helper who came to help out you two in your cooking session right? Except that the helper himself is a flirt; which was not helping the situation out at all. Nicholas unlike his cousin Maki got absolutely NO CHILL, and I’m talking he will rizz you up and flirt with you any chance he got, throwing smirks at Maki’s direction whenever he catches your boyfriend’s death glares. You were cutting up some Chinese cabbage when you felt a hand snaked around your waist. Assuming it was your boyfriend you turned around to find someone else. “Woah Nicho? ..what are you doing?” “Hm? Why? Can’t I just watch from here~?” a smug look on his face. Before you could recover from your shocked state, you were pulled right into a warm chest, far left from Nicho which pushed you to look up.

“No. No you cannot watch.”

[jishyucks]

Groceries are Overrated — ldh

‣ pairing: supermarket worker!haechan x customer!reader

‣ genre: fluff, strangers-to-lovers?, sorta slice-of-life

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: After multiple encounters, you develop a crush on the boy working at your local supermarket. And who knows? Maybe the feeling is mutual.

‣ warnings?: nothing too bad I think!, mentions of hyuck breaking his pinky finger LMAO, jokes of plans to stalk/kidnap (false accusations)

‣ an: uhhhh tell me how I made an entire fic that’s set in a mf grocery store (˶x     x˶);; it genuinely was only supposed to be like 2k or less,, this is how u know that I romanticize EVERYTHING (sigh imagine how easy life would be if situations like these existed)

‣ taglist: @flowerjun @mosviqu

Your roommate, Karina, had the knack of sending you out to the grocery store against your will. In fact, you couldn't even recall how many times it had occurred in the last month. It feels like you’ve dropped by the store every day on the way home and you’re beginning to think that the employees believe you’re crazy.

But, in all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. After all, no one could resist the taste of your cooking and baking.

So here you were, moving up and down the seemingly endless aisles of the store on a mission to locate cream of tartar for your meringue cookies. 

It was odd because you’d usually find the powder alongside the sugars and spices in a bag or container like salt and pepper. Today, it was nowhere to be found, not even the price tag stuck to the shelves that indicated that it was there, just not in stock.

You sigh and slowly make your way down the aisles, laying your eye on every single item sitting on the shelves. Other customers looked at you like you were crazy, occasionally stretching your neck or lowering yourself into a squatting position just to view the bottom shelves. But at this point, you honestly could not give two shits if you looked looney.

“Did you lose something?” A pair of feet appear in front of you in the middle of your squat. You freeze and look up to see an employee looking down at you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, “I’ve seen you go up and down the store like… a lot of times.” 

Your eyes widen and laugh sheepishly. Standing up, you shake your head, “Um, actually I was looking for the cream of tartar! I can’t… seem to find it.”

“In the cereal section?” 

Now that you’re up and standing, you get a better look of the worker in front of you and you recognize him as one of the newer employees of the store. You can only say this with full confidence because you’ve been acquainted with a majority of the staff and most, if not, all were older than forty. This employee, you would say, was around your age. You take a quick glance at his name tag and read it. 

Donghyuck.

“You never know!” You laugh again, this time wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole before the (actually really cute) boy could reply to you. How could you embarrass yourself like this?

Donghyuck lets out a short snort, “It’s in aisle six, you know, with the sugars and spices?” 

It takes you a second to realize that you’re currently in aisle 23. “I looked! I swear it wasn’t there!”

He grins, “Then let me take you.” 

The boy begins walking away from you and you trail not too far behind him. If Donghyuck miraculously brings you to the cream of tartar, you’re going to think that the universe is against you.

He walks about three paces in front of you, strides slightly longer than yours. Although you both did not know each other, you found it a bit awkward walking in silence. “Just a random thought but are you a new worker here?”

Donghyuck slows down and turns to look at you, playing off of your question, “What are you, the owner of this place?” 

“No,” You shake your head and laugh, “I just know a lot of the employees here because I go here a lot.” 

“Ah, makes sense,” Donghyuck hums, “I just started working here last week. My grandma works here and I needed extra money so she got me this job.” 

You make a sound of acknowledgment. This time, you decide to joke, “Ohhh, so you’re a nepo baby! So what do you do? Roam the aisles?” 

He gives you a look, but it’s quickly wiped off of his face when he goes to answer you, “I sorta do everything, so if you do go here a lot, you’ll be seeing me everywhere—ah, here we are.” Donghyuck shuffles over to the rows of spices and uses his finger to follow his place. 

“See, it’s not—”

“Found it!” Donghyuck bends down and snatches a bag of cream of tartar. Then, he turns to hand it over to you, the corners of his lips sitting high on his cheeks. 

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to end the interaction.

“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck nods, “Well, it was nice meeting you, loyal customer, but I have to go back to whatever I was doing. I’ll see you around!” Before you even get to bid him goodbye, Donghyuck spins on the balls of his feet and starts making his way back to the last aisles.

You’re left thinking how you actually hope to see more of him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s once in a blue moon that you go to the grocery store for a reason other than ingredients and food. Today, you’re set on finding a plant or two to liven up your apartment. The only problem was you genuinely did not know what plant best suited you and Karina.

You have your phone out, searching up the plant names you can barely read from the name tags. Being that you were in the garden centre of the store, the sun was beating down against your forehead and you’re really wishing that you can find some plants and leave so you can get back to your air-conditioned home. 

Your goal was to find a plant that could thrive without direct sunlight, given that your apartment didn’t receive sunlight all day, and one that might be a bit neglected due to yours and Karina’s busy schedules.

Francee Hosta. You read, a flowering perennial plant. Lavender blooms in the late Summer. Grows tall, 28 inches. Great for landscaping and can fill empty space well. Best in part to full shade.

“Good competitor,” you say under your breath. Mentally, you put a star on the plant and move on, hoping to gather as many options as you can. You’re not even halfway down the entirety of the garden centre so you’re fully confident that you’ll find one, but you just wish that it was actually easier finding the plant you wanted.

You move on, positioning yourself right beside the next plant you intend to research. It resembled a small aloe vera, only each ‘leaf’ was adorned with white stripes. From where you stood, the plant's name tag remained frustratingly out of sight, perched on top of the high racks. 

Letting out a frustrated groan, you stretch yourself as much as you can, reaching for the plant. Balancing on your tippy toes, you strain to touch the pot's glass edge, but it remains just out of your fingertips' reach. 

Before you can fully process the situation, a hand swiftly reaches for the same pot, snatching it away from you, “A zebra plant?”

Falling back on your heels, you turn to find Donghyuck holding the small plant in his hands, “Out of all the plants here, you want a zebra plant?” He holds it out for you to take, which you only do because you’re thrown off by his sudden appearance.

You completely ignore his question and ask him one of your own, “You again?” 

“Like I said, I do a bit of everything,” Donghyuck shrugs, “Wait, but I work here, I should be asking you that question.” 

“I’m trying to look for like two houseplants,” you say, “What’s the problem with zebra plants?” You frown at the poor plant in front of you, getting attacked for absolutely no reason.

“Nothing, there’s just way better ones than it,” Donghyuck snickers. 

You frown, “Well, since you seem to know more about plants than me, can you help me?” You turn to place the plant back. But when Donghyuck notices this, he quickly takes it out of your hands and places it back onto its spot. 

“Of course, of course,” he smiles. And just like a few days before, he starts leading you down the garden centre, eyeing the plants, “Well, what sort of plant are you looking for?”

You explain everything to him, “But I think I prefer smaller plants since my place has limited space.” 

He hums and files through his limited knowledge of plants, “I actually don’t know.”

“I thought you knew things about plants!” Your blink at him, mouth agape, “Why did you even ask me what I was looking for if you didn’t know what I was even talking about?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “I do but because of the tags.” He reaches over and plucks out the name tags you’ve been using to do research on. Then he flips it around revealing a bulleted list of the plant’s features, “I was going to help you look for one.” 

How the hell did you not see the list in the first place?

“What the fuck,” you say, “That’s been there this whole time?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t been using these to pick the plants out!?” Donghyuck sucks his teeth and shakes his head as if he was disappointed in you. 

You defend yourself, huffing, “To be fair they’re not as visible as they should be.”

Donghyuck hums, “The more you know. How ‘bout I start over there and you continue from where I found you and we meet in the middle?”

You nod, “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you take about half an hour looking for plants, taking the job more seriously than it actually was. You could already predict that one out of the two plants may possibly be dead in two weeks, but it’s the thought that counts. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck approaches you with a plant in hand. Its leaves spill out of the pot, connected to the long, growing stems, “I think this one would be pretty. It’s one of those plants you can hang from the ceilings and it matches what you’re looking for.” 

You take the plant from him and hold it up, taking in its appearance, “I actually like it. I’ll take this one.” 

He nods and takes it back, “Did you find one?” 

You nod, too, showing him the plant you had chosen but sat on a nearby platform, “It looks like an average plant but it should do. Thanks for the help by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” Donghyuck shrugs, “This is the most boring position yet.”

The two of you start walking toward the entrance back into the actual store, passing by other customers, “Really? How many other positions have you worked?”

“This and the one from the other day,” Donghyuck snorts.

You’re genuinely surprised with how well you and Donghyuck can converse despite only meeting once before this. But you like to think it’s a skill you picked up from speaking to the other workers, “You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not,” he shakes his head, “Boring-est so far.” 

Once you two reach the entrance, he halts, “I’ll see you around?” Donghyuck realizes he’s still holding one of your plants and he gingerly hands it over to you. 

“You know it.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Karina’s grip around your wrist is so tight that you feel the circulation failing to reach your fingertips. She’s dragging you down the sidewalk, walking at pace way too fast from your usual, “I promise you I’ll be quick. You can just sit at those benches at the front if you want.”

You groan, taking into account the fact that Karina’s begged one too many times to go to the grocery store with her, “Fine. But if you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving.” You can’t say no to your best friend completely, not when you know that her time of month’s coming up and she needs to stock up for her cravings and toiletries. 

“Wait, no! I need you to help me carry stuff,” Karina pouts. You both reach the front entrance and now she’s stopped, not ready to go in until she’s satisfied with a plan. 

You sigh, but in a loving way, almost as if you were a mom giving in to her kid’s wants, “Fine. I’ll wait for you.”

She lights up and claps, “Great! Okay you can sit and just wait until I’m about to go for cash.”

You nod, watching her jog in and leaving you to dawdle in not long after. 

“Hello! Good afternoon!”

It was almost a jumpscare hearing that voice, not expecting it to be the first thing you would encounter walking in. Usually the greeter was an older man who was working part-time despite retiring from his old job, but today, it was the very same boy you’ve run into during your two previous visits.

“A greeter?” You snort. 

Donghyuck puts his arms up in defense, “I told you I did everything.”

“Yeah but I didn’t think greeter would be part of that list.” Suddenly, you forget about your desire to sit at the metal bench by the bathrooms.

“Me neither, but here I am,” he shrugs, “What are you doing here?” The question was odd because it’s one you wouldn’t normally ask customers at a supermarket, but Donghyuck thinks it’s perfectly okay to ask you the question because it was your third time that week going to the store.

“My roommate needs things,” you say simply, “Is this position better than the plants?”

“I get to stand here and do basically nothing,” Donghyuck nods, eyes widening, “I get why Mr. June likes it.” 

“Where is he anyway?” You question.

Shrugging, Donghyuck leans against the high counter he was standing behind, “Personal day or something? I’m not too sure.” 

You hum, “Well at least he’s getting the break he needs.”

There’s a brief silence before Donghyuck gasps, brows escalating to the top of his forehead, “I just remembered!”

“Remembered what?” You don’t recall anything that you and Donghyuck have spoken about. 

“This is… weird? But I’ve never asked you for your name,” Donghyuck points out. It’s just now that you realized that he actually hasn’t asked for your name. You both just started speaking to each other as if you knew each other, so introducing yourself never even crossed your mind, “I mean… I think you know mine because of my name tag, but I don’t know yours.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “What if this is some ploy for you to stalk me?” You playfully take a step back and eye him down, “And what if your name isn’t really Donghyuck?”

“I’m not gonna stalk you,” Donghyuck he whines, “And my name really is Donghyuck! You can ask my grandma!”

You let out a laugh and sigh, “I know, I was joking. My name’s Y/N.” 

Before Donghyuck can process everything, he gasps, “Are you the Y/N grandma talks about?” He brings his hand up to his head and runs his hand through his hair, “The Y/N that had to bake for practically an entire village of people?”

“So your Grandma is Mrs. Lee?” You don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that your heart warms up at the fact that Donghyuck was related to Mrs. Lee, who was probably the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. 

You think it was good because Donghyuck seemed to be close to his grandma, enough for her to get him a job and enough for him to know stories from work—it could really reflect the kind of person Donghyuck was. But now, thinking it through, it could be bad because there was no way you were developing a small crush on a boy you’ve only met twice before today. 

“That’s her,” He nods and allows for a child-like smile to surface on his face, “She’s the best right?”

You almost let out an audible ‘aww’ because of the way you can tell that he was probably a grandma’s boy. You nod, “She is. I should’ve put two and two together.”

His head tilts to the side, “What do you mean?”

“When she’s on cash, she talks about her grandson being a ray of sunshine,” you say. For some reason you suddenly feel shy as you speak to Donghyuck, “She says ‘I just know Hyuckie is going to be such a great man one day!’ I don’t know why it didn’t click that Hyuckie comes from Donghyuck.” 

Donghyuck blushes at the nickname, attempting to use his bangs to hide, “So she talks about me too?” You nod. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“She hasn’t said anything super embarrassing,” you tease, “The worst one was probably how you were in a rush to get home after an exam just to play video games and you cried cause you broke you broke your pinky. I found it funny but it wasn’t too bad.” 

Donghyuck’s jaw drops in the slightest, “She told you about that?” 

You nod and giggle, “Can I see your pinky?”

“Sorry I don’t usually show it on first dates,” Donghyuck peeks at you at the corner of his eyes and smirks. 

You facepalm, “That sounds so wrong.” You want to laugh but you hold it back, not wanting to give Donghyuck the satisfaction.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you doing your job?” From your right, the voice of Mrs. Lee calls out to her grandson, a delightful blend of playfulness and a touch of seriousness. 

Following the direction, you greet Mrs. Lee with a bow, waving at her before turning back to Donghyuck with hands to your hips, “Yeah, Donghyuck, are you doing your job?”

“Y/N’s distracting me!” He responds in a childlike manner, and Mrs. Lee simply shakes her head in response, a faint smile gracing her lips. As she turns away, you spot Karina waddling down from a cash register with four bags filled to the brim with different things. 

“Y/N!” She calls. She uses her head to gesture to the bags. By this time, she’s standing by the exit, setting two bags down at her feet for you to carry. 

“I have to go,” you say to Donghyuck, “I’ll probably see you the next time I come here, right?”

He nods, “It’s likely.”

“Well, see you Donghyuck!” you turn and wave, “Or should I say, Hyuckie.”

Rolling his eyes, he waves back before quickly flipping you off, but instead of his middle finger, it’s his pinky. You respond with a good-natured shake of your head, gathering the bags in front of you. With a nod to Karina, the two of you make your way out, leaving the lighthearted scene behind. 

“Bye, Y/N.” 

It’s good to finally have a name to your face.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

True to Karina’s suspicions, her period started the day after her cravings. 

And when Karina gets her period, she gets sick. And when she gets sick, you take this as your cue to go to the grocery store to gather ingredients for the special stomach-hugging soup your mom taught you to cook growing up. It was something that you both looked forward to every month despite Karina not being at her best condition.

The produce today wasn’t up to par as it usually was. All were stacked rather messily, making it difficult for you to filter through the veggies. You’re only surprised because in the amount of times you’ve gone to the supermarket, there has not been one day that it organized this poorly. 

“This is like your… fourth time in the last ten days or something?” The voice sounds from behind you, “Just tell me you miss me and go.” 

You turn to see Donghyuck with a cart of banana-filled boxes and it all suddenly makes sense to you, “Why would I miss you?” You turn your attention back to the bok choy sitting to your right and rummage through the pre-filled bags.

“It happens more than you think,” he shrugs, “Reason this time?”

You find a bag that seems pretty good and you plop it into your basket, “My roommate’s sick so I’m making her soup.” 

“Mmm,” Donghyuck hums, “The weather lately has been making me crave hot pot, so soup sounds so good right now.”

“Now you’re making me crave it,” You feel your mouth water at the thought of hot pot on this cool, rainy afternoon and sigh, “But I think my soup’s better than hot pot. Any. Day.”

He scoffs, “I don’t believe you. Nothing can beat hot pot nowadays. Not even kimchi jjigae.” Donghyuck pushes and pulls at the banana cart as if it were a baby in a stroller, “Thank you.”

Your brows furrow, “For what?”

“Now I know what I’m eating for dinner later.” His grin forms a taut line, “Hot pot.” 

You begin making your way to the potatoes, grabbing those thin plastic bags on the way. To your surprise, Donghyuck follows you. You look at him, “Are you sure you aren’t the one who misses me?” “You wish,” he laughs, “I just need to stand still just for one minute at least. Produce clerk has to be the worst. But I do like talking to you.” Donghyuck shifts back and forth on his feet, “Anyway, what is this soup you’re making?” “See you do miss me!” You pick out three decently-sized potatoes and gently drop them into your bag, “It’s a family recipe and it doesn’t really have a name to it. We just call it stomach-hugging soup.”

“There’s a clear difference between me missing you and me liking talking to you,” Donghyuck grumbles, “We barely know each other but it’s just so easy talking to you. That’s why.” The way he nonchalantly says this takes you aback but you try to play it off, this time moving on to some nearby taro roots. 

“Whatever you say, Hyuckie,” you retort. Though he was right. It’s never been this easy for you to talk to someone, better yet, a boy. 

“Hey! That nickname is reserved for special people only!” 

“I’m a special person, aren’t I?” you joke, but quickly wave it off, “Don’t worry, I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” 

Repeating your steps from both the bok choy and the potatoes, Donghyuck watches you quietly with a smile that’s so gentle that it would lull a newborn to sleep. You don’t notice this, though, because your mind is distracted by how ungodly big the taro roots are.

“I need to… get back to stacking these bananas but,” Donghycuk gulps, “It would be cool if I could taste this special soup one day.”

You turn to him, and smile, eyes bright at the idea, “Of course. One day.”

He waves and saunters down toward the front of the produce section.

Once he’s gone, you try to make sense as to what Donghyuck was trying to imply. Friends outside of this weird new relationship you both have? Something more than that? You’re not too sure of anything and there was no way you were jumping to conclusions.

Before your thoughts start to eat at you, you shake your head to rid of them all, and along with it, the idea of the small lingering crush (that’s truly starting to develop) on this boy.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It isn’t until one week later that you return to the supermarket. The reason this time was that you and Karina were truly out of groceries for once (which honestly was not surprising). 

It would be a terrible lie if you said you hadn’t thought of Donghyuck at least once within the last week, wondering how he was doing while constantly being put into different positions at work. You hoped that he wasn’t put onto the floor as a produce clerk like he had been the last time you saw him, both for his sake and for the sake of the store. 

It was late at night when you finally found the time to visit the store, much later than your usual trips. By this hour, the store had bid farewell to the bustling moms and their screaming children, leaving only adults who had dropped by after school or work, much like yourself.

It would also be a terrible lie if you said you weren’t wondering if Donghyuck was here today. 

You grab a rolling basket on the way in, greeting Mr. June when you pass him at the front. You go down the store aisle by aisle while grabbing everything you’ve listed down in your mental list. Occasionally, you brought your phone out to look if you’ve missed any of Karina needed, a screenshot of her text appearing last in your photos. 

You spend an hour or two going through the list, part of which was you comparing two different products to see which one would help you save money. 

Your third terrible lie of the night would be if you said you weren’t jerking your head toward any other person who entered the aisle hoping it would be Donghyuck. 

It was so stupid because this very boy only found out what your name was not too long ago. You’ve only met this boy four other times. And you barely knew anything about him except for the small tidbits you picked up through conversations with him or with Mrs. Lee. 

And this leads you to your fourth (and hopefully, last) terrible lie of the night—that you weren’t disappointed when you didn’t run into Donghyuck during your time at the store. 

You sigh as you load your things onto the conveyor belt, sorting them with pairs or other like things so it would be easier for you to carry everything. In your head, you’re already planning out how you were supposed to carry everything on your own. You’ve done it before, so you can (while harnessing the power of the universe) do it again. 

“This is a lot of stuff.”

You freeze at the voice and you finally look up, finding that Donghyuck was, in fact, your cashier. 

He immediately reads the shock in your facial expression and snorts, “Everything, remember? How’s your night doing?” Donghyuck starts scanning your items, sliding them from one side to the other.

You shrug, “Tiring… Do your shifts usually go ‘til this hour?” 

Donghyuck shakes his head, “Not typically, but I’m filling in for someone today. One of the other employees got sick so I stepped up like the good person I am.” He flashes a proud expression, and you can't help but chuckle at his confidence, “Anyways, where do you live?”

“What?” you laugh nervously, “I swear you suck at hiding your intentions of stalking me.” 

Donghyuck quickly takes back his question, realizing that he worded it all wrong and it being taken out of context was not good look at all. “No no! It’s not that, but…” How can he put this in a non-stalkery way? “My shift is almost done… you have a lot of things to carry… I would like to walk you home?” He cringes at the way it comes out as a question but it’s too late now. 

“Okay, if you’re not going to stalk me,” you think, “What if you kidnap me?”

"I promise, no kidnapping plans here," Donghyuck replies with a playful grin. "I'm a certified good guy, I swear!" Unbeknownst to you, he intentionally slows down his scanning, making sure that he has more time to chat with you (just in case you didn’t agree to his proposal). It's been a week since he last saw you, and this supermarket seems to be the only place where you both get a chance to talk. Besides, there was no one else in line.

There’s this very feeling in your chest that’s practically yelling at you to trust him, so you do, “It’s about two blocks down. It’s not too far, it’s a good eight minute walk.”

“I’ll meet you at the front then?” 

Not even ten minutes later, Donghyuck meets you right where he suggested. He isn’t wearing the vest the employees wore as uniforms. Instead, he’s thrown on a dark hoodie. He picks up your bags, “Let me take those for you~” 

“Didn’t see you coming,” you say, “I can carry one, you know.” You can't deny feeling a hint of nervousness. This marked the first time you were going to interact with Donghyuck beyond the supermarket setting. It's hard not to wonder if your dynamic is shifting from a mere employee-customer relationship to something more meaningful—even if it was just a friendship.

“It’s okay, I insist,” Donghyuck smiles, “Let’s go! Lead the way.”

You stand up and you lead him out the door. You begin taking your route home and Donghyuck quickens his steps to keep up with you, “So, what you’ve been up to the past week?”

A pleasant breeze blows past you both and you turn your head to reply to him just as you’re stopped at a red light, “I’ve just been busy with school and some other responsibilities. I only found time to go to the store after school today.”

“Ah, your load must be heavier than mine,” Donghyuck makes a sound of recognition, “I only have morning classes and then I’m free for the day.” 

“You’re lucky,” you laugh, “Mine usually runs the whole day because my faculty’s suckass at scheduling… but it is what it is, I guess.”

The light switches and you’re both allowed to cross. There are only a few cars waiting to go, which emphasizes how late in the night it actually is. “Well at least you’re holding up,” Donghyuck grins, “You still have time for cooking and what not.”

You nod, “That’s true, you’re right.” 

The conversation between you two unfolds with familiar ease, similar to your convos at the supermarket. Donghyuck brings up Mrs. Lee, questioning about how you came to know his grandmother. You share your story with him, detailing the moments and conversations that led to your connection.

“Are you close with your grandma?” You ask out of curiosity.

“She practically raised me because my parents were mostly out at work,” Donghyuck explains, “Now that she’s a little bit older, I still go over to her place and help around the house. She’s at retirement age, but she likes being busy. So I let her be busy at work and tell her to relax when she’s at home.”

Your heart swells at Donghyuck’s relationship with Mrs. Lee and a slight surge of emotion wells up within you. It really wasn’t helping with the crush you were trying to conceal, not when Donghyuck seemed like a genuinely great guy. 

“I think that’s really sweet of you.” You feel the corners of your mouth rise to your cheekbones, “I bet she appreciates it. She seems to really love you, so there’s no doubt that she does.” 

You finally reach your place and Donghyuck realizes this when you slow to a halt. He can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that your place isn't farther from the store. Nevertheless, he holds onto the hope that he'll have more opportunities to walk you home in the future. 

You retrieve your bags from his hands and you don’t notice the way his breath hitches at your proximity. “Thanks for walking me home and carrying my bags. Are you fine getting home?” 

Donghyuck nods, “I actually live pretty close, believe it or not, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you around?” It seems like this was something you’ve been saying to each other a lot.

“Of course and thank you again,” you say, “Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

As you begin to turn away, Donghyuck's gaze lingers on you. Despite it not being your last encounter with him, in that moment, a sense of urgency washes over him, realizing that this might be a pivotal moment. It feels like this decision could only be made now or never.

“Wait!” He calls out. It comes out embarrassingly louder than intended. He swears he could hear his voice echo down the street. 

You pause and turn to face Donghyuck, looking back at him curiously, "Yeah?" There are so many thoughts running through your head, only you couldn’t pick them out for the life of you. 

Donghyuck starts jogging to catch up with you, his footsteps rhythmically hitting the pavement. "I... actually have a question," he says, his voice slightly breathless. "It's been on my mind for the past week."

You meet his gaze with an expectant look, raising your eyebrows and giving a nod, encouraging him to continue.

“This sounds weird but,” his palm finds the nape of his neck and he’s suddenly (extremely) nervous to even be standing in front of you, “I think I like you… and I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date some…time? It’s okay if no, but I just figured that since we get along well that it was worth try—”

“I would love to.” 

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” you retort, giggling under your breath, “I’m actually kinda relieved you made the first move.”

A rush of excitement surges through Donghyuck, and he's almost overwhelmed with the urge to jump for joy, “I’ll plan something out and let you know, if that’s okay? I didn’t think I would actually get this far.” He feels his cheeks heat up out of embarrassment.

“Take your time,” you snort, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Okay! I promise you I will not disappoint!” he exclaims, “Goodnight, Y/N. For real this time.” 

You offer a wordless response, shuffling closer to Donghyuck before rising onto your toes to plant a gentle peck on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

(And you best know Donghyuck went home that night skipping, excited to tell his grandma everything the next day.) 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you for reading! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Pls support my fic by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!)

[suashii]

— 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 (𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓉?) ౨ৎ

geto suguru x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ smut (nsfw, MDNI) ﾉ college au ﾉ fuckboy!geto ﾉ fingering ﾉ petnames ("baby" + "good girl") ﾉ geto is a little mean :3 ﾉ degradation if u squint

your life has changed a lot in the past few months and, strangely enough, it’s not because you’re entering a new phase of it. it’s because you’ve met a new person. a dorm room that isn’t yours has become like a second home to you and a man that you can’t be sure feels the same has all but stolen your heart.

to be lovesick is absolutely humiliating.

you think that much as you lay on geto suguru’s bed. he sits at his desk and you watch as nimble fingers fly across the keyboard of his phone. other than the light hum of music playing from his speaker—so low that you can’t even make out the lyrics—the room is uncomfortably quiet. you speak up to break the silence. “who are you texting?”

“why do you want to know?” he asks, eyes flitting up for just a moment, a short second, to look at you. you hate when people do that—answer a question with another question, but the usual annoyance that causes you to roll your eyes is nowhere to be found in this case. looks like geto is an exception.

he shouldn’t be.

in an attempt to downplay your pestering, you simply shrug. “i’m naturally curious, i suppose.”

suguru clicks his phone off and carelessly slides it across his desk. for the first time since you got here, you feel like you have his undivided attention. you smile at that but the grin on geto’s lips should be enough to warn you that something less pleasant than his attentiveness is coming. “more like naturally nosy.”

you scoff and then pout at his comment, rolling onto your back and focusing your eyes on the ceiling instead of facing him. is it not perfectly reasonable to want to know who’s occupying the attention of the guy who invited you over? you don’t think so but you also know that you selfishly want to be the only thing—the only person—geto is concerned with.

he chuckles and despite it being at your expense, the sound makes your heart flutter in your chest. geto has an effect on you that you can’t really describe, one that makes you just as bothered as it does excited. any flicker of annoyance that sparks within you goes as quickly as it comes and is replaced by a much longer-lasting feeling of longing—yearning.

from the corner of your eye, you can see geto moving. you can feel him, his warmth, getting closer, too. you feign disinterest and indifference by keeping your gaze glued upwards. although, his next words make your ears perk up. “do you really want to know?”

against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at suguru. he’s leaning in his desk chair, one arm thrown over the back of it and legs spread wider than they should be. dark strands of hair spill from the loose bun situated on the back of his head and frame the smooth skin of his face. obsidian eyes bore into you and the grin from earlier is still tugging at his lips. it’s playful but you don’t feel like you’re in on whatever he’s got planned.

still, they don’t say curiosity killed the cat for nothing.

“yeah, i do.”

reaching behind him, geto pulls the elastic out of his hair, letting it fall over his shoulders. you try to ignore the urge to run your fingers through it. as he gathers the silky strands in his hands to tie it up more neatly, he tells you, “it was a girl from my psychology class. she invited me to a party tonight.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything impulsive, but the thoughts cloud your mind, nevertheless. why would you tell me that? are you trying to make me jealous? how can you so easily hurt my feelings with a smile on your face?

you’re able to pick out one thought from the rest that doesn’t make you seem envious beyond reason or shine a spotlight on your heartache. “are you gonna go?”

he hums and shrugs. “i’m not sure.”

disappointment fills your chest with his answer but you try not to let it show on your face. you can feel sorry for yourself in silence—geto doesn’t need to pity you, though, you’re not even sure that he would.

but, as you look at him from your place on his bed, you can’t help but think he looks unsatisfied by your lack of reaction. the grin pulling at his lips looks more lazy, like the corners had slowly fallen since he spoke last. “what do you think; should i go?”

you want to tell him no, that he shouldn’t go, that he should spend the night here with you like he’d intended to and not ditch you for some girl that butted in on your plans. but the words are stuck in your throat, an uncomfortable lump that you can’t seem to get out.

“if you want me to stay here with you, then tell me.” his words are almost sweet, encouraging, before the next part. “because if you don’t, i’m leaving.”

you've done a pretty good job of concealing your emotions up until now but you can’t stop the frown that takes over your face as you sit up—the way the corners of your lips tilt down and how your eyebrows scrunch together. “no! i don’t want you to go.”

the thought of some other girl cozying up to suguru  creates a flurry of emotions within you—jealousy, anger, insecurity. just imagining someone else on his lap, someone else playing with his hair, someone else kissing him makes you sick. you can’t hide how that affects you no matter how hard you try.

it seems as though your mini-outburst is exactly what geto was looking for. something about the way you’re wrapped around his finger floods the man with a sense of accomplishment. you’re practically putty in his hands—his to shape and mold. and he likes it. he likes it a lot.

“oh?” he can’t stop the way the corners of his lips turn up. he leans forward the slightest bit but the short distance brings him closer to you. “why don’t you show me how much you want me to stay?”

your tongue pokes out to wet your lips and the little motion catches geto’s attention. the obsidian shards that are his eyes follow the glistening stripe your tongue leaves behind before flitting up to meet your gaze. there’s expectation swimming in the dark irises. that and the fear of the man standing up and walking out the door urge you forward.

his lips against yours are soft, pillowy, like a marshmallow and his breath is minty. the two make for an intoxicating mixture and, suddenly, you can’t get enough of him. a whiny whimper of yours sounds throughout the quiet air of the dorm and the noise, as indistinct as it is, seems to convey every bit of your need to geto.

and he’s more than willing to give.

a hand makes its way to your neck, fingers tipping your head back and firmly holding you in place as suguru deepens the kiss. your tongues meet in a messy, passionate dance and it almost feels like you don’t need to come up for air—his kiss is all the oxygen you need. at least, that’s what you think.

by the time you pull away, your lips are tingling and the taste of the man lingers.

“that’s all?” his eyebrow quirks with his question. “with the way you were pouting earlier, i thought you really wanted me to stick around.”

“i do,” you tell him, trying to keep the neediness out of your voice. that part is easier said than done. the way he’s staring you down with such intense anticipation makes you eager to please and turns you on more than you’d like to admit.

you rub your thighs together in an attempt to grant yourself some relief. the movement isn’t as subtle as you think or geto is more observant than you’d ever realized because his eyes drift down to your legs, curiosity—or maybe enthusiasm—glimmering in them.

and it takes almost no time at all for his hands to rest on your knees. they’re cool to the touch and your skin beneath them erupts with goosebumps at the contact. his palms make their way up your legs, over your thighs, and under the fabric of your skirt agonizingly slowly. you’re growing warmer by the second and it feels like you’re on fire by the time his fingers finally graze the lace of your underwear.

it’s a struggle not to squirm with his hands so close—mere centimeters away from where you desperately want him. the pad of his thumb runs over the trim of your panties, so slowly that you’re sure he’s teasing you on purpose. still, you keep any sounds of protest from bubbling up your throat in concern that your impatience will only come to your detriment.

your choice to stay quiet for the time being is rewarded when geto’s thumb ghosts over your clit. it hovers for a moment before pushing against the sensitive pearl, drawing a sharp gasp from your chest. it’s only now that you realize your panties are practically sticking to you.

“now this is convincing.” you wouldn’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s smiling—you can hear it in his voice. his gaze flicks up to you with his next words. “are you this wet from one little kiss, baby?”

your head moves up and down in a bashful nod. that earns a laugh from geto, a small one that he breathes out through his nose. you don’t have time to pout at him before all of your focus turns to the way his thumb begins to circle against your clit. you have to try twice as hard to concentrate on any of his questions. “is this why you wanted me to stay? so i could touch you? so i could fuck you with my fingers?”

it feels embarrassing—shameful—to say yes. and, beyond how heavenly his hands feel on you, what you really wanted, more than anything, was for him to choose you.

“tell me.” his thumb slows. “if you don’t, i’ll stop.”

your heart jumps at that and your answer comes soon after. “i want you to touch me. i want you to make me come.”

geto’s lips stretch into a smile. “good girl.”

deft fingers hook your panties to move them to the side. the air that meets your wetness makes you suck in a breath that you nearly choke on when those very same fingers start gliding between your folds. they work at spreading and collecting your essence, all while his thumb continues to swirl the sensitive nub.

your soft moans are music to geto’s ears but he can’t help but want more, can’t help but want you louder. he bites back a grin as his middle finger probes at your hole, teases your opening. his eyes flit up to read your reaction and he takes note of the way your eyes ever so slightly widen as he slowly pushes into you.

geto lets out a breath before letting himself smile. “this pretty pussy stretches so good for me, yeah?”

it’s always a surprise just how filling one of his fingers is—how much one of his fingers can set your nerves ablaze. and maybe you should be embarrassed at how little it takes—a finger and some dirty talk—for pleasure to build in your abdomen, for heat to pool in your cheeks, but the bliss outweighs any shame buzzing within you.

“feels s’good,” you tell him, the statement punctuated by a whimper. the words come out slurred, the spit pooling in your mouth meshing them together.

your declaration is all the motivation geto needs to continue plunging his finger in and out of you, to keep circling your swollen clit. his hunger grows with your pleasure and the man is beginning to think that he wants you to orgasm as much as you do. he licks his lips before letting another finger delve between your folds.

the invasion makes your eyes squeeze shut and your lips fall apart. despite the hint of pain, once you’ve adjusted to the newfound fullness, the addition is all the more satisfying. the way his knuckles graze against your walls and the way the pads of his fingers curl up and push against the spongy spot that fuels the fire within you bring you all the closer to your precipice. you’re practically writhing on his fingers in only a matter of minutes and all it takes to snap the tension and push you over the edge is the harsh feel of geto’s thumb flicking over your clit

you come undone on his fingers, crying out his name without a care as to who can hear on the other side of the thin walls of his dorm. the only thing you’re concerned with at the moment is how geto works you down from your high, lets his fingers leisurely pump in and out of you.

he takes note of how pretty you look with a sheen of sweat glazed over your face and how you can’t seem to control just how shaky your thighs are. you really are fun to play with. 

and, luckily for you, you’ve done a good job of convincing him to stay.

as geto finally pulls his fingers out from you, he reaches for the buckle of his belt with his other hand. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “should i fuck you for real now?”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, pls consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[deerlottie]

can i get some mean girl lottie headcanons plz and thank you

typical mean girl x loser reader scenario me thinks...

she would Actually bully you during classes. she's 'forced' (even tho she picked the seat >_>) to sit next to you during the class you share and she would huff and puff and annoy the shit out of you

accidentally kicking your shins, stealing ur pens when you leave to go to the restroom, whispering how stupid you are when it takes you a second longer to answer a question...

but dont think you dont notice how she stares at you when she thinks you're not looking...biting her lip while she's eyeing your body, pretending to pay attention to the projector when she's just staring at the back of your head.

she starts to pay A LOT more attention to you when one of her rich snobby friends confesses that they have a crush on you.

"idk lottie, we got partnered up in science class and they were really nice. and they smell so good...not better than you of course but..."

so of course she has to sabotage this. and what better way than to pretend to be interested in you so her friend will back off and stop talking about you?

she starts being way nicer and doing that thing with her hands where she trails them down your arm while asking if you have any plans after school.

she starts to realize you do smell good, and she enjoys hanging out with you and thinks she must be going crazy. she blurts out that she does like you but she doesnt want her image to be ruined >_>

coming up with a routine where shes her usual mean self at school but a softie when you go over to her huge ass house :3

but maybe you have a thing for her being mean to you :/ who wouldnt tbh...esp when she pushes you around in the halls or bumps shoulders with you in the cafeteria and makes you spill ur lunch.

because you know she's making it up to you in an empty closet not even an hour later by giving you the best head ever :P

would spoil you but be kinda rude about it 😭 "don't worry baby, i'll pay for it. i know you can't afford it." and it was a $2.75 bottle of coke LMAO

SWITCH ALERT!!!!!!!!

lovelovelove the idea of mean girl lottie being the biggest sub in private but controlling in public :3

yelling at you for getting in her way while walking and calling you an asshole but when you get home, she's begging for you to touch her :/

bondage with her to teach her a lesson for being such a brat that day 😇 she embarrassed you too much so now you have to gag her mouth and spank her ass until you can see her precum drooling down her pussy

but mean lottieeeee @___@

calling u names and degrading u for getting off on how rough she is with you. "you like when i push you around in public, you fucking slut? does it turn you on when i act like you're nothing more than an object for me to use and abuse?"

master at edging you.. it'll be hour THREE and she's just chilling reading her magazines while a vibe is shoved in ur pussy

I NEED HER SO BAD

[narcissistshandler]

can u write a top male reader who is their stepbrother or brother (idk your choice I am okay with any bcuz of lacking) with itoshi brothers. there were a lot of fem readers with it but no make readers so I am sad 😢

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿. itoshi sae x m!reader x itoshi rin

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. top!reader, amab reader, bottom!sae, bottom!rin, use of the word "ni-chan", incest, anal sex, blowjob, masturbation, threesome. minors dni.

𝗮/𝗻. yes I can! I'm happy to help the number of male!reader grow in the blue lock fandom. and thank you all for your kind words, I know life doesn't stop and I'm trying to find a way to deal with my loss. This turned out to be longer than planned, but I hope you like it.

Sae and Rin have always been attached to you, following you around, wanting your attention, drowning in every display of affection. Over time, your younger sibling duo stopped working together to be good to you, and as their relationship deteriorated, Sae and Rin began to compete for your attention, silently fighting each other for you, for your love. It started discreetly; Sae would bring you to one of his matches, and once at home Rin would pull you to his room, trying to entertain you with a movie or conversation. Rin would give you your favorite foods from his plate and Sae would surprise you by making your favorite dish for lunch. Innocent, pure. Then it got worse. Rin would give you a hug whenever he could and Sae would give you a kiss. Touches increased as their competition got worse and you didn't had much time to question when one of your younger siblings wanted to sneak up on your lap or sleep in your bed for the night.

One day, a jealous Rin had pulled you away from Sae's arms who was trying to take you to his room and surprising the three of you, slammed his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. Sae was the one who separated you two. You expected a rant or a sharp line of how disgusting and wrong that was, instead you were greeted by another kiss, this time Sae thrusting his tongue into your mouth, despite Rin's saliva still wetting your lips. That's when you realized that in addition to football, it was for you that the two competed.

A part of your brain reminded you that these were your brothers and you should push them away and talk some sense into their heads. The other part reminded you that those were your brothers and that was nothing more than their way of showing how much they loved you. You just didn't expect that letting the kiss go and acting like it was something normal would only make things escalate, and not only that, that you would like this new face of your relationship so much.

Kissing became a routine and Rin and Sae pressed their lips to yours whenever they could. They didn't do it in front of people who knew about your parentage and that's how you knew they knew what they were doing. Kisses became touches; hands on your arms, on your legs, then one of your brothers always invading your shower, not ashamed to see you naked and eventually, erections became common whenever something like that happened. You couldn't help it, Rin and Sae were both attractive and there was something hot about them wanting to be as intimate with you as possible.

In a way, it was your fault that your relationship became what it is today. You were the one who got instantly hard when Sae snuck into your bed one night, body warm against yours and smooth legs exposed by shorts finding a place between yours. You were the one who made it clear that you were awake, putting your arm around Sae's slim waist and pulling him closer. You were the one who asked him to kiss you, teeth and tongues, knowing he would never refuse. And when your bodies got hot and bothered, erections pressed together and breaths muffled, you were the one who asked permission to take off his shorts and touched your little brother's hard, wet cock. The moan Sae let out was sinful, cock twitching against your hand, killing the conscience in your head, you brought his hand to your erection and taught him how to jerk you off and didn't stop moving until the mixed semen was staining the sheets.

You were also the one who surprised Rin after a game won by dropping to your knees on his bedroom floor and giving him his first blowjob. Rin had made the most beautiful noises, legs shaking as he tried to stay on his feet, gripping your shoulders as rocked his hips nonstop, coming embarrassingly fast. And on Sae's birthday it was yours idea to give a present that no one else would be able to and after showering him with words of love and sweet kisses, stretched him leisurely and under the bright stars in the night sky, slid your cock inside him through the first time. A year later it was Rin's turn and you made love to him as slow and smooth as you had with Sae.

They competed for you yes, but you found it was easy to get them to get along with you among them, they didn't want to make you unhappy.

"[name]... focus." Sae's voice snapped you out of your stupor. Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the image in front of you, regaining your grip on Rin's slim waist. Rin was lying beautifully on his back to you, back flushed and making muffled noises of pleasure every time your cock returned inside him. Sae was leaning against the headboard, naked, playing with his nipples with the right hand, the left tangled in Rin's hair as fucked his mouth.

"Be careful with him," you warned, hands coming up to caress Rin's pretty back.

Sae scoffed, pushing his hips against Rin's mouth hard just to piss you off. Rin gasped audibly, nails digging hard into Sae's thigh.

"He's not made of glass, he won't break."

You leaned over Rin, the movement made your cock shift inside him, making his thighs tremble against the sheets and you reached for Sae's hand, releasing his grip on Rin's head. Rin immediately caught breath, eyes watering as he let out a low moan, hand gripping your arm resting close to his head as he took a deep breath.

"Don't be a brat with me, Sae."

"Ni-chan," Rin whimpered, voice cracking as you stopped, cock head perfectly grazing his prostate. "Continues."

"One minute, love."

Sae rolled his eyes at this, pulling the hand away, spittle-covered hard cock against his taut stomach, red head spilling pre-cum.

"As soon as I'm done with Rin I'll deal with you. You better get that lube and start stretching your ass if you don't want to get hurt," you spat. "I won't go easy on you."

Returning to your previous position, you turned Rin around before grabbing his lean hips and pushing your cock back inside him, resuming your previous rhythm. Gritting your teeth, you tried to tear your eyes away from Sae's smug expression, struggling not to be too hard on Rin under you. Sae was the one deserving of punishment there, not Rin. Rin only deserved rewards, as the good boy he was. You tried to remember that even as Sae reached for the lube and started to make a show of spreading herself with deft fingers, your cock twitching inside Rin's tight hole.

[genericpuff]

How long do you plan making rekindled? I loved Lo at some point, But now I cant get enough of your version!! And I wanted to know how did you come up with the darker back stories for Rekindled?

I have a semi-detailed skeleton of the plot with basically every story beat planned out, but I can't definitively say how long it will be as I haven't actually scripted every single episode out yet.

Not to mention a lot of the time my scripts will change from their original versions, by the time I get to an episode I've planned ahead for I've either thought of new ways to do it or don't like how it's paced so I change it. Case in point, there was a specific scene I had planned for the next episode and then wound up not liking the pacing because it was too fast so I moved it to several episodes away and restructured everything on the fly, took a whole new text document and scrapping sketches to figure shit out LOL I actually do have up until Episode 70ish scripted out in my documents with like, actual notes and dialogue for each episode, but I already have sooo many of those crossed out now because of how much I've had to tweak and change as time has gone on. This is why I plan ahead well in advance though, so that if I do need to make those changes, I can make them long before the episodes are even due to be drawn (and believe me, they get changed during the sketching phases too LOL).

What I can confirm for certain is that the current 'arc' we're in right now is definitely the bulk of the story. And that's not to say there isn't any content afterwards, more like the pacing just gets completely turned on its head in the last 30-40% of it where shit gets N U T S and just can't go back to the same energy that it was in the beginning. Without spoiling, there's a certain 'turning point' in the plot and everything after it isn't quite as long as the stint of story we're in now. This is mostly because the arc we're currently in is still establishing a bunch of stuff like the Underworld Corp, Persephone's schooling, etc. and once that turning point hits, it's basically all character development and focusing on the consequences of everything setup in the first arc.

I guess if I had to illustrate it, the story progression in the end will look something like this?

It's basically just this slow and chill climb that, once it hits that sharp peak, doesn't ever return to normal levels LMAO So I guess enjoy this part of the story while you can because it's the chillest it'll ever be w(°ｏ°)w And boy, I am EXCITED for that peak, but we have a long way to go before we get there. As for how long, well, I'm hoping I'll be able to have Rekindled's story wrapped up in the next 2 years, tops. Just depends on how the update schedule goes, and assuming the plans I have put down for the plotting don't change in any major way. I don't have as much of the latter half of the story actually scripted out yet so for all I know it could wind up being way longer than anticipated, but right now I have a pretty good sense of how the story beats will play out in relation to each other.

So it's kind of a wait and see thing, at least until I have every episode scripted out, and even then I won't be 100% sure because things are always being tweaked and fixed and changed on the fly! I'm guessing it won't go much longer than 170 episodes, give or take, but that's a very very VERY rough estimate.

Regardless, Rekindled still has a lot more story to tell, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy the ride with me <3

As for the darker backstories, y'all don't even know yet. Like... I've got stuff planned. Stuff that even Banshriek (my BG assistant) doesn't know about. Stuff that I keep buried very deep in Rekindled's episode documents that won't see the light of day until they have to be ripped out of the deep dark trenches of the characters' own buried secrets, and by that point, the toothpaste will be out of the tube, there will be no going back. So, again... enjoy it while it lasts. Because I don't pull my punches. And maybe even you won't be able to look at me the same way again once the final blow has been dealt.

Sleep well.

:)

[bloodynereid]

hey, i loved the fic u wrote for the request i sent, it was absolutely brilliant

i was hoping you could write another where the band finds that karen is dating a female reader and maybe what their reactions would be like?

lol that would be awesome 🫶😋

Radiance

pairing: karen sirko x fem! gf reader

a/n: hii! i absolutely love ur requests. I hope you enjoy this even if it isn't as long as the last fic u requested. karen sirko is the loml and she deserves more fics!!

tw: period typical homophobia mentions (fuck that but it needed to be added cause of ✨plot✨), swearing, kissing, billy being an asshole (as per usual lmao), drinking

description: the band reacts to finding out you're karen's girlfriend and it goes better than expected.

she's so pretty ahhhh... okay moving onto the main story now.

You were standing next to the bar as you listened to your girlfriend’s band with a smile on your face as you took a sip of water. You were here as a surprise since she had been recording for the past week and you had barely seen each other. You were mesmerized by how stunning she looked on that stage. So immersed with music that it seemed like it was her lifeblood.

After a few more of the band's songs, they retired off stage. And you carefully moved through the crowd towards the backstage doors, where already a large amount of groupies were huddled around.

“Hey Mark!

“Y/N I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Just came to see an old friend.”

“Karen is going to be very happy to see you.” He sent you a little wink and a smile as he let you through the doors. The security guard had become a friend of yours after Karen introduced you to him after a show. He may look like a giant but he was truly a teddy bear and… a huge supporter of your relationship with Karen.

“Uh hi?” The frontman of the band, Billy greeted you as you walked through the doors. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was actually just-”

“Y/N!! Oh my god hi!” The familiar British voice echoed through the room making you turn towards your girlfriend as she enveloped you in a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a planning session tonight.”

“They canceled last minute and I wanted to see you.” You let her out of the hug as she slung an arm around you.

“Aww aren’t you a big softie?”

“Well you have been pestering me to come to one of your shows.”

“That I have. Oh right, Y/N meet Billy. Billy meet Y/N, my best friend.” You offered your hand and widened your smile slightly, even as your heart clenched at the mention of ‘best friend’ but it was always better to be safe than sorry. 

“Nice to meet you.” He shook your hand and took a drag of his cigarette before walking off with a grunt.

“Wow he really is as much of an asshole as you said he was.”

“Don’t mind him. Are you ready to go?”

“You aren’t going to stay with the band for a little longer?”

“No, that's okay. How about we go to your house?”

“Sounds like a plan.” You both exited through the back doors and made your way to your red Camaro. Ready to finally spend some time alone with the woman you love.

“Hey where did Karen go off to?” Graham asked as he walked into the back room, only to find the rest of the band (minus Karen) drinking, smoking or writing.

“I don’t know man, she disappeared like 20 minutes ago with this really pretty girl.” Warren said as he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Right. She’s been doing this a lot lately, hasn’t she?”

“Huh?” Warren asked.

“Disappearing off to god knows where.”

“Maybe she got a boyfriend.”

Graham: At the time we had no idea Karen was into girls but there were obvious signs that we were just too stupid to miss.

Camila: Oh I knew of course, I mean I introduced Y/N and Karen in the first place.

Graham: I don’t think we found out until the night of Camila and Billy’s housewarming party.

“Are you sure she wants me to be here?”

“Yes, now shush and help me fix this bloody jacket.” You let out a chuckle as you repositioned the parcels on your arm and carefully lifted Karen’s hair before fixing the jacket.

“Are we the only ones here?”

“Karen! Y/N, you came!”

“That I did.”

“Actually you arriving early is perfect for me. Can you help put some tablecloths outside? You should add some rocks on them so they don’t fly off.”

“No problem, you coming?”

“Be there in a second, love.” Karen smiled and gave a quick peck on the lips before disappearing into the backyard.

“So you two seem to be doing well.” Camila said as she wiggled her eyebrows mischievously.

“Yeah we are. Oh right, I wanted to give you these.” You handed Camila the carefully packaged gifts. She tore through the tissue paper after undoing the ribbon and audibly gasped.

“You didn’t.”

“Well I know you were looking for a perfume and since everything is so expensive these days I called in a favor from a friend.”

“But this is like gold.”

“Yeah well I owe you.”

“Aww Y/N.” She enveloped you in a hug that you quickly reciprocated as Billy walked into the room.

“Hey I can’t find- oh hi.”

“Hi, good to see you again.”

“Yeah sorry about being a bit of an asshole last time.”

“You’re good. I understand how tiring that must have all been.”

“Yeah umm Cami do you know where I can find those streamers?”

“They should be in the kitchen cupboard.”

“Great thank you darling.”

“I can’t believe you got me a Dior perfume!”

“Wait there’s more. I ended up making a few extras of the children’s clothes from my client so I thought I could bring some for Julia. If they don’t fit her I’m sure-” That was before you were engulfed by yet another Camila hug.

“Thank you. God I’m so happy Karen found you.”

“I think that credit all goes to you.”

A few hours later the party was in full swing and you were sitting next to Karen sipping on a beer as you chatted with Warren about some of your favorite designers. The man had great taste in clothes. Sometime during that conversation Karen had slipped an arm around your waist making you lean your head on her shoulder.

Warren: Y/N and Karen? Yeah I don’t remember that party vividly. I don’t know… I think I kind of knew they were together by the way they acted and hey, I wasn’t one to judge. Plus Y/N was great to talk to, we became pretty good friends.

Throughout the course of the night, you both drank very little. So when time came to sit at the piano and sing you were more than happy to observe your incredibly talented girlfriend. You had come to stand next to Cami as she cradled Julia in her arms, trying to get her back to sleep.

“May I hold her for a moment?” She nodded and as the band continued singing you caught Karen’s twinkling eyes as you carefully cradled the little girl in your arms. She sent you a soft smile and scrunched up her nose slightly, which was your little non-verbal signal that meant ‘I love you’. You scrunched your nose back and sent her an air kiss.

As the rest of the guests trickled out you found yourself on the couch with the rest of the band trading stories and anecdotes. You cuddled up next to Karen and Eddie as you animatedly told the story of how you met Karen through Camila, with Karen chiming in at random parts.

“So yeah we kind of kept meeting up a few times after that and suddenly one of those times she kiss- oh fuck.” Even the small amount of alcohol that you had consumed had loosened your tongue to the point where you had just spilled the biggest secret of them all.

“You know we don’t care right? I mean I thought you guys were together ever since I saw you two.” Eddie said from beside you as you readjusted your position.

“Yeah look I have a few friends who also like women. People who care about that shit are idiots and assholes.”

“Here here.” Graham said as he clinked his glass with Daisy, whilst Camila and Billy both just sent you reassuring smiles.

“Plus you both are really hot.”

“Warren!” Everyone exclaimed and Karen sent a pillow to his head.

After a few more minutes of chatting, you and Karen decided to make your way to your car. You opened up the driver's seat and clutched the wheel in anxiousness.

“You’re not mad?” You asked as Karen got in and looked at you quizzically.

“How could I be mad? I have a wonderful girlfriend and now I know how good it feels to say that in the open. I could never be mad at you. I think I love you too much for that, darling.” She swiped away the tears that were starting to form on the corners of your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile.

“I love you so so much.” You answered before gently taking her face in your hands and softly pressing your lips together as the stars twinkled above you and the streetlight shined on your faces.

i really have to write more for Karen this was fun. as always requests are open and if anyone wants to chat feel free to send me a message or an ask ly <3

[gin-juice-tonic]

can i ask how youre able to make so many comics or if you have any tips for aspiring internet funny comic makers? your gag comics are always so creative and funny and well-executed, and your longer form stuff is just a delight to read, i would love to know if u have any advice/insight into yr process

I'm not good at advice so you will have to bear with me here. Also I'm putting it under a readmore cause images make it into a long post. The like first 3/4th of this I talk about specific comics I did, but if you scroll to the end I tried to give some general advice.

My stuff is unfortunately very inspiration-based as opposed to planning-based. So my process might not be helpful if you're looking for something structured... The first thing I should say is I write down basically anything that pops into my head ever. I have a bunch of nonsensical tumblr drafts,

I have stuff in my phones notes app,

I have pages and pages of papers and post-it notes littering my apartment (if you want to know the extent, my sister asked me how I could live with my apartment being so "messy". The only messy thing in it is my papers scattered about). I find the paper stuff the best, because I can draw instead of just writing down concepts.

This is the page I did for the comic about Stan "comforting" Dipper over his unrequited crush on Wendy. (The tumblr version being here)

You will notice aside from the order on the page being strange and some scratched out dialogue, there's not really evidence of a 'plan' here. That's because I was just drawing this as I was thinking it. You will also notice there are two random unrelated Ford drawings in the middle of the page. That's because I was drawing ANYTHING that I was thinking of.

And when I say write down anything, I do mean it. Write down something you did that week, something you remember from when you were 8, something you said out loud and laughed at, things you thought about in the shower, a fact you learned, what your friend had for dinner. See if you can apply it to something. I've mentioned before that this comic only exists because I ran out of toilet paper and went to buy a large bulk pack of it...

When I already have a base idea and just want to expand on it, I usually draw first ask questions later, and things seem to just snowball into being a story. As an example, for the comic I did about Dipper's swimsuit, the base idea was just "Dipper and Stan both wear fully covering swimwear - because they're trans and its what they're comfortable with." But when I went to look up what Dipper wore to the pool, i noticed mabel had a Star one piece suit

Dipper has a star hat in the first episode that he loses, right? SO why don't we give him a matching star one piece that he abandons.

Of course then that single drawing CREATES the story, because we have to explain how he eventually ends up in what he's wearing in the episode. And then I just draw and draw and draw until either the comic ends or I can't continue for whatever reason. The outline for the full thing usually forms while I'm drawing. If I'm worried about forgetting, I'll write down what comes next.

Some of this stuff I didn't stick to, or greatly expanded upon. It's good to be flexible with what you're doing. If something you originally intended only to be a throwaway bit inspires you, roll with it and keep going. (If it ends up being nothing, you can always discard it or turn it into something else later anyway)

I did the swimsuit one basically fully on my computer, but if you want to see another paper based one, a lot of the comic with the kid stans and crampelter I'm doing currently is down on paper.

If you can make out my writing, you can see it says "Crampelter has found out about Stan and Ford's boxing identities" at the top there, which was the general main idea of this part of the comic. This one was a lot more planned than the dipper swimsuit one. There's multiple pages of this sort of stuff, and I knew the idea I wanted was "If Ford and Stan are trans, why would they still be called those names as kids?" (So I guess the takeaway from this one is if you're wanting a structured comic, write down the main idea on the top of a page and brainstorm dialogue and drawings on it?)

There's a lot of sort of floating heads with dialogue, all that matters is I get the emotions or general idea drawn. They're important for me to draw out because being able to "see" the scene (even if I'm seeing it heavily unfinished) is what usually inspires the next bit of the comic.

And I know I talked like a lot already but some general other advice:

Draw, ask questions about what you've drawn, draw more to answer the questions, see if those new drawings ask any new questions, continue this process till you come to a satisfying resolution.

It's fine to not draw something immediately after you've thought of it. I have a lot of things I've just squirreled away for later. And in the same vein its okay to drag something old up that you've never used and try to work with it.

I almost always put on music while I'm trying to think of things. Something I feel fits the mood of what I'm doing tonally. And then I usually just put the same song on repeat, though some people im sure would feel like that is psychological torture. But its helpful to me.

This might sound silly if you're someone who leaves the house a societally normal amount, but I try to go out into the world and do things so I get new ideas and experiences I can build on. Sometimes those things are literally just "go to the park", but sometimes it's venturing out somewhere several hours away or doing an activity i'd never care to do normally... I try to take note of anything that stood out to me and write down thoughts or feelings I had during.

When it comes to trying to be "funny", you should try to make yourself laugh first. Not only because you want your comics to bring yourself joy, but also because its just hard to make stuff you don't care about (And harder to be consistent about it). Though if you think of something and you don't really think its funny, you don't have to throw it away! You might be surprised what other people end up liking. So don't kill yourself to write jokes you yourself don't really get, but if your brain spits out something on its own you dont care much for, it still may be gold to someone else.

It's okay to make comics about simple and relatable things. People love relating. And depending on what you're writing about, that relatability may be really needed!

Everyone has something of value to say. Even if you yourself don't feel like the things you're saying matter, or that they're too silly or un-serious to matter. They matter.

[zephyrine-gale]

I recently got into Honkai Star Rail through you art and I was wondering what made you ship Blade and Dan Heng? Hope you have a great day ❤️

they had sprinklings of lore throughout the game and I love that! also the very first dan heng nightmare pv was 👀 that was the first thing that made me curious about their dynamic I'm also a sucker for dynamics that are a little unhinged and plague each other's dreams, gotta have a healthy balance of feral so the more intimate moments hit harder ajfjgkgh it's that friends to lovers to tragedy to enemies pipeline

it's that unrequited connection from someone forced to live because of past consequences, and someone who bears the weight of those sins but desperately wants to disconnect from the past. they're currently at their lowest rn but that just means they can only go up from here, and I'm really interested to see how they interact once they learn more about their past

their backstories are very much intertwined, alongside the high cloud quintet. I'll put some stuff that stands out to me below the cut!

Nowhere to Run lightcone

This isn't the first time he's seen this man. This man had become his own inseparable shadow. No matter how many times he runs this man through with his spear, the man always comes back. He can neither lose to this man, nor truly win. Though he wants to run away, there is nowhere to run.

Dan Heng's char story II

Very sus of u blade to chase after another man through countless planets and still recognize him after he's changed his appearance

Blade's char story II

The black-haired young man shivered violently all over, but still clutched onto the spear in his hands. He had no dragon horns, and his reaction was slightly less mature than he remembered... But he would never forget this spear, these eyes, and how cruelty burst out from beneath the mirror-like emerald calmness. His wounds began to heal. His irises flickered and fixed their gaze at the boy once more. Without hesitation, the boy made another flourish with the spear... "That's it." The one who showed no mercy to enemies - was you. The one who single-handedly buried the beloved - was you. The one who almost led the place called home to its destruction - was also you. He fell down again. The teen pressed his hand against his own wounds and retreated, until he was no longer in the man's sight. "Before I witness your death in person, we will meet again, ███."

the beloved = blade the blacked out name = dan feng/imbibitor lunae it implies they knew each other in the past, but DH doesn't remember. Blade doesn't remember much about his past either, only that his mara strikes are triggered by seeing his xianzhou friends of the past (he most likely doesn't remember them as friends)

They share a pair of bracers!

the entire Passerby of Wandering Cloud set is Blade lore! he's such a tragic character, he's been through quite a lot, you should give it a read if you have the time :'>

this one is the backstory for the dragon bracer:

It seems that pairs of objects have telepathic connections with each other. Though the unnamed only had one bracer in his possession, his fingertips could still faintly feel the temperature from the other. He closed his eyes, trying his best to extract any information about the other bracer from the tenuous connection, be it its location or master. A slender yet strong hand once wore the other bracer. That owner, whose sharp spear glinted with a cold light and flourished like shooting stars, once sparred with the unnamed. That owner also once shared company and drinks with the unnamed, the two of them simply gazing at the moon with no words exchanged. However, in the end, it was also this person who stubbornly adhered to their plans with the unnamed, turned the beloved into a monstrosity, and pushed all into an abyss of eternal hatred and remorse. Pairs of objects are destined for an eventual reunion. The long years of grudges and hatred between them should be savored, like ice-cold aged liquor, one slow sip after another until the bottle of resentment is finally empty. Would the wearer of the other bracer feel the same? The unnamed didn't want to know.

the unnamed = Blade = Yingxing

drinking under the moon together -> in cn this is very ceremonial bond/close relationship-coded. Yingxing and Dan Feng were close

Yingxing, a short life species craftsman

Yingxing has the bracer on his right arm and Dan Feng has the other pair on his left

They also share jade pendants (they look like they'd slot together, forming the head and mouthpiece of a cn lion)

This is a line from a vidyadhara egg, but I find the implications very fitting for them :'>

Yingxing created DH's Cloud-Piercer (as well as the other weapons for the High Cloud Quintet)

Blade's char story IV

He remembered that, decades ago, he came to the Xianzhou with a merchant vessel and was impressed by the superb craftsmanship of this place. The young man was obsessed to the point of forgetting to eat or drink, and spent his inspiration like he was running out of time. He forged hundreds of marvels, four of which were the most famous. ... The black-haired man with dragon horns used his water manipulation abilities to rejuvenate his allies, and in the next moment he bound the water upon his spear and used it to ran his enemies through.

Blade's iris shape is similar to IL's lotus motif. lotuses symbolize resilience and rebirth--fitting for both of them, though one came back wrong :'>

Blade | About Dan Heng:

It's been heavily implied that Dan Feng and Yingxing did something that caused catastrophe and resulted in DF being forced to molting rebirth + banishment, and Blade being cursed with immortality and banished.

Dan Feng trusted Yingxing enough to sneak him into the Scalegorge Waterscape and let him do research--into what? we're not sure yet, but since Yingxing is a craftsman, he's probably creating something from the ambrosial arbor?? or from something relating to the vidyadharas. Perhaps he got cursed with Shuhu's gift here?? or DF somehow gave YX immortality, who knows...

I think their plan may be related to what we learn from Imbibitor Lunae's companion quest

SPOILERS FOR IMBIBITOR LUNAE'S COMPANION QUEST

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There's a big focus on vidyadhara's immortality through molting but inability to reproduce, so any casualties in their numbers results in a permanent decrease in their numbers. Dan Feng's sin may be related to changing that (and failing, creating a dragon abomination that they had to fight against instead. although a whole separate vidyadhara was born from the catastrophe--Bailu).

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END OF SPOILERS

Big hc delulu hrs now

Maybe being around the High Cloud Quintet made Dan Feng realize he didn't have a legacy to leave behind, unlike them. Every high elder becomes like the former, they lose their own sense of identity. I'd imagine being around a group of friends with their own agency, who also saw DF as a normal person, made him realize he also wanted to break free from the high elder cycle.

Yingxing may have been DF's biggest wake up call just bc he's a short life species who has done so much, who achieved more than anyone could imagine in a fraction of a lifetime of those in the Xianzhou. DF saw a star shine bright and couldn't help but follow and maybe wish he'd never lose sight of it as well.

Maybe it was for the selfish reason that he didn't want to lose these memories of the people who truly cared for him--of the people he truly came to care for--that he committed such a grave sin

He was dehumanized by everyone around him, I wouldn't put it past him to just. Snap one day, break his cold and calm poise, cry of desperation and fear of losing something dear to him

This kinda became a DF thing but personally, while DH himself may want to distance himself from DF, they're still the same person with shared memories (that DH can't remember)

It's similar to how Blade distances himself from Yingxing because he can't fathom his former self becoming the monstrous thing he is now

I'm really looking forward to when they can both reconcile and put their past to rest

[banquetwriter]

Please do a part 2 to the Johnnie fix u just posted !

୨୧ Cinnamon pt:2 ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡

summary: ʚ A part two to cinnamon ɞ

Words: 1034

An: this was in reference to: cinnamon go check it out since this is part two! This turned out so bad I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make a part two to this so I'm a lil upset lol

It was the day after the party, you weren't too hungover by any means, just a little sick feeling in the morning but that had passed hours ago. You had also left the party early deciding it wasn't fair to torture yourself with Johnnie all night long.

You were taking a slow sip of your drink and scrolling around Pinterest when an Instagram DM from Johnnie popped up on your phone. Your eyebrow shot up tapping the notification.

J: ‘Hey, you left that party quickly last night. Sure you're doing ok?’

You smiled briefly at his message. You set your drink down while sitting up to reply.

‘Haha yeah I’m all good just got a little overwhelmed that's all :)’

You sent your message and decided to put your phone down. You didn't want to wait around for his reply, that was only going to cause you to get even more attached to someone who didn't like you. You turned the TV on and put on one of your favorite shows.

You say most of an episode is for caving and checking for a text back. Sure enough, that was a notification from the world's favorite emo boy. You tap on it unlocking your phone.

J: ‘oh ok. I'm always here if you need to talk or anything like that. Can I ask what made you so overwhelmed?’ he asked. You felt that familiar heartbeat increase as you re-read his message over and over again.

‘It was just someone I didn't wanna be around for that long. It wasn't in a bad way, I just needed a break from someone.’ you replied. You Weren't sure why you couldn't just lie to him but you couldn't.

You hoped he would take your words and leave you be, but as fate would have it… he doesn't. J: ‘Was it me?’ he asks. You're not sure how to respond, you suppose it would be time to talk this out as the opportunity presented itself.

‘We can talk sometime in person, ok? Are you free at all this week?’ you sent back, anxiety creeping its way through your whole body in waves. This wasn't right. We shouldn't meet.

Was there a possibility that Johnnie actually liked you? No. Right? You Weren't sure at this point. People who like someone check in on them. Maybe he DID like you just not how you want him to.

Your heart nearly exploded when you heard another text go through. J: ‘Im free today’ your heart was pounding so fast. Would you even have the courage to meet today in the first place.

It's better to get the bandage ripped off sooner than later. ‘Works for me lets get dinner?’ you sent the message feeling like you were going to vomit. You wanted to get all ready for him, look your best.

But you knew you shouldn't do that. He needed this from you at your most true self. Sweatpants and all. He agreed and you both arranged plans to meet in only four hours.

Four hours is a lot of time to wait for something but it felt even longer as you checked the clock every five minutes to see if it was time or not. But after all your waiting it was finally time to leave.

You pulled up to this place and Johnnie was already standing outside. You both shuffle around each other awkwardly for a moment before you tell him to sit down. You choose a spot outside and sit down.

The wind blows on both of you as it chills you to the bone. “So I did leave because of you but, that sounds so scary and mean.” you start. He just stared at you for a moment “ok.” was all he said, his voice wavering.

“It's because I really like you. And I know this sounds immature and silly but when you didn't talk to me at the party I felt so alone. I thought you might have liked me too and I don't know. I just needed to leave after you gave me water.” you confessed to him.

It all felt so silly now. Leaving a party because a boy didn't like you. He doesn't say anything and again your instinct is to just run, as fast and as far as you can. Johnnie doesn't let that happen this time.

As soon as you stand up his arm reaches out for you. You stop at his contact. “Y/n I definitely like you, don't worry,” he said as you slowly sat back down. You hold his eyes before eventually feeling the feeling of shame creep back in.

“Sorry,” you mumble slowly. “I thought you left because I made you uncomfortable or something,” he said, the wind blowing again. Your heart was soaring at his words. “No, I was just high and overwhelmed,” you said looking down at his hand that was still holding your arm.

“Oh right. Well, I definitely like you, I don't talk to people I don't like this much,” he said, causing both of you to giggle slightly. “I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I just got so scared,” you said through a pitiful laugh.

“It's ok we all get scared of something. I just can't ever imagine someone like you liking someone like me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you mean? You're so fucking funny and nice Johnnie of course I like you,” you say with a smile.

“Thanks but I don't believe you. It's just that you're so funny, smart, and… pretty. I don't know how I can compare.” he said looking down. “Johnnie, that's how I feel about you,” you said leaning towards him.

“We should hang out sometime,” he said, unfortunately removing his hand from your arm to fix his hair. “We’re hanging out right now,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “No, I mean like on a date?” he says looking up at you through his hair. “You wanna take me on a date?” you whisper leaning further towards him.

“Y-yes we should go on a date,” he said again, adjusting his hair. “Ok let's go on a date then.”

“OK?”

“Ok.”