#go check it out it's pretty short and sweet until it isn't

[liz-on-leash]

Hit us with that muffin top kink ;)

Could have done better with this one but oh well, consider this an exercise for a kink that I just discovered has a term for it, lol.

You spot Natty, strutting her stuff down the hallway, her thick frame barely filling out her skimpy outfit. 

Her flat stomach, barely covered by a cropped top, jiggles slightly as she walks, revealing a hint of what you crave—that soft, plump muffin top. 

You feel your dick twitch with anticipation. This Thai slut is gonna get the fucking of her life.

As she passes by, you grab her by the arm, your fingers digging into her delicate skin. 

Natty lets out a startled squeak, her big eyes widening. "Ugh, what the fuck are you doing?" she hisses, trying to sound tough, but you can see the fear in her trembling body.

"Shut the fuck up, you fat bitch," you growl, tightening your grip until she winces.

Dragging her towards an empty dressing room, you throw her inside and slam the door shut. The room is dimly lit, perfect for what you have planned. 

Natty tries to back away, her eyes darting around for an escape, but there's nowhere to go.

"Please, no, fuck..." she whimpers, her voice shaking. "I-I.. Don't hurt me."

You laugh, a deep, menacing sound. "Oh, I'm gonna hurt you, you fucking tease. Been showing off that hot body on stage, making fans drool over that goddamn waist and those plump thighs. But you know what I want, don't you?"

Natty's eyes flicker down to her midsection, and she swallows hard. "N-no, please..."

Without warning, you deliver a sharp punch to her exposed midriff, the sound of your fist connecting with her soft flesh echoing in the small room. 

"Oof!" she grunts, her body folding over as she clutches her stomach. You've barely warmed up, but already her eyes are watering from the pain.

"That's right, bitch," you snarl, grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her to look at you. "You're gonna take this punishment like a good bitch.”

Kicking her legs apart, you tower over her, your boots inches from her face. "Check out that fucking muffin top.” You run your hand roughly over her distended belly. "So fucking soft and squishy. Bet it jiggles like a bowl of jelly when I pound your cunt."

Natty whimpers, her face contorting in humiliation and pain. You lean down, your hot breath against her ear. "Gonna mark this pretty delicious body, make it clear who owns this sweet meat."

Your fist connects with her stomach again, and again, each blow leaving a red imprint on her pale skin. She's crying now, snot and tears mixing as she begs for mercy. But you just laugh, spitting in her face.

"Begging isn't gonna save that pretty belly of yours, slut. Gonna punch and kick it until it's black and blue, till you piss yourself.”

You pull back your leg and deliver a brutal kick to her abdomen, the force lifting her off the ground. 

Natty screams, a high-pitched sound that fuels your sick desire. She's writhing on the floor, clutching her stomach, but you're not done yet.

"Scream for me, bitch," you pant, your dick throbbing with excitement. "Feel that pain, feel it deep in your gut. Going to make you hurt so good."

As you stand over her, ready to deliver another blow, you notice a warm wetness spreading between her legs. 

Natty's eyes are squeezed shut, her face contorted in agony. She's pissing herself, just like you wanted.

"You filthy whore," you whisper, your voice hoarse with barely contained lust. "Let it go, let it all out. Feel that shame.” 

You give one last vicious kick, and her body goes limp, her cries turning to whimpers. Her jean shorts are soaked, the smell of urine filling the room. You stand there, catching your breath, admiring your handiwork. 

"Fucking perfect," you mutter, stroking your aching cock through your pants. Natty's soft, abused body lies at your feet.

You're buzzing with excitement, ready to claim this bitch's body and mark it as your territory. You kick off your pants, freeing your rock-hard cock, already leaking pre-cum. 

Natty's eyes go wide as she realizes what's about to happen, her fear-filled gaze locking onto your throbbing member.

Then you rip her shorts, the fabric tearing easily under your strength, exposing her plump, shaved pussy. Her pussy lips are swollen, already wet with her piss. 

You can't resist the urge to touch, so you reach down, smacking a handful of her cunt, squeezing it roughly. Natty lets out a pitiful whine, her body trembling.

"Fucking love it when they're this wet," you grunt, your fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Been dreaming of this tight Thai pussy, just waiting to be fucked raw."

Your other hand goes to her top, tearing the flimsy fabric, baring her ample breasts. Her tits are perfect, big and round, with pink nipples that stand erect from the cool air. 

You slap one breast, then the other, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. Her back is arching, but you just laugh, enjoying the power you have over her.

"Such pretty tits, shame they gotta get ruined," you say, squeezing and twisting her nipples until they're red and bruised.

Natty's body is a mess of red marks and bruises, her cries filling the room as you continue to abuse her. 

But it's time to take this to the next level. Positioning yourself between her legs, you line up your cock with her pussy, the head pressing against her swollen lips.

"Stay away… Don't rape me..." she begs, her voice vibrate from screaming and pain.

Ignoring her pleas, you thrust forward, penetrating her in one motion. Natty screams, her body convulsing as you fill her tight cunt. Her pussy is hot and wet, gripping your cock, but you don't hold back, pounding into her hard.

"Oh fuck, take it deep, you bitch!" you grunt, gripping her soft waist, the flesh spilling over your fingers. "Feel my big cock in your guts."

With each thrust, you watch her tummy jiggle, the soft flesh rippling with every stroke. The sight drives you wild, and you pound into her harder, your balls slapping against her ass. 

Natty's screams turn to incoherent babbles, her body shaking as another wave of urine escapes, soaking the floor beneath her.

"Keep pissing yourself again," you groan, loving the degradation. "This sweet pussy is mine now, and I'll fuck it till it loosened."

You reach down, gripping her hips, pulling her onto your cock with each thrust, making her meet your vicious pace. 

Natty's eyes are rolled back, her mouth open in a silent scream as you violate her. Her body is yours to use.

As you feel your climax building, you quicken your pace, your balls drawing up tight. With a deep thrust, you explode inside her, your cock twitching as you empty your load deep in her abused cunt. 

Natty's body spasms beneath you, her cries turning to whimpers as she comes down from her pain-induced high.

Pulling out, you admire your handiwork, your cock still semi-hard and glistening with cum and pussy juice. You slap your wet dick against her swollen tummy, spreading your seed, making her skin slick and sticky.

[momentomori24]

First drawing of the year! Hoozah! Anyway, in celebration of the yttd fangame It Was A Sunny Day Outside here's Shin and Maple, happy and with no Midori in sight. After that ending, I just want them to be happy honestly...

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. 

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say. 

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him. 

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this. 

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he��s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay. 

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look. 

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what. 

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him. 

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval. 

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori. 

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him. 

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild. 

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

 Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe. 

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit. 

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator. 

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again. 

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin. 

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly. 

Love. Love. Love. 

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call. 

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you. 

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks. 

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable. 

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.  

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately. 

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame. 

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat. 

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?” 

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it. 

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable. 

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do. 

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is. 

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans. 

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks. 

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved. 

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

[meownotgood]

WEEK ONE — masturbation + aki hayakawa, 18+, gn!reader, jerking off, pillow humping, sexual fantasies, edging, a hint of degradation, aki just can't help his feelings for you

kinktober masterlist

Everyone knows Aki has a crush on you. 

It's as obvious as it could possibly be. He's always staring, always coming up with any excuse he can to slip away from work for a while and come talk to you. He leaves frequent gifts on your work desk: notes in his handwriting, flowers or snacks or souvenirs he got for you from Hokkaido. 

He's unusually awkward when your name gets brought up in conversation, he's jittery whenever you're around — The last time you tagged along on the division's monthly drinking night, Aki was practically a mess, choosing to drown himself in as much alcohol as he had the pocket change to order, simply to keep from losing it because you'd sat next to him. Of course you had to sit right next to him. 

You've kept him infatuated for forever now. The thing is, Aki doesn't care if he's obvious. You're so pretty, he thinks. He's thought so from the very beginning. You're pretty and interesting and smart and it isn't his fault; he really can't control how his heart flutters and his head goes dizzy every time you talk to him, it just happens. You just have that effect on him. 

He can't help but feel shy every time you call his name in that sweet voice of yours; so polite, sticking to Hayakawa-sir even though he's told you before that you can use his first name. You grin every time, and you explain, But you get embarrassed when I call you Hayakawa. He can't help it when his face turns red all the way to the tips of his ears because you're teasing him, giving him a hard time for how stuttery he's getting. 

You were particularly teasing today. Aki knew you must've been in a good mood from the moment he arrived at headquarters. You held him by his arm, you cooed praises into his ear for how hard he's been working lately. Told him if he ever needed a break, he could come to your office any time he wants to and you'd give him a massage or make him some coffee. You insist. 

Maybe that's why he can't sleep right now. 

He's tried to get some sleep this time, he seriously has. He hates when he's like this. When he finds he's unable to stop thinking about you, he'll try everything he can to wind down and make himself forget. He'll go for a run to try and get his energy out, take an ice cold shower, smoke until his lungs are burning to attempt to quell the noise in his mind, and yet tonight, none of that has worked. 

Nothing can chase away those thoughts of you, those memories of your pretty face and your teasing hands. Nothing convinces his heart to stop pounding within his chest. Aki tosses, turns. His sheets rustle and his mattress shifts underneath his weight. 

It's a real conundrum. He's felt hot all over ever since he climbed into bed. His face is warm, he's practically sweating. Turning again, he takes a quick glance at his alarm clock, the screen reads 11:54 which is several hours since he first attempted to sleep and a few minutes since he last checked it. 

You were touching him so much today. So much, more than he's used to, even for you. No-one else ever touches him like that, nobody ever hugs him, holds his hand, makes him feel wanted. He wonders if you know how worked up you get him, if you can tell his heart is racing, or know the reason why he's shifting is because his slacks are getting tight. 

11:56, now. Aki's head is spinning. 

This is stupid, wrong of him, even. He's not super close to you. You're just one of the Public Safety office workers. If he wants to be technical, he could be considered your superior, actually. A superior fantasizing about one of the little devil hunter assistants. He's terrible. 

Aki can't help but yearn to feel your touch elsewhere, everywhere. He needs it, needs you, warmth buds in his core and there's a steady ache between his legs. He was short on breath before, when you'd grabbed his arm and pressed real close, and even now, just from thinking about it, he's — 

Fuck. Aki twists, rolling from his side onto his back, he rubs his knotted up temple with his finger and his thumb. It's too much. You're going to be the death of him. 

His breath comes out heavy and shaking and loud in his ears. His chest rises up and down, his trembling fingers slip under the blanket, then underneath the waistband of his sweats, and his heart begins to pound faster in anticipation, hammering against his ribs.

He hesitates for a second. In the end, he gives in like he always does. Shame pools thick in the pit of his stomach, but it isn't enough to stop him from working his hand down — His palm brushes the soft fabric of his briefs, he gropes the shape of his cock through his boxers and he's already stiff. He sighs, he lets his head toss back. 

You'll forgive him for this, right? You'd forgive him for getting hard when all you did was barely touch him, and for using thoughts of you to get himself off, wouldn't you? He's just so lonely, so stressed out, that's all this is. You have to forgive him, you have to understand. Aki swiftly decides you would, because he can't wait any longer; he's been needy like this for hours upon hours now and at this point, it's far too late for him to stop. 

Aki pushes the blanket away, he tugs his sweats and his briefs down to his thighs at the same time, he hisses when his cock comes free. Slowly, he wraps his palm around, and he brings his thumb to the head, rubs it slow, feels himself throb steadily in his hand. 

He's already dripping, precum beads in droplets at his slit and dribbles down to dirty his knuckles, each of his fingers. There's wetness sticking to his palm. A disgusting sound echoes as he pumps himself, up and down nice and careful, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

It feels so fucking good. Aki groans in pleasure, immediately forgets how perverted this is, he closes his eyes, thinks of you. He isn't the type to do this, he's never felt this way about anyone, he doesn't even touch himself because he's never had a reason to — but you've changed everything. 

You're the reason for this, and when he's got his cock in his fist, you're all he can think about. He imagines your touch, your voice, your warm breath on his skin. Aki tries to picture how it'd feel to kiss you, to press his lips on yours and have your tongue in his mouth. How it'd feel to hold you, to have you be the one to jerk him off. 

Your hands are so perfect; Aki's memorized the way they look, the way they fold when you're writing or grabbing his arm or holding your drink. They're dainty compared to his, they'd probably feel softer, so much gentler. Ever since a few weeks ago, he's fallen into the habit of using his left hand to touch himself as opposed to his right. It's clumsier this way, but it's easier to imagine his hand is someone else's, yours. 

Your soft hand around his dick, stroking him just like this — Aki doesn't know if he'd be able to last. If he'd even be able to look at you, let alone talk, let alone do anything but plead your name.

Your fingers are so pretty, you'd complimented him once, Aki remembers how you sat next to him and intently watched him sign paperwork like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He'd shaken his head and written you off then, but he wants to know if you'd compliment him again, if you'd still think so when his fingers are cradling your face or pushing past your lips. 

Would you still think he's as pretty — his fingers wrapped around his cock, his hair down and how you like it, his earrings you say you like so much glinting in the low light — if you saw him like this? 

He wonders if you'd tease him the same as you do at the office. Oh, Mister Hayakawa, you've been wanting this for so long, haven't you? You're so fucking dirty. How long have you been jerking yourself off every night to the thought of me? So damn needy, you just want me to take care of you, huh? 

Yeah, he's dirty, he's rocking his hips into his grip, he's whining and sighing soft gasps of pleasure, louder than he probably should be. He's pumping his fist faster as he pictures your face down between his legs; you'd look precious with your hair tucked back, your lips would feel as plush as he'd imagined and you'd stare up at him with such an innocent expression, your eyes practically sparkling as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He can't take it. Aki pants with weight behind every breath, he twists his wrist and squeezes, pumps even faster and thinks he just might lose his mind right here — and then, he takes his hand away. 

He lets go, his dick falls against his stomach and he keeps one hand in his hair and the other beside him, despite how badly his nerves are screaming for him to keep touching. He allows his breath to even out, stares at the ceiling and waits for his mind to clear.

He doesn't want to cum yet. Not when it's only been a few minutes. If he cums now, he'll probably get too exhausted to cum a second time. So he can't, not right now, not when he has more he wants to think about. 

Twisting over on his side, Aki brushes his bangs away when they fall messily around his face. He presses his palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat trickling from his skin. His fingers twitch. He debates what he's about to do for a few seconds.

He shouldn't, it'll be a hassle. But when he knows how good it's going to feel, he can't resist. Hurrying, he lifts his head and grabs his pillow from underneath, he adjusts, burying his face in the sheets when it starts to feel warmer. He situates himself on his stomach, pillow firm between his legs. 

Deep, slow rolls of his hips cause him to forget any of the sense he was still holding onto. He exhales hard, shakes even harder. Aki fists the sheets in a tight hand, he leans his head into his forearm, he grinds his aching cock against his pillow until his thighs are beginning to hurt.

If he was more confident, confident enough to tell you how he feels, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if you knew, you'd let him fold you over his bed and fuck you just like how he's been dreaming of, slowly and dizzyingly tender, enough to make him forget about everything else. Maybe. If he's good. God, does he even deserve it? 

Either way, it doesn't matter what he wants. He'll do whatever the hell you ask him to, whatever you'd be willing to give him he'd be happy with — He'd be content just fucking the space between your thighs, or having you talk to him while he gets himself off and humps his pillow like a pathetic idiot; anything you want, whatever you want. As long as you're there, as long as he can hear your voice and feel your touch, and not be so alone. 

The smooth cotton of his pillowcase is slick and wet with his precum. His cock is throbbing incessantly, pleasure spreads through his entire body and he doesn't care that his mattress is squeaking, that he's losing rhythm. He breathes heavy with every rut of his hips and imagines you're here, you're beneath him. 

Arms strung around him tight, you'd lock eyes with him and he wouldn't dare to look away. Feels so good, you're perfect, Aki, you'd praise, and he loves your praises, You wanna cum? Oh, but you can hold out for a little longer for me, can't you? 

Aki shivers. Of course. If you're the one asking him, he just has to. Especially when you call him Aki.

Aki, that's it, keep going. You're so sweet, so good for me. I belong to you. I'm all yours, forever and ever. Does that make you happy?

You're his, all his. You'd sound so perfect moaning his name as he bullies his cock into you. His first name, his and no-one else's, no extra politeness or honorifics. You'd say it softly as he slides inside, say it when you're begging him to fill you deeper, repeat it when you're telling him he's got to beg for you if he wants to finish. 

C'mon, Aki. Cum for me. Give me all of it. 

Yeah, Aki mumbles out loud to himself, his voice is breaking, he thrusts his hips with reckless abandon, I'll give you everything, oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum… 

He shoves his face into the bed as much as he can manage to muffle his noise, his fragile moans and loud whimpers. His shoulders tense, muscles aching. A few more shallow movements and he's done; he chants your name over and over again as he finishes, cumming all over his pillow and his sheets, thick ropes of white dirtying the fabric, making a mess. 

Falling limp, Aki lays like that for a while, catching his breath. Everything begins to fade, working through to tiredness. He should get up and shower, wash his sheets and his pillowcase, but he's so exhausted he can't even manage to move. 

He feels warm all over again, just less intense this time. Aki realizes he was saying your name as he came. Embarrassing. He can only hope he wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear. 

He'll fall asleep now, at least, with warm thoughts of you to fill his head. A date with you would be nice sometime. Nothing too crazy. He'd take you anywhere you wanted to. He also wouldn't mind taking you back to his apartment and making you something for dinner, whatever you'd like. 

If you were here now, he'd hold you as close as he can get you, breathing soft and slow while drifting off silently, his arms wrapped secure around your waist.

He's almost asleep. But —

Ah. He'd forgotten he has to work at the office tomorrow. So he's going to have to face you, first thing in the morning. 

The next time he sees you, he doubts he'll be able to do much talking. But he'll get busier soon, there's a lot of devil hunting missions coming up. Who knows when Aki is going to see you next, so if he doesn't tell you his feelings soon, when will he? 

He's decided. Tomorrow, he's going to ask you out. 

[eilorow]

Horny Hunk - Car

Caden was sitting in his car, exhausted after a workout with his best friend Thomas, who was way more athletic than him, but would always go out of his way to bring him along and give him tips. That sweet attitude might be the reason Caden had a pretty big crush on him, though he would never admit it. Thomas was a chick magnet, and wasn’t shy about it. So, Caden was happy just being his gym buddy, and tried to stop himself from checking him out too much in the changing room.

He saw Thomas making his way to his car. “You’re in a hurry,” he said, getting inside. “Well, I didn’t know your showers lasted 20 minutes,” Caden shot back playfully. “Hey! The girl at the reception was checking me out, so I went and got her number,” his friend replied, showing the little piece of paper. “I see, so you’re just desperate to get laid.” “Maybe you should try, you know, your dream guy isn't gonna just show up, you have to talk to people sometimes,” Thomas said with a smirk. “All right, shut up now, before I leave you on the sidewalk.”

-----

They had been riding for a few minutes, not saying much, until Thomas pulled out his phone and started admiring himself. He never took pictures, but he did love looking at himself, especially after a workout. Caden glanced to the side as he was styling his hair up and looking into his own eyes; he couldn’t help finding it attractive. “Dude, check out these biceps,” Thomas let out with a chuckle. He was flexing his arms repeatedly, showing his noticeable progress, glistening with sweat. Caden tried not to look again, but couldn’t help sneaking a peek. He loved how big they were, and yet still defined…

“Shit!” Caden thought. He was starting to get an erection, and this was not the time nor the place. “Stop doing that,” he said. “You’re being weird.” “You’re being weird!” Thomas replied. “You’re not even complimenting your friend’s awesome gains.” Caden kept his eyes focused on the road, but felt more and more uncomfortable in his seat. “You should feel them, bro, they’re so tight-” “Stop that! I am not touching you!” Caden snapped, though he was blushing slightly. Thomas grinned even wider, finding his reaction funny. “Come on, man! You don’t like it when I do that?” He grabbed his friend’s wrist and brought his hand to his chest. “Feel that, dude. Real muscle.” “Dude, stop!” Caden was actually getting horny now, and had to quickly turn his flasher on and pull over to the side of the road. “Cade, why are we stopping? I’m just messing with you!” Thomas said, playfully punching him on the shoulder. But Caden wasn’t paying attention anymore. He grasped the arms of his seat, a familiar feeling stirring inside him.

Caden tentatively glanced down at his crotch, and saw what he expected to see: his boner was straining against the front of his shorts, visibly getting bigger. He groaned as his transformation began. His hands widened slightly, gripping his seat even tighter, while his arms started packing on muscle rapidly. He tilted his head back, making a whining sound that slowly got deeper. His throat thickened slightly and his chest widened, better adapting to his large arms. Caden groaned again as he felt himself getting taller and felt his pecs filling up, his loose tank top now barely reaching his waist. A hint of abs, more than he ever had, was peeking from under it. His legs stretched too, his thighs getting bigger and his calves gaining definition. The young man, feeling his feet pushing against the front of his shoes, pointlessly tried taking them off by rubbing them together. He then had to spread his legs apart to make space for his bulge and his growing asscheeks.

Thomas was watching the scene, bewildered, and started getting scared, not knowing what was happening to his friend. At this point, Caden was almost as big as him, if not bigger. He tried exiting the car, but his door was locked. As he tried reaching over him to get to the lock, his friend grabbed his wrist with his right hand, his fingers thickening and strengthening his grip. He brought it down to his chest, and slid it under his tank top, on top of his pecs. “You should feel them, bro,” Caden said in his new deeper voice, smirking cockily. Thomas couldn’t help but admire the two mounds as he felt them ballooning under his touch, growing full of powerful muscle. He looked up at the growing man’s face, seeing his friend’s boyish features hardening into squarer, more manly shapes. A hint of stubble also covered part of his face. At this point, Caden was fully enjoying his transformation. He grunted and flexed his arms as he grew again, arms becoming powerful rods of muscle and shoulders bulging outwards. His shredded 6-pack abs were clearly visible just above his widening waist and remarkable cum gutters. He had to pull his legs up slightly as he grew taller again, his thickening thighs making it somewhat difficult. Two loud tearing sounds could be heard as his feet burst out of his training shoes, now several sizes too small. A third ripping sound was heard as his ass grew into a large bubble butt, tearing his shorts right down the middle and freeing his large erection that was nearing 9 or 10 inches now, by how it was tenting the front of his underwear.

Just as Thomas thought the growth was over, Caden let out an even deeper groan. His neck became incredibly thick, his shoulders broadened to the point where he barely fit in the driver’s seat, and his pecs blew up again. It was a miracle his tank top was still intact; it was stretched out over his chest and powerful back muscles, and his pecs were jutting out from the sides. It didn’t even reach his abs anymore, stopping right above his chiseled 8-pack. His legs, already confined in the small space, lengthened one last time, bringing him easily over 6’6. Below them, his feet finished their steady growth, tearing apart his short white socks. Finally, a last ripping sound was heard as his underwear gave way and his enormous 12-inch jock cock erupted from its confines, pointed straight up, the swollen head already leaking pre-cum. Thomas stared at it, feeling his own erection straining his shorts, almost against his own will.

Cade, the hunk, horny in an almost feral way, grabbed Thomas by the back of the head and shoved him on his throbbing member. He struggled to even fit the thing in his mouth, because of how long and thick it was, but he started hungrily swallowing and licking it, experiencing the salty taste for the first time. Cade closed his eyes in bliss, pushing out deep moans from his enlarged throat. It didn’t take long before he pulled Thomas off and shot ropes of cum, again and again, all over his dashboard, tilting his head backwards and bellowing out a last groan. Thomas, seeing his friend’s humongous dick spurting cum with such intensity, came on the spot. They both panted, out of breath after their simultaneous orgasms.

-----

Caden sighed, using yet another tissue to clean the cum off his dashboard. He was back to normal now; it never took him too long. He shot a disgruntled look at Thomas, who still seemed a bit shaken and out of breath. “When I tell you to stop, you have to stop. You understand why, now?” Thomas nodded, looking at the stain at the front of his shorts. “I can’t believe you had to find out about this,” Caden added, annoyed, but blushing slightly. Thomas looked over. “When were you planning on telling me?” he asked. “Never!” snapped Caden. “It’s not the sort of thing I bring up in the middle of a conversation, you know. I don’t tell anyone that doesn’t need to know.” Thomas looked at him again, a smirk on his face. “Well, now that I know… Could we do this again sometime?”

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

The short adventure's of Bonten's no4: the door

Bonten x f reader

Warnings: slight manga spoilers, suggestive content, 18+

Summary: You're Bonten's first female member, their skilled and deadly no4. So surely you can have one peaceful day off right? Just to unpack your new apartment?

---------------------------------------------------

The door

A fresh start.

Today is the day, the day you're moving into your new apartment. You even took the day off work to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible today. Today is going to be perfect. 

Walking around your new apartment, you can't help but admire it. This place really is perfect for you and decorated just how you like it. But the best feature is the door, you spared no expense when getting a new door installed, with this one being the best. It's practically impossible to pick the lock, it's too heavy to be kicked down and even came with a small camera so you can watch when there's movement outside. So basically it's bonten proof. This place really is perfect and you have the whole day to unpack and get yourself settled in.

Meanwhile

All of bonten aside from Mikey and you were forced to attend Koko's latesr financial meeting. It never seemed to end. Everytime they thought Koko was about to finish he'd then start going on and on about something else. They were all sick of it. But just as Koko was about to start ranting (something to do with people leaving the lights on) Sanzu spoke up.

"Hey isn't today the day y/n get's her new apartment?"

And with that it's already decided between them, time to check in on their dear y/n and her new place. After all, seeing you is much more interesting then this meeting.

-

You were just starting to unpack the kitchen boxes when you heard it. Someone trying to open the door...

Sneaking across the apartment as quietly as you can, you grab a bat before heading towards the door and checking the camera. Only to find Sanzu attempting to pick the lock as the other's watched. You drop the bat with a sigh and call out to them.

"Hey what are you guys doing here!?"

They all look startled for a moment, wondering where the voice is coming from and how you knew they were there. Seeing their shocked faces was pretty amusing at least.

"We came to surprise you!"

Of course Ran is the one to answer, grinning at where he thinks the camera is (he's off by a few cm).

"By breaking into my apartment!?"

"Attempted break in, Sanzu isn't done yet!"

Rindou cheerfully calls out. He's about to say something else when Sanzu suddenly curses, saying he can't get the door open and giving it a kick to let his frustrations out. 

They all pause in shock for a moment as you grin from your side of the door. And decide to have some fun with them, sweetly you call out

"You guys could've just knocked or rang the bell"

Sanzu immediately knocks after, impatient to get inside.

"Are you going to let us in now?"

"Nope ♡"

Having the power to mess with them like how they always mess with you really is fun.

Suddenly loud banging is heard against the door as Sanzu repeatedly kicks and hits at it, demanding you let them in. 

"No thanks, I'm busy!"

Ran calls out next, asking what you're busy with and if they can help you with it, trying to sweet talk his way inside. But he's just interrupted by Sanzu again.

"Open this door right now!" If you do it now then we'll go easy on you but the longer you leave us out here the worse it'll be for you! Open up little bunny or the big bad wolves will blow your house down!"

"I'm pretty sure the wolves blow the pigs house down not a bunny's and the answer is no!"

You hear a few of the guy's stifling their laughter at your response. But judging by the amount of banging against your door after that, Sanzu didn't like it so much.

Everything suddenly goes quiet. 

Peering at the camera you see Sanzu shuffling around for something in his pocket as the other's watch with various expressions. Until he pulls out his gun with a triumphant laugh and points it at your door.

He wouldn't! .....would he?

Luckily Kakucho snatches the gun from him before Sanzu makes the whole neighbourhood aware of their presence. Sanzu looks ready to fight him for daring to touch his gun, but then Ran murmurs something you can't hear and they all leave. Finally leaving you to continue on with your unpacking, that door really is great!

*frantic knocking on the door*

Or so you thought, just as you make your way back to the kitchen you're called back to the door again. Sighing, you check the camera's. Immediately spotting Rindou knocking on your door while Takeomi lays on the floor???

Rindou looks at the door frantically and knocks like a crazy person, he seems actually upset?

"Y/n quick! We need your help, it's a medical emergency! Open the door and help us, Takeomi is dying!"

Takeomi lies still on the floor with his eyes closed, you can't tell if he's breathing or not. But you don't see any obvious injuries...

"What's he dying from?"

Rindou looks startled by your question  probably expecting you to just rush out instead of questioning what's actually going on. You roll your eyes at this, of course you didn't get to the position of no4 without questioning things and being cautious first.

"Uhm uhhhh old age?"

You don't even get the chance to reply to that answer because as soon as the words leave Rindou's mouth, Takeomi is off the floor and angrily running at Rindou, cursing him for saying that. Rindou laughs and runs off, making Takeomi chase him and leaving you and your door alone again. 

-

You spend the next 20 minutes making good progress with unpacking the kitchen, until you hear it again. Knocking on your door. This time the knocking is calm and doesn't last for too long, it sounds almost formal.

Checking the camera, this time you see Koko standing outside. Calling his name, you ask him why he's here.

"I came to talk to you about urgent work business"

You quickly remind him it's your day off, but that doesn't seem to matter to Koko. Instead he starts telling you about how urgent the business is and how you have to know about it right away, so you need to open the door. But somethings off about him? He seems kind of sad or like he's not really trying?

"Hey Koko, is something wrong?"

You never expected your question to lead to this, but you end up hearing all about how Koko planned a meeting this morning only for everyone to ditch it and for him to get dragged here.

"Sure I wanted to see you too and the new place and maybe even spend some time alone together but I put a lot of work into preparing for that meeting!"

Koko ends up sitting on the other side of the door to you and venting through the door for awhile until he feels better. Then he calmly get's up, thanks you for your time and says he looks forward to seeing you tomorrow then walks off. Once again leaving you alone.

-

You cheer as you finally finish unpacking the kitchen, it took ages but at least you got to finish it in peace. Now on to the living room, but just as you was about to start, it happens again. The door bell rings, telling you you're no longer alone.

This time as you check the camera you see someone you don't immediately recognise. A really big guy in a jacket covering all of his clothes, as well as a hat hiding his face.

"Uhh who is it?"

"Pizza delivery"

"I didn't order a pizza?"

It's definitely another trick to make you open the door, and judging by that guy's height, it's definitely Mochi out there. He pauses before he answers, probably unsure of how to respond to that.

"It's been ordered for you?? An apology pizza! A bunch of cool looking guys ordered it for you!"

"Why aren't you holding a pizza then?"

He quickly walks off after that.

Your stomach growls in protest, damn them for making you think of pizza now. They could've at least brought a real pizza with them!

Not even 5 minutea pass before there's another knock at the door, maybe they actually did come back with pizza? But this time it isn't Mochi standing at your door but Kakucho. He gives the camera a little wave, waving at the exact right spot. You're about to call out and ask what his plan is to get inside but he speaks first.

"We miss you"

You're pretty surprised by this, so say nothing. 

"That's why we came here today, the hq just isn't the same without you there. We all really miss you and just wanted to see you again."

"But you just saw me yesterday?"

"So? You're one of us, we normally see you so often that even just missing a day makes us feel empty. I know the last time we saw your apartment things got pretty messed up but I think the guys all learnt their lesson from that and it won't happen again... I'd really like to see you too."

Maybe letting them in wouldn't be too bad? You realise you've actually missed them too today, sure they get on your nerves but you never feel lonely with them around and it's clear they really do care about you. It was pretty quiet before they came along...

You're about to open the door when you suddenly hear another voice.

"Heyyyy sweetheart, you gonna let us in now?"

Ran Haitani.

Kakucho looks like he's about to speak up again but instead Ran pats him on the back and whispers something to him, making Kakucho walk off with a sad look. 

Ran then grins again, continuing to look at the wrong part of the door as he speaks.

"Just the two of us now, the others all left. So why not open the door for just me? We can have fun together with just the two of us."

"Just the two of us? Please everyone else is probably around the corner, waiting to barge in as soon as I open the door"

Ran's grin fades for just a second before he smiles at the door again, winking.

"You have such an active imagination sweetheart but nope, it's just me. You really think I want the others around to witness this or the sounds I'm going to pull out of you?"

You gulp. Weakly replying that you have no idea what he means, admitting to it or how it makes you feel is much more embarrassing. 

"Oh? I think you know exactly what I mean sweetheart. How you're going to cry out under me as we try out your new bed together. Just open the door. Unless you want the other's to hear? Maybe we could even invit-"

His phone suddenly rings, cutting him off and saving you from your embarrassment as well as the hot feeling overwhelming you.

"......ah....yes.........I understand............ of course boss"

The person on the other end of the line doesn't talk much, making the call just a short one. As soon as it's over, Ran looks back at the door and sighs.

"Maybe next time huh?"

He then walks off.

You lean against the wall for a moment, trying to forget the words he just said and how they make you feel. Maybe you're done with unpacking the rest of the day? Just relaxing seems like a much better way to spend the rest of your day after all that. You walk back into the living room, looking forward to just watching your favourite show and maybe eating some sna- 

"Hey"

You let out a small shriek as you find Mikey sitting on your sofa and eating your snacks as he looks at you curiously. 

"How did you get in here!?"

---------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

Mikey just stares as you freak out and look around to try and figure out how he possibly got in here. Once you finally settle down opposite him on the sofa, he offers you a sweet from the bag he stole from your snack supply.

"Nice place here, quiet when the other's go away"

You find yourself nodding, still in shock upon finding your boss somehow in your apartment. 

"You should still invite them all here at some point though, they can help unpack"

You say nothing, not wanting to voice how bad of an idea it would be for all of them to go through your stuff.... again. Mikey just hums. 

"These are good, you should taste one"

You're not sure how Mikey moves that fast, one minute he's sitting across from you and the next he's pressing his lips against yours. 'Helping' you to taste the 'sweets'. 

So much for your alone time.

Thanks for reading!!!! ♡

Previous chapter Masterlist

[gor3-hound]

lipstick

ada wong x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, cheating, oral(f!recieving), fingering

a/n: just a short drabble couldn't get ada out of my mind so here lmaooo.. not great tbh it's just word vomit!! but hope you like it regardless :)

Ada isn't sure how she got here - her face buried deep between Leon's girlfriend's thighs. She had only come to the Gala for the purpose of gathering information, and she hardly expected to see Leon there.

He's checking her out as soon as his eyes find her. She's not surprised in the slightest. Her and Leon have always been a little complicated, to say the least. He flirts with her a little, and she pretends not to notice.

Her nonchalant demeanour crumbles when you approach, sweet as anything. Her eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as you hook an arm around Leon's and give him these bright doe eyes, peering up at him through those fake lashes of yours.

He doesn't deserve you. Not when he'd been ogling Ada all night. You're not even jealous to see them talking. No, you're instantly complimenting Ada on her outfit, gushing over meeting one of Leon's ‘friends’.

Yeah, you definitely deserve better than him. What an asshole. She can't believe he'd even entertain the thought of hooking up with her when he had you on his arm. Not that she'd agree, but with you? That was a different story.

She waits until she can get you alone. Even watches closely to make sure Leon is fully out of sight and out of mind before she's dragging you off to one of the secluded rooms in this oversized mansion.

She tells you what happens, comforts you as you come to terms with the news, and somehow… ends up pushing you back against the table and eating you out like she'd been starving. You make the prettiest sounds, your perfectly manicured nails carving marks into the wood as you dig your fingers into the surface, chipping your nail polish.

She shifts back to admire her handiwork for a moment. Your pretty thighs are marked up with her lipstick, and she can't help but smirk at the sight. It's not long before her head dips down again, black hair cascading around her as she dives back into your pussy.

Her tongue flicks against your clit eagerly, teasing the swollen bud. You can't help but moan, your hips bucking up into her face. She draws back slightly with a chuckle, pushing your hips back down onto the table.

“Don't be so impatient, baby.” She tuts, kissing her way up your thigh again. “I'll give you what you need.”

She holds you down on the table now, her tongue dipping between your wet folds. She laps up your juices, tongue pushing in and out of your tight hole before she slides it up, flicking the wet muscle against your clit once more.

She flattens her tongue against it before she wraps her lips around the sensitive bud and sucks it into her mouth. You feel her hand sliding up your thigh, two fingers teasingly circling your dripping hole before pushing in. She curls them once they're sheathed inside, finding your sweet spot with ease. You feel her grin against your pussy as you whimper and arch your back, knowing she's got you.

She continues to massage your spongy walls with the tips of her fingers, thrusting them in and out as she suckles greedily on your clit. The more you moan, the more you encourage her. It's not long before you're mewling her name, rocking your hips between her face and her fingers.

“O-oh… Ada! I'm gonna… fuck-” You manage to whine, back arching as you cum all over her face. She keeps going until you're twitching with oversensitivity, pulling her fingers out of you and sucking them clean.

“There we go. Forget about that loser.” She says with a grin, wiping your juices off of her chin with the back of her hand. She looks down at the pinkish red marks, letting out a sigh of mock-exasperation. 

“Baby. You messed up my lipstick.”

[daengtokki]

hi again! ~

i'd like to request yandere/obsessive seungmin. it's a concept that's been eating me alive for the past few days!

if this falls outside your comfort zone, please feel free to ignore! ❤️✨

love your blog! okay bye ~ 🥰🫰🏽

Thank you for being so patient! 🤍 This flavor of Seungmin is a first for me, so I definitely spent a lot of time overthinking. Hope you enjoy him!

Yandere!Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 5.2k

rating: explicit/18+

contains: manipulation, a little stalking, humiliation/degradation, choking (sexual & non sexual), reader is a little into it. overall typical male yandere things, so please keep that in mind when reading...

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

He isn’t taking anymore input on the matter. Seungmin is done, he’s standing, and he’s ready to go. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits impatiently, and you can already see what’s happening between his legs. He’s still soft, but he pulls the front of his sweats tight so you can better see what you’re obviously staring at.

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

Seungmin watches you closely from his side of the table—arms crossed, legs spread open. You can see the soft flesh of his inner thigh peek out from his shorts, and when he moves, it moves, and staying on your side of the table gets a little more difficult with every passing moment. You hardly know him, and yet...this is tough. It's been four weeks since you met, and that in itself seemed like pure luck.

He looks at you like he has you all figured out.

. ✦ .

He was here, in this cafe, waiting patiently on a date that definitely stood him up. An hour had gone by since he arrived, and you watched him sit there, sipping his coffee, checking his phone...wringing his hands. It was obvious what had happened before you worked up the nerve to go over there, but you did. You abandoned the laptop and the work you'd been mostly ignoring (to look at him), and you cautiously walked closer. Had the cafe been any busier, you might not have, but there was nobody there to see you embarrass yourself except for him.

He smiled at you immediately when he noticed you walking toward him, but he was still surprised when you stopped and stood there, thinking of what to say. Even though you went over it in your head for the last twenty minutes, you were still stuck on an opener.

Seungmin spoke first, in perfect english, and his voice was so soft and pretty. "Hello, are you getting a lot of work done? You look very busy over there."

"Yes," you laughed under your breath, "I'm sorry to bother you—"

He shook his head, "No...not, um...you're not bothering me. I'm not busy," his eyes drop to the napkin he'd been tearing into pieces.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"I was, but I don't think they're going to show up"

You were right. Stood up. Whoever decided to not show up was missing out on a very pretty face. "Would it be too..." you switched to Korean very briefly, "Can I join you?"

He nodded quickly, and his smile grew a little, "yes, I don't think my date will be interrupting us."

"I'm sorry they didn't show up"

"I was feeling very down, but I think I'm better now...my name is Seungmin."

. ✦ .

Lucky.

He clears his throat and bounces his knee, "what did you wanna talk about?"

"Us"

"Yeah? I like us. We can talk about us.”

Still he sounds so sweet, so smooth.

The shy, well mannered boy at the cafe isn't here, though. Actually, he wasn't even at the cafe. You were both polite and respectful, but he matched your flirting perfectly, and you were both calm and reserved…until you took a walk an hour later and he fucked you in the park.

The sun had just set, and almost everyone had cleared out when you felt his knuckles drag up the back of your arm, and there was no denying it—you wanted it from the moment you laid eyes on him. And you did exactly what you imagined: hung on desperately to his shoulders, gripped his neck, dug your nails into his back as he held your thighs apart and fucked you slowly. You let him fill you up—you watched him slowly pull out, and felt his cum start to leak before getting on your knees and begging him for more. And he gave it to you.

Afterward he walked you home, and you invited him up, because you didn’t want to let him go just yet. There was no more sex, but he kissed you and touched like he already loved you.

“Are you mine?” He whispered into your ear as he kissed and bit at your neck, . “Hm, yeah, you are…I want you.”

“Lucky me. I want you, too.”

--

He leans back even further and stretches his arms over his head. A pale line of his tight stomach peeks out from under his shirt, and you watch it like you haven’t seen it before—haven’t touched it, haven’t tasted every inch of it.

“This was fun, but I’m not sure it’s gonna work”

The fall of his face is so fast, so dramatic. You didn’t think he would be so surprised, to be honest. It’s only been a month, but nearly every day together is enough time to figure out that things just don't fit.

“Not going to work?” He sits up and runs his palms roughly down his thighs, pulls at his shorts. “We work great, and we have fun. I’d like to keep having fun."

Breaking things off is hard because of the fun. The sex is too good, and it’s been blurring your judgement the entire time. Even now, all you can think about is getting on your knees for him, and you feel like today might end with that regardless of what happens. But Seungmin is everywhere; he’s always the first and last notifications on your phone, and it doesn’t stop at all in between. Maybe he means well, but you’re exhausted.

“I like our fun, too. But Seungmin…I need some space. We both need space before we burn this thing out.”

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes wander around your apartment. The look on his face is familiar, because it’s the same one that he had before you approached him four weeks ago. Upset, a little confused.

“I can take a break. So…what, no sex for a few days?"

You almost say yes. “I think we need more time than that.” This is you trying to be smart, but you don’t want to be smart, you want to do what you usually do with your relationships; let them run their course even though you know things will get bad, and someone will definitely get hurt. No, you want to be stupid...you want him to fuck you senseless right now.

Seungmin stands and adjusts his shirt over his shoulders, stretches his neck. “Okay…got it.”

Your heart thumps a little more as he approaches.

“You want me to go?”

Eye contact is hard to hold. His stare is so intense, and he’s so handsome...too handsome. The little nod you give him takes so much effort, like his closeness puts some sort of spell on you.

He steps even closer, and gently grabs your wrist. “Okay, I’ll...go…” another step, “can I have a goodbye kiss?”

The smell of his breath and his cologne make you dizzy. Pliable. Seungmin laces his fingers with yours and squeezes, and before you even tell him yes, he’s kissing. He kisses like it could somehow make you change your mind. He pulls back and guides your hand to his hip, “you sure?” hoping you’ll move it to where he really wants it.

But you don’t. You squeeze, though. “Yeah.”

“Don’t make me beg”

“Seungmin…” you start, but you have no idea where you’re going from here.

“Please, I have no problem begging”

You watch your hand slide up and under his shirt, touch his warm skin. His muscles tighten under your touch as you stupidly, mindlessly tuck your fingers beneath the button of his jeans.

His hand closes around the back of your neck, “it’s all yours,” and pulls you close to him, “and you’re mine.”

“No…no,” you pull away and make as much space between you as possible. “You gotta go.”

“I did something wrong, right…what was it?”

Being a little too much isn’t wrong. Seungmin didn’t do anything wrong, not really. The problem is his intensity...his overzealous personality. He watches you're every move when he doesn't think you notice, and he glances at your phone when he sees something pop up. You purposely left it unlocked and unattended at one point, which you still feel shitty about, just to see if he would go through it, and he did. He keeps you away from others when you do manage to go somewhere other than the bedroom—everyone is percieved as a threat, no matter what. A few nights ago you left a club because Seungmin insisted there were too many single looking men there. He was right, but he had nothing to worry about. Seungmin doesn't seem to understand how you see him; he's handsome, and he's funny. Thoughtful, and a little too selfless...especially in the bedroom.

But at the same time, he's suffocating. Jealous, possessive, and obviously terrified of someone stealing you away from him. So, this is hard.

"I'm sorry, Seungmin. I really wish we—"

"Wish? You don't have to wish...you have all the power, right? Let me try...I wish we never met. I wish you never decided to take pity on me, and talk.

You're lost for words, but it doesn't matter...everything you needed to say was said. He grabs his jacket from the chair and heads for the door, but he takes his time putting his shoes on. If he's waiting on more from you; a change of heart, more of an explanation (you didn't really tell him the truth), he won't get it.

He looks back at you once more before opening the door, and he closes it behind him with a slam.

. ✦ .

Two days pass so quietly, and you're surprised. Maybe he figured out what the problem was, the main part of the problem, because you didn't completely lie to him. You are afraid of going hard and burning out, and that is exactly where the two of you were heading.

The office door pops open and your coworker peeks in, "your lunch is here!"

"No, I didn't order lunch"

"Well, it has your name on it, and a note! It says..." she starts to unfold it, but you're up and on her before she can read any of it.

"Okay, okay...lemme have it"

The smell coming from the bag gives you flashbacks to your first real night out with Seungmin. You told him how much you liked the spicy fried chicken he picked for you, and that you couldn't wait to have it again, and of course he remembered. You open the note and read:

잘 먹고 있길 바라 승민

"Dammit, Seungmin." You fold it back up and stick it in your back pocket. This could be his soft approach to communication, but you also wouldn't be surprised if he scheduled your Monday lunch before you broke up with him.

Maybe you should have told him the real issue. You don't believe you can change his unhealthy approach to a relationship, and talking to him about it might even make things worse, but you didn't give him that much of a chance.

The buzzing of your phone snaps you back to reality, and you're not surprised when you see his name. The message throws you a little, though.

who is he?

Who is he? There is nobody else. There wasn't before, or during your few weeks with him, and there is no one now. He thinks you broke things off to be with someone else; seemingly, his biggest fear. So now what do you do? Anwer him and tell him there is no he? Or ignore him and hope he doesn't text again? Or pay you a surprise visit.

Today, you ignore.

Later that night, you stare at the open message thread and think. Instead of typing a reply, you scroll up and read his past text messages:

No, don't be busy tonight...can come over and we can make a mess here for a change

You did go over that night, and the two of you made a mess of his bed, and then the couch. That was the last time you slept with him, and Seungmin whispered I love you over and over as he fucked you raw, over and over. It didn’t seem wrong at the time, because he makes your head fuzzy, but afterward…you’re positive he wanted to tell you again.

Morning! I missed you last night, I miss you right now...don't make me miss you anymore today

Only vaguely threatening in retrospect. But also cute.

I couldn't sleep last night, and I really wanted to call you. Can I do that?

Thoughtful, but needy. Seungmin knows how to balance his cute, his hot, and his…whatever he is—you have to give him that. A new message from him throws the thread back to the bottom, and you read it before you even realize it's there:

I know you're reading this...fucking answer me

. ✦ .

You expect to see him outside of your building when you leave the next morning. And then outside of work. He’s nowhere, and he doesn’t text again—not yet. Answering him is inevitable, but you have to think about your reply.

Home is two more blocks away when you feel the buzz of the notification. Maybe he’s outside the lobby door, waiting patiently. Your heart races when you see him typing again. You're not sure if you're nervous, or excited.

how was work?

I hope you had a good day…

You don’t have to look so nervous

He’s watching. And you're not nervous, because Seungmin doesn't scare you. The watching is a tiny bit unnerving, though.

I can forgive you if there is somebody else. It’s not too late to fix things.

The texts keep coming as you walk, get to the lobby, and finally make it to the elevator. Only then do you look at your phone again.

Get rid of him, come over

Or I’ll come to you

I miss your bed

I miss you

I know you miss me

It feels like a weird dream.

Seungmin, there was nobody else, and there is still nobody else. And yes, I’m here and I’m reading everything you send.

There is nothing to forgive, and nobody to get rid of. I won’t be coming over, and I’m sorry that you miss me.

It’s stupid, and it might make things worse, but you send it anyway. You make a drink and find yourself sitting at the counter, watching and waiting to see his three little dots start to bounce, but it takes longer than you expect. Now you're feeling impatient, and you're not sure why. You want him to reply; you want to know what else is going on his his head, and just as you drain your glass, he starts typing.

I know you miss me. Stop pretending this is what you want. You're acting like a cunt.

That stings a little. He moves quickly between anger and sadness, but he's also somehow getting everything right. You can't deny that you miss him, and you are turturing yourself...but you kind of like how badly he wants you.

I need you so bad

That's the last message he sends, and it’s the one that you dwell on after a few more drinks; after getting into bed and pulling up the photos in your camera roll—selfies you’ve begged for, screenshots from your video calls.

You’re one hundred percent thinking with your cunt right now. Looking at him—he takes the cutest selfies—and remembering how good he makes you feel, and how good you make him feel…not touching yourself is a challenge. You squeeze your thighs together, put some pressure where you need it. You decide you can't give in and get off to this, not tonight, but maybe giving into him wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, Seungmin needs you.

. ✦ .

I'm not going to give you another chance. You have today.

That sounds a little more threatening, but you're not sure if he means it how you're imagining it in your head. What happens after today? You expected to wake up to more than that, but you’re relieved you woke up less horny. The last month with him is enough of an explanation for you, as far as why and how his weird, slightly unhinged texting got you so riled up last night.

But you’re only less horny. And you might text him back over your morning coffee.

Yeah, you definitely will.

What happens after today?

He starts typing immediately, but then he stops. A few seconds later, he starts again. Maybe he didn’t think it through well enough yet. Still, you’re on the edge of your seat.

Do you think I’m going to tell you over the phone? No, I need to see you.

He’s smart, you already know that. He has a big brain, and a big dick, and you thought for a while he might also have a big heart. Or you hoped.

Alone

Alone, of course. No coffee shop talk. But if he’s sentimental enough, he might agree to it.

Why don’t we just meet at our table?

He doesn’t respond quickly. He’s considering it…wondering if it’s isolated enough to get his point across. But you’ve offered to talk to him again, and that’s good enough.

okay…when you’re free

Thoughtful. Luckily, you’ve already called work and told them you needed to take a personal day.

I’ll meet you there in an hour

. ✦ .

You’re late, on purpose. Seungmin is sitting inside at your table, head in his hands, staring into his drink. He looks tired and angry, and you expected a text by now, asking why you aren’t there. As soon as the door opens, he looks for you, and he tries to keep a straight face as you approach.

“You’re late”

“I’m sorry”

There’s already a latte waiting for you on the table—caramel, steamed extra hot.

“…uh, I’m sorry,” he says it so quietly, you barely hear it. “For what I said yesterday.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes, I miss you…I do. I can’t think straight knowing you have someone else.”

“You were watching, did you see me with anyone else? And I mean when you called me a cunt.”

Seungmin doesn’t answer, but you assume that is what he’s really apologizing for. He’s fidgeting with his cup, and you see the same version of him that was here the day you met. The same sweet boy you couldn’t resist.

“I miss you, too”

“You do?” He perks up and clenches his drink.

“Yes, but you’re a lot to handle. You were a lot before yesterday.”

“Please, I promise I’ll be better at this. I do love you, I really do.“ He reaches out for your hand, and you let him take it.

“Seungmin, you haven’t known me long enough to even know that”

“Maybe not, but I do. I can prove it to you.”

“What happens after today? What if I leave here…what if I don’t take you home with me?” More silence, but his face changes. It’s not so soft anymore. “I don’t believe you’re going to just disappear.”

“I won’t”

“Why do you want me so much?”

“Why do you deny how much you want me?”

You try not to look too surprised, but you’re pretty certain he can still read you. Instead of answering, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seungmin does the same.

“Thank you for the lunch yesterday”

“I hope it was as good the second time. We should do that again.”

That was the only dinner date you’ve had. Everything else was mostly isolated; here, the park…but mostly sex. Seungmin doesn’t seem like the type for traditional dates, but maybe it’s because you didn’t get all of the fucking out of your system yet—both of you.

“Okay…” you start, but you feel like you’re making a mistake even as the words form and come out of your mouth. “Take me out tonight.”

He smirks. The look on his face is a little condescending, but relieved at the same time. His smile grows until you can see all of his teeth, and his cheeks turn pink. It’s a good look on him. You really hope you’re not making a mistake, because you’d love to look at him like this all the time.

“Six...Seven? We can meet wherever we decide to go.”

Seungmin slowly shakes his head. The smile is still plastered on his face. “At seven? No, no you’re not going anywhere, I’m hungry now. We can get food later.”

His voice drops, and the drop in your stomach feels so good. Your thigh twitches, and the pulse in your clit is too much.

“And your apartment is closer”

He isn’t taking anymore input on the matter. Seungmin is done, he’s standing, and he’s ready to go. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits impatiently, and you can already see what’s happening between his legs. He’s still soft, but he pulls the front of his sweats tight so you can better see what you’re obviously staring at.

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

You nod as you pull your eyes away and look at his face.

“Let me make you feel good,” he takes a step closer and rubs his finger under your chin, “I know you’re already getting nice and wet for me.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as his finger traces over your lips, and you are…you start to ache for him. Your legs shake as you get to your feet, but Seungmin grabs you by the arm and holds you. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The whole walk back, he’s on you, holding tight like he expects you to change your mind and run. But that’s not going to happen. Your head is swimming, and you can only think of what he’s going to do when he gets you alone. You’ve gone this long without sex, but your downtime was still full of dirty texts, photos, telling each other in extensive detail what you wanted to do to each other next time.

His hand slides under your shirt and up your back once you’re in the elevator, and just as it slides back down to grab your ass, the doors open, and you lead him out with his hand still gripping you.

“Take this off,” he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it on the ground.

“We’re almost there…Seungmin.” You’re spun around and pushed hard against the wall. One hand is on your throat, and the other unbuttons your jeans. “Seungmin—“

He shushes you, kisses you softly, and unzips, “pull them down for me…” You tug at each side until he has enough room to slip his hand between your thighs, and he smiles as he slides his fingers back and forth, collecting as much of you as he can. “Good girl, so wet for me.” He pulls back out and sucks his fingers into his mouth.

“Minnie…my door is right there”

“I know. Take them off.”

The pressure on your throat increases until they drop, and then he rewards you with another kiss. The cool air on your nearly naked body sets goosebumps off all over you, and you shiver. He tugs once at his sweats and you watch his cock slowly appear, and it bounces as he frees it completely. The shine of his pre-cum makes you throb and whimper, and for a moment, you forget where you are.

He grabs your hips and turns you, and now he has you by the back of your neck, cheek against the wall. There’s nothing to hold onto here, and you can’t reach for him, so you set your palms flat against the wall and try to balance yourself. And then his hand is gone. Both of them grab your hips, and his tongue slides over your entrance. He licks, pushes in deeply, and sucks at the arousal pouring out of you until he’s satisfied. Now you're hyper aware of where you are, out in the open…and someone can turn the corner at any moment. Seungmin doesn’t care. You're not sure if you care.

“Fuck me”

“Fuck you, hm? You ready for me?”

“Yes, fuck…please…I need it”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” He’s back on his feet, fingernails grazing over your thighs and ass.

“I need your cock, I need it”

His arm wraps lovingly around your waist, and slowly…very slowly, slides deep inside of you. Seungmin groans from the pressure, tight and hot. You clench around him and whine when he pushes in hard, and then he’s back out again.

“No, don’t stop”

The tight squeeze of his hand is on the back of your neck again, “c’mon…get your key…inside. Someone’s gonna see us.” He says it like this whole thing was your idea, kisses across your shoulder as you fumble with the lock, and leads you inside, “go... get into bed.”

Your head is spinning. You’re confused, and ready for him. But the bed…that’s good. That’s exactly where you want to be. You crawl onto the clean blanket and collapse onto your stomach—eyes close as you will your mind to catch up with the rest of you. It’s suddenly very quiet. Seungmin didn’t follow you in, and you don’t hear him outside the door. Maybe he left. Maybe he was just getting back at you—stripping you in public, getting the two of you caught. Embarrassing you, or worse.

Just as you start to believe yourself, the door swings open and he walks in, very casually, open beer in hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. He smiles sweetly as he looks over your body, because you’re exactly how he wants you, and you’re immediately gone again as he walks closer, cock still hard and bouncing from the tease in the hallway. He runs a hand through his hair, and pushes it back until it stays out of his eyes, but you can’t watch long…his hand is on the back of your neck again, pushing your cheek into the mattress.

“You’ve been so well behaved for me…” he starts, squeezing a little tighter. He straddles the back of your thighs and rubs the head of his cock over you. “And good girls get what they want.”

You can’t talk, but you whimper…moan a little, just so he knows you’re still with him.

His hands run down your back, scratching before he grabs and pulls your hips up to meet his, and you’re filled up with him again. This time he stays in, rolls his hips, and pushes until you whine from the pressure. “Too much, baby?” Seungmin sounds so sweet, so concerned…and he does pull back before he starts to pump into you. Now he whines and speeds up, comes forward, and clenches the sheets as he fucks you. You push back against him, even though it hurts. The bed starts to shake, and the sound your bodies make on contact is almost drowned out by the moans neither of you can hold back anymore.

A Seungmin slips out between your cries, and his pleased little laugh slips out between his. You don’t want to come yet, but you can feel it rising, and you need to touch yourself. As soon as he sees your hand sneak under your stomach, he grabs and pulls both of your arms behind you. Seungmin wants to make you come on his own—no touching—and he will. He adjusts, and he knows he finds the perfect spot when you start to squirm.

“You…first,” he groans.

And you listen again—you come hard and tighten around him, let out a muffled moan into the blanket. You know he lets go by the desperate sound he doesn’t hold back. Seungmin says your name—pleads over and over again as he empties himself inside of you. He loses himself completely.

You’re still as he finishes, and you slowly come down from your high, gasping for air as he pulls out with a heavy, relieved sigh. Seungmin grips and pulls your asscheeks apart, and you know without looking back that he’s savoring what he did—he’s watching his cum slowly drip out. He places his hand over your cunt and gathers it up before pushing two fingers back in.

“Seungmin…” you’re still panting, face down in the blankets, unsure of what to do next.

You wonder what he’ll do next, but you don’t wonder long. His lips begin to trace a line up your back, along your spine. Long, slow, wet kisses every few inches until he reaches your neck—now he moves along your shoulder, and back up to your neck until he’s breathing steadily in your ear.

“Seungmin?”

“Yeah…you alright?”

The weight on your body is suddenly gone, and he comes down next you, looks at you with his usual puppy eyes, and smiles.

He asks again, and his smile falls a little when you just stare at him.

“Uhm…yeah”

Seungmin nods and makes himself comfortable on his side of the bed, stretches his naked body out, and watches you. "Come here," he beckons you with two fingers. Despite what just happened—despite the tousled, sweaty hair, and his spent dick resting on his thigh, the look of innocence on him is so intoxicating. The big eyes, his soft pouty lips, and pink cheeks. Seungmin looks like he just woke up and needs a good morning kiss.

Of course you listen and crawl to him, but your brain is fighting you with every thought, every movement you make. The lust, the hate, the need, they’re all on even playing ground right now.

. ✦ .

The first thing you feel is warm breath against your neck, but it’s not enough to wake you completely. It feels good—this could lull you right back to sleep. Next is a wet kiss. Then a nibble. And then his palm is flat against your throat, and your eyes finally open.

“Min?”

He shushes you and kisses as his fingers close around your neck.

“Don’t, please”

“Okay…okay,” his grip loosens while his thumb runs back and forth beneath your chin. “I love you…you know that? More than anything.” But he doesn’t let go. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Thinking you can just…leave me, like it’s nothing—“

“This isn't easy.” You choose your words carefully.

His voice is shaky, and when you finally look at him, his eyes are red and brimming with tears. “You're breaking my heart. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Anything.” He squeezes again, just barely. “Everything. That’s what you are…everything." Seungmin’s face is flushed, and a few tears escape him. One, two kisses across your face, and your cheeks are wet with his tears, too, but he finally lets go, and you relax. Maybe he’s right. You don’t have any close friends here…you have nobody. But you do have him.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispers. An arm wraps around your waist and pulls until he can hide his face in your neck. “Please,” he begs.

His scent is intoxicating. The lingering smell of sweat in his hair, and the sweetness of his shampoo are pushed into your nose and mouth. When he’s sweet, he so sweet. He’s comforting. Even now, hours later, he feels warm and comfortable, and exactly what you need. “I do...I love you.”

“Tell me you’ll stay”

You can hear the tightness in his chest, and throat. More tears fall onto your neck, but you hesitate. You’re unraveling again. Seungmin is pulling you apart piece by piece—every sweet word, every aching appeal chips away at you.

“Please,” Seungmin pulls back and kisses your forehead, “I’ll beg all night…I’ll keep you up all night.”

Saying no just means starting this whole thing over again. Saying yes…maybe you can fix this.

“Yeah…I’ll stay”

. ✦ .

[cosmicpearlz]

hopelessly devoted

summary: the four times you and joão spill about your relationship and the one time you guys finally hard launch it.

pairing: joão félix x actress!reader

-one-

"hello gq! my name is y/n and i'm here to answer your burning questions," you said as you wiggled your eyebrows in a teasing manor.

"what was it like filming with jenna oretega?"

"it was absolutely amazing. jenna is like my sweet little angel. for those that don't know, me and jenna play adopted siblings for this movie called all for love. you should go check it out or whatever," you shrugged your shoulders, throwing the card behind you.

"who makes you laugh the most?"

you looked down at your feet, sporting a huge smile. "my boyfriend," you picked your head up towards the camera and giggled.

"boyfriend? are you saying that you're not single?" one of the producers behind the camera said.

"yeah, ya girl is off the market."

"can you tell us more?"

"well all i can say is he's a well known athlete. we've been together for almost a year now and i'm very happy."

"will you ever go public?"

"maybe or maybe not. who knows," you throw another wink to the camera, causing everyone in the room to laugh.

-two-

with you being out the country for a new movie, you couldn't attend joão's game. you were left feeling bummed that you couldn't be there to support him in person. it didn't stop you from watching the game in your hotel room, texting him throughout it. he wouldn't be able to see all the texts until after the game but it never mattered to you. you practically jumped off the bed, watching your boyfriend score the winning goal. sending a quick text, stating how proud you were and how much you loved him. you kept the channel on, waiting for his interview.

"joão, you had a really goal. you must've been delighted with that finish."

"yeah, i think it was a good goal. uh, well played since the beginning, since the net. and then with the neto pass. it was kind of easy from that spot," joão gave the interviewer a small smile.

"and who will you be celebrating this win with?"

"celebrating with my girlfriend over facetime. she wasn't able to make it here today but i know she's been texting me updates while she was watching. i look forward to calling her and seeing what she's been saying," his smile grows more being able to talk about the love of his life.

"congratulations again and thank you for your time."

"thank you," joão shakes the interviewer's hand before walking towards the locker rooms.

it didn't take long for joão to get home. he was quick to drop his stuff off at the door and greet floki. picking up the small dog, he heads to the couch to call you.

"babyyyy! ah, i'm so so so proud of you," you screamed into the phone speakers upon answering the facetime call.

"meu amado (my beloved), thank you for watching."

"i'm always watching. you literally couldn't get me not to watch your matches. now, where's my son?" joão chuckles, flipping the camera down to floki, who rested comfortably in his lap.

"starting to thing you love him more than me."

"i could never."

"well maybe just a little bit. but to be fair, i love you both equally."

"we love you too babe."

-three-

another day, another interview. you were so glad that you got to do this one at home. you set your computer up in the kitchen and only worried about putting on a fancy top. from the waist down, you were wearing joão's basketball shorts and a pair of his socks. his closet was pretty much your closet too.

"in a recent interview with gq, you mentioned that you had a boyfriend," you nodded with a smile. "what song reminds you of the relationship you guys have?"

"um it'd have to be 'so american' by olivia rodrigo."

"he isn't american?"

"no, he's actually portuguese. unfortunately, he doesn't laugh at all my jokes because he thinks i'm corny sometimes but i'm very much in love," you replied, locking eyes with joão while he quietly tiptoes through the kitchen. he blows you an air kiss, making you wink at him.

"was that him? is he with you now?" you cover your mouth to hide your smile and incoming laugh.

"yes, i'm home and he's here too. i believe he just came in from training. it's nice being able to come home to someone."

-four-

"i'm joão félix and here's ten things that i can't live without."

for the next thirty minutes, he explains the stuff he brought in. from his training gear and cleats to his dog to his phone and even his favorite cologne. the last item, wasn't an item but a person.

"she's not here right now but meu amado is the last thing i can't live without. i feel like she constantly grounds me when i need a pick me up. it's been nice having someone to come home to. i also love that we're able to support each other throughout our busy lives," he smiles off to a distance, recalling moments from your relationship.

"nah nah, bro just wants to talk about her all day," his teammate noni rushes into the frame.

"get out, this is my video!" joão says, while laughing behind the words.

"you guys don't understand. i genuinely don't think he can function properly without her. you should see them when we have away matches, just on the phone the entire ride."

"i can't help that she's the love of my life. now, shoo."

-the hard launch-

you were buzzing with nerves while getting dressed for the film festival. you knew all eyes were going to be on you because of the movie that you were in. you also knew, with joão by your side, you could do anything. you were finishing getting ready, when a knock on the door sounded through the room

"come in," you yelled out, thinking it was either your boyfriend or someone from your team. the door opens and closes, footsteps getting closer, you're met with your boyfriend. joão whistles, eyes traveling you from head to toe.

"my god, you are a beauty."

"oh stop it," you close the distance between the two of you and kiss his cheek. he lays his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his body.

"i'm serious bebê, you are gorgeous. i cant wait to shout it to the sky that we're dating."

"i'm excited too. i can't wait for people to know that my boyfriend is one of the best footballers ever."

"now you're just saying that."

"no, i believe it. there's a difference love."

"y/n, it's time to go!" your manger yells through the closed door.

"you ready babe?"

"always. after you my love," joão says, letting you take the lead.

getting closer to the carpet, your nerves were back. it was as if he could sense it because you felt a squeeze on your hand. you looked up from your lap, locking eyes with your boyfriend.

"no need to be nervous, i'm right here," joão whispers to you, while gliding his thumb across your hand. "are you feeling doubts about us going public?" as much as he didn't want to admit, he would be hurt if you said yes. joão had been waiting to go public for some time now but he knew if you had doubts, he would respect your wishes. your eyes widen upon hearing his question.

"no! babe, i don't doubt a thing when it comes to you. i'm just nervous because it's my first time being here. i don't want to disappoint anyone."

"you won't. you're going to do amazing," he leans over to press a kiss to your lips. leaving a couple pecks and then leaning upwards to kiss your forehead.

when the car comes to a stop, joão is the first to get out. coming around the other side to open the door for you. the screams were already loud when he step out of the car but it doubled as he helped you out. joão fixes the train of your dress before you guys walked hand and hand down the carpet.

"so he was the boyfriend, huh?"

"yes, he's my talented and wonderful boyfriend," you giggled, meeting his gaze. joão shakes his head and joins in on your laughter.

"we're here for her not me. I'm so proud of her and her hard work."

"I'm surprised fans didn't pick up that the two of you were talking about each other the whole time. it really does make sense now," the interviewer let out a chuckle of realization.

"you know, now that you say it, i'm surprised too. our answers were almost always the same," you looked up at him, finding he was already looking at you.

"i don't care, i can finally kiss her in public. i'm dating y/n y/l/n!" joão grins during his mini speech. your smile grows and you pull your joined hands closer to your heart.

"and i'm dating joão félix!"

"talk about hard launch of the century. congratulations on the movie y/n and i wish you nothing but the best."

"thank you for your kind words. it truly means a lot and my best is standing right next to me," you replied to the interviewer. joão's smile grows even bigger and he places a delicate kiss to the top of your head.

"she's my best as well. if anyone cared to know!"

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/lost-in-fandoms/762168056269144064/thinking-about-streamer-max-who-lowkey-does?source=share

Omg. Omg!!!! Streamer Max my beloved! What does Daniel do when he stumbles onto Max's stream? I'm just imagining him clicking on a random link or something and suddenly bam he's got a face full of this pretty streamer with slutty short shorts!

(Anyway love your work and hope you have a great day!! 🥰)

You are so sweet I hope you have a great day too!!

Some slutty streamer Max to try and have something good to end the day with

Daniel sighs, rolling over towards the bedside table and grabbing his phone, checking the time for what feels like the twentieth time that night already.

4:42 am.

Just twenty minutes after the last time he checked.

He sighs again, sitting up slightly to drink some water, resigned to the fact that he'll probably won't get any sleep tonight either. If he's lucky, he'll get a couple hours when the sun is rising and then sneak a nap in somewhere during the afternoon.

He knows that jet lag is not helping, having landed in Perth from Los Angeles just two days ago, but he's been dealing with this insomnia for way too long to lie to himself any further. Sleep simply isn't coming.

He's tried most things already tonight, from the relaxing herbal tea his mom had recommended, to the white noise machine, to the podcasts, to the meditation. Nothing has worked.

He grabs his phone again, going through some of his messages and emails before clicking on the twitch app.

It's something new he's been trying the past couple of weeks, doesn't even remember who recommended it to him, and so far it hasn't worked, but at this point into the night he's willing to do anything. Whoever it was who first told him about it had been speaking about ASMR streams and music channels, but Daniel has been mostly browsing around, not really finding anything that catches his eye.

Tonight, he moves past the few streams he has followed already, scrolling through the live channels without looking for anything in particular, until something catches his eyes.

At first glance the stream doesn't look like anything special, even if the game itself looks cute, just a guy in a dimly lit room in a corner of the screen, mouth moving to say words Daniel can't hear yet, but.

The guy is sitting on a gaming chair, leaning back slightly in a way that Daniel doubts is fully comfortable, legs splayed, his short shorts bunched up to leave milky skin on display. He's using both hands to play, but just as Daniel is watching, slightly transfixed, he laughs, probably at something in chat, and brings one hand away to lightly scratch at his neck and then down to his leg, pulling it more to the side, fingers grazing on his crotch.

Daniel swallows.

He taps on the screen, opening the stream without really thinking about it, finally letting the guy's voice play through the speakers.

"...just for 40 more minutes. No, you cannot bribe me for one hour, Kiks, not even if you use the cute emote. I have work."

He has an accent, a lisp that comes out when he says Kiks, bright blue eyes and a lovely smile. And a hand that is still on his dick.

Daniel's eyes fall on the name of the stream, Farming some slimes, which tells him nothing, and the name of the game, Slime Rancher 2, which tells him that at least he's not in some sort of secret porn category, before going back to the camera square.

The guy is now playing again, hands just barely in view from where they're wrapped around the controller, and Daniel takes a breath, trying to gather his bearings after feeling like he's just been hit over the head with an hammer.

The chat is scrolling by slowly, his 236 viewers obviously not all interested in talking, so Daniel has no problem catching the last few messages. It's mostly people complaining about the guy leaving early, the person he was talking to earlier, KicksforKiks24, offering to gift some subs if he stays longer, and Daniel wonders if he is the only one noticing the absolutely sinful thighs on display here.

Nightnectior: What if I ask really nicely Max?

The new message pops up in chat, and Daniel watches as the streamer, Max apparently, laughs again, shaking his head.

"No, Night, I told you, I have things to do early in the morning."

Okay, maybe Daniel is the weird one here. Maybe he is the only one thinking about Max's legs and reading his posture wrong. Maybe he is the only perv in this chat, and everyone else is absolutely normal.

Severson: would love to see you do /things/ in the morning

Daniel chokes on his spit.

He's expecting Max to ignore it, or to delete the message, or to have any kind of reasonable reaction, but Max.

Max grins.

He blinks slowly, shifting on the chair almost casually, bringing one foot up to rest on the seat, shorts bunching up so much Daniel can see a hint of pubes, the outline of his balls and dick now fully visible, and then sliding a hand down his thigh to rest on his lower belly, fingers grazing his crotch again.

"Would you?" he asks, voice low.

Daniel has forgotten what Max's asking about. He's forgotten about anything that isn't the desire of sinking his teeth in the meat of his thigh, to have them wrapped around his head, and the knowledge that his dick is half hard already.

"I don't think that's how it works," Max says, in response to a message Daniel doesn't even care to look at right now. He's barely aware of the chat going faster now, more messages popping up in a rapid succession.

"Oh look at all of you, coming out to play."

Max's hand slides lower, now fully on his dick, as he giggles, a sliver of his stomach exposed too. Daniel's heart is beating in his ears. He doesn't know what's happening.

There's a new sound on the stream, something that startles Daniel out of his daze enough to realise someone has just donated €50 just to call Max a pretty boy.

Daniel wonders how hard it is to figure out how donations work. How much he can donate without his bank blocking his account. How much it would take for Max to do something.

He swallows, feeling slightly insane.

Max's fingers squeeze once.

Daniel's breath stutters in his chest, his hands twitching, wanting to touch himself too but so transfixed he doesn't dare moving.

And then Max shifts, grabbing the controller again and sitting up a bit, shirt falling back into place. Even if the outline of his dick is still clearly visible, something in the spell breaks, letting Daniel breathe again.

He can still feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, his mouth dry. His dick is hard under the sheets.

With a trembling finger, Daniel presses follow.

[blue-slxt]

English Lessons

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Just a little drabble for a funny idea that I had. It's super short, but I think it's funny and cute. It feels very on brand for Lo'ak. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, that's pretty much it.

Word Count: 500+

Summary: Lo'ak helps you practice English so that you can surprise Neteyam.

You stand with Lo’ak just out of sight of Neteyam.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Lo’ak says to you in hushed tones.

Your ears and tail perk up with excitement. “Got it.”

You had asked Lo’ak for help practicing your English so that you could communicate with your mate in both of his languages. And he was more than happy to help you out. As a matter of fact, he was downright giddy to help you learn.  It was sweet. You always got along well with Lo’ak and he was a good teacher. He was patient in helping you make sense of the foreign feeling sounds on your tongue and praised you when you nailed a new sentence.

Today you had finally felt confident enough to try out your new skillset on your mate. With a big breath to calm your nerves, you walk past Lo’ak and over to Neteyam.

“Ma’Teyam!” you say approaching your love. He turns and instantly melts into a smile when he sees your face.

“Hello, yawne. I missed you.” He says wrapping you in his arms and placing a kiss to your cheek. Now was the perfect moment.

“How was your day?” The words feel unnatural leaving your mouth, but you’ve practiced enough to know that your pronunciation was spot on. And you can tell from the look on Neteyam’s face that he’s surprised and a little proud.

“My day was good.” There’s a hint of laughter in his voice. “Where did you learn that?”

“Lo’ak has been helping me practice so I could surprise you.” Your heart swells with glee as you see Neteyam’s admiring gaze.

“He says I’m a natural.”

“He’s right. You are doing such a good job.”

Your face visibly lights up registering the fact that you can finally start to understand Neteyam’s English.

“What else have you learned?” he asks with genuine curiosity, but he also just really loves hearing you speak and seeing how happy you are with your new skill.

You think about all the phrases that Lo’ak has helped you learn over the last month or so and try to settle on one. There was one that was a little funny sounding, even for it being English, but it’s also one of the more complex sentences you learned and you wanted to show off a little bit. Plus, Lo’ak said that Neteyam would love it.

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.” You say proudly turning your face up to look at him.

Neteyam’s eyes go wide and his mouth is agape. He immediately flushes at your words and laughter erupts from behind you where Lo’ak stood watching the whole interaction.

You whip around to look at him and he is doubled over on the ground with tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard.

“Lo’ak! What are you thinking teaching her something like that?!” Neteyam chastises him, but Lo’ak is too amused to care.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion about what just happened.

“What’s wrong? Did I mess it up?” you ask.

Neteyam’s face softens when he looks at you, “No, yawne. You did so well. But how about from now on, you practice with Kiri?”

Taglist: @soleilmoon @netemoon @fifia-writes @strangersav11

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[yukidragon]

Sunshine in Hell Height Headcanons

It's June 15, which as many of you know from this official profile, that it's Sunny Day Jack's birthday today!

You might also know that it's [Redacted]'s birthday thanks to this ominous picture Sauce shared last year on this day. Funny how these two totally distinct characters share a birthday isn't it? 🤔

Anyway, I was hoping to have written something for this year to celebrate, but like last year my spoons are way too few and far between. I was also hoping to do something self-indulgent for my own birthday, but same lack of spoons halted me there too.

So, until I can stock up on more metaphorical utensils to help me do the stuff I feel like doing, I'm going to celebrate by rambling a little bit about some headcanon details.

Sunshine in Hell differs from the game demos in a number of ways, and one of them is Jack's height. As you might've seen from the profile link, Jack is canonically 6'2", but in my personal headcanon continuity, I decided to make the gentle giant quite a bit taller than that. Because it amuses me, and I struggle with imagining Jack as shorter than Cove Holden.

When deciding how tall to make Jack in my stories, I also decided to do a height chart for him and a few other characters as well. It helps to better imagine characters interacting when you can see how tall they are compared to others.

Yes, I threw in a few extra love interests to the mix, as well as a couple other MCs. I was curious to see how tall Alice would be compared to her sisters, and I had to throw in their love interests as well.

As an aside, it tickles me that even after I made Jack significantly taller, he's shorter than Bo's horny "Feed Me" form.

For those of you that need the conversion from centimeters to feet and inches, or have trouble reading the image, I'll write them down for easy reference.

Alice: 162 cm / 5'4"

Jack: 198 cm / 6'6"

Shaun: 178 cm / 5'10"

Nick: 173 cm / 5'8"

Ian: 170 cm / 5'7"

Bo: 180 cm / 5'11"

Barbie: 184 cm / 6'0"

Bo "Feed Me" form: 216 cm / 7'1"

Elias: 185 cm / 6'1"

Coraline: 172 cm / 5'8"

As you can see, Shaun, Nick, and Ian stuck with the canon heights in their profiles. It's just Jack who got a height increase because it's what I imagined his height to be from the start, and Sunshine in Hell is basically my headcanons that diverge from the game's canon, so I do what I want. It's also fun to imagine scary yandere Jack towering over every single one of the love interests. It adds to the intimidation factor too despite his gentle giant persona.

Bo and Elias don't have canon heights like the SDJ love interests, so I mostly just did whatever felt right to me for them. Bo's regular height was influenced by the mafia AU picture Sauce drew. It served as a very good height comparison chart all on its own. As you can see, Bo is just tall enough to reach Jack's smile if you don't count the ears and poofy hair.

All credit to the awesome Sauce for their lovely art of course and for feeding my headcanons. As always, I want to link to the SnaccPop Patreon as gratitude for being cool with me using their art in my posts. If you're a a free or paying member, consider checking out an important survey that went up to help guide the team in their future endeavors.

Bo looks so short compared to Jack, doesn't he? In my headcanon land, it's just a matter of perspective, and next to other people Bo is pretty darn tall. Though he's just one teeny tiny inch shorter than his puppy.

You bet your sweet bippy Barbie takes smug satisfaction in that one inch height superiority. Bo talks so big as a big bad alpha dog, but the puppy he's trying to dominate is just a bit bigger and badder than he ever expected.

Of course, Bo gets to turn it right back around on Barbie with his monster sized "Feed Me" form. Like werewolves that become huge compared to their human selves, when Bo's inner beast comes out to play, he adds on quite a lot of height and muscle. He towers over even Jack! Still, even when super sized, he's no match for Barbie.

As you can see, despite being the eldest child, Alice is shorter than her two younger sisters, especially Barbie! They got more of their dad's height genes, while Alice took more after their mom in that department. Barbie and Coraline are quite a bit taller than average, a fact that Barbie revels in, and Coraline can find a little awkward sometimes, especially during moments of weakness. It can be hard to help someone stand back up and walk when they're much taller than you are after all. It leads to some embarrassing moments for poor Coraline.

On that same note of surprisingly tall people with chronic illnesses, I thought it would be interesting if Elias would have been a very tall man if not for his illness. There's no canon height for him and he's floating with Jack and Bo in the Christmas picture, so it's hard to go with a comparative height. So, I went with what felt narratively interesting to me. With his legs being twisted, and him being hunched over with a cane, he probably appeared shorter than he actually was. It's hard to see his exact height with his lower half ghostly and indistinct as well. It's only when he actually bothers to give himself legs and stand with both feet planted firmly on the ground that he can show off just how tall he really is.

While I'm on the topic of height, I wonder if one of Ian's insecurities was his height. Some men have issues if they're shorter than their peers, and Ian is the shortest of the love interests. I can imagine it certainly didn't help if he was bullied for being short along with his general "nerdy" appearance back in school.

Still, Ian has nothing to complain about at the height he's at as a fully grown adult. Even if the other love interests are taller than he is, Ian is still above average for men in the US. He's just got the misfortune of being the shortest guy in a group of very tall people. At least he doesn't have to worry about taking the bottom spot in the height chart like Alice.

Yes, Alice is a bit self-conscious about being so short compared to her peers, even if technically she's also above average height for a woman in the US. She feels especially tiny when standing next to Jack.

Though, admittedly, Alice does find it very nice to feel tiny and delicate when Jack sweeps her up into his arms. It makes her feel less self-conscious about how chubby she is when her big strong giant of a boyfriend can carry her around so easily. Once she gets over the initial fear that he might drop her, she'll soon look forward to being whisked away by her silly clown.

Oh, and if you're wondering about Mary's height... I'm still debating if I want her to be around Alice's height or a little taller. She had the same eye color in both lives due to the eyes being windows to the soul, but there were other physical differences due to different parents introducing different genetics. I need to ruminate on that fine of detail more and see what feels more interesting to me narratively.

Though even if Mary was as tall as Barbie, she'll still be short enough for Joseph to sweep into her arms since he's just as much of a giant now as he was then. Not that it would stop him from trying even if his sunshine was bigger than him. Nothing will stop Joseph/Jack from showing his love for his sunshine!

I think I'll wrap things up on that fluffy note. I hope y'all enjoyed me going off on a headcanon ramble after such a long time. With any luck, I'll be able to get to answering some asks soon. Thanks for reading!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[roosterforme]

Specialty Goods | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Jake is tasked with planning a holiday get-together. He’s unhappy about it, until you offer to let him sample the specialty goods. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 2000

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake in here??! He even managed to sneak onto my masterlist!

I wrote this for the Dicked Down December challenge! I hope my fic recipient enjoys it!

Jake groaned, head tossed back in extreme annoyance. He had literally pulled the short straw. 

"Sucks to be you, Bagman," Phoenix told him with a bright laugh as she gathered together the pieces of the drinking straws she had cut up and tossed them in the trash. 

"Yeah, have fun planning the Christmas party," Bob told him, slapping him playfully on the back. 

Jake scowled. He was now solely responsible for planning the Dagger holiday get-together, something he had absolutely no interest in doing. But he knew if he didn't plan something good, he would hear about it from his fellow aviators for the entire upcoming year. 

Since he was already at the Hard Deck, he decided to start making the plans now and get it over with. He'd just sweet talk Penny into helping him. "Penny, my dear, how do I go about planning a little holiday gathering in your lovely establishment?" he asked, leaning against the bar and giving her his sweetest smile.

Penny just smirked at him. "You pulled the short straw, didn't you?"

Hangman nodded his head and sighed. "Sure did."

Penny chuckled. "Okay, I'll have mercy on you. If you want, I can have Y/N help you set up a private event with a caterer and specialty drinks."

Jake straightened up at the mere mention of your name. He lived for the nights when you were bartending. He always found himself trying to stand a little taller, sound a little smarter when you were around. "Is she here today?" he asked hopefully, picturing your pretty smile and plush-looking lips in his mind. 

"She's off today, but why don't you come in on Sunday an hour or so before we open. She'll be here then, and she can help you out."

----------------------------------------

When Jake pulled into the parking lot on Sunday afternoon, he saw just one other car. Yours. He took a deep breath and checked his hair before walking inside.

"Well, if it isn't Hangman," you said from behind the bar. Your voice had a melodic quality that he really loved. 

As Jake's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit bar, he saw you were wearing a sundress, and you had piled your hair in a messy bun on top of your head. You were always beautiful, but today you looked adorable as well. He liked to hope it was just for him.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite bartender," he replied and started to make his way over to where you had lined up some glasses and bottles. 

When you crooked your finger at him, coaxing him to join you behind the bar, he had to stifle a groan. He could easily imagine you luring him to bed that way, and he needed to stay focused on the task at hand. But you had always been a little flirtatious with him, more so than with the other aviators. He never tried to make a move though; there was just something sacred about a Hard Deck bartender that made you seem unattainable. 

"Come check out what I've been working on," you told him, making room for him in the tight space. You handed him a martini glass filled with a red drink. "This one is a cranberry martini," you informed him. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the glass from you and tasted the cocktail. 

"Delicious," he told you, and he knew his gaze inadvertently dipped down to your mouth when he said it. "I like it, what else you got?"

You smiled up at him as he handed the glass back to you, and you took a sip as well. Your pink tongue darted out to catch a drop of the drink from the edge of the glass before setting it down on the bar. You were teasing him, whether or not it was your intention to do so.

Then you were speaking again, and he was trying his best to focus on your words. "I made a minty citrus gin cocktail. It's strong, but I kind of like it," you told him softly, taking a small taste yourself before handing it to him. Jake watched you lick your lips as he took the glass from you. He would rather just taste your lips to get an idea of what the drink was like. 

"I love it," he told you before he even took a sip.

You started laughing. "You didn't even taste it yet, Hangman!" 

He shook his head slightly and grinned. "You're too good for it to be bad," he promised, but he took a drink anyway. "It's perfect."

You grinned up at him as you grabbed the third drink and took a step closer to him. "This one is eggnog with extra rum and spices. I've never made one like this before."

Jake smiled. "Is it special, just for me?" he asked, dying to know how you'd respond to that.

Your eyes widened as you watched him take a sip. "You know I would never give away the specialty goods to anyone else," you said with a wink that had Jake's cock twitching with excitement. 

"Specialty goods?" he asked softly, his eyes dipping down to your chest. "You got any more of those that I can sample?"

You smirked at him. "I have one more thing ready for you," you whispered. "Wanna taste it?"

Jake nodded. "Yes. Please?" He was practically ready to beg you to let him taste your mouth. 

You bit your lip, seemingly trying to make up your mind before you reached for his hand and laced your fingers with his. Jake was instantly pulling you flush against him. He knew you could tell that he was hard, so he waited for you to make the next move. 

When you rested your palm against his chest before guiding your hand over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, he tightened his grip on your waist.

"Well... since you asked so sweetly," you whispered, rubbing your nose softly against his before you kissed him. Your lips were just as soft as he always imagined they would be. Jake guided your laced together fingers up until both of your arms were around him. 

Jake gently moved you until your back rested up against the edge of the counter. He ran his hands slowly up and down your sides as your kisses turned from the sweetest thing he had ever felt to something hotter. You wrapped one leg around his, pulling him until he was snug against your core.

"Oh, God," he gasped as he rubbed himself against your warmth, and you released his lips in favor of his neck. 

"Tell me you've thought about me like this," you whispered against his skin between kisses. "Tell me it's not just me."

"Fuck," he growled. "I think about you like this every time you make me a drink. Then I think about you when I get home."

You sucked hard on his neck. "Do you touch yourself?" you asked, and Jake started hiking up your short dress.

He grabbed your hips and ground against you. "I think you know I do, honey. And I'd love to touch you this time."

"Yes," you said before you licked his neck and moved your lips back to his. Jake let his fingers slip inside your underwear as he teased you before sliding a finger through your wetness. "Jesus," you gasped as he fucked you with one finger. He watched you reach along the wooden counter behind you with one hand, searching for something to grip onto. 

"You're gorgeous, honey," he whispered as you whined. "Can I fuck you?"

"Hangman," you moaned as he slid a second finger inside. 

"I'm Jake," he insisted next to your ear as he buried his face in your sweet scent. 

"Jake! Fuck me on the bar," you groaned. 

"I could listen to you say that all day," he grunted. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, and lifted you up so you were sitting on top of the bar, a few feet away from the drinks you and he had been sampling. You squealed in delight as he jumped up next to you. You leaned back and turned slightly so you were laying down along the length of the bar, and he pressed himself on top of you.

With a smile on your face, you reached for the fly of his jeans and undid them. When you reached inside his boxes and pulled his length free, Jake let his head tip down to your shoulder. You stroked him and hummed next to his ear. "Now I'll think about this every time I pour a whiskey for you."

Jake mashed his lips against yours as he pulled your underwear to the side and groaned as he slid into your perfect little pussy. You whimpered and devoured his mouth while he pumped into you. The front door was unlocked, and Jake knew if someone was in the parking lot, they would be able to see what was going on through the windows. But that just added to the appeal for him, and apparently it was doing the same for you.

"This is filthy," he whispered against your skin.

"I've always wanted to do this," you said breathlessly as Jake pulled your dress down until he could get your nipple in his mouth. "And it's so good with you."

"Fuck!" Jake groaned. "You're killing me, honey."

"Keep going, Jake." He fucked you until he was on the edge of coming, and you ground up gainst him as you cried out, your voice echoing through the empty bar. 

"Can I cum inside you?" he managed to ask, ready to pull out if you said no. But you wrapped your legs around him and told him you wanted him to. So he came, hard, grunting and panting. 

Jake listened to the sound of your breathing and lifted his face to look at you, and then you pulled him down for another sweet kiss. You were smiling and teasing his lips when you both heard a car door slam shut. 

"Fuck!" you said in unison as Jake scrambled to get down from the bar, knocking over the cranberry martini in the process. He lifted you gently to the floor, and left you to stand on shaky legs. 

He quickly buttoned and zipped his pants before wiping up the spilled drink. He was pretty distracted by you as you tried to fix your dress and your hair before Penny walked inside. 

"Hi!" Penny greeted, eyeing both of you where you stood behind the bar. "I just wanted to make sure all of the party planning was coming along. Thought I'd pop in a little early."

"It's going great," Jake told her. "Just exactly what I was hoping for."

"Yep," you agreed, picking up a shaker that Jake suspected was empty. "Going so great."

"Good! Then I'll just be in the office until we open," Penny said, before disappearing through the back room.

"Close call," you whispered as Jake threw away the chipped martini glass. "Um..." you said, blushing profusely and kind of shrugging awkwardly at him. "That was..."

Jake pulled you against him and kissed you softly. "Do you want to come to this Christmas party with me? You'd be forced to spend the evening with my idiot friends, and I'm sure it'll probably be painfully annoying, but-"

"Yes, I'd love to."

---------------------------------------

Two weeks later, Jake was standing hand in hand with you, sipping on one of your specialty eggnog drinks and socializing with the other aviators and their significant others and families. The Hard Deck had been reserved for the private party, and Jake was actually enjoying himself. Probably because you were at his side wearing a dress he couldn't wait to take off of you later. 

"You enjoying that drink? Want another one?" you asked. "I'll get Jimmy to make two more for us."

Jake nodded. "I love the specialty goods around here," he said before kissing you.

-----------------------------------

Thanks for reading! But someone needs to take Jake home with them now, seriously.

@deactivated-bybloguser @sotalife @desert-fern @furiouspiespytaco @beyondthesefourwalls @rosiahills22 @high-bi-imgonnacry @daggerspare-standingby @je-suis-prest-rachel @callsign-joyride @theharddeck @captain-beskar @withakindheartx @roosterscockpit @whatislovevavy @rosesreekofoccasion @hangmanbrainrot @neferpatra @child-of-thedevil @callsign-joyride @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @mygyn @hoyaharper @tallyovie @gennyanydots @endofdays56 @whisperofsong @seriouslyseresin @double-j @bradshawsbitch @sugarcoated-lame @katiebby04 @anotherr-fine-mess @supernaturaldawning @chassy21 @strrywmen @tylerjones98 @captainjaspenor @gigisimsonmars @dhwanishah09 @angel-w0nderland @abaker74 @idontcare-11 @isaebellaa @bringnattolife @hufflepufftruffle @blahehblah @sehnsuchts-trunken

[thissortofsorcery]

For the soft asks, could you please do 30 and/or 16 with Harringrove? You can do either one or both in the same if you want, I just really like both of those and you're such a good writer so I can't wait to see what you do with them 💚💚

So, um. It's a month and ten days later. I'm still gonna answer all of these! I'm going through rough time with writing and it's taking me a while.

This one's just for you though!!!! I did both 30 and 16, and I hope you enjoy it. Again, I tried to keep it short but it, um. Got away from me. And I added a little bit of angst. Just a smidge.

For context, the setting is a modern college and-they-were-roomates AU sort of thing.

------

Steve's talking to some chick.

She's pretty, Billy thinks, in the same way Nancy Wheeler is. Tiny, brunette, with huge eyes and dainty, bird-bone wrists, swallowed up by a cable-knit sweater.

And Steve's smiling at her with that wide, pleased smile he sometimes gets when he and Billy are alone and the lights are low, the one that Billy never gets tired of looking at, the only time he's sorry to kiss Steve, doesn't want to wipe that look off his face. 

Billy spots them from outside the coffee shop. 

On Thursdays, Billy has his shift at the library until six, and Steve gets off class at five. Steve always waits for him at the campus coffee shop so they can walk to the dorms together. He's been doing that since before they started hooking up. 

He isn't expecting to find Steve chatting up a girl when he's supposed to meet him, though. Jealousy hits him like a punch to the sternum, leaves him breathless and stunned. He knows he should walk away, but he can't unstick his feet from the sidewalk and force himself to move.

They're leaning against the high, long table by the window, standing close to each other. Steve's talking with so much enthusiasm that Billy would be laughing with him if he wasn't watching him talk to someone else. The girl seems plenty amused, though.

Billy's always known he liked Steve more than Steve liked him. There was no way he'd like Billy like– like this. Like Steve's the only voice he can't go a whole day without hearing. Like his heart's breaking is his chest at the sight of Steve flirting with someone else. 

They haven't talked about what they were to each other, yet, not explicitly. But Billy's been hoping, like a fucking idiot.

Billy breathes hard through his nose, and reaches for his cigarettes. He can feel himself getting worked up. He's not gonna be able to let this go. The ache is turning into anger in his chest, bubbling up to his throat. He's not gonna be able to keep it civil with Harrington when he gets back to the dorm after his date, and this is either gonna turn into a fight or Billy's gonna call it quits before he's even through the door. 

Billy's done watching his dating life go up in flames, so he's gonna go to Heather's dorm to see if she has any booze and ice cream. He turns around to leave when a shoulder checks into him hard, knocking his bag to the sidewalk, and his cigarette with it. His temper's already shot, frayed by a long afternoon listening to an asshole professor that didn't want to teach, so he yells out an, "Asshole!" to the guy's back. The dude doesn't even turn around to give Billy the middle finger. Bitch. 

Billy shrugs his bag back on, and turns around to see that Steve's staring at him through the window.

Well, fuck.

Steve doesn't look caught out, though, he's smiling wide and waving frantically for Billy to come inside, not at all deterred by his scowl.

What the fuck, right? They can do this in public if Steve wants to.

Billy shoves his way into the coffee shop, adding sway on his hips to show Steve just what he's missing, and goes straight for them.

He's not expecting Steve to take his hand, lace their fingers together, and say, "Billy, this is Amanda from my Child Psych class. Amanda, this is my boyfriend, Billy."

His what?

"What?"

The girl giggles, a melodious, sweet laugh, and gives him a wave and a smile.

"He's been talking about you for like twenty minutes!" She says, hiding a smile behind her coffee mug. "Well, actually, since the semester started, but for the last twenty minutes, too! It's nice to meet you, finally."

On the outside, Billy's quick to recover, but inside, he's still reeling. He can turn on the charm and greet her, but he can't get his bearings about what he just walked into.

"Nice to meet you," Billy says, quirking his lips into a smirk. He adds a wink for good measure and hopes they chalked up any of his off behavior to being shoved outside, and not to being a jealous dick. He leans hard against Steve, squeezing his hand. Steve squeezes back, rubs his thumb over Billy's, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"He says you have good taste in music," Amanda says, and her eyes are huge in her small face, to match her excited smile. "My friends and I are going to see Greta Van Fleet this weekend, and two of them backed out, so they're selling their tickets. Steve's been telling me you liked the band, so if you guys wanna come with us, I can totally text Cassie to hold onto them for you!"

Steve got him concert tickets?

Steve was getting him concert tickets?

"Are you serious?" Billy says, looking between Amanda and Steve, who's watching him with the widest grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. He wraps an arm around Billy and kisses him on his stunned forehead. He can't believe he thought Steve was chatting her up, and he was getting Billy concert tickets. "Steve, shut up, are you serious?"

"Yeah, Bill, we're serious," Steve says. "Amanda came to talk to me after class because I've been rambling to her about you and your playlists since I met her."

"Apparently we have the same Ratt tshirt," She says, shaking her head at Steve, "And I've been harassing him with my musical knowledge because my partner cannot hear anymore about it."

Billy's eyes narrow at Steve.

"Is that how you've keeping up with everything I've been saying about the music I like?"

Steve just shrugs, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sell you out!" Amanda cries, clutching her chest. "Don't be mad at him, though, he's just a good listener."

Billy looks at Steve, with his wide smile and his kind eyes, the hair he obsesses over so much falling just so over his eyes. He wants to kiss him so bad.

"Yeah," Billy says, and he can't help but match that smile with his own. "He is."

They say their goodbyes, and Amanda promises to text Steve the information they need to get the tickets as soon as her friend responds.

Steve holds Billy's hand all the way back to the dorms. Billy doesn't let go of it for anything.

As soon as they're through the door, Billy shoves Steve back against it, presses  their bodies together, swallows his gasp into his own mouth. Their lips meeting is the sweetest caress, the first breath of air after being underwater, and Billy lets the sensation of Steve's body against his, always so warm, wash over him, make him shiver. He can't get enough of Steve, needs to touch him everywhere. Billy's hands cup his face and circle his waist, his hips, anywhere they can find skin, needing to feel him, real and close.

Steve holds him just as tight, tries to pull him closer. He's already buried a hand in Billy's hair, a favorite of his, knowing just how much to pull on it to make Billy sigh or whine.

Billy pulls back, makes the kiss gentler, less hurried. Gives Steve little pecks on the corner of his mouth, makes him chase Billy's lips.

"You got me concert tickets," Billy says between kisses, nose rubbing against Steve's.

Steve hums, both in agreement and because he's pleased, having caught Billy's bottom lip between his own. "Yeah. 'Course."

"You're so…" Billy cuts himself off with a laugh, and kisses Steve again, licking into his mouth. "I can't fucking believe you."

Can't believe I have you.

Steve called him his boyfriend.

"Steve…" Billy pulls back, doesn't open his eyes. Can't help the smile that spreads across his mouth as he says, lips still close to Steve's. "You called me your boyfriend."

Billy feels Steve's answering grin against his lips, against the kiss he's pressing to them.

"Well yeah, you're what, my study partner?"

Billy laughs, a soft, quiet thing, that's not less happy for how low it is.

"Don't think we've ever studied anything."

Steve kisses him again, and Billy is distracted for a second, eyes falling closed to the feeling of Steve's lips catching against his.

"We studied anatomy, I think," He laughs, pressing another slick kiss to Billy's mouth. "And um, electricity."

"Electricity?" Billy laughs, opening his eyes to peek at Steve's face, and finds that wide, pleased smile he fell in love with, that he thinks he can't live without seeing.

"Yeah," Steve says, and laces their fingers together, sending a shiver down Billy's spine. "Do you feel it?"

Billy looks up at him, caught in that soft, brown-eyed gaze. Jesus, but Billy could look at him forever.

"Yeah," Billy says. "Yeah, I feel it."

----

This is in no way inspired by the Greta Van Fleet album that came out yesterday and the fact that I think modern Billy would be a super fan.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: So, I was trying to work something out about Kafka's ass and the sparse amount of hair on it that he's self-conscious about but holy god, I couldn't do it. I started like 4 different things, all of which were not even close to what I was going for. So, here we are. With another idea I had about Florist!Kafka. I had this idea yesterday, I think. Thank goodness I can check this off of my to-do list. There are too many now. It's getting bad, guys. My feelings for this man are becoming an issue lol. Anyway. I about vomited when I finished this because the ending could not have been more perfect (for me?). I love it. I hope you guys like it too!

C/W ::: None. Just more smooshy lovey shit. Sorry not sorry. Maybe I'll carry on with this after the fact. Idk. Let me know if I should whip something up for later? Like after the initial thingy happens?

WC ::: 621 ish

Florist!Kafka has seen you walk past his little pop-up shop every day for the last 2 weeks and he feels like if he doesn't get to talk to you, he'll burst. He does what he can to get your attention and he'll smile at you. You smile back, politely, sure. But that's becoming not enough. He wants to talk to you. With you.

Florist!Kafka has had enough when he sees you making a run for it from one side of the street to the other when it's raining and he's sitting comfortable and dry under the large umbrella that covers his portable cart. He calls out, jogging toward you with an extra umbrella he has.

Florist!Kafka who trips over his own feet and goes flying through the air, knocking you over, too. You're both laying in the biggest puddle you've ever had the displeasure of encountering. Not only that, but he's lying on top of you, face to face. You can feel his breath fanning across the bridge of your nose.

Florist!Kafka who jumps up faster than he ever has gets right to work on helping you, making sure you're ok and that you didn't hit your head or anything like that. He apologizes profusely, offering you to come sit down at his cart to rest for a moment - to collect yourself, were his exact words.

Florist!Kafka who wanted nothing more than for you to take him up on the offer so he could spend more time with you. More importantly, so he could ease his mind and actually see you get some rest. You're always rushing off to one place or another and he wants to see you just "BE".

Florist!Kafka who is delighted beyond words when you agree to go sit with him for a moment, "to collect yourself," as he put it. You thought it was sweet how he was fussing over you. He wouldn't take no for an answer when he offered you a bottle of water. So, you took it, graciously. Thanking him for his kindness but reiterating that he doesn't have to go through this much trouble for you.

Florist!Kafka who disappears around the other side of his mobile stand for a couple of minutes and comes back with a single yellow rose with a bunch of black tulle floofed up around the stem and an unnecessary apology for you. He blames his uncharacteristically clumsy nature on how pretty you are - this isn't the first time you've made him slip up.

Florist!Kafka who blushes when he sees how happy his observation (and the rose) made you. He wants to ask you out so badly but he's not feeling the bravest right now - despite his ability to fight actual monsters when he's really "working". Love is a beast he has not conquered yet. Though he's reveling in the strength you give him just from being there. He could kill a thousand kaiju after a single kiss from you.

Florist!Kafka who hopes you are ok when he lets you leave him to go off and take a second shot at your day. He watches you all the way until you turn the corner at the end of the block and disappear. He smiles for the next 15 minutes straight because he got to be with you for a short amount of time. But still, he had some lingering thoughts.

Florist!Kafka who worries you won’t find the little note he put in the tulle. 

Florist!Kafka whose lingering thoughts were all shattered when his phone alerted him to a new notification; a text. From you! He opened his phone, scrolling right away to read the message ...

"Meet me where I fell for you. Come hungry. - Y/n"

@kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku

@reiners-milkbiddies @darkstarlight82

@bakubunny @supersecretsaga @katkusuo

[tonberry-yoda]

I have an idea! I have really bad food issues and a lot of times eating at certain restaurants makes me sick, so there's like a 60% chance I'll be throwing up in a restaurant every time. So how about headcannons or maybe a short drabble for different bnha characters who knew their boyfriend had food issues but didn't realize how bad it was until they went to check on him?

Some of the character I really want are iida, hizashi, Aizawa, Monoma, and Shoji. If you want to add more or don't want to do any of these go ahead and change up the list ^^

Iida, Present Mic, Aizawa, Monoma, and Shoji with a reader who has some food issues

notes - HI! Sorry this took some time but I was finally able to get to it! I already let you know how I changed it up a bit, so I hope you don't mind that they decide to cook for the reader instead!!! I hope you have a super day and stay super hydrated! <3

Iida

this man would make sure you are fed the way you need to be

if he were to ever take you on a date, he would ask exactly what you would want to eat at a restaurant and research until he finds the perfect one

usually though, he prefers to cook for you

at first, you were a little nervous to tell him about the situation and kind of just avoided eating when he would take you out to somewhere to eat

but being the loving bf he is, he asked exactly what was going on and you were honest, as you could trust him

from then on, he kept record of your favorite foods and made sure that what he was making you was exactly what you enjoyed!

he wants you to stay healthy and happy and will do anything to make that happen <3

Present Mic

im sorry but this man cannot cook for the life of him

i mean he definitely tried to learn once he heard about your problem

know that he's trying <3

but at the end of the day, he will have you pick the place that you go eat or will eat what you cook if that's what you like to do!

but I think he stresses that he's going to be doing the wrong thing if he takes you out, just assure him that he's doing alright <3

he just loves you so much and wants to make you happy and make sure you're healthy, so he'll do anything for you <3

Aizawa

MAMMA AIZAWA TIME

this man will take care of you TO THE EXTREME

he will learn to cook anything for you and even bake if you have a sweet tooth

i feel like he had to cook for himself at a very young age and I see him as a pretty picky eater, so he can definitely help make you something that will help you out

he doesnt often take you out to eat just because that isn't super his jam

he made a love language out of cooking for you and just loves to see the smile on your face after you eat something

Monoma

he will treat you like the most important thing in his life

so yes

that means with food too

he definitely had to learn how to cook or get some friends to help, but know that he's putting in the effort

he feels like that isn't his best way of showing you his love since he's still trying, but know he will put in the effort!!!!!

teach him if you can because he is willing to learn, even if he is embarrassed that he has to ask for help lol

Shoji

a man of many talents

i feel like this man can cook like no other

so if you tell him what you love, expect it to be there for you as a breakfast in bed, or a surprise lunch <3

he wants to make sure you are well fed especially with your problem and he will do anything to make sure that is done

he will try new things or even ask you to teach him what you like to eat

he just cares about you a lot and knows how important food is, so he will do anything <3

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mha masterlist (2) | pinned post

2023@tonberry-yoda– do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

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