#and me begrudgingly complying

[system-of-a-feather]

Bro, Riku's dragging me out to do some actual further research and solidify my general thoughts on shit cause we have a gynecology appointment to talk about getting the hysterectomy we were considering before but ALSO bring up possible bottom surgery as a proper discussion and we've been putting it off cause personally thinking about that shit in any serious manner even briefly just makes me fucking sick with dysphoria cause we really have like the FAR end of severe dysphoria in terms of bottom dysphoria as far as all trans communities and resources I see talking about coping with it goes and I'm just like

Literally pausing a fucking 8 minute video half way through to take a music break cause this shit fucking hurts on such a visceral level. Like shits like a near OHKO in terms of psychological damage man. I'm built like a tank on physical damage and most emotional damage things but I'm literally like a boss with a GIANT RED weak point on my head when it comes to my own brain at itself.

Like I don't mind mentioning it online cause like, I literally don't have an issue with people bringing it up at me if they aren't my partner but good god I'm like this one thing just fucking OHKOs the tank of a pain endurer that I am.

-XIV

[shawtuzi]

finking of morning sex w plug!eren

mdni pls and thank you///cw include: black fem!reader, drug usage (weed), a lot of sexual tension, lazy morning sex that eventually turns kinda rough, some fluff

9:03 AM

the early morning sun nearly blinded you as eren opened the blacked out curtains in your shared bedroom. “ren what the fuck,” you whined burying your face in the plush pillow you were just a few seconds ago sleeping so peacefully on. eren chuckled, bringing a blunt he had freshly pearled to his lips that were still a bit swollen from last nights activities. you’d recently gotten into nibbling and biting on his lips during your intense kisses and although he found it extremely hot he was definitely paying the price for it.

“suns up mama, time to get up….unless you want me to finish this without you,” he smirked blowing a fat cloud of smoke in your direction. you lifted your head from the pillow, a deep scowl on your face. you begrudgingly sat up making eren grin, “yeah that’s what i thought, go freshen up real quick i’ll roll another one while you’re gone.” you let out a dramatic sigh before making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.

when you walked back into the room eren was laid up on the bed, little o shaped clouds of smoke flying into the air. “turn on some music,” he grumbled and you quirked a brow waiting for him to finish his sentence with a ‘please.’ when he saw you weren’t moving the realization hit him pretty damn quick, “sorry i meant turn on some music please.” you smiled and happily complied, turning on the speaker. you put on ‘feels like summer’ by childish gambino before flopping onto the bed. “careful baby careful—almost made me ash on my chest,” he chuckled giving your ass a light smack.

“yeah yeah whatever gimme some,” you plucked the blunt from his hands and took a long hit. you maneuvered your body onto his lap, his morning wood definitely not going unnoticed. “what’s on the agenda for today babydoll,” he asked tracing his name over and over on your thigh with his index finger. you handed the blunt back over to him before speaking, “mika invited us to brunch at one, then i have my nail appointment at four, we’ll have to do some grocery shopping tonight, and then i was thinking for dinner i could make that cajun chicken alfredo you like so much.” eren was trying to listen he was really was!! but it was so damn hard when your clothed pussy was directly against his dick that was practically straining against his boxers.

“you listening to me ren?” you giggled snapping your fingers in front of his face. a lazy grin broke out on his face and he nodded, “mhm of course i’m listenin’.” the room was slowly but surely becoming boxed and the more it did the more you and eren we’re feeling the effects of the drug. “had a dream about you last night,” you hummed, leaning back, resting your hands on his muscly thighs. eren smirked, his eyes drifting to your cunt that was practically swallowing your panties. he grabbed the second blunt he had rolled and lit it, “yeah? tell me all about it mama.”

“you were eating me out…and you had those fuckin’ grills in. you were doing such a good job i think i might’ve came in my sleep from it,” you sighed dreamily thinking of how damn fine eren always looked when he had his grills in. you felt eren’s dick twitch but didn’t dare say anything, deciding to tease him a little and see how long he’d last. he handed the blunt to you, a low groan rumbling in his chest. “those grills always make you so weak in the knees don’t they?” he said giving you a lazy smirk. his rough hands trailed from your thick thighs, up your tummy, and finally to your breasts where he gave them a soft squeeze. his thumbs brushed over your nipples and you shivered, nearly dropping the blunt in the process.

you head felt like someone had yanked out your brain and replaced it with hot air bc by god all you could think about right now was eren eren eren. “you dream about me a lot?” he asked, mindlessly toying with your breasts. oh he didn’t even know the half of it. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip, nodding at his question. you were supposed to be doing the teasing, but as always eren had the upper hand and was able to turn you into mush with just a few lewd touches. he looked like a dream right now—his jade eyes were red and hooded, his hair that was usually up was down and cascaded beautifully over his broad shoulders, and he had this damn smirk on his face that was getting your panties wetter by the minute.

‘rendezvous’ by partynextdoor (a song that just so happened to be on your sex playlist) began playing, increasing the sexual tension tenfold. eren’s nonchalant façade began to crumble once of felt your wetness begin to seep into the material of his boxers. “you know if you wanna fuck all you have to do is ask, can practically feel your heartbeat on my dick,” his words made your breath hitch making him smirk for the umpteenth time. “no you…no you can’t! don’t be weird,” you pouted slapping his chest. you hadn’t even realized how turned on you actually were until you felt how uncomfortably slick your pussy had gotten.

eren slowly pulled your panties to the side and this mf actually whistled when he finally laid eyes on your soaked center. “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself running a finger through your slit. eren took one final hit of the blunt before setting it in the ashtray on the bedside table. without warning he plunged two fingers in your cunt making you gasp but as soon as they were in he pulled them right back out. he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked your essence off of them until they were clean. “i think i’m gonna let you do the work this morning,” he smiled, snapping your panties back into place. you were taken aback at his words a soft ‘huh?’ leaving your pouting lips.

“this weed got me feeling kinda lazy, use me to get off baby i know you can do it,” he gave your thigh a few soft pats and you whined. you sat up just the slightest bit to pull eren’s boxers down mid thigh, his painfully hard dick slapping against his toned stomach. it was a struggle to get your panties off without fully standing up but you managed, and as soon as they were off you began grinding your pussy up and down his dick. each time his mushroom tip nudged against your clit you let out a little mewl that was music to eren’s ears. “goddamn babydoll haven’t even put it in yet and you’re already making my dick wet as fuck,” he groaned, digging his fingers into the plush of your thighs. your slick had his dick glistening in sunlight and man oh man was it a sight to see.

you didn’t even care that he wasn’t inside you yet, all you could focus on was how hard n warm his dick was. “you already gonna cum? hm?” eren breathlessly chuckled and you replied with a weak ‘uh huh.’ one side of eren wanted to take charge so bad and just fuck you silly, but the other part of him was loving how you were taking the lead and becoming so so consumed in the pleasure you were getting just from grinding on his dick.

within minutes you were cumming on his dick with a pathetic whimper, your hands slamming onto his chest so you were able to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible. you were incredibly sensitive in that moment thanks to the two blunts you previously smoked, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your hand around eren’s dick, using your cum as a lubricant to slowly jerk him off. “just…just need a minute to regroup,” you breathlessly giggled, flicking your wrist a tad faster. eren groaned quietly, his eyes fluttering shut. “take all the time you need baby i’m—s-shit, i’m content as can be right now,” and he really was!! he had gods most beautiful creation taking care of him how could he not be loving life right now??

“‘kay think i’m ready,” you whispered to yourself before moving your body up until his tip was at your entrance. you slowly lowered yourself down, whining at the stretch. it rlly didn’t matter how many times you and eren had fucked you just couldn’t quite get used to the stinging stretch from that first push in. you finally bottomed out and eren’s hands wasted no time finding purchase on your hips. you felt so full.

“feels s’good ren,” you mewled, slowly moving your hips up and down. you pressed your lips to his in a needy kiss which he happily returned, shoving his tongue in your mouth in the process. “i know baby i know. feel so fuckin’ good—like heaven i swear you feel like heaven,” he grunted, bucking his hips up. you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a few soft nibbles. ‘so cute’ he thought to himself as you suckled on his lip. he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing lazy circles onto the throbbing nub. “keep doin’ that m’gonna cum again,” your voice was becoming slurred as your second orgasm of the day was approaching.

you buried your face in eren’s neck letting out little chants of his name as your orgasm washed over you. your mind was so fuzzy the only thing keeping you grounded was the smell of eren’s pine scented body wash. “come back to me baby it’s okay i got you,” he murmured in your ear, stroking your back gently. “want…want some more but i can’t do it, need you to take control please,” you whimpered, twirling your fingers in the silky soft strands of his hair.

eren pressed a kiss to the side of your head and wrapped his strong arms around your back before bucking his hips up. usually his pace would be fast and unforgiving, but he knew you had plans for the day and didn’t want to make you completely fucked out. “yeah jus’ like that baby…love the way you fuck me,” your honey smooth voice moaned directly into his ear. oh how eren loved the praise. eren glanced at the alarm clock on your side of the bed:

10:37 AM

as much as he wanted to savor this moment he knew you’d need at least a thirty minute breather to regroup from the sex, and then it would take you about a good hour to get ready for brunch so unfortunately he had to make this quick. his thrusts picked up and you squealed from how hard his dick was bumping into your pressure point. yeah you’d definitely need a pretty long break afterwards. you removed your face from his neck and after what felt like an eternity eren was able to see your gorgeous semi-fucked out face. you couldn’t help the little droplet of drool that escaped from your kiss swollen lips—he was fucking you that good.

“c’mon renny gimme that nut i need it,” you pouted, squishing his cheeks together and giving him a sloppy kiss. eren moaned into your mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. “m’gonna give it to you don’t worry—f-fuck gonna…gonna fill that pretty pussy up,” he practically growled, giving you a harsh smack on your ass.

“gonna fill you up so full you’re gonna feel me in your tummy all—”

thrust

“fucking”

thrust

“day”

really really hard thrust

“oh shit!” you cried, unintentionally biting down pretty hard on eren’s poor bottom lip. the mix of pain and pleasure had eren’s eyes rolling as he finally came inside you with a deep groan. you weren’t too far behind, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. eren stilled his movements completely but kept your body in an iron grip against his. he hadn’t even realized your head had found purchase once again nuzzled into his neck until he heard little sniffles. worry began to coarse through his veins as he lifted your head from his neck, inspecting your face with his brows furrowed.

“what’s wrong? what happened? did i hurt you? why are you crying? talk to me please,” questions were coming out of his mouth left and right making you giggle. “wha-what? why are you laughing?” the smallest pout was settling on his lips and you internally cooed at how cute he was being. you cradled his jaw in your hands, giving his nose a soft kiss. “m’fine ren it was just a little intense, that shit is strong,” you laughed again, referring to the two roaches in the ashtray. eren let out a tiny sigh of relief after hearing you were okay, a small smile now making its way onto his lips. “damn you bit my lip kinda hard huh?” he chuckled, sweeping his tongue over his bottom lip and tasted the faintest bit of something metallic.

“m’sorry baby,” you frowned giving his lips three kisses. you slowly lifted yourself off of him making you both groan in unison. “i should probably go shower—don’t wanna be late,” you sighed, sitting up, careful not to let eren see the wince on your face. although eren was tough as nails, seeing you in any kind of pain after sex absolutely broke him.

eren sat up as well and followed you to the bathroom, his eyes drifting to the cum that slowly made its way down your thigh. “didn’t you already shower while i was sleep?” you quirked an eyebrow as steam began to fill the room. eren wrapped his arms around you from behind, giving your neck a sweet kiss, “i did but i certainly don’t mind taking another one with you.” you felt something hard poke at your back and it was all starting to make sense. “really eren? really? we just got done not even ten minutes ago,” you giggled breaking out of his hold. eren licked his lips as he examined your naked body, “s’not my fault ole boy likes you so much.”

“yeah whatever horndog.”

<333

[run2gyuz]

★ 𝘾𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙎𝙤𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙣 ★

Requested here

Switch!soobin x fem!reader

𝘼/𝙉: 3rd Soobin request of the day 💪

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: switch!soobin, cockwarming, nipple play, boob lover Soobin 🙌🙌, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap !)

𝙬𝙘: 885

MINORS DNI

When Soobin brought up the idea of a bet between the two of you you immediately knew it wouldn’t end well, “so, you sit on my cock and whoever moans first has to make the other cum however the winner wants okay?”. You begrudgingly accepted, though silently you were excited at the thought of Soobin being inside of you. As he edged you down onto his cock you threw your head back slightly, hovering as to let both of you collect yourselves. You looked at the boy, still hovering above him with half his dick inside of you. His head was lent back against the couch, eyes closed as his chest moved up and down with his breathing. You watched as he tugged on his bottom lip as to not make a noise, feeling his cock twitching inside of you, he was so easy. You smiled at his face, he looked quite relaxed, if someone had just seen his face they wouldn’t have thought his cock was nestled inside his girlfriend. He looked so calm, it almost made you not want to do what you were about to do, key word: almost.

You watched as the boys jaw slacked and his eyes rolled back, bringing his hands to firmly grab at your hips, as you quickly sank down completely on his cock. Soobin kept hold of your hips tightly before leaning his head against your shoulder mumbling out that you were, “so mean,”. You chuckled lightly before squeezing his cock with your tight walls, kissing his neck and letting your hands make their way to his hair. You heard Soobin’s breath hitch as he scrambled to get away from your touch, “don’t do that, you know I can’t control when you do that baby,” you laughed at him again explaining that that was the whole point. “Yeah I know I know just give me a minute to calm down a bit,” You complied, letting your hands find his hair once more to lightly pull and twirl his locks.

Soobin wasn’t going to let you win easily, finally coming up with an idea that he was sure would make you fold. You were snapped out of your daze when you felt Soobins hands grab yours and pull them to his chest. He repositioned himself so that he was still sat up but was slouched slightly which you then felt him reach so much deeper inside of you. “Soobin,” you warned slightly, yet you were ignored as he pulled your hands underneath his t-shirt to rub against his abs, knowing you loved to feel him. You lent down to kiss him, rubbing your hands against his abs, bringing your hands up his chest, lightly brushing his nipples and feeling him shift beneath you, slightly bucking into you. Your head filled with ideas of how to make sure that Soobin didn’t win, although you found it hard to concentrate as all you could feel was the closeness of Soobin.

You brought your hands from Soobins chest and took his hands into yours, bringing them beneath your shirt to your chest. You watched Soobins eyes narrow slightly as he let out a jagged breath. You felt as he squeezed your boobs in his hands, biting his lip and rolling his hips. You connected your eyes with his and brought your hands to his face, before you began to roll your hips against his. The boys eyes rolled to the back of his head and his breath quickened, attempting the push your hips away from his. “Come on baby, just tell me how much you want me, wanna hear you bin,”. He said nothing, knowing if he opened his mouth he’d let out such lewd noises, but he shook his head, leaning against your shoulder.

You felt Soobin’s cock twitch against your walls as you continued to roll against him, squeezing your walls ever so often but still to no avail. “Are you gonna cum pretty boy?” Soobin shook his head again, clearly lying, bringing his hand to your clit in an attempt to bring you to your edge with him. You whispered praises into his ear, feeling his movements against you become sloppy, “come on Soob, you wanna cum?” He nodded harshly as you watched his eyes gloss over with want. You brought your mouth up to his ear once again, lightly whispering, “do it then,”

Soobin let out a pornographic moan, letting his head fall back against the couch, clutching your hips and pushing you down against him as his legs shook and spurts of cum spilled out into you. After he’d calmed down from his high he laughed, locking his eyes with yours before mumbling, “fair play,”. You were about to get off of his dick but as if he could sense it, Soobin pushed you down onto him. You moaned at the feeling as he started to fuck up into you, hot cum dripping out of your cunt and onto his trousers that were still uncomfortably positioned half way down Soobins thigh. “It’s your turn now baby, and if I know you, which I do, you just want me to look after you hm?” You nodded, feeling Soobin flipping you over to lean you against the couch, “Okay then pretty, you ready for your prize hm?”

𝘼/𝙉: Like + reblog pls <3 Requests are welcomed

[6esiree]

Tying Pink Bows On Their Ears, Wings, & Tails

Imagine convincing Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, Adam, Sir Pentious, and Saint Peter to let you tie a bow on some part of them?

Alastor:

How did you manage to convince Alastor to allow you to tie pink bows on his ears, or better yet, his tail? You didn’t, you simply took advantage of the fact he decided to pass out on his stomach, his snores muffled by your pillow. ‘It’ll only be a quick nap,’ Alastor told you, and you believed him, his slender legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Unfortunately for him, your nimble fingers worked amazingly under pressure, his shadow watching on with a wicked smile on its face.

“Oh, I feel much better now, rejuvenated even!” Alastor sighed as he stirred awake, blinking in confusion at the feeling of some sort of tendril caressing his brow. “What is this?” He asked, reaching up to assess it between his thumb and his forefinger, his ear twitching sensitively upon experimentally tugging at it. “A—is this a ribbon?”

“Noooo, why’d you have to do that?” You whined, watching him undo your handiwork in a matter of seconds as he stared back at you, seemingly unimpressed. “I didn’t get to take a picture!” Alastor seized your chin, leaning in to place a fleeting kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Oh, sweetness,” He whispered against your skin, “I cannot be seen in such frivolous things.”

You pouted at him, but when he turned around, you had to stifle your laughter as your eyes trailed down to his backside. Poor, unsuspecting Alastor, you thought—until he grabbed his coat and peered down at you from over his shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. ‘Ah! I almost forgot,’ He started, ‘Help me with this last bow, won’t you?’ The worst part was that he had the audacity to teasingly wag his tail. The bastard. But you complied anyway, albeit begrudgingly.

Lucifer:

You didn’t have to convince Lucifer to tie some pink bows on him, nope. So long as you did it in the privacy of your shared bedroom, he told you, you could do whatever your heart desired. However, as he sat with his back facing you, mentally prepared to have his hair braided and entwined with ribbons, you whispered against his neck, ‘Luci, baby, can I see your tail?’ He blinked before eventually stuttering, ‘Oh, sure!’ curious to find out what you had in store for him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” You admitted, eliciting a squeak from Lucifer as you wrapped your hand around the base of his tail, squeezing it ever so slightly. “Look, honey, I don’t mind you doing that,” He started, subtly rubbing his thighs together, “But, uhh, ya know! My tail’s very—and I mean very—sensitive.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” You said, placing an apologetic kiss on his nape, making him shiver. “Oh, I know you did that on purpose,” Lucifer chuckled, shooting you a grin from over his shoulder, the end of his tail affectionately caressing your jaw. “Now, do what you asked of me before I change my mind.”

While you would have loved to tease Lucifer just a bit more, you desperately wanted to know how his tail looked in pink bows. So, you got to work, a smile growing on your face as you observed the way his body relaxed. It took you a while, but your fingers never ceased their movements, tying bow after bow on the vast expanse of his tail. ‘Done!’ You excitedly announced, clasping your hands together in delight. Lucifer could only stare at you in utter adoration, his tail swishing back and forth.

Husk:

Oh, you practically had to beg Husk to allow you to tie pink bows on him, whether it was on his ears, wings, or tail. The concept was just so embarrassing to him, but as you fell down onto your knees, your cheek pressed up against his crotch while you fluttered your lashes at him in promise, he acquiesced. ‘Christ, fine! Do whateva ya want,’ Husk huffed, bringing you up from the ground before the situation could escalate, an excited squeal seeping past your lips.

“Huskkk, can you stop, like, moving so much?” You asked, trying to tie a bow on the base of his wings, but he kept jumping, the fur on his spine raising every time the soft satin fell. “Ya can’t expect me not to move—it feels funny, alright?” Husk admitted, so you mumbled ‘Fine,’ and moved onto his tail. “What about here?”

“Still sensitive, but not as much,” Husk shrugged, but the way he rolled his shoulders as you ran your enclosed hands from the base of his tail down to his feathers said otherwise. “Hm, okay,” You said, grabbing the ribbon from earlier and getting to work, your eyes darting between your hands and his back, gauging his reaction.

A smile graced your lips as you stared down at your handiwork, the pink standing out against his dark fur. ‘Oh my goodness,’ You sighed, placing a hand over your heart, ‘You look so fucking cute.’ Instead of responding, Husk suddenly pounced on you, pinning you to the bed. ‘Ya gonna come through on ya promise?’ He asked, his tail swishing back and forth behind him, but how could you take him seriously with a giant pink bow tied to him? He growled as you laughed at him.

Vox:

At first, Vox said no to you when you asked if you could tie a pink bow on him. But then you straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around his waist, dropping your head onto his shoulder with a pout—how could he say no to that? ‘Fine, but I’m going to take it off afterwards, understood?’ Vox made it clear to you. He rolled his eyes, but he also couldn’t help but chuckle as you hopped off of his lap, telling him you’d be back before you ran out of his office.

“This is ridiculous,” Vox sighed, watching you remove his hat and place it on the desk behind you. “To you? Yes. But to me? Nah,” You said, grabbing a pink satin ribbon, fixing to tie it to his crooked antenna. “Woah, woah! Slow down there, sweetheart,” He reached up and grabbed your wrist, your fingers anxiously twitching.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked, but then he moved your hand to his other antenna. “No, I just recommend you try this one instead, that’s all,” Vox simply said, releasing your wrist when you shrugged, his hands falling onto your thighs. “Oh, alright.”

As you tied the soft satin around Vox’s straight antenna, you felt his body sink into the chair, peering down to see his eyes shut and his claws flexing mindlessly against your skin. You smiled at that, purposely drawing out your ministrations so he could relax just a little bit longer. ‘All done,’ You whispered, fluffing out the bow, but you were met with silence instead of a response. Vox had fallen asleep, you realized, and oh, he made for such an adorable sight.

Adam:

You brought your head up from Adam’s lap, wiping your mouth clean with the back of your hand as you blinked away your tears. ‘Satisfied?’ You arched a brow at him, receiving a lazy nod and a wonky smile in response. Under no circumstance could you tie pink bows on him—that’s what Adam told you when you first asked, but you knew that was a lie. You felt triumphant as you crawled onto the bed and sat behind him, caging him with your thighs.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening,” Adam groaned, feeling utterly embarrassed even though nobody but you would get to see him. “You’re such a baby, I swear,” You said, quickly adding the next part when he shot you a warning look over his shoulder, “My baby, though.” You leaned in and stole a kiss from his lips.

“Stop, that’s so cheesy—just get it over with, alright?” Adam huffed, turning around before you could see the blush growing on his face. “Well, if you sit still, I’ll be done in no time,” You hummed, trying not to giggle as his wings slightly fluttered, clearly affected by the sensation of the soft satin ribbon. “Hey, don’t you fly away from me just yet.”

Somehow, you managed to decorate Adam’s wings with many bows, but they were mostly loose and ready to fall off at any given moment. You also ended up taking longer than you should have because of all his movement; still, he looked cute, and you couldn’t help but let him know that. ‘Never thought I’d say this but, damn, do you look cute,’ You sighed, wrapping your arms around his stomach. ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ Adam mumbled, his heart feeling full.

Sir Pentious:

How could Sir Pentious say no to you when you asked him if you could tie a pink bow on him? Much like Lucifer, he would allow you to do whatever your heart desired, so long as it was reasonable. There was no harm in something as innocent as a simple accessory, your only issue being what to tie. You tried his tail at first, but when he experimentally slithered away, it came off in a matter of seconds. So, you decided to focus on something else instead.

“Ohhh, that feels rather funny,” Sir Pentious shivered as your hands felt down his hood. “Do you think if I tied a bow in the middle that it would look like you have a ponytail?” You asked, receiving a contemplative hum in response from him.

“Perhapsss it would,” Pentious said, feeling the soft satin ribbon caress him. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, sighing in relaxation at your ministrations. “Oh my goodness, it does,” You giggled, being careful not to make the bow too tight. “Oh, that’s…wonderful.”

You rounded the serpent, staring at him and admiring him more than your handiwork. ‘How do I look?’ Pentious expectantly clasped his hands in front of his chest, his face growing warm as you approached him, your lips mere centimeters away from his. ‘Breathtaking,’ You said, reaching out to cradle his jaw. ‘Oh! Well, I, uh, thank you very much,’ Pentious nervously chuckled. ‘Shall we show the others your fine work?’ You gave him a quick kiss before nodding, making him melt.

Saint Peter:

When you asked Saint Peter if you could tie pink bows on his wings, he blinked, wondering why you’d want to do that. ‘Well, why not?’ You said, a coy smile playing on your lips. Fair enough. He turned his back to you, his wings fluttering in anticipation as you delicately ran your fingers down the expanse of them. They were so soft and a beautiful shade of blue, and you could already imagine how ethereal Peter would look with delicate satin ribbons clinging onto his feathers.

“If they’re too sensitive then I can just stop, you know,” You hummed against Peter’s neck, but he quickly shook his head. “No, no, that’s not necessary,” He chuckled nervously, doing his best to steady his wings as you tried to tie a bow on the base for starters. “I’m simply not used to having them touched, that’s all.”

“I should touch them more often, then,” You said, leaning away from him so you could focus on the task at hand, and oh, he was thankful for that. His face flushed, already having a general idea about what you meant. “Ah, well, I’m not entirely opposed to that,” Peter coughed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Maybe after we’re done?” You whispered, “The night is still young.”

You tried not to chuckle as you felt him shift in front of you, tying bow after bow wherever you could. ‘There, all done!’ You announced, admiring how beautiful his wings looked in the pink satin. ‘Oh, well, won’t you look at that!’ Peter said, getting up and approaching the nearest mirror, carefully spreading his wings so as to not ruin your handiwork. You sighed at that, craning your neck and squinting at him affectionately. He’s such an angel, you thought as he smiled at you.

[sugoi-writes]

Hi, i have a proposition for you...

Alastor catching himself bleating whenever reader touches him 👀

(i just find it so adorable when he squeaks like a little fawn when Rosie pulls him in that one scene and the theory that he does that only when he's happy and with a person he feels comfortable with)

Gdhdhd I had discovered this a while back, and the idea THRILLS me. To no fucking end! I hope this is okay and worth the wait! (Two Fics in one week? HUH?)

No warnings for this one! Just cute cute fluff (I'm doing my best! ;w; gdhdhdhd)

A Bleating Heart - Alastor x GN! Reader

You were reading your book in Alastor's armchair, taking in the heat that radiated from the mint green flames of the fireplace. When you heard a groan to your rear, you paused. You looked behind you, only to see Alastor tossing and turning onto his side. You couldn't help your frown, watching as Alastor's brows furrowed. The Radio Demon was frustrated, his cheek smashed into his pillow aggressively. 

"...everything alright, dear?" You ask softly, recalling that he was 'laying down' to get rid of his headache. Though you knew that Alastor wasn't one for sleep, you kept quiet and content all the same. But when he shook his head, pointing directly to it, you understood perfectly. 

" 'Antlers still bothering you, huh...? Headache?" 

Alastor hummed lowly, turning over and laying face down into his bed. While he was muffled by a pillow, you could barely make out what he said:

" I loathe shedding... It hasn't even begun, and-- oh, they itch-- to no end..." 

"And I assume that doesn't help your headache either?" 

Alastor grumbled, unable to be upset at your gentle pestering. You doted on him like his mother, a quality he would never admit to loving about you," ...Not a lick, dear..." 

You innocently stand from the armchair, walking over to Alastor's bedside," Would... Would it helped if you laid your head in my lap?" 

Alastor raises his head up slightly, eyes narrowed," I hardly see how that could help in this predicament..." You sigh, gently rolling Alastor over onto his back before sitting in the space he used to occupy. Begrudgingly, he did not stop you, but his eyes followed you cautiously. 

"Just trust me... Okay?" 

Alastor's expression soured. Trust is a hard-earned thing to receive from him. The Radio Demon, in all his glory, was slow to make acquaintances, and slower to give out trust. But, he relented, allowing you to sit beside him comfortably. When you patted your lap expectantly, Alastor complied. Due to his antlers, he awkwardly laid sideways on his bed, knees rising and coming together as his head finally met your lap. Thankfully, you would not be disemboweled by his accursed antlers tonight. 

When you smiled down to him, Alastor simply closed his eyes, unable to look your way without feeling embarrassed. This was well outside of his comfort zone. He was feeling incredibly vulnerable while his body did everything to antagonize him. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place, despite your plush thighs cradling his head.

However, when he felt your hand brush against his hair, scratching gently, his throat ran dry. All nerves and stiffeness became lesser; like the rest of his senses, they became dulled. 

The touch was... Foreign, soft... But not unwelcome. It was soothing, even. When you continued to touch, your hands working in subtle circles against his scalp, he couldn't help the quiet, pleased hum that left him. 

" 'Feels good, my buck?" 

Alastor cracked one eye open, his smile wavering,"...please don't make me say it out loud," Alastor said quietly, a chuckle rising in his throat. You shrugged, not minding his shyness. 

"Hmm, it would be so much cuter if you did, though~" 

When your hand moved to an antler, scratching gently at the base, a full-body tremor ran through his neck down to his hooves. His knees knocked together, a quiet, animalistic noise tumbling out of him. You blink a few times, surprised by the noise, and decided to repeat the action. When a meek, content bleat hit your ears, your eyes nearly doubled in size. You were beaming down at Alastor, a large, giddy inhale expanding your chest. Your heart throbbed at the subconscious gesture. 

Meanwhile, Alastor's eyes were slammed shut, much tighter than before. His heart was racing with anxiety, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. 

Why. Why now, of all times, could he not keep his pathetic little ticks at bay? Of course he found comfort in your company, but-- 

...Maybe he should have used his words, after all. 

"Alastor, was that...?" 

"If you value your life, you will never speak of this again." 

You throw your free hand up defensively, a coy smile on your face," Oh sure, sure... Of course. Whatever you say, Alastor." When a second hand joined the other, lightly scratching at the base of his other antler, that small, high pitched bleat bounced right out of him. 

"Mmm... Yes... Yes, not a word, mon ange... Not a single word... but this-- this is fine for now..." 

You chuckle, increasing the pressure you applied as Alastor melted into your touch. 

"If you continue to be this adorable, I would never speak again, if it meant you stayed like this forever~" Alastor's hands folded together, laying on his chest. Soon enough his knees fell apart, creating a wide 'v'. He looks to you with both eyes as his brow twitches. 

"And what fun would that be? I rather enjoy our conversations, cher." You nearly snorted, surprised that Alastor didn't realize you were joking. 

You laugh, your shoulders shaking with an effort to be quiet as Alastor's legs finally gave out, hanging lazily off of the bed. When your hands moved higher up his antlers, you noticed his legs swinging back and forth idly. You wondered if he noticed, or if this was yet another subconscious action. 

" Fine, fine... I promise to keep talking~ but only if I get to keep spoiling you like this." 

Alastor feels his heart squeeze at the notion, a warmth spreading across his cheeks and ears. He refused to confirm or deny your request with words, instead shimmying his shoulders to sink further into your lap. An open-mouthed sigh was your only response as you lightly dragged your nails across one of his points, his hands untangling from one another. His body almost felt like liquefied, completely and utterly relaxed, taking up an obnoxious amount of space on his bed. And for once, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it while in someone else's presence. 

He felt safe... Immensely so. But he would never profess to that to you so soon. 

For now, he was content with you playing with his hair, scratching his irritable antlers while he listened to you speak. Quite frankly, it wouldn't take long for Alastor's mind to shut down, his body losing the fight to slumber. When you noticed his breathing toggle to a steady, silent repetition, you resigned yourself to being a pillow. If you were honest, you would sooner die again than move from that spot. You would only permit that once Alastor woke up again, head clear and eyes soft... You wondered how he would look waking up, the adorable thought alone making you feel a surge of glee.

You didn't mind the sensation of pins and needles settling in your legs, knowing that this was a rare moment. Why interrupt something so fleeting? So precious?

You couldn't help but watch as Alastor laid in your lap, unmoving and completely slack. You decided you wouldn't tell him about how he lost his smile while he slept. In the rarest of moments, his lips were agape, formed into a flat, horizontal line. You'd tuck that secret into the back of your mind for safe keeping... A fond memory you'd hang on to for the rest of your afterlife. (A secret almost as precious as his quiet snores, which started when you played with his hair again.) You almost squeaked when Alastor bleated again, much softer than when he was awake. Yes, it would be best if you never mentioned it... Alastor would die from sheer embarrassment alone, you think.

You let out a tired yawn, your mind wandering. Honestly? If you were really, truly in Hell... Well, this was a pretty splendid way to spend it, wasn't it? Why seek forgiveness and redemption, when your entire world was in your lap? And with that thought in mind, you decided to get some sleep, your head resting against the cool wood of Alastor's headboard. 

[toms-cherry-trees]

Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary:  There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, lactation kink, mommy kink, p in v sex, handjob, edging and denial (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), implications that Aegon was beaten as a child, Aegon being a sad little meow meow, minor character death,

Author’s Note:  First time writing Aegon y'all!. But this idea had taken root in my brain and had to be delivered. Thank for to my lovely honorary wifey @aemondsbabe for brainstorming with me and giving me the seal of approval at an ungodly hour. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @fairysluna

The embrace catches you by surprise, a pair of strong arms circling your waist and a nose nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin. A large hand cups the round weight of your breast, clumsy fingers unsuccessfully trying to undo the buttons of your servant’s dress. The other lays flat against your belly, pushing your body flush against the prince standing behind you. You try to halt his movements, eyes darting around the nursery to ensure your privacy, even though you knew the children have gone out to the Godswood with the Queen and Princess Helaena. Still, you need to make sure no prying eyes will come across you two. You will not be the first servant the prince laid with, nor the last, but gossip would spread nonetheless if Aegon is found being so amorous with his children’s wetnurse.

He has already opened the first two buttons when you decide to stop him, gentle but firm fingers holding his own and pressing his hand against your heart. A small groan of discontent escapes his lips, and you can picture the scowl in his face without looking at him. He complies and abandons his efforts, but doesn't let go of your body, keeping you caged on a grip tighter than usual. You two linger like that for a few moments, surrounded by a comfortable silence. You could stay like that, but you know that something particularly bad has to occur for him to seek you during the day and with such desperation.

“My Prince?” You try to crane your neck to lay eyes on him, but he only groans again and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your flesh. You feel dampness on your skin, like tears dropping slowly from his lashes.

With a bit of struggle you turn around, still trapped in his arms. You try to make him look up but he refuses, hidden into you like a cranky child. Over time you have learned how to read him, as easily as an open book laid out before your eyes. He has his way with words to brazenly flirt, jest and argue, but never to express his feelings, especially when they overwhelm him. He just tries to show with actions what his mouth refuses to say. 

Tenderly, like you would do to one of the children in your care, you force him to look up and meet your gaze. Red rims his eyes, violet pupils glossed over with unshed tears, the imprint of a slap still fresh and inflamed upon his cheek. You need not ask to know he has once more been caught in an altercation with his grandsire and mother, one in which he stood no chance. He never has a chance against them and the great plans they have for him, plans in which he has no say nor desire.

“Go to your bedchamber” You murmur quietly, two fingers pressing against his lips to stifle the protest that has already formed “I will be there shortly.”

Begrudgingly he drops his arms, quietly exiting the nursery, shoulders slumped and gaze downcast. You quickly finish your current duties, instructing another maid to cover for you as you make way to his chambers as discreetly as possible, excuses ready upon your lips should someone question your presence away from the children. But no one looks at you twice amidst the hustle and bustle of the Keep, and you find his door unguarded and unlocked.

Aegon has already thrashed the bed in a fit of anger, the blankets scattered around it while he lays under a sheet, still fully dressed and shoes still on. He clings to a pillow like a child to a beloved toy, although by the way he does it, so tight his hands touch his own arms, you think he is trying to actually hug himself, give himself some of the love he rarely got. You sit by his side, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He takes your hand, fingers tight around your wrist as he brings it up to his face, pressing your soft palm to his reddened cheek. He closes his eyes, and you notice yet more tears beading on his lashes, and the characteristic wobble of his lower lip. 

“Let’s get you comfortable, yes?” Soft tone and gentle words, a speech used many times before with him. You have been there a plethora of times with him drunk, hungover, crying, covered in spilled wine and his own waste. And time after time you have cleaned him, changed his clothes and dried his tears. You have snuck his soiled sheets and clothes to the laundresses, since you know his maids report his every word and action back to his mother, and you want nothing more than to spare him to the best of your abilities from his elders’ wrath.

Some nights he clings to your body desperately, his fingers digging on your hips as he begs you to stay. And you comply, unwilling to pile more sorrow on him and incapable of denying anything to those wide, sad eyes. 

He doesn’t say word, but you don’t need any to heed his call for help. You undress him easily, unbuttoning his doublet and undoing the laces of his breeches, leaving his clothes carefully folded on a nearby chair, the boots neatly by the side. When he remains in only his linen shirt and smallclothes, you put the bed together around him, tucking the sheets and smoothing the blankets as you quietly sing a lullaby, the same you use to put his twins to bed every night. It has the same calming effect on him as it had on them; the soothing of your voice halting his tears and making him relax his posture as he lets himself be cared for and pampered by your tenderness. 

Once he has settled comfortably, you lay by his side. Aegon immediately scoots closer to you, his head burrowed against your bosom and one arm draping around your waist. You trace his swelling cheekbone with featherlight touch. Whoever has slapped him has put quite a lot of anger into it, most likely his grandsire. It is not the first time things have gotten physical between them, and most certainly not the last. It seems the Hand thinks he can beat his grandson into the Prince he wants him to be.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Aegon often chooses to seek comfort and just push his problems to the back of his mind, but you still encourage him to voice his woes. More often than not he prefers to remain silent, but you always offer him the space to speak freely and without consequences should he want to. To know he won’t be judged or chastised, and he will only be met with the tenderness he deserves.

Long seconds linger in absolute silence before his voice breaks through, weak and constricted “They have found me a bride”

You only nod, not needing to ask more. Ever since Aegon’s first wife had passed, scarcely 3 nights after the birth of their twins, his grandsire and mother had pushed him to pursue another wife, a lady from a strong House to garner their support when the time came. Originally his mother had wanted him to marry Helaena, to strengthen his claim to the throne, but then the King intervened. The only time he put his foot down instead of letting his council rule on his behalf, and he did it to betroth Aegon to a branched out lady of House Velaryon, while promising Helaena to Aemond. While the siblings’ marriage flourished, Aegon found himself tied before the Gods to a woman he couldn’t love, to the extent it took 6 years for them to conceive, and she only lived enough to name them. 

At your silence, Aegon clings tighter to your body, his freshly blossoming tears dampening the front of your dress “I don’t want to, they can’t make me” His sniffs, and you notice him pressing his lips tightly together to force himself to be quiet.

You shush him, smoothing back his damp hair “You have to, sweetling. You are a Prince, and you have duties to your mother and family” Your words make him tense again, fisting your dress as he exhales loudly through his nose. 

“I have no duties, I am not the heir, I am just a failure they are stuck with. I’ve done everything they wanted of me, and still my mother won’t ever look at me with pride” Another conversation had one and a thousand times. As the firstborn male, all eyes turned to him when the King’s health began to fail, and even though he still lingers, he hangs only by a very fine thread. And the Hand has everything prepared to land the crown upon his own bloodline, whether his grandson wants to or not. And he most certainly doesn’t want to. 

You don’t argue, knowing that any attempt of contradicting him would only circle you back to the same arguments. You only let him speak, let it all escape his chest. But he has few words that day. There’s not much to say that has not been said already.

“Father never loved me. Grandsire only sees me as something at his disposal to use at convenience. Mother does not love me any more than what she is obliged to” His eyes meet yours, wide and adorable and terribly sad “I only have you. Just you. If they make me marry I won’t let you go. You cannot abandon me” His words carry an urgency and fear you hadn’t heard on him before. A deeply rooted terror of losing the only person who has not touched him with violence

You press tender kisses to his forehead, your touch gentle and warm “You will always have me, sweet boy. To the end of times. If they send you to the end of the world, I will be right behind you, taking care of you. If they put you on the throne, I will be at your feet as your most loyal servant”

Those reassuring words coax a smile out of him, a smile only meant for you. It is not often these days that Aegon is seen smiling, only in rare instances when he is with his children or with Sunfyre. All the others are reserved just for you. 

Another comfortable silence lingers between you two, eyes locked with one another as your fingers card through his blonde tresses, his breath becoming a little sharper every time you accidentally tug on a knot. His hands snake up your front, stopping just in the curve of your breasts as he waits for your permission. You easily undo the very first button, allowing him the pleasure of doing the rest. 

It takes him no time to have the front fully unbuttoned, pushing the fabric away to reach the object of his desire. The dazzled look he gets on his face whenever he stares at your bare breasts never fails to amuse you, as if he is staring at the most wonderful thing the world has to offer. His lips quickly find home around your perked nipple, releasing a satisfied sigh as he suckles at your milk, his hand cupping the free breast and massaging it lovingly, swiping his thumb over the hardened peak. You let out a content sigh, settling comfortably on the pillows as you watch Aegon nurse enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe. 

It had been after one of his many nights out that he first found comfort that particular way. Smelling of cheap perfume, even cheaper spirits and covered in vile things you didn’t wish to identify he had returned, and once more you had been by his side, putting his broken pieces back together and trying to not let his cracks be seen by the world the next morning. His hands had roamed your body, as they often did, a touch you glady allowed; he had never once done one thing you didn’t let him do, not even while being so deep in his cups he couldn’t say his own name. He had rested his face against your bare chest, inhaling deeply the musk of your skin while he toyed absently with your breast. A sharp pinch to your nipple had coaxed out some droplets of milk, which he collected on his thumb and brought to his lips. He repeated the process several times before crossing eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of rejection, but you only smiled and helped him get comfortable in your lap as he latched onto your breast for the first time. Nothing could quite calm him like that afterwards.

The prince at your breast lets out small sounds of satisfaction and content sighs as he grips your flesh tenderly, massaging it to coax more of the rich liquid to come down. At first you think he is relaxing and perhaps close to falling asleep, but then you notice his free hand down his body, palming his erection over the sheet. His teeth graze the engorged bud of your nipple ever so delicately, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, accompanied by a growing dampness between your thighs. You rub them together discreetly, seeking some form of friction as you continue to watch Aegon clumsily touch himself, trying to balance his need for pleasure with the attention he is lavishing upon your tits. 

His whines take a desperate edge while he humps his own hand, his movements faltering since he doesn't know where to focus. Instinctively your hand moves slowly down his torso and under the sheets; you gently push his away and wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few tentative pumps.

“Do you want Mommy to take care of this?”

Both of you stop for a moment, eyes wide, and he even drops your breast in shock. He had very occasionally called you ‘mommy’, mostly ironically when you had ordered him around, or more intimately when you did certain things like tug on his hair or grip him a bit tighter. But you had never used the term that way, and by the way his cock throbs in your hand, the idea excites him as much as it does you. You give him a firm squeeze, making him jump on the bed

“I asked you something, sweet boy. I taught you how to use your words. Do you want Mommy to take care of your problem?”

Aegon swallows visibly, eyes still wide. His lips move rapidly, but no sound comes out other than a pathetic mumbling as he tries to unscramble his brains. He finally gives up and just nods, looking up pleadingly. But you don’t cave in and give him a firmer squeeze, earning a whimper from him

“Words” You say firmly, but without sounding too harsh. You don’t want to take him too far and make him scared. But you are also deeply curious on how far you can take this little jest. 

It seems to take all his strength to push out every word “Yes Mommy, please” He sounds so small and defenceless, bordering on innocence. If you didn’t know him much better you would believe him a man that has rarely laid with women. 

Encouraged, you stroke his hard cock slowly, swiping your thumb across the leaking head to gather the already forming drops and smearing them down his length. Aegon’s hands are everywhere, on your face, on your breasts, on your shoulders, pushing the rest of your dress out of the way to free more of your skin. He grips your hips, squeezes your thighs, seeks in your body an anchor to life as his face scrunches in pleasure. His breaths become ragged and you see his abdominal muscles tensing as he approaches climax. But as soon as you feel the familiar twitching you let go of him, your hand resting on the curve of his thigh. 

His eyes shoot open and he half sits, staring at you with a mix of desperation and indignation. He whimpers quietly, shifting his hips to try and get under your delicious touch again, but you slap his thigh gently to keep him still.

“No moving. Mommy is taking care of you and you don’t move unless I say so.” Your tone is low, whispering the words as you press your forehead against his, gazes locked on each other. The black of his eyes has widened, making the purple seem darker, and the tears have dried at last. All that remains is lust mixed with submission, all of it just for you.

You gently caress his stones, watching in amusement as gooseflesh spreads across his skin at the touch, his legs instinctively spreading wider to grant you better access. You trace your index up his length, following the path of the throbbing vein prominent on the underside of his cock, while he fists the sheets, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You lean down to kiss him, letting him drown his moans against your welcoming mouth when you finally pump him, keeping the pace steady.

Again you stop just seconds before he reaches climax, earning an even more desperate whimper from him.

“Mommy, please, it hurts, I want to-” His words are cut short when your free hand takes hold of a fistful of his hair, just enough to feel the pull in his scalp. The moan comes from the depths of his chest when you brush your lips against his ear.

“Are you a good boy? A good boy for Mommy?” 

He nods eagerly, his hands cupping your face to keep you close.

“I will be good Mommy. Please, please it hurts” His eyes gloss over, and his lower lip trembles again. He looks so pretty you struggle in your heart to carry on with this little game, even though he seems to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it too, so much you feel is unfair you are missing out on the best part.

You pull away just enough to drop your dress to the side, your smallclothes following suit. With Aegon flat on his back, it is easy for you to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock snuggle in your slick folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when you rock your hips, gliding the heat of your cunt along his length. You take a slow pace, dragging out the moment as much as possible. But while you are in no rush to finish, Aegon is in a desperate hurry, pushing against your hips and mewling desperately to urge you on. When he tries to grab your hips you smack his hand away and lean in, so close your breaths mingle. 

“Stay still, sweet boy. You don’t want Mommy to get angry and leave you like this, do you now?”

“But Mommy” He pants heavily, beads of sweat gathering in his temples “I need it, please. I will be good. I need to be inside you. Please” 

You click your tongue, a smirk pulling at your lips. You smooth back his hair and press a kiss to his hairline, an almost soothing touch.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. But you have to keep being good and do as you are told, sweetling. If you are extra good, Mommy will let you spend inside her” 

With that promise in mind, Aegon does his best to stay still, but you don’t make it easy for him. The rhythm is tantalisingly slow, coming to a halt every time you or him get too close to climax. His desperation grows to uncharted levels, fingers digging on the mattress, fists so tight on the sheets his knuckles turn white, lip bitten so strongly between his teeth it leaves an imprint. Tears bead in the corners of his beautiful eyes and roll down, dampening the sheet underneath. When you stop for the umpteenth time and a sob racks his chest, you know he’s ready.

You sit back on your haunches and watch him carefully. His hair is toussled from how much he has trashed on the bed, his face puffy and tear streaked, the flush of his cheeks spreading down to his chest. His cock is angrily red and leaky, impossibly hard and coated in your juices. Every muscle on his body is tense like a bowstring ready to fire. You touch his taut abs, rubbing the aching muscles soothingly.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. You deserve your prize” 

The moan he releases as you line his cock with your entrance, sinking slowly until he is buried to the hilt, has surely been heard throughout the entire Keep. Encased in your tight heat, it takes no more than a few rocks of your hips for him to peak, back arching off the mattress dramatically as he screams his release to the vaulted ceilings, painting your walls with his spend. But you are not quite there yet. You continue to ride him, now at a dizzying pace, chasing your own release. His whines reach a new high, having barely time to recover from his groundbreaking climax. His abused cock is almost too sensitive to touch, and the drag of your cunt around him feels like fire climbing up his spine; the most deliciously tortuous fire. 

Your hips and thighs begin to ache from the exertion, but you are so close, and seeing your sweet Prince so ruined it's definitely spurring you on. You shift your angle just a bit, so the head of his cock brushes against a certain spot inside you that makes you feel like you can touch the stars, all while your fingers circle your neglected pearl. It takes no more than a few thrusts before you climax, your walls tightening around him and somehow drawing out a second peak from him, even though you are sure he doesn’t have much more left to give you. You ride out your release, halting only when the burning on your thighs becomes too much to ignore. 

You slide off and lay next to Aegon, who appears to still be waiting for his soul to return to his body. His eyes are wide, some stray tears still rolling, his breaths heavy and slow. When he whines quietly and turns to you, you reward him with a sweet smile and a tender, brief kiss upon the lips. Aegon snuggles into you, just like he likes it best, his face buried in your cleavage as he catches his breath. You rub his back in slow, soothing circles; he closes his eyes, his lips seeking and finding your nipples once more

While he suckles you lean closer, tracing his features with your fingertip

“You were such a good boy. So good for me. Mommy is so proud of you” 

The gentle praise goes straight to his heart, that much you can tell in the way he hugs you with his entire body and the upward turn of the corner of his mouth. You know he is tired, and perhaps his body is urging him to sleep. But to do that he needs one last little nudge

“Mommy will always be with you, my sweet Prince”

[emphistic]

Greedy

A/N: requested by @charbunxxi — i did something a little different, lmk if you would rather me repost a more accurate version to your request

The first thing Sukuna thought about after getting off his shift was you. You were the only thing he thought of while working, too. And, on the drive home, he almost crashed his car due to the fact that you were the only thing on his mind.

Some might say he's obsessive. Some might say he's deranged. Some might say he's a man deserving of nothing.

But then there's you, who says he's just a man in love.

He's a man who makes you breakfast and coffee — the way you like it. He's a man who draws you baths and washes your hair. He's a man who carries your bags after having gone shopping — with his card, obviously. He's a man who arrives at the apartment and — even then, still looks for home. He's a man who looks for you.

However, this time — unlike all other times, after slipping off his footwear and coat, he is unable to find you.

Maybe you were taking a shower? No. Maybe you were watching TV in the living room? Nope. Maybe you were doing laundry? Not even close.

When Sukuna finally succeeded in his search for you in your shared bedroom, he facepalmed. "'m so fuckin' stupid," he grunts out, as he crawls into bed.

You had fallen asleep while trying — but failing — to stay up in order to greet Sukuna after he returned home from work; but, he had had a longer shift than usual, and forgot to tell you.

He didn't mean to wake you. After all, it's not his fault that your pet cat just had to let out the world's loudest meow, announcing his arrival.

"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered, glaring at the little nuisance laying in the bed, cuddled up in your loving arms. The loving arms where he should be, not some ugly, good-for-nothing feline.

"My bad, baby. Swear, didn't mean to wake you—" He goes in to place a kiss on your cheek, but you simultaneously swerve away from him.

"No," you softly whine, shoving your head into the pillow.

"The fuck you mean 'no'? You seriously gonna deprive me of my well deserved kiss? After working a twelve hour shift?"

"No kisses." You mumble, your voice muffled.

Sukuna blinked at you, once, twice, thrice, until he finally concluded that you weren't just fucking around with him, and you were actually denying him of something totally essential to his well-being.

How was he meant to go on without your kisses? How would he live, breathe, eat, sleep, without your affection?

He tried to remove you from the pillow, but you instantly shoved your face back. "Noo."

"Sweetheart, I love you, y'know that already. And I wouldn't force you to do anything against your will. But, you don't understand, baby. What you're doing is completely and utterly cruel. This is wrong, on so many levels." He tried, again, to peel your face away from the pillow. And he succeeded, this time. But this time, you had a nasty pout on your face.

"You wanna know what's cruel? The fact you haven't showered, and yet, still have the audacity to crawl into bed. I'll have you know, I just replaced the bedsheets, and now here you are — dirtying them up."

"Babe, please—" He started.

"You are stinking up the whole goddamn apartment, Sukuna."

"You don't gotta be this way. We can talk it out."

"Sukuna—"

"C'mon, pretty girl. Just one? For little ol' me?"

You grumbled, but complied, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, only one. But you have to take a shower after—mmph!"

Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and tackled you down onto the bed, smashing his lips against yours so zealously that even the cat jumped out of your arms and off the bed.

-

It, indeed, was not just one kiss. But, it wasn't a total loss. Sukuna did end up taking that shower. And he gave you a reason to, as well.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

[zph]

mixed with love and sweet vanilla. | scaramouche x gn!reader

in which scaramouche tries out a new chapstick, and he wants you to test it out. kissing ensues.

notes: lots of kissing, short&sweet (literally), established relationship, very indulgent, fluff

tag: @kabupilled

based on this post | masterlist

“Could this-?” Scaramouche grumbles, his face trapped between your palms. “Could you have waited for me actually to sit down before you started being weird?”

A swift kiss to his nose cuts him off. “Do you want me to stop?” You already know the answer but you patiently wait for his response.

He narrows his eyes at you, blinks then suddenly pulls you down with him, and onto the couch where the plush pillows soften your fall. He snickers at the yelp that escapes your lips.

Down below, you were at a full view of his sly grin and that shiny tint that decorates his lips. You followed the way his mouth moved, the warm red faintly shining just enough to spark your curiosity.  “I said wait. Not stop.” He snickered.

You merely rolled your eyes, then tugged him closer to where you sat, until his legs wrapped around your hips, and your hands locked behind his back.

From here, a quick smell of a sweet fragrance wafts into your nose, the scent only compelling you for another kiss. You look up, expecting him to find amusement in how you hover over his face; but instead, he greets you with an expectant look, eyebrow furrowed with a note of impatience.

So, this was his plan all along.

And so, with one gaze and one tilt of his head, you drive in to gingerly press your lips against his, gentle and slow, just to bask in the feeling and taste.

Is that…

Moving away, you immediately went to gauge the flavor on your tongue. Vanilla. His lips were sweet like vanilla. “…Is this one new? I swear you never wore it before.”

You feel how he rubbed his thumb up and down the column of your neck before he angled his head so his lips drew nearer and nearer until…

“Ha, you are imagining things.” He whispers.

But this time, Scaramouche closes the distance, no longer tolerating the separation. “Just too obsessed.” He says, but you feel the corner of his lips rise as the rumble from your chest lets out fits of laughter in response.

Did he really wear this just so you could have an excuse to kiss him?

“Do you have more of that chapstick?” your voice comes out breathless, and his hand begins to trace from your nape to jawline.

Then he taps once. Yes.

“Is it in your bag?”

…Another tap, more hesitant this time. Yes.

So, you pull away, ignoring the whine that escapes his lips, and poke around his bag for the stick.

One beat, then two until your hand finally lands on the item; the smooth contours of the stick feel familiar in your palm and you quickly discard the top with a squeeze.

Then when your gaze finally shifts back to him, you find him regarding you with a deepening frown and hard stare, as if you personally offended him somehow.

“Are you done?” he says flatly, tugging at the fabric of your shirt.

With a chuckle, you beckon him closer by the waist—the latter which begrudgingly complied—and rested your hand on his shoulder, angling the chapstick to his lower lip and shutting him up with a soft grip on his jaw.

Sweet is the word you’d describe when you notice how he subtly melts in your arms: the slight blush on his cheeks —not too visible but just enough where it paints on his skin with a fine coating, and the glint in his eyes as he roams around your face, mouth agape and peering up through his long lashes.

And the worst part? He just watches.

He watches as you move about, deliberately slowing down to spread the formula evenly. The way his hand now found home on your back, his fingers ghosting up and down your spine. Or the way his throat bobs when you adjust your position, stealing glances down at your lips each time you lean back.

Sweet is the taste when you couldn’t help but sneak another kiss as you watch the flutter of his eyelashes shut close without hesitation. The proximity between your faces and the way he follows your mouth even after you pull away: a sugary indulgence.

In contrast to the bitter palate he normally prefers, it was here in this moment where the sweetness rang out into soft giggles and slow touches— into love as sweet as his lips.

One tap. And your finger gently smudges the creamy red tint on his lower lip, matching the one that paints his eyes.

Another tap and he is once again pressing your bodies closer until his smile is rightfully back on yours, both sharing the taste mixed with love and sweet vanilla.

[faithfulren]

care in every explosion

the reader takes care of bakugo when he's injured, showing him a different side of their relationship. despite his initial gruffness, bakugo slowly warms up to the reader's care and companionship. as they spend more time together, the barriers between them begin to break down, and they share moments of laughter and understanding. one evening, bakugo surprises the reader by thanking them for everything, showing a rare moment of vulnerability. the reader realizes how much bakugo means to them, and they both acknowledge the growing bond between them. despite their differences, they know they can rely on each other and support each other through thick and thin.

----

the sound of bakugo's gruff voice filled the air as he hobbled into the dormitory common room, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. you glanced up from your book, concern instantly etching across your features as you took in his disheveled appearance.

"what the hell happened to you?" you asked, rising from your seat and rushing over to him.

bakugo waved you off with a scowl. "it's nothing," he muttered, though his slight wince betrayed his words.

you weren't convinced. "sit down," you commanded, gently guiding him to the nearest couch. "let me take a look at that."

grumbling under his breath, bakugo complied, allowing you to inspect the injury on his leg. It was a nasty gash, deep and bleeding profusely. your heart clenched at the sight, but you pushed aside your unease, focusing on the task at hand.

with practiced hands, you cleaned the wound, ignoring bakugo's protests as you worked. despite his tough exterior, you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as you tended to him.

"there," you said finally, applying a bandage to the wound. "all done."

bakugo's gaze softened as he looked up at you, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "thanks," he muttered gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

you smiled gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. "anytime," you replied softly.

over the next few days, you found yourself spending more time than usual by bakugo's side, helping him with everyday tasks and keeping him company during his recovery. despite his initial protests, he seemed to welcome your presence, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by either of you.

as the days passed, you found yourself begrudgingly tolerating bakugo's presence more than usual. his explosive personality seemed to mellow in your company, and you discovered a side of him that few others got to see. you shared sarcastic banter and competitive challenges, finding an odd sense of camaraderie in your constant bickering.

one evening, as you sat beside bakugo's bed, he reached out to take your hand in his, his grip firm yet oddly comforting. you raised an eyebrow, surprised by the uncharacteristic gesture.

"thanks," he grumbled, his voice rough but sincere. "for not being as annoying as usual."

you chuckled, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "you're welcome, i think," you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

in that moment, as you sat together in grudging companionship, you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to bakugo than met the eye. and as his grip tightened ever so slightly around your hand, you knew that despite his rough exterior, he valued your presence more than he let on.

together, you would navigate the ups and downs of hero training, supporting each other in your own unique way. because in the end, all that mattered was the bond that held you together, strong and unbreakable, just like the friendship that blossomed between you.

----

btw to the person who told me i shouldnt use x readers if the character isnt attracted to them pls tell me what should i put bro like damn u dont gotta call me an asshole n shi 💔💔

[hubbypossession]

"Damn, I can get used to this." I said to my new reflection in the mirror in a new deep baritone voice. "Who knew he was this sexy under those clothes..."

I had perfectly shifted into a replica of my boyfriend's father. I had stayed over at his place tonight and thought it might be fun to use my power while he was taking a shower. After seeing a picture of his family on the dresser, I really couldn't resist. I mean he was dilf... or rather I am a dilf now.

"Babe? I thought I he-! Oh fuck! Dad?! W-what are you doing in my room?!" He exclaimed as he came back into the bedroom naked, quickly covering his swinging dick.

"It's alright son. I let myself in. You can show Daddy your cock if you want. I made you after all." I said slyly, almost losing my cool and giggling.

I was now sporting a raging boner in my white briefs that were clearly too small on my waist now. I watched as the realization dawned on his face and he was suddenly furious.

"Dave?! What the fuck man?! Not my dad! You can shift into anyone and you choose my dad? You don't need to give me a heart attack first thing in the morning. Fuck." My boyfriend sighed as he took a seat on the bed, now refusing to look at me.

"C'mon son. It'll be fun. I won't be sexual if that's what you want. I just really like this body. Please?" I begged. "You know I like impersonating others. I promise I'll be good."

I came up behind him and started massaging his broad shoulders. It was weird now towering over him. I was an 18-year-old twink in my normal body. He looked at me begrudgingly before relenting.

"Alright fine. What did you even want to do anyway? I was really hoping to spend the Saturday with my boyfriend but I guess I can spend it with my dad instead." He complied.

"Up to you sport. We can go for breakfast. Then go to the museum. But I think we should get me some new clothes first, don't you think? I may need to borrow yours in the meantime." I winked at him. "Go get ready. I need to shower too."

"Ugh, gross. You better not be weird about this Dave. I'm already regretting this." He stated as he walked back towards the bathroom.

"Call me dad! And I won't... I'll be good." I called out after him. "Once I'm done jerking my new daddy dick off in the shower first..."

[nyursi]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘!

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  well, the favonius church's choir had a spectacular ensemble. one stood out in particular.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤkaeya alberich.

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, religious themes,  kaeya jacks off to you cause he's horny, drabble.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

Call it irony or whatever, but the fact that Kaeya still attended church while drunk and out of his mind was pretty funny. Of course, considering that Sister Rosaria was no better than the Cavalry Captain— Kaeya let go of all his guilt and entered the Holy grounds anyway.

Besides, spending an hour in here was all worth it, as Kaeya had his eye on a special someone.

You were close with Barbara, and a few months younger than Jean, so your relationship with the sisters certainly helped you settle in Mondstadt. A long time ago, when you first came to the humble city, Kaeya was oddly pleased to see a feline roaming the streets. Save for Diona, who was too busy handling the Cat's Tail.

And you can call him weird, obsessive, strange. But can you blame him? With your honey-toned voice constantly singing during Mass— who could resist the urge to hear more? Truly, locals adored you. Even if there was a whole ensemble in the stands, it was you who stood out and took the spotlight. Kaeya was no better.

It was just another day for him. Rosaria was his close friend, and since she paid for the booze he drank last time, he owed her. And thus, when she asked to accompany her at the Church, Kaeya begrudgingly complied. Really— he was so ready to take a seat and get some shut eye. They arrived a few minutes earlier, so what harm could be done?

Not 5 minutes passed and he was already awoken. "Uhm, excuse me...?" A soft voice he heard. Gentle shaking on his shoulder. Kaeya hummed, not ready to wake up just yet. Nonetheless, he opened his eye, ready to throw some passsive agressive remark at whoever dared to stop his slumber.

But shit.

"Sir? Mass is starting soon, it would be very disrespectful to sleep through it!" Not a word made it through Kaeya's ears, too busy listening to the angelic melody that suddenly praised him when he looked at you. Clothing that those in the Church wore daily, something so innocent, pure and white, somehow became unholy with the way it clung to your figure. He couldn't help the way his eyes trailed down, down, down, til' they landed on your shorts.

Tight and snug. They barely looked like shorts with how high up they were. But Kaeya wasn't complaining— not at all.

And fuck— was that a thigh belt? Kaeya gulped, seeing the shining vision dangling on your thigh. To keep himself from any more thoughts, he quickly looked up at you.

Ah. You were staring.

Did he look weird? Was it obvious he eyed you like some treat? As if he were a kid, drooling for candy? Or did you find him handsome? Attractive like he did you.

"Ah, my apologies. Thank you for waking me up." He chuckled, scratching his scalp as if he were guilty. You crossed your arms and pouted, lips puckered and Kaeya had an urge to suck on them. "It's alright, but please be more attentive. We're starting soon." You reminded, before turning around, heading to the stands.

And if you felt a burning glare on your behind, Kaeya prayed you believed it to be your imagination.

Safe to say that first interaction guaranteed many more to come. Kaeya was greedy, a selfish man who had not one, but two addictions.

Alcohol was just his mistress.

So he kept coming. Anytime he could, Kaeya attended Mass like he was a Saint. Rosaria called him crazy, but he couldn't deny that claim. He would go mad if there was not a single glimpse he could catch of the cute singer.

He found it funny how something so innocent managed to catch the attention of a dirty man.

One time, you made a particular face when the sun got caught in your eyes. Your eyes squinted, lips pulled in a small frown, and Kaeya imagined that to be the face you made if he ever came on it.

Yeah. He was fucked.

At some point his right hand became sore with his nightly activities, accompanied by the repeating scenarios in his mind that fueled his desire even more. Kaeya couldn't wait any sooner.

He wanted you. He needed you.

Kaeya attended the next days Mass, clean as ever. As if he didn't spend last night fucking his fist to you, until the sun rose. Groaning and wishing that it was you around his cock, not his left hand. (He had to alternate.)

He couldn't handle it. Every time he saw you, thoughts would pop up in his head in the most random places. He walks past you in the streets? All of a sudden he imagines breeding you on the cobble path. A glimpse of your cat ears from afar? He dreams of tugging and biting at them. The worst one that ever happened was at Church.

Kaeya frequented the place so much that you eventually grew a friendship. Greeting him whenever you saw the tall, sunkissed, eye-patch wearing man. One time, while waiting for Mass to start, you actually sat down beside him to talk. He had to fight off a boner.

One of the Deacons dropped the long candle, and you, ever kind and pure, stood up to get it for them. Soon as you bent down, Kaeya shamelessly eyed your butt. He always did that, but what caught his eye were your cute little balls, snug against the thin fabric of your shorts.

Either they were that tight, or you decided to go commando.

Kaeya hoped it to be the latter.

Not only was he blessed with the sight of your buttocks, full and plump, but your round balls too. Kaeya wanted to pinch them. Squeeze, suck, fondle, put them in his mouth— he didn't care. As long as he got to touch your sweet cheeks too.

If holding in a boner while taking to you was hard, this was a lot more extreme. Not to mention your cute tail; that dangled and swayed, urging him to pull on it.

"Oh dear! Sir Kaeya! You're bleeding!" You exclaimed, hurriedly taking out a cloth napkin from your pocket. Wiping at the blood that dribbled down his nose. "Are you alright? Perhaps you should miss out on today. Please get some rest."

He didn't even fight back, too shell-shocked at the fact he got a fucking nosebleed from that. But hey, at least he has your napkin!

And if he returns it to you the next day; sticky, crumpled, and wet? Don't question it.

vanillaclaws 2024. do not repost.

[literaila]

I was just wondering, at what point do raider and Gojo get married? And what does that look like for them? Did they elope, or have a very small ceremony? Something extravagant doesn’t seem like their vibe, but was it something like that?

The relationship progressed into something much more romantic overtime, it was so natural to them but taking the next step and getting married, like did Gojo fully propose or was it more like on a random Tuesday Gojo was like “we should probably get married“ and reader was just like “mhm sure”

Sorry for the long ask! I love them sm!!!!

hmm… good question.

for the proposal (the 32nd one, at least) extravagance is not the goal. the entire relationship is already dramatic as can be and you get tired after a while, you know?

it was all fun (not) and games when you were younger but you’re aging now. satoru’s even got a couple of grey hairs (he doesn’t but a little blow to the ego is healthy, okay?)

initially, satoru was going to take you somewhere. maybe dinner, maybe another fair. he probably wanted to get the kids on it—so megumi wasn’t shocked and to entertain tsumiki, and because you’d like it.

he was going to say lots of sweet things, butter you up for an entire day, and then pop the question in typical satoru fashion—overly dramatic and abundantly sweet.

but when has life worked out the way he planned?

instead, it’s a small moment. something overwhelmingly… domestic.

you and tsumiki are doing the dishes, her washing, you drying, while megumi wipes down the counters and satoru watches because he’s no longer allowed to clean.

it’s been at least five minutes, conversation slowing after dinner, when tsumiki asks: “can we put on some music?”

and satoru, ever the sucker, complies immediately.

the songs start out upbeat—something you and tsumiki can sing along to (very loudly).

and it devolves quickly. at first it was a couple of hip pops and maybe some shimmying shoulders—but it turns into a full dance routine as you eventually turn off the water and just spin around with your daughter for a bit.

satoru is standing across the counter and he is all limbs. it’s not his fault that he’s built like an actual insect, but it is entirely hilarious.

and you’re laughing at him, giggling with tsumiki, all while megumi watches out of the corner of his eye and continues to clean up.

(yes, he is the only grown-up in this family).

but the music changes—and there’s soft piano, or strumming guitar—and your laughter bubbles out as the rhythm shifts.

you’re still grinning at tsumiki, smoothing out her hair, trying to slow your heart from all the dancing.

satoru is quick to walk over to you, a hand out, already smirking. “will you dance with me?” he asks you, voice teasing and lithe.

and you shake your head, smiling back just the same telling him: “in your dreams.”

but you take his hand anyway.

all the while, tsumiki is coming up behind her brother, resting her chin on his shoulder with a smile. “megumii,” she sings, completely aware of his breaking points.

“no.”

“c’mon, one song?”

“no.”

“please,” she whines to him, already having won.

and megumi sighs, making a show of rolling his eyes, but he puts down his rag and turns around, begrudgingly taking her hand.

not that satoru or you are watching, of course, already drawn into your own little world.

it’s not a flashy dance by any means. satoru probably does know some ballroom dancing—the pretentious bastard—but you’ve never cared to learn. and why would you when you can just wrap your arms around his neck and hold onto him?

satoru sways you around, and you couldn’t care less about anything else.

if the world has rained all of its hellfire on you just to bring you to this moment, well, your gratitude is implied.

satoru is leaning down just a bit so he can be barely a centimeter away. “are you doing that on purpose?” he asks.

“doing what?”

“stepping on my feet.”

you grin. “of course i am.”

“such cruel beauty,” he tells you, then winks. “but i don’t mind.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

but you don’t push him away, don’t bother to call him six-eyes or poke his stomach.

you don’t want to ruin the feeling of his hands on your waist, or his breath on your nose.

and the song drones on—like it knows to keep you there, a calling card for something different.

megumi and tsumiki have been spinning throughout the room—led entirely by tsumiki. their dance is not oriented or stationary by any means, but tsumiki is laughing and megumi is smirking at that.

though when megumi glances over he notices that the two of you are barely moving. it might be a dance, but it looks more like an embrace, the two of you clinging to each other like megumi has seen many times before.

and he can’t help but slow tsumiki down, calling out before he can really think about it. “gojo.”

satoru’s head twists over, his face questioning, your eyes meeting megumi’s at the same time his do.

and megumi can’t say the words out loud, he can’t explain his sudden impulse, all he can do is nod at his father.

tsumiki is watching her brother with dark eyes.

satoru frowns, confused, but then he looks back to you, to megumi, and his eyes light with realization.

he squeezes your waist, kissing your forehead before smiling down at you. “wait here, okay? i’ll be right back.”

“what?”

but satoru is already moving out of the room, walking down the hall.

you’re standing there uselessly, hands limp by your sides.

“satoru?” you call, but he probably can’t hear you. you turn to megumi with a question in your eyes, tilting your head. “what’s he doing?”

megumi only shrugs.

satoru is gone for thirty seconds before he comes back, still grinning, his eyes only for you.

“what?” you ask him. “did something happen?”

he shakes his head, moving towards you again. he’s quick to pick up where he left off—arms wrapping around you, fingers clutched by your sides. and you reciprocate, even confused.

“satoru,” you say, blankly. “what’s going on?”

megumi and tsumiki are still watching, completely forgotten by the two of you.

satoru’s face is almost breaking with how wide he’s smiling at you, how soft. “i love you, you know?”

“yeah, i…” you frown. “i know that.”

“good,” is all he says, kissing your nose, and finally bending down.

he pulls out the ring before you can blink, but you barely even recognize that, far too focused on him.

you don’t gasp, but tsumiki does. your heart falls and picks back up in an instant, your eyes wide and stuck on him.

on satoru with his stupid smile and bright hair and breathtaking eyes. the person you love most, almost despite yourself.

“i love you,” satoru says again, like it’s important. and he was going to make a speech, was going to convince you of something more—but he can’t remember any of it now. he’s not even sure where he is, who he’s supposed to be. but he knows you—he always has. “okay?”

you blink, nodding. “i know that,” you whisper to him, so softly.

he grins. “will you, then?” satoru murmurs. “marry me?”

after that there are no words. it’s just you tackling him on the ground, satoru protecting your head as you fall, and you desperately nodding into his neck as you curl into him. the ring falls somewhere on the ground—you’ll find it later.

and tsumiki is practically bouncing towards the two of you, making wordless exclamations, bright and happy as ever as she lays on top of both of you.

megumi stands back, arms crossed, but he’s smiling, anyway.

finally, he thinks.

*

the wedding is very small. im thinking 10-15 people depending on how many students they have at the time.

it’s when megumi is 14ish, so year… 8?

it’s outdoors with lots of sparkling lights, simple, beautiful clothes, and a stupid man who is still smirking at you like he did when you were fifteen.

“i told you you’d fall for me,” satoru says, leaning just too far away to kiss.

and you shake your head at him, reaching up to pull his hair. “shut up,” you say, and kiss all of his words away.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[togamest]

spring's temptation

Three times Kisaki Tetta attempts to confess to you, and one time it works…a little too well. -> 5,211 words. gn!reader (reader wears heels to a party), fluff, mutual pining, slow burn, texting, college universe/au, hankisa-centric, mentions of throuples/polyamory. pet names ("pretty girl", "doll") -> a/n: love a good slow burn moment. this is VERY very selfship coded...this may or may not have been modeled off of a text convo my partner and i have had in the past...whose to say! no smut/nsfw this go around, just good old fluffy slow burn. my entry into the enchanted forest network's spring feelings collab!

INSTANCE #1: March 21st, 2005

Your eyes crack open to the sound of a lone mourning dove, cooing as it takes its place on a telephone wire, nestling next to its companion in the bright morning sun. It’s…warm. Warmer than it’s been the past few days. There’s a peek of pink and green from behind your curtains, asking to be let inside.

Your bed is soft, but with a groan, you arise, slamming your alarm off by smacking your phone screen and rubbing at your eyes. The smell of breakfast creeps into your nostrils as you get dressed, and a ping from your phone catches your attention as you check the screen.

Shuji <3

Ready yet, doll? We’re here.

Sure enough, two sets of bike tires faintly squeak against the asphalt, Shuji’s high-pitched giggle echoing through your now-open window that you release the lock on, pushing the curtains aside. Your two boys are down at the edge of the fence, Shuji pocketing his phone and looking up at you with a massive smile. His companion doesn’t make eye contact with you, fiddling with his shirt instead, his glasses slowly sliding down his nose.

Kisaki.

You wave at them both, a grin to match Shuji spreading across your face. “Be down in a minute!” you call to him, and he nods, elbowing Kisaki to look up at you. He complies, begrudgingly, a blush flushing his cheeks as he looks up at you. He waves at you, and you cheekily blow a kiss at him, to which he flushes an even deeper scarlet and looks away. Shuji’s laugh echoes in your ears as you shut your window, making your way downstairs.

Your mother greets you quickly, making sure you have everything you need, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as you leave the house, bounding down the stairs and grabbing your own pink and blue bike to join the boys.

“There’s my pretty girl,” you hear Shuji say, walking up to you and leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, pushing your hair behind your ear. You giggle at it, your face a little warm as you take a sniff of the surrounding air. It’s spring, all right; there’s the scent of freshly cut grass, the sharpness of Shuji’s cigarettes, and the clean linen scent of Kisaki’s laundry detergent hanging in the air around you.

Speaking of, the boy in question seemed to be hanging back today. You peer around Hanma to take a look at Kisaki, who almost looks like he’s pouting. “What’s up, Tetta? Need some attention?” you coo at him, and he snorts, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, don’t treat me like a baby,” he says in a low voice, but you can’t help walking the two steps over to him and giving him a hug. His arms don’t wrap around your own, but you can feel his heart absolutely racing against you.

Hmm. Weird.

Hopping on your bikes, you make your way to the bakery around the corner for some fluffy confections. Your mother has always waggled her finger at you for doing so, complaining that you’re going to rot your teeth before you’re twenty-five, but you simply laugh and take a massive bite out of whatever pastry your eyes were set on that day.

Today, it’s blueberry scones.

They’re fresh, the daily special, the scent of warm bread and blueberry drifting through the air as you three pull up to the storefront, hooking your bikes up before wandering in. Hanma takes his place right behind you, a large hand splayed across the small of your back, with Kisaki next to you. Your arms brush every so often, and you can almost feel a flinch.

Mega-weird.

The woman behind the counter gives you a soft smile when she hands you your bag of treats, and you return it before exiting with the two boys following you closely. The breeze that hits you as soon as you walk out is ethereal, like that first sight of a daffodil peeking out from the snow, or seeing the suggestion of cherry blossom bulbs beginning their push through the trees’ branches.

“Wish it could be like this forever,” you whisper, and Hanma moves in front of you, his face so close to your own with a massive grin on his lips, giving you a wink before moving to his bike. You turn to look at Kisaki, who has obediently stayed back behind you and Hanma during the exit, but seems to not know what to do now, looking down at his feet.

“Right, Tetta?”

You saying his first name causes his head to jerk up, before he scrunches his nose. “I guess,” he says slowly, his words heavy. You roll your eyes, grabbing his shoulder with one of your hands, the other occupied with the bag as you flash him a smile, to attempt to get him to give one back to you. It almost works; you can see the hint of one tugging at his face.

His mouth opens.

“Yeah. I wish it could, but maybe it’s a good thing that it won’t.”

Huh?

He says nothing more, moving to his bike to unhook it, Hanma already ready to go. “Come on, doll, you’re gonna make us late!” he shouts, and you huff, placing the bag on your bike’s carrier in front before mounting it yourself. You three make it to campus with plenty of time, Hanma’s claim of being late a far cry from the truth as always; he never failed to be the most dramatic of you three.

What Kisaki said somehow still weighs on you, and not even the still-warm blueberry scone in your hands can dispel the peculiar sense that weighs in your chest.

Shuji <3 [5:32 PM]

Hey doll you seen Kisaki anywhere

You [5:34 PM]

nah why

Shuji <3 [5:40 PM]

Haven’t seen him in a few days. Kinda weird, right? Like I’m not trippin

You [5:42 PM]

no that’s not like him to ignore u. are u sure he’s not just at summer camp?

Shuji <3 [5:45 PM]

No, I checked his house because I’m a psycho :p and the cars are still there

You [6:17 PM]

hmm well maybe just leave him alone maybe smth went wrong at home

Shuji <3 [6:18 PM]

I guess……………

Shuji <3 [9:46 PM]

You ever notice how he looks at you?

You [9:47 PM]

huh??? the fuck does that mean

Shuji <3 [9:48 PM]

Nothin. Just feel like something aint right

You [10:20 PM]

shuji ur literally overthinking rn im sure he’s fine

Shuji <3 [10:31 PM]

Hmm. Alright. See you tomorrow doll <3

You [10:31 PM]

<3

INSTANCE #2: April 10th, 2010

Five years, and now you’re head of the garden club at school as a freshman in college. Of course, Hanma and Kisaki both made it into the same university, and you’ve all been enjoying freshman year with everything you have. You’ve both grown closer over the years, naturally; but that feeling you had with Kisaki all those years ago has since festered. You’ve pushed it away, consistently, but it never fails to linger. Hanma doesn’t notice, or is ignoring it, and frankly, you’re relieved about that. The last thing you want is him jumping down your throat about it.

You wander through the rows of colors, letting your hand drift across all of the soft petals as you approach the small outhouse, grabbing one of the straw hats left for the volunteers. You wrap an apron around you as well, tugging gloves on before you hear a cough behind you.

You almost jump six feet in the air as you whip around and come to face—

“My God, Tetta,” you say, exasperated, your hand on your chest in mock surprise, “don’t scare me like that! You could’ve just asked to come with me today, you know.”

There’s a hint of blush on Kisaki’s cheeks as he pulls the books in his arms closer to him with a tch and a roll of his eyes. “I guess, but it’s a public garden,” he points out, the know-it-all in him becoming even more loud, “anyone can come in and out. You should expect visitors.”

He’s right, he’s always right.

You wave him off anyway, handing him some gloves and a trowel. “Well, since you’re here, I’ll put you to work. I’ve got some flowers to plant where the pansies died last year, and I’ve dug them up already, so I’ll need your keen eye to know if I’m planting them correctly.” The sentiment in your voice is clearly not lost on him, as he all but throws his books into the outhouse next to your bags and tugs on the gloves, following you like a puppy as you move through the rows, landing on an empty bed with fresh soil.

It’s quiet, the activity; he pulls the flowers out of the store-bought plastic containers, and you tuck them into their new place, patting them once as you go to make sure they’re solidly planted into the soil. The bed becomes a flush of color as you both make quick work of it, with reds and yellows and purples exploding across the empty space.

There’s a problem plant that Kisaki ends up dealing with, whose roots have made it almost impossible to pull out. He’s been struggling for a few moments now, continuously trying to get it out and then reverting to another sprout and returning to the stuck plant after. Seeing his frustration caked with dirt on his face makes your chest flutter just a little bit as you reach over—

Your hands make contact, and even through the gloves, you feel a spark.

Your hand moves back unconsciously, almost yanking it to your chest as you play it off with a laugh, but Kisaki’s eyes go wide as he looks at you. There’s a beat of nothing, before he nervously laughs with you. “Must have some static electricity,” you say, attempting to smoothen out the awkwardness as you reach for the plant again, “but let me.”

He hands it to you, and you slip it out as easily as if it were never stuck at all, his jaw dropping and eyebrows scrunching in anger. “Well,” he begins, and he stutters as you look at him with an eyebrow raised, patting the problem child into the dirt, “I-uh-I just loosened it for you. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat back to him, but there’s no malice in your voice. The blush on his cheeks is even more red as he looks away from you, grabbing the next flower to remove from the pot, refusing to say more.

The sun is still high in the sky when you finish the bed, and it looks gorgeous as you sit in front of it, sharing water with Kisaki. His hands freed from the gloves, he reaches out to brush against the petal of a snapdragon, the cherry red contrasting nicely with his emerging tanned skin.

“Antirrhinum.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Bless you?”

He laughs, then, a genuine laugh that you hadn’t heard in a while. His mood around you hadn’t gotten worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either, since that day at the bakery. You still don’t know why he’d been acting so weirdly, why he said that he wished things would change; it had been five years, you’d think you’d know by now. Why did he think that? Were you and Hanma not enough for him after so long? Did something happen at home? Did—

“It’s the genus that snapdragons are from. It’s ‘cause they look like dragons when you squeeze them. They’re actually not compatible with themselves, a lot of the time. They can’t self-pollinate.”

You nod, humming. “Sure know a lot about plants, huh?”

Kisaki’s face couldn’t be redder or he’d look like a tomato. “Yeah. One of the weird things I like to study, I guess.”

You’re not sure what prompts you to move, but you do, so your hand is covering his own. Skin touching skin, the spark isn’t there, but there is an odd sense of warmth. The peculiar sense comes back again, one that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not weird or wrong, just…odd. Nevertheless, you don’t move away, and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet, and it’s like time is suddenly frozen, waiting for a choice to be made. You can’t help but flicker down to his lips and back up, and you can tell he’s noticed as his white teeth appear to bite down on his bottom lip gently.

You cough, moving away, going to remove your hand. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, gripping onto your hand so you can’t remove it. “Don’t be. We’re friends, right?”

The smile he gives you doesn’t reach his eyes.

There’s the peculiar feeling again, tightening your chest.

Shuji <3 [9:26 PM]

Alright, doll, enough fuckin around.

You [9:26 PM]

huh????

Shuji <3 [9:27 PM]

You invited Kisaki to do the stupid garden shit with you and not me? :(

You [9:27 PM]

oh my god u idiot he literally just showed up of course i had to put him to work

Shuji <3 [10:08 PM]

Yanno if it were me I’d think you’re fuckin with him on the side

You [10:09 PM]

WE ARE FRIENDS OMG

Shuji <3 [10:10 PM]

You sure about that?

You [10:11 PM]

YES???? why should i not think that???

Shuji <3 [10:20 PM]

Come on, you gotta notice. He’s not the best at being subtle

You [10:21 PM]

i rly don’t know what ur talkin about here but if he rly thought that i’d hope he would have a convo w me about it instead of brooding like an idiot as u seem to say

Shuji <3 [10:42 PM]

HAHA yeah. Hopefully he grows some balls and does something about it.

You [10:43 PM]

ABOUT WHAT????

Shuji <3 [10:45 PM]

Nothin. Gnight doll <3

You [10:46 PM]

ugh fine gnnnn ilysm

Shuji <3 [ 10:50 PM]

Love you too

INSTANCE #3: MAY 15th, 2013

“Kisaki!” you slur, your drink sloshing in its container as you stumble your way over to him. Hanma is behind you, one of his large hands keeping you steady as he meanders over with you, a matching grin on his own face as you both adventure over to your third, who is currently sitting at the bar nursing his only beer of the evening, scowling.

“What’s got ya so bummed out, huh?” Hanma asks, resting one hand on the bar and the other on your shoulder as you slide in front of him, between the two men, your eyes sparkling as you look up at Kisaki. His glasses are new, clear frames that make him look more mature. He’s forgone the buzzcut he used to have, instead opting for an undercut. No more dyed hair, either, at least not at the level he used to have. The highlights are more exact, a barber having done them rather than a fourteen-year-old rebellious boy.

He looks good. Too good.

Hanma has also changed quite a lot, although not to you. To you, he’s still the possessive boyfriend he’s always been, goofy and laughing and never taking anything seriously. He’s also opted for shorter styled hair, being much less ridiculous than his “skunk haircut” that you forever teased him about. However, he has a look that he gives Kisaki, one that you either hadn’t picked up on before or that you simply hadn’t noticed…

It looks like yearning.

Kisaki takes a sip from his beer before looking at Hanma. “You know this stuff isn’t really my style,” he drawls, a finger circling the rim of his glass, “I’d much rather be at home, honestly. Reading a book sounds like a much better use of my time.”

You clap your hand on him, ignoring the flash of shock in Kisaki’s eyes. “Come on, Tetta,” you whine, “life isn’t just about books. It’s all out here! Waiting for you to explore!” You brandish your arms around you, gesturing at the bar’s dance floor, crammed with sweaty bodies and solo cups and tongues inside of wet mouths, filthy noises barely being dulled by the horrifically loud bass echoing around the room.

Luckily, where you three are, it’s relatively quieter. Sofas line some of the walls. There’s a girl grinding on her choice for the night, her cherry red lips leaving faint marks on his cheeks as they kiss sloppily. There’s a hint of drool on his chin as his hands move to grab onto her hips, moving her gently against him, grinding her down onto whatever is hiding in his pants.

You tear your eyes away, only to see both Hanma and Kisaki staring at you. “What?” you exclaim, shrugging your shoulders, but the alcohol has a grip on you now. You need someone to touch you, and whether it’s Kisaki or Hanma, it seems to not matter to your horny brain. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every moment that passes.

Your logical brain, however, goes for Hanma, due to the fact that he’s your partner, your lips brushing against his neck. “Kinda wanna go home,” you whisper against his sweaty skin, and you feel his throat rumble as he laughs, pulling you close to him. “Sorry, doll, this is my party,” he says, “but lucky for you, I have a good friend willing to take you home, since he wants to go so badly.”

You look over at Kisaki, who looks like he’s staring daggers at Hanma. There’s a beat of silence between them, tension hanging in the air so thick that you could cut it with a knife, when Kisaki sighs, finishing his beer and extending his hand. “M’lady,” he says, a smile on his face, and you follow him happily, planting a kiss on Hanma’s lips before you go. “I’ll let you know when I’m home,” you shout back, and he nods, lifting the glass at you and blowing you an air kiss.

The walk home is slow as you stumble, eventually ripping off your heels and choosing to walk in your bare feet. Kisaki doesn’t notice, moving a few paces ahead of you. Once he realizes you’re no longer right next to him, he looks back at you, and then at your feet, and—

“Jesus, why are you walking barefoot? Come here.”

You don’t get a chance to say anything before he’s picking you up, slogging you onto his back in a forced piggyback ride. Your heels thud lightly against his chest with every step he takes. “D’you work out or somethin’?” you slur, your cheek resting against his shoulder, your breath on his neck. He nods, effortlessly huffing as he adjusts you without you even doing anything, a squeak falling from your lips. “Tetta!” you exclaim, giggling, and you can feel his smile without even seeing it.

“I work out so I can make sure someone as pretty as you gets home safe without a scratch.”

Pretty. “Pretty,” you say slowly, weighing it on your tongue, “I s’pose I am. Thas’ a weird thing to say about your friend, you know.”

You’d always joked with Kisaki that you were just friends. Sure, he got touchy when he was drunk, and he did do things for you that felt boyfriend-level, but it was nothing serious. Hanma was always there, anyway, clearly the boyfriend in charge with his loud voice and raucous laugh taking up the space that Kisaki himself left for him. They’d been good to you, both of them; they’d always been good to you.

Your apartment appeared much faster than you wanted it to, having felt so content being carried by Kisaki that when he set you down in your entryway, you almost collapsed to the ground. You giggle at the mistake, picking yourself back up and dusting yourself off, before looking up at him.

You’d have thought he’d been looking at the stars with the way he looked at you in such fascination. You ignore it. You have to ignore it, because you can feel that peculiar feeling rearing its head again. It had been years since you’d felt it, so why now? What about right now, other than the alcohol flooding your veins, made you feel like this?

“Thanks for, uh, for gettin’ me home,” you say, breaking the silence and picking up your heels and going to move further into your apartment, but a hand lands on your arm. There’s a plea in Kisaki’s eyes when you meet them, but it’s gone before you fully realize it.

“You’re welcome,” he chooses to say instead, “make sure you drink some water.”

He disappears before you can respond, the door clicking shut behind him.

When the refreshing water hits you, after you meander into the kitchen and fill a glass, the realization does too.

The peculiar feeling, the feeling you’ve felt every time you come into contact with Kisaki. The feeling you had all those years ago when he’d mentioned how he wanted things to change. The spark between you two that felt so much more than just static electricity jumping from one’s skin to the other. The fact that he took time out of his day to come help you at the flower gardens (which you never questioned, either, oddly enough).

It all pointed to one thing, one staggeringly shocking revelation that you almost can’t fathom as you slide onto the linoleum floor.

You were in love with Kisaki.

Kisaki was in love with you.

And you, despite your best efforts, were in love with Kisaki and Hanma.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You [1:02 AM]

u fuckign bas tard u were rIGHT the wh OLE time

Shuji <3 [1:04 AM]

Hmm? Really? What was I right about?

You [1:05 AM]

TETTA

You [1:05 AM]

HES IN LOVE W ME ISNT HE

Shuji <3 [1:06 AM]

Oh, yeah. He’s so fuckin bad at hiding it it’s kinda funny

You [1:06 AM]

WHY DID U NOT

You [1:06 AM]

TELL ME

You [1:06 AM]

WHY DID U NOT SAY ANYTHIGGGGGNNG

Shuji <3 [1:10 AM]

I have, so many goddamn times. You just didn’t wanna see it <3

You [1:12 AM]

FUCK

You [1:12 AM]

what do i do shuji. what the fuck do i do

Shuji <3 [1:13 AM]

Well, you still love me, right?

You [1:13 AM]

yes god i would never not love u im so fr

You [1:13 AM]

but wtf am i supposed to do about being into him too like how does that work

Shuji <3 [2:05 AM]

Well, there’s a lot I gotta tell ya.

You [2:06 AM]

like what????

Shuji <3 [2:17 AM]

You think you’re the only person out of the three of us that likes him?

You [2:17 AM]

like………

You [2:17 AM]

WAIT

You [2:18 AM]

LIKE LIKE?????

Shuji <3 [2:18 AM]

God, I love you but you make it sound so fuckin weird lmao

You [2:18 AM]

I DIDNT KN OW U WER ENT STRA GIHT

Shuji <3 [2:25 AM]

Surprise lmao

Shuji <3 [2:25 AM]

So I’m guessin u can see how this is gonna work right

You [2:26 AM]

that,,,kinda makes it a lot easier

Shuji <3 [2:26 AM]

Yeah duh. Worryin for nothin. I love you but goddamn lol

You [2:27 AM]

oh my god shut upim gonna go to bed and pretend this didnt happen

Shuji <3 [2:27 AM]

You can try doll. But we’re gonna talk about it eventually.

You [2:28 AM]

yeah yeah okay gn i did make it home safe btw

Shuji <3 [2:30 AM]

Yeah Kisaki told me. Knew he’d keep ya safe considering he’s in love with you

You [2:31 AM]

FUCK OFF GOODNIGHT

Shuji <3 [2:31 AM]

Goodnight doll <3

INSTANCE #4: MAY 31st, 2013

Having your boyfriend know that you’re in love with his best friend and also having the realization that he is also in love with your best friend is, frankly, a best case scenario for the ridiculously comical love triangle that you find yourself in now.

Neither of you have said anything to Kisaki, of course. It’s been a few weeks since the party, and you’ve both concocted a plan together; to drop hints and see how long it takes Kisaki to realize what’s going on. Given his innate ability to read people, you both bet that it’ll take him a week at best.

A week stretches into two, then three. Consistent touches are met with a smile but nothing more, helping out around his apartment gets a “thank you”, but he’s not giving either of you any room to move further or even bring up a discussion. It’s a bit ridiculous, actually, and while you know Hanma can last forever when it comes to a good slow burn (particularly if it involves Kisaki), you do not have the same patience.

It’s a wine night after you finish your junior year of university when it all comes out.

You three are piled up on the couch, and you unstick yourself to move into the kitchen, sighing as you pour another glass of wine. There’s a sound of shuffling, before you see Kisaki enter the kitchen with you, pouring his own glass. “It’s good, right?” you say, swirling your glass up to the light in mock analysis as he grins, the wine flushing his cheeks a sweet pink.

“Sure is,” he says, and the silence that fills the space after is…a little awkward.

“Say, I wanted to thank you for, you know, not making things weird.”

Your gaze moves from the glass to his face, and with the drunken flush on his cheeks it looks like he’s finally grasped onto a string of bravery.

“Weird about what?”

There’s a clink as his glass lands on the countertop. “Calling you pretty. Was just a slip of the tongue, I’m sorry. That wasn’t right.”

“Ever the example of honesty, I see,” you joke, sitting on the countertop with the glass. You can hear the TV in the living room slightly lowering its volume, and you know for a fact Shuji is listening in. Why wouldn’t he? The look you gave him after you left the room, the wink he’d tossed your way, he knows what’s going on.

Kisaki swallows so harshly that you’d think he was attempting to swallow an apple whole. He looks as if he’s debating on what to say, how to respond to that, because you know he’s not being truthful. He doesn’t know that you know, though.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long, because he takes a deep breath, and out it comes.

“I’m tired of pretending that I’m not into you. It’s a lie, it’s a massive lie that’s been poisoning me for years and I am so exhausted with pretending that I don’t feel something for you.”

You stare at him in mock shock, trying your best not to laugh.

He immediately backtracks, his hand brushing against the back of his neck. “Fuck,” he whispers, “fuck, I’m sorry, now I made it weird, I know you’re with Shuji and I shouldn’t have said anything, I know, I—”

“God, Tetta, shut the fuck up for once,” you finally say, snapping. The resistance that you’ve held the past couple weeks has suddenly crumbled, watching him stumble over his words and ignore the love he has for you based on…what? Your commitment to Shuji? You’re basically a throuple anyway, it’s like he’s been blind to it all. Blind to the love that you and Shuji have for him.

He looks at you with real shock, and you roll your eyes, tugging on his shirt to bring you closer to you, slotting between your legs. “Shut up,” you repeat against his lips, and you crush yours against his own.

He’s speechless, unmoving, like a statue as you kiss him, slowly, gently attempting to unravel his nerves that are bubbling underneath his skin. Slowly, he softens in your hands, meeting the motions you’re giving him. He cups your cheek and tilts your head and his tongue slides in, skating across your teeth. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. The restraint is off, disappeared, dissolved in the space between you two.

He’s shuddering against you, like he can’t believe he’s doing this, but like he’s so excited to finally kiss you and break through whatever mental block he’s put up. He’s panting against you, red-bitten lips pounding as he looks at you. There’s so many emotions in his eyes; betrayal, shame, lust, excitement, all colliding in a wild kaleidoscope.

“Sorry.”

His voice is raspy, and he goes to move away, but you lock your legs behind him so he can’t move. He stiffens, looking back at you with surprise as you lean back, your palms flat on the countertop as you roll your eyes. “Tetta,” you respond, in a sing-song voice, “don’t apologize. I liked it.”

“But Shuji—”

“Are you stupid?”

He slowly blinks in confusion. “M-Maybe?” he stutters, alarm in his voice, and you giggle.

“You know he likes you too, right?”

There’s a snort that breaks the air, and Kisaki’s head all but whips to the kitchen entrance as he looks at his newly-emerged friend, brushing his long fingers through his black and blonde locks, grinning.

“Silly Tetta,” he teases, walking up to you two, “silly, silly Tetta. How are you so goddamn analytical but you can’t tell when both of your friends are in love with you? Fucking idiot.”

If Kisaki could get any redder, he’d be morphing into a tomato as he looks down at your lap, suddenly incredibly embarrassed. “I-I don’t know what to say,” he finally confesses, and you cup his cheek in the same way he did to you moments ago, pushing his face to look at you. “You don’t have to do anything right now,” you say to him softly, “but I would like to snuggle some more with you both, if that’s okay.”

Shuji laughs, swinging an arm around Kisaki and dragging him back into the living room. “C’mon, love,” he calls behind him, and you follow, bringing the wine glasses and placing them on the coffee table as you collapse onto the couch with Shuji’s head on your shoulder, Kisaki’s on your lap. Your hand falls into Kisaki’s hair as the other removes his glasses, and he hums, shockingly fine with the way events are progressing given his embarrassment earlier.

“Just me and my boys,” you giggle, and Shuji can’t help but laugh, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Kisaki joins him, brave again, kissing your other cheek.

Your face hurts by the end of the night, having the two men you love more than anyone draped over you. It’s more than you could ever ask for.

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2023-2024

[junislqve]

⟡ stay in my memories

when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you

pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works

note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this

YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.

when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.

you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-” 

“hi, babyy” 

your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.

it was his voice that did. 

his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.

how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.

it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor. 

you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back. 

“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap. 

a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”

“let’s break up”

you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.

“what?” 

“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years” 

“so?”

“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated. 

“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”

“you’re twisting my words”

“that’s exactly what you said, jake” 

“i’m sorry”

no he’s not. 

“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.

there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you. 

your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.

everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder. 

every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.

you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.

for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.

you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.

you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.

you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.

“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.

he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.

you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.

“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.

“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it. 

“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.

you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.

he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.

when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch. 

“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in. 

you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”

“i know you’re sober”

it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.

“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.

“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.

“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”

“you should leave” you look away.

“please”

“jake”

“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”

maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in. 

he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.

you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains. 

you rolled over, the space beside you, cold. 

you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.

the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.

‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry

-love, j’

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[chocsra]

"I'm glad you understand me, though."

15! Dazai x fem! doctor! reader

a/n: sorry I haven't been posting! school starts on tuesday and i am not prepared to deal w these shitheads 🤧 (update, its friday and they are no new fine boys 😔😔)

to all my dazai fans 🫶🫶 also im working on a 15! chuuya x reader oneshot atm too!

also @sosograndii who wanted a dazai fic 😭 also lmk if any of you want a platonic! fem! reader x pm! dazai where its like "when I say I like all women you might actually be the exception" bc that would be hella funny

content: being teenagers, oneshot, swearing, mentions of suicide, injuries, dazai being dazai, reader is lowkey suicidal too, Mori is kinda creepy beware 😨

"Mori?"

"Yes, Dazai?"

The brunette adjusted his white cast, scribbling doodles on the supposed paperwork he was supposed to do. He currently sat across from the Port Mafia boss, Mori Ougai, who was folding Elise's clothes attentively in his leather seat. Dazai shifted and set down the chipped pencil he usually chewed on, facing him properly.

"Do you think there is anyone else in the mafia who rivals my skills?" The Demon Prodigy asks, it may seem like an arrogant or overconfident question, but the boy has been used to being a genius at such a young age; it was rather a question out of genuine curiousity.

"Besides me?" Mori 'charms' with a smile, not so charmingly earning a scowl from Dazai in return. "Yes, besides you." He grumbles begrudgingly, slumping in his seat thinking what to draw next. "No, not at all." The mafia boss states with full confidence, "You are my pupil, afterall." Dazai groans again, dropping the pencil yet again before yawning. "Not every intelligent person is of your work, Mori." He retorts with a bored face, causing the grown man to exhale loudly. "Fine. I suppose there is one person who may be up to your level."

Dazai's ears perked up, turning to Mori interested. "Who?" The man in the white lab coat adjusted his purple tie, fluttering his eyes shut mindlessly. "A girl your age, she wants to be a doctor just like her Boss." He smiles genuinely, causing Dazai to sigh in irritation.

"Yuck."

Yuck.

Is what you thought as you stare at the lanky boy who rested on your procedure chair. He was battered and bruised, previous bandages and a large cast wrapped around his left arm stained with sweat and blood; you put on a pair of gloves before grabbing a few tools to clean him up. He was a boy about your age, or so you thought, he was tall and lanky, a black suit with an oversized black overcoat messily draped upon his shoulders. He had messy brown hair thst framed his face, one eye wrapped around bandages along his face; shame, his eyes were a pretty sight.

"Where is your boss?" The brunette asks, watching you attentively as you grab his hand and begin to wipe his beaten knuckles, pushing the bandages wrapped around his hands up. "Out. I'm supposed to take over Mori's job while he's gone." You inform, scooting your chair closer in order to clean all the gashes on his hand. "Oh. So you're that girl?" You cock a brow, turning to look at him.

"That girl?"

"Mori's pupil."

You finish wiping one of his knuckles and dispose of the cloth, motioning the boy to remove his arm bandages before the cut bleeds again. "Oh. I guess." You quip, causing him to tilt his head in interest. "What's your name?" The brunette asks, complying and removing his stained arm bandage, placing it gently on the chair; you picked it up and disposed it yet again, grabbing disinfectant wipes as you wipe his knuckles once more. "[Y/N] [L/N], you?"

"Dazai Osamu, I'm fifteen." You nod politely, wrapping a new set of bandages around his hand. "Cool, me too." Dazai's eyes light up a bit at your responses, "I know." he nods, extending his other hand to repeat the same process.

"So," you pause, carefully applying the new bandages on his other hand, they were quite cold to the touch. "what happened to you?" Dazai sighs, tapping a nimble finger on the hospital chair. "I was trying to kill myself," Your eyes widen a bit at the honesty, giving a casual nod as if it were an everyday occurrence. "However, I didn't know that there were a few men who held grudges against me at the end of the river, so I had to take care of that." He answers, you gave a listening hum at his story.

"That's interesting." You reply, causing him to raise his brows a bit; looking at you as you get up and lift his messy bangs, urging him to take off his facial bandages. "Yep, I'm assuming you get a lot of cases like me?" You wipe his bleeding forehead, causing him to pinch a brown eye shut, "Not exactly; but I mean, I understand you."

Dazai tilted his head in confusion, crimson blood collecting on the abrasion on his forehead; he seemed rather amused yet surprised. "You do?" the boy asks, you nod your head in response, finishing cleaning the wound. "Elaborate, please." he requests, his brown eyes almost sparkled into yours. As if you two weren't terrifying mafia members, as if the world just for a second; stopped to understand a few dumb teenagers in weird situations.

"Who wants to live in this world anyway?" You ask rhetorically, chuckling a bit as you grab a few bandages and carefully guide them around the side of his face. The brunette for a second, was caught off guard; no one underestimated the Demon Prodigy, the greatest mistake for Dazai's enemies is that, they're Dazai's enemies, no? But, this time it was different, just one sentence and accomodating gesture, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Weridly enough, Dazai hummed in satisfaction and fluttered his eyes shut.

"I see." He replies, you finished wrapping the bandage around his head and take off your gloves, feeling satisfied with the mutual agreement. "[Y/N], right?" the brunette asks casually, causing you to nod your head in agreement. "Yeah."

"Would you like to elope out of the mafia with m-"

Dazai Osamu, that fucking womanizer.