#like not as cruel but that's still pretty upsetting for him

[therealnotta]

SUDDENLY AND ABRUPTLY REMEMBERING THIS EDGY WIZARD OF OZ SHORT TV SERIES???? it was like five episodes??????? it had famous actors in it, but like, the kinda famous actors where you see them and go "oh!! oh, what were they in? i know them!" and i think zoey deschanel? or the actress that looks like her??? i have a slight problem with faces, like not huge, but enough that i get confused sometimes. you know the people im talking about tho

anyway i remember that the plot was that oz had become something of a tourist attraction, mc was dorothy's many-times-great grandchild, and everything was this like... dystopian future and guys the books COVERED this, glinda was like "whoa. ok. dorothy was fine, and the three or four other people who showed up were ok, and like... i can tolerate uncle henry and aunty em, but if we don't do something then this is going to become a dystopian tourist trap" and made oz the bermuda triangle. so.

but this was an edgy thing, so acceptable, but the tin man was the cop?? like he was this cool cop going up against this evil government?? and he was A Dude, not even tin. they called him tin man because they locked him in some freaking box and forced him to watch his wife and child die on loop???? it was an insult???? i remember pretty much nothing else about this series it was at least ten years ago and i was but a child what was that all about. he wouldn't be a cop. the second evil people showed up no they wouldn't, he has an axe and he's immortal and made of metal. go ahead, shoot him. try. he's literally just going to get back up and he's ONE guy, you think Ozma is going to lose???? HELLO?????? you enter the court of the fay now!! you're gonna WISH you were just up against the axe guy. man. an army invaded oz in the books and she made them want water and then. got them to drink from the fountain that totally and completely wipes your mind. dystopian tourist trap. smh.

[arlathen]

i see “your parents actually werent around much” and say “that isnt angsty enough and doesnt channel my personal trauma in a way i want”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or

"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.

~~~~~

 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”

Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.

There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.

“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”

“I live somewhere ne...here.”

Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.

However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.

“I mean, what are you doing outside?”

Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.

The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.

“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”

“To do what?”

“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”

“You're new to this, aren't you?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Pretty noticeable, yes.”

The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.

That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.

And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.

Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.

“Stop it. What do you want?”

“I study. You seem experienced. “

“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”

“Really?”

Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.

“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”

“Okay.”

Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.

“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”

“Maybe. Is this a deal?”

“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “

Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.

“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”

Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.

He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.

They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.

A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.

“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”

“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.

Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.

Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.

It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.

“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”

“Jason.”

Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.

“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”

“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”

“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”

Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?

“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.

“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."

“Good. I'll remember.”

The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”

“That's right, buddy.”

“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”

“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “

“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.

On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.

Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.

When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.

A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.

Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.

No.

It helped.

And then he died.

And things are getting worse by the day, hah.

~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~

Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.

Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.

“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”

A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.

“Man, is it you?”

Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.

“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”

“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”

John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?

“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”

The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.

“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.

“No.”

“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”

Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.

Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.

“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”

“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”

“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”

Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?

“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”

The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.

“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”

“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”

“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.

"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."

“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.

“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”

“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”

“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.

"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"

The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.

Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…

“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”

“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.

“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?

"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."

“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”

Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.

Come with me now to see my world

Where there's beauty beyond your dreams

Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins

[the-californicationist]

he gets his revenge

Part 2 to "he comes closer and closer" -- at @numberonetastemakerwhispers request. <3

TW: explicit consent, sadism, masochism, spanking, degradation

“I know all of your hiding spots, pretty girl,” Price teased you in his low, rumbling voice, “....and I know that this one is your favorite.”

He was right, of course. But, you’d chosen this one on purpose. There was a part of you that wanted to be caught this time. You saw his bare feet pad slowly, skillful and silent, across the concrete floor of the office. You had fled to the base's reference room, and you were hiding under the microfiche machine. It wasn’t big enough to allow him in, but you could just barely squeeze through. 

“You like it because I can’t come in there after you, but...” he leaned his head down to the ground in a half-plank, snarling at you in the orange glow of the machine’s lamplight, “I have a long reach.”

You tried to dodge his hand, but he caught you by the ankle and dragged you out of your burrow like a cat does to a mouse. He flipped you over onto your stomach and shoved your body underneath his. He was still only wearing his gym shorts from before, and his dick remained soft and spent from your earlier edging. He’d asked you to play with him, to edge him, and you had. But, you may have taken it a little too far. Now, he wanted revenge and it was very much at hand. 

“John! Please. I was just doing as you asked!” He loved it when you turned helpless. You raised the register of your voice to a higher pitch, exciting his drive even further, feminizing your movements by over-exaggerating your cowering stance. Doe eyes. Just for him.

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, fully unrestrained in this dark office, “Call me by the name I like, love, or else…”

You pressed the first of many buttons,

“John…”

The slap that hit your ass was so hard that it made your body run cold. You couldn’t even scream. It was as if you had been a camera, and your mind had just taken a photo with the flash on. You were dazed by the stinging pain. He was upset, that much was certain. As the burn melted into a masochistic sort of pleasure, tingling out and radiating from the point of impact like a fresh sunburn, you cried out the words he wanted to hear,

“Sorry, Captain! Please…”

He purred like a lion, humming his approval as he pinned you to the dirty floor,

“That’s a good girl. Why can’t you be so good all the time? Such a fuckin’ brat. Needs her Captain to show her how to behave.”

Two more slaps stung sharply through your skin. One was to your ass cheek again, the same aching spot, but the other was to your hamstring on the back of your thigh. That one made you cry out in earnest.

“Mmm, yes. That’s what I like to hear. Sing for me, pretty girl.” 

He took both of his huge hands and smacked them down at the same time on both of your thighs. Your body tried to make sense of the feeling, and you could literally feel the wetness begin to slip out from between your folds, making your pussy lips slide together as you writhed from the pain, trying to escape his trap. 

“Ah! Please, please, Captain. I’m sorry,” you begged, knowing how much he liked it. Second button pressed, you waited for his response. 

“You will be.”

You had truly underestimated his wrath this time, and you were worried that he might actually take it too far. 

He grabbed your pants and raked them down, exposing your ass and thighs. He hummed, running his fingers lightly over the damage,

“Mm, that’s gonna be a bruise, love.”

Price slapped you hard again, just like the first one, but this time on bare skin. You felt it rattle your bones in your body, and you seized up from the pain, involuntarily trying to escape it. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You had known you’d be a crying mess after his threat to chase you down, but you hadn’t expected to cry so soon. 

He grabbed your hair and yanked your body back into a cruel arch to meet his face as he hunched over you, menacingly. Price had a glare in his eyes that made you imagine him as some sort of animal. Beastial and primal in his ruthlessness. He kissed you, awkwardly and upside-down, licking you more than truly kissing your mouth. He whispered softly into your face, a heavy contrast to the pain he was causing to your body,

“Are you wet for me, love?”

You tried to whisper out a yes, but he was pulling your neck at such an angle that only the air escaped through your gritted teeth. He understood you anyway, letting your body fall back to the floor unceremoniously.

“You are, huh? Let’s see, shall we?” He pulled your ass cheeks apart like he was breaking open a pomegranate, witnessing your plump flesh turn red from his slaps and spill its juices from your swollen lobes.

He seemed pleased, letting out a low whistle and chuckling to himself, delicately fingering your drooling hole, soft and supple, pulsing with anticipation,

“Wow… look at you. My naughty girl craves her punishment, don’t she?”

“No! No, Captain, I - ah!”

The captain used his other hand to smack you hard and fast, three times in the same spot. 

“Oh, fuck. You do like it, love. I can tell. Every time I hit this fat arse...” he slapped you again for effect. You let out a sob. He continued, “...your pretty little cunt grabs my finger and doesn’t want to let me go.” 

He was moaning now, humping his hard length on your thigh, fully erect again and extremely aroused,

“I wanna feel that with my cock, love. Green?”

Price was good about checking in, especially in the middle of a scene. He was patient, and he gave you plenty of processing time, leisurely fingering you while he waited for your consent. You sniffled, nodding,

“Yes, Captain. Green.”

He slapped you twice and left his hand on your ass to fondle it roughly, shaking it like a dog with a rabbit in its mouth. 

“Good. Now, give me what I want.” 

You were openly crying now, tears rolling down your cheeks. You peeked over your shoulder to show him your tears and to watch him push himself into you. He had his shorts rucked down to his knees and his cock in his hand, pointing it towards its target, and as he found it, you watched Price’s face twist into that familiar agony you knew so well.

Teasing him had been enlightening, and you knew that he only made that face when he was on the brink of his pleasure. You decided to press button number three, and you slammed your hips back into him, forcing his cock inside of you all at once as opposed to the controlled entry that he had planned. His eyes went wide with shock, and he looked up at you, just in time to see you hide your grin. The captain’s gaze turned sinister. 

As much as you had tried to spear yourself onto him, you’d left a few inches on the table. His first order of business was to remedy that, ramming you down to his base, stretching you far beyond what you had bargained for. Then, he began to slap you in steady, harsh, evenly-spaced beats. He chose a cheek at random, so you never knew what to expect except for more burning pain.

Each time he slapped you, you cried out, and eventually, the pain warped itself into rhythmic bliss. You could feel yourself clench around him. He wasn’t even thrusting into you, but it felt like he was since your body was squeezing him so damn hard. 

“You naughty girl,” he berated you, slurring his words, “Thinking you could rush me, trying to fuck yourself on me like a…” every word forward was punctuated by a slap of its own, each harder and more merciless than the last, “...filthy. fuckin’. slag!”

He gathered you up by your shoulders, somehow reaching into you deeper than before at your new, arched angle, and you moaned from his effort, feeling your pussy melt around him like hot wax. Price groaned too, low and slow, and you could feel his rod throb inside of you, aching to come. With your chest high, he raked up your shirt and played with your nipples messily and without aim, growling into your ear,

“Such a good little slut for me. Always so goddamn starved for my bloody fuckin’ rod, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently, making sure to put a high-pitched whine on it for his benefit, and for yours.

Price began to thrust into you now, no less cruelly than his hand had treated you, hard and deep, bullying your womb with his fleshy, swollen head. 

“Mmm. Every time you pulse around me, it makes me want to come in you. Makes me mad with it. I imagine how it feels while I watch you on base, sittin’ in your fuckin’ uniform, listenin’ to my bloody briefings, starin’ at me all hungry like. Arghh!” He slapped you again and sighed contentedly, “I get so. bloody. hard.”

“Ah! Captain, please…” He was too deep. It was as if you could feel him in your throat. If you swallowed, you thought the spit would soak his cockhead. 

“It’s my favorite fuckin’ thing,” he smacked you over and over, fucking you into the concrete floor, thrusting your body forward with his massive weight. Your nipples were raw, scraping the ground, and you tried to use your hands to catch yourself, but he was too strong. 

He shuddered, shouting with a gravelly resonance, still slamming himself into you, pushing through his orgasm, and you felt him spilling into you, warmer than usual. It felt like he had poured hot caramel into your walls and was stirring it up in you, frothing his cream to a bubbling, sticky mess. 

Then, he stilled. Laying on top of you, he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath. He began to kiss your neck and shoulders. Then, he gently removed himself and pulled your body into his lap, leaning against the photocopier behind him. You were draped across him, clutching his chest and neck with your hands, crying softly into his skin from your twisted joy. He used his fingers to play inside of you gently, feeling his messy come and spreading it all over your folds, massaging it into your ass cheeks, smearing it across both of your holes. 

“You okay, love?”

“Yes, sir,” you kissed his chest as it was the closest thing your mouth could reach.

“Gonna come back to my quarters tonight? We need to ice that arse. Not gonna be able to run your drills tomorrow.”

“Drills?” Your voice couldn’t hide your panic. 

He chuckled, kissing your forehead,

“I warned you, love. Don't test me.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

[pimosworld]

Hi it’s me!! Since you are open to requests, could you please do a very fluffy smut with Joel where the reader is very insecure about her body and he makes her feel loved and it’s just so sweet?? In need of a comfort daddy Joel 🥺

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel wants you to see your body the way he does, a work of art.

CW-18+, MDNI, NSFW, A smidge of angst because (body image issues), Fluff,miscommunication, reader is not described other than not feeling herself lately, Soft dom Joel, smut, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, unprotected piv, cream pie, self acceptance, no use of y/n

WC-2.0k

[Joel Miller Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

A\N- My first Joel request and I would say I was feeling inspired by some body issues I’ve had lately. Thank you anon for this lovely request I hope I did it justice.

Clothing optional

There was a war going on in your house. Two separate wars to be exact, although you personally had no idea about one of them. 

  You’re currently on the frontlines in your room with a pile of mass casualties on the floor beside you. As you stand and face the mirror in front of you it’s unclear who the enemy is. Logic would have you believe it’s the clothes, the clothes that fit not long ago…that much you’re sure of. The cruel part of your brain, the part you couldn’t seem to shut off was telling you the enemy was your body. This body that has carried you through life, through ups and downs, through grief and happiness. Yet you stand here and shame it, calling it the enemy. 

  This dress, one that you were never really that fond of but could always rely on it fitting was the straw that broke the camel's back. It hugs in all the wrong places and definitely seems shorter than you remembered the last time you put it on. The lace at the seams is frayed a little and you swore you heard a stitch pop when you tried to unzip yourself. Now you’re frozen in fear that you’re stuck in this godforsaken thing and you’ve still not figured out what you’re wearing to impress Joel’s business partners. He was always so put together, what could they possibly think of you by his side. 

  “Sugar ya in there?” A knock on the bedroom door and Joel’s sweet voice causes you to panic. 

  You’re not even close to being ready. Tears streaming down your face, makeup ruined and your claustrophobia is aching to get out of this dress. 

  “Don’t come in.” Your garbled voice is evident all rushed out in a frenzy as you hear the door swing open. 

  ****

  The other war. 

  A war that’s been silently brewing in the house over the last few weeks. Joel noticed something different about you. It took him a lot longer than he’d cared to admit once he realized. He knew your body in and out. Every freckle, every line, every scar or birthmark. He’d made it his mission in life to be able to pick you out of a lineup blindfolded, only tasked with his hands or his mouth.

  He was insatiable for you. 

  He never understood when other men would say that after some time you won’t be as obsessed with each other. After marriage things become monotonous and it feels like a chore. He loved chores, being able to complete a task. If loving you and worshiping your body was a chore then he wanted that duty everyday. 

  At first he thought he must’ve said or done something to upset you. He knew his mouth could be pretty reckless at times so he gave you a few days to cool off.

  When you shy away from him or insisted your shirt stayed on during sex he started to grow suspicious. Maybe he hadn’t told you enough how much he appreciated your body. He thought he did a pretty good job of it but things get complicated when you’re in the heat of the moment. He made your brain go all fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate on what he was sayin’. 

  He’d had just about had enough when he walked into the kitchen the other day. You were reaching something high up on the shelf. Instead of asking if you needed help he just stood there ogling you as your shorts rode up, exposing the bottom of your ass. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He wanted to grip your thighs and bend you over the counter. He could just imagine it as he pounded into you from behind while you screamed his name, the ripples from his thrusts dancing across your skin. You looked so startled when you saw him there, his eyes blown black with lust as he stepped towards you. His heart broke a little when you scurried away and returned aggressively wrapping your robe around you. 

  ****

  A peace offering. 

  You knew there was no way he was staying outside at any sign of your distress. He enters your shared bedroom slowly like he’s approaching a frightened animal. You’re sure you look like one in your state. 

  He’s quite the opposite. Crisp black on black suit, his hair combed back out of his face to show off those beautiful brown eyes. His cologne wafts towards you with hints of bergamot and cedar wood. Just the sight of him has you weak in the knees. 

  “You wanna tell me what’s got ya all worked up?” He takes a tentative step towards you as you shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself. 

  He clicks his tongue, hating how defeated you look right now. “Listen sugar, I’m gonna count to ten.” He gently unfurls your arms from you and wraps them around his middle. “And by the time I get to ten.” You take a shuddering breath against his chest relishing in the comfort he’s bringing you. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong.” 

  “One.” 

  “None of my clothes fit, I hate the way I look right now and I don’t want to embarrass you tonight because I look ridiculous standing next to you in some dress that I hate.” It’s all rushed out and muffled into his chest as he cradles your head and rocks you back and forth. 

  “Is that all?” He teases as you nod your head. “I’m thinkin’ maybe there’s a little more.” 

  “Two.” 

  “Well…the other day.” You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him. “You were starin’ at me, in the kitchen. I couldn’t tell what you were thinking, but it didn’t look good.” 

  He thinks for a moment, back to his thoughts in the kitchen and you must have read him all wrong. 

  Joel steps back from you briefly as he undoes his tie, letting it drop to the floor. “The other day in the kitchen.” His hands start to work at the buttons on his dress shirt as he shucks it off his broad shoulders. “I wasn’t tryin’ to stare. I was tryin’ to keep my hands to myself.” 

  Your breathing picks up as he undoes the buckle on his slacks and lets them join the rest of his clothes. He palms himself through his boxers, his hard length growing at the slightest touch. 

  “Joel, what are you doing?” He doesn’t answer you as his hands grip your shoulders turning you toward the mirror. “We’re gonna be late for the dinner.” 

  He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth as you gasp. “We’re not goin’ to the dinner sweetheart.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours in the mirror as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do ya see how beautiful you are?” 

  His grip stops you from shaking your head no and you figure you might as well get with the program now, since he’s being so generous. 

  “You wanna do this your way or my way?” He asks with an eyebrow raised in question. 

  “Your way?” You shakily answer as he smiles all wide and kisses your cheek. 

  His hands make quick work of the zipper that was stuck and he eases it down your back. Carefully dragging it down your body, letting the fabric pool at your feet. His hand kneads your breast and soft whimper leaves your lips as it trails down your stomach. “You weren’t plannin on wearin’ any panties to this event?” His fingers dip lower circling your clit just barely teasing you. 

  “I…I hadn’t gotten around to them yet.” Your voice is shaky as he winds his other arm around you pulling you taught to his chest. 

  “Well good thing…you won’t be needin’ em tonight.” His words send a shiver down your spine as you stand there, naked as the day you were born trying to stay afloat. “Now, I asked you if you see how beautiful you are?” 

  “Yes.” You moan out as he slips two fingers inside, chuckling to himself as he works you open. 

  You cry out at the loss as he pulls them from you, holding them out in front of your face. It’s lewd the way he licks his fingers and his grip on you tightens as your legs threaten to give out at the sight. 

  “You want me to show ya’ what I was thinkin’ about in the kitchen?” Rhetorical question of course but you're feverishly nodding your head all the same. 

  He places a soft kiss to your neck as he guides you to the bed. Neither of you trusting your feet to carry you there. “Lay down for me baby girl. Face me.” You lay down on your stomach, resting your head on your arms as you watch him place the mirror near the edge of the bed. 

  His fingers tug down his boxers and it surprises you every time, the sheer weight of him. His cock twitches at the sight as if it knows you’re looking, admiring as you stop yourself from reaching at the angry red tip to swipe your finger through the bead of precum leaking out. 

  The bed dips behind you as he straddles your thighs. You can see him in the mirror watching you as you wiggle your ass, that fight part of your brain no longer concerned with the way you look. Not with the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants to eat you alive. 

  His fingers grip your flesh as he tilts your hips up, he’s rock hard as he slides the tip through your aching folds. You clench around nothing as you try to draw him in. 

  “Eyes on the prize baby.” You tear your eyes from him as you catch yours in the mirror. He wants you to watch, but not him. 

  You’re the prize. 

  He sinks down in one fluid motion and it takes every fiber of your being to keep your eyes open. You both moan in unison as he starts a slow agonizing pace. 

  Joel watches you as long as he can but he can’t tear his eyes away from the ripple of your skin as he pounds your flesh. Hitting something deep and devastating inside you as you clutch the sheets. Soft chants of his name punched out in his thrusts as he tries to hold off his release. It feels too good and just like his daydream. Having you bent over all fucked out, unable to form a coherent through. The only thought he wants running through that head is how perfect you are. 

  “Oh fuck…I’m the luckiest man alive, ya know that.” He grits out as he meets your eyes again. 

  His strong hands haul you up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. All you can manage is a head nod as you keen at this new angle. 

  You can feel the beads of sweat from his hair drip down onto you as you cling to his arms, he growls in your ear as your climax peaks over you, taking you by surprise as you cry out his name. 

  “This pussy was made for me darlin’.” 

  He can feel you suck him in and his balls draw up tight. Your front bathed in a sheen of sweat down your breasts and across your stomach as you ride out the aftershocks. His hips slow to a stutter as he holds your prone and pliant body, pulsing inside you as you let out a soft exhale. 

  You’re completely and utterly wrecked and he thinks you’re like one of those renaissance paintings with the naked ladies. Better than that because you’re real and you’re all his. 

  It takes you a moment to gather yourself as you lay there, Joel’s hand draped over your body at the edge of the bed. You can finally look in the mirror and see the war that was waging was all on your head. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Steve Harrington requested by anon 18+

“Baby, you gotta be quiet.”

An impossible request, really. Especially when Eddie had been cruel and rolled down the window, smirking as he did. The van was parked amongst other cars, nestled near the back and the cinema screen was playing some B horror movie that you weren’t really paying attention to. 

How could you? You were on Eddie’s lap, legs spread and hooked over his, your skirt barely hiding the fact that your underwear had been pulled off, scrunched lace on the drivers side seat. You had your head thrown back, lazing against Eddie’s shoulder, your back to his chest and his hands were inside your shirt, hands palming over your tits, silver rings catching at your peaked nipples. 

“Good?” Eddie whispered in your ear, voice low and raspy. “I know it is baby, look’it how messy you’ve made Steve.”

The other boy was kneeling in the footwell of the van, an impossible task in his BMW and the only reason he let Eddie drive. He was a pretty sight, hands bracketing your thighs, thumbs pulling at your folds to spread you a little more and he’d been kitten licking at your clit for the first fifteen minutes of the movie. Nothing more, nothing less, just feather light touches with the tip of his tongue, soft and lazy drags that kept making you whine. Eddie had hushed you, grinning, threatening to roll down the window until he finally did. 

If anyone walked past, they’d hear you. Worse, they’d probably see the top of Steve’s head, the way it moved as he nuzzled further into you, how Eddie snuck one hand from your shirt to wind his fingers into Steve’s hair and pull him even closer. 

Steve groaned at the touch, let himself fall slack for the other boy, pliant as he allowed Eddie to guide him, swearing quietly as he was pulled by his hair, tongue still out and dragging from your needy hole all the way through your folds until he was flicking at your clit again. Over and over until your back was arching and you could no longer discern between your noises and the awful screeching on screen. 

Eddie’s teeth grazed your neck, nipped at your earlobe and you could feel how fucking hard he was underneath you, cock nestled between your ass cheeks, denim between you. His chin was hooked over your shoulder, pupils blown wide and eyes almost black in the dim evening light, trained on Steve’s face as he pushed him almost a little too roughly into the seam of your pussy. Steve’s lips were glossy with you, pink and swollen and Eddie couldn’t wait to lick you off of him after you’d came. 

A car door slammed from the row in front of you and you could just make out the wheels of the snack cart coming closer. Soon enough, a freshman would be knocking on the van window, asking if anyone wanted some popcorn. Eddie must’ve heard it too, ‘cause he was laughing softly, pulling your legs wider and letting his hand wander down to your cunt. He cooed, pulling the hood of your clit back until you gasped, showing you off to Steve. 

“Better make her come, Harrington, unless you both wanna get caught.” Eddie pouted, brows stitched together in faux upset, like he was disappointed in you both. You would’ve laughed if Steve hadn’t wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, tongue pulsing over it. “There you go, huh? You got it handsome, you’re gonna make our girl come so good, aren’t you, big boy?”

[t-lostinworlds]

Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose. 

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Argenti, Sunday, Sampo, and Gepard finding out their s/o made different plushies of them to cuddle?

Gepard;

This poor guy is blushing to the high heavens upon meeting his plush counterpart that bore a cute yet stoic expression.

The lil guy was no bigger than your hand.

‘There isn’t more of them is there?’ He’d ask and you smiled as you then proceeded to show him the countless others that you’ve made in your spare time.

The poor man was even more flustered than before if that was even possible to begin with. I mean you even made one where he’s holding a cute -but dead- potted plant while pouting!

Despite how flustered he may seem upon seeing himself in cute plushy form, he was really impressed with how good they came out and found the attention to detail you had amazing because it meant everything he’s ever told you was incorporated into each and every plush with love and affection.

‘I’m just curious, what made you want to make these plushies?’ He’d ask and when you told him it was to cuddle something while he was away doing his job.

He feels guilty for not spending as much time as he’d like with you because he throughly enjoys being with you and becomes visibly upset when is needed elsewhere, but he’s never been one to not uphold duty. ‘I’ll do better next time.’ He’d tell you.

You put your hands on his shoulders. ‘You already are doing better Gepard, I know how important this job is for you and I’m not going to ask you to choose between me or your job, that’s cruel of me as your partner to make you chose between two things you love with all your heart.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling it grow warm under your lips.

‘But-‘

‘But nothing.’ You cut him off. ‘I’ll always be here waiting for you and bedsides,’ you lifted the plush!Gepard, smiling when you saw the blonde blush. ‘I’ll always have you close by in plush form to love on and cuddle with.’ You added cheekily as Gepard held you close and burrowed his face into your neck, cuasing you to laugh at his cuteness.

Argenti:

Is utterly in love with us plush counterpart and appraise your attention to detail made to the plush also, from his pretty eyes, cherry red hair and so forth.

Asks you if there’s more plushies that you’ve made of him while kissing your hands in thanks for their creativity and skill.

You of course said yes.

‘You have a true talent here my beloved flower,’ Argenti praises as he holds the plush of him gently in his hands. ‘This is truly magnificent.’

Your flustered at this point from all of his genuine and sincere comments. ‘Oh they aren’t that great-‘

Argenti then looks at you with wide eyes. ‘Aren’t that great? My beloved rose, your plushies are beyond great! They are beautiful in their own right.’ The cherry haired knight says as he holds your face in his hands. ‘So please don’t doubt your capabilities when they are only just beginning to shine.’

Probably Alamo cried when you tell him the reason you made plush!Argenti was so you could still have something that reminds you of him to keep you company while he was away.

Sunday:

Finds it amusing and adorable as he watched you cuddle against the plush version of himself as though your life depended on it.

‘These are truly impressive my dear.’ He’d say as he looks upon the other plushies of him that you’ve made this far, all dressed in different attires and bore different expressions with deep interest before looking back at you. ‘Is there a reason behind them all? Revisiting an old habit perhaps in crocheting?’ He adds.

‘No, not really, I just wanted to make a plush that I could cuddle with when you’re away.’ You admitted truthfully and Sunday felt his heart melt at your sweet confession as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

‘I apologise for making you miss me and I apologise for the lack of time between us but I’m glad you found a way to compensate for my absence.’ Sunday says as he boops plush Sunday on the nose. ‘Though now I’m here, I’m sure our plush friend here can be relived from his duties for the night?’ He then adds and you blink at him.

Was he…was Sunday jealous of his plush counter part? How cute was that.

‘I’m sure he can take the night off.’ You obliged and set the plushie down on your desk and you joined Sunday in bed, cuddled up and quickly lulled by his bodily warmth into a comfortable sleep.

Sampo:

Can and will show off his little plush counter part to anyone and everyone within view and would listen to him for longer then five minutes.

But imagine his surprise when he finds out that you have other variations of him, his ego skyrockets to unfathomable heights!

‘You must be super in love with me to make a plush of me! How embarrassing!’ Sampo says.

‘Sampo we’ve been dating for a while now.’ You replied with a blank face.

Anyways Sampo loved the little plushies of him and would even take one with him when you weren’t looking to send you pictures of the adventures of plushie sampo through the entire day.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to get made at him for stealing your plushie because the pictures were too cute.

Hell you might even find him cuddle up to one of them if you were carful enough.

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place. 

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?” 

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with. 

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry. 

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?” 

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly. 

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. 

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off. 

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up. 

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now? 

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him. 

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take. 

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed. 

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street. 

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!” 

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?” 

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him. 

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him. 

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down. 

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?” 

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic. 

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours. 

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?” 

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly. 

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining. 

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall. 

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly. 

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile. 

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps. 

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair. 

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint. 

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida. 

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile. 

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm. 

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay. 

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you. 

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him. 

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair. 

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand. 

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?” 

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later. 

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall. 

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost. 

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency. 

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on. 

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist. 

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again. 

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.” 

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile. 

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down. 

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this. 

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off. 

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy. 

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity. 

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble. 

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter. 

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved. 

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?” 

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having. 

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it. 

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you. 

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly. 

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.” 

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this. 

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him. 

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights. 

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. 

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away. 

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless. 

“Deal.”

[yandere-romanticaa]

I'm just imagining how Gilbert von Obsidian would admire the pretty engagement ring he put on your finger as you eat breakfast together.

He has you brought back to him to his kingdom, dressed in the finest midnight black silk, the scent of fresh roses still lingering on your flesh as he indulges in the softness of your neck. Sometimes he just allows his lips to linger, to tease you like the cruel man that he is.

Other times, his patience snaps like a twig and he just bites.

The bites are never gentle. They're rough and sharp, the bruise would stay there for weeks to come and don't you dare cover them up.

You would just upset him if you did that, and that is not something you want to do.

It gets harder and harder to focus on the food in front of you as Gilbert just keeps going at it, his red eye twinkling like a ruby, its sheer redness nearly blinding you with its intensity.

You are at an impasse - do you fight him? Your spirit is still intact and you have no desire to stay stuck in this gilded cage he set up for you. But you just think back to all the blood that was spilled because of you, how many people lost their lives because they helped you, none of which knew that you were engaged to the deranged beast prince of Obsidian.

Gilbert sinks his teeth into you once more and you are brought back down to reality.

There really was no fighting him anymore, was there?

You let out an accidental little yelp, much to Gilbert's pleasure. You feel him grin, his pearly whites tainted with your thick, scarlet blood, just how he liked it. He won, he knew this.

He was just happy that you finally were aware of that fact too.

[privitivium]

AHHHH FUCK YEAAHHHHH YAN FATHER!!!!!

I can see him being devilishly charming, one of, if not the most charismatic person you've ever known. He does an amazing job as a CEO, and there are countless people swooning over him but he coldly rejects them, only super soft to you <<333

The way that he'd try to act dominant but when it gets to it, he just ends up being a bratty sub bottom, or maybe just bratty in the beginning but he folds so quickly under you, almost immediately begging you to keep going and praise himhhdbdbskkhshshhh

OR OR, maybe a soft top?? He can be rough, ofc ofc, but no matter how sweet or cruel he is, he loves your flushed, teary eyed face

im so glad you share the same sentiments wtf ?!?!?!! i love the first idea so much bro;; bratty sub bottom fatherly yan,,,, im short circuiting ekekekskkximajdf

only ideas for now til i get it sorted out to actually make stuff of this loser ekekie

only thing im iffy about is reffering to him as father / dad / whatever like motherly yan.... doesnt feel the same to me,,, maybe. i think i could get behind calling him dad as a joking thing at first but then actually calling him dad like motherly yan .....mhmm. yeah. calling him daddy as a joke at first while fooling around at his place and he gets all shy and shit,... ur saying sorry and that you didnt mean to call him that; slip of the tongueㅡthinking that wasnt his thingㅡbut then he's like yeah totally... totally call me that... i'll be ur daddy... but not in the dominating way not at all bro. he'd try to be but it wouldnt work out because he's a flustered mess around you and you dont even have to try. thats what gets him pissed off. you dont even have to try to get him riled up bro. an older guy, maybe like what... 10, 15 years older ??? either way he's older than you.

what i'm thinkin is that you probably get a job under him somehow, thinking he's a huge fucking jackass ( from what ur few competent coworkers tell you, others that are romantically interested in him only rant about his handsomeness and chivalry. ) and come to find out, when you finally meet himㅡhe's a pretty polite, "relaxed" guy... you don't buy into what your coworkers are telling you about his jackassery... i mean, the dude buys you coffee? what is there not to like about this fucking dude. he's handsome, has money, and is totally making the moves on you?? then actually witnessing him chewing out one of ur coworkers for fucking up the printer by accidentally making "too many"?? he's so scary, yelling at the poor lady without restraint... very unprofessional in your eyes but that chick, still is deeply in love with him??

ㅡHow.??.. he's terrifying, like all "fatherly" types when angry - catches sight of you at the corner of his eye and immediately grows embarrassed getting caught raging - still pissed off but weakly apologizes before making a hasty escape... after that you kinda avoid him, ignoring his attempts of trying to make friends with you, (ㅡa little irritated with how your coworkers seem to seriously swoon over the guyㅡ) and he gets pissed off at that. corners you,,, asking you to come into his office so he can confront you and in his mind, hopefully lead somewhere sexual. and no it doesn't, not at first... after he confronts you, you leave. As simple as that. and he gets even more upset!?!! stewing in his sexual frustration and anger about his incompetent inferiors,,,, soon ending up with you fucking him; shoving his face in his bed while calling him daddy auahghaughhgagh. bro would totally think that he's the dominant one before getting fucked in the ass and overstimulated and left in his own mess sprawled out on his luxurious ass bed. UGH

[siriusblackslut]

The one where Coryo shows his true colours after a disagreement.

As Coryo’s best friend, you should have anticipated this.

Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader

Word: 5909

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, soft dark, obsessive behaviour, yandere

Sometimes, Coryo was glad you were so stupidly naïve.

He hated it most times, you navigating the big bad world so clueless as to how it revolved around a pretty darling like you, when you would offer shy smiles to hungry eyes raking the length of your body, when you would entertain unpalatable opinions clearly devised for your sole attention, or when you would introduce him as your dearest friend to puzzling spectators moments after he greeted you with a peck at the corners of your mouth. 

Today though, he was so fucking grateful, for between the happy sips of posca you had announced just how thrilled you were with your university acceptance letter, as though you were expecting him to cheerily send you off to the other side of the city.

It was sour news, but Coryo was glad he was made aware of them sooner than later. 

“Away?” he demanded sharply.

The room settled into a tense silence broken only by his curt paces across the length of the room, and your eyes followed him expectantly.

When you didn’t reply, you weren’t sure what with from the tone of his voice, Coryo was quick to make his displeasure be known. “I wish you had told me earlier so I could discourage you.”

“But it’ll be so good for me,” you tried earnestly once more and Coryo thought you were positively deluded if you had ever thought there was a chance he was going to let you go.

He reached you in two strides, his thumb caressing your chin in a way that was gentle yet firm. “Don’t leave.”

It was clear he wasn’t asking, which made him even more disappointed when he saw your expectant expression give way to a frown because you were making this harder on purpose. Coryo thought it was a shackle sometimes, to want to breathe, live and own you.

“You’re upset, I unders--”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe how angry I am.”

And oh, bless you, you though he was worried about you, and you continue your reassurances that were endearing at first, but Coryo was finding them increasingly irritating.

You squeezed his forearm still stroking your chin, giving him a small smile, “I can handle myself.” The clench of his jaw went unnoticed, “And besides, Sejanus will be there too.”

Coryo hated sharing you, even in speech, and that revolting name rolling of your tongue so effortlessly like it belonged there replacing his own, it made him livid, and he thought it was the last straw.

“So, he can offer you a fortune?” He let his voice fill with scorn and allowed his face to twist into a cruel sneer. The thumb at your chin gentle just moments earlier now dug into your skin, “some more unsavoury opinions?”

“I thought he was your friend.”

Coryo let the silence sit and it was telling, so telling, in fact, that you were now questioning your friendship with him, rightfully so, and it was in this moment of rebellious defiance that you snapped at him and you had never snapped at him before, “Then I’ll be fine on my own then, without him or you.”

Such fierce words spoken in a wobbly tone, had Coryo thinking you had forgotten your place. He thought, in some way, he was to blame because he had been far too lenient on you and it was clear now that you had not respected the privilege of freedom that he had allowed. He would have to remedy that, and he wasn’t particularly sorry either, only sorry that you would think him unreasonable but really, he just wanted you to mold into the prettiest version of yourself and flourish with him.

When he took a step forward, his solid frame looming uncomfortably over you, Coryo had already decided that you weren’t going to leave because he simply could not fathom a world where you were not a mere arm’s reach away, and he was resolute that he would not either. He was deciding now, only how he would break it to you, and even through your thick naivety you sensed something shift.

“You’re staying,” he said.

It was an unsteady step back. “No.”

“I won’t say it again.”

It tired him, you had barely opened your mouth and he just knew it was another misplaced objection and so he silenced you instead, digging his fingers at your jaw and pulling you up to devour those pesky words. It was a hard kiss, one of nose bumps and teeth clashes that was entirely different from the usual shy easing brushes of lips, but Coryo thought he had to start somewhere more obvious now.

A muffled cry between his swirling tongue and you had hardly begun a protest, but he was there too, determined to swallow it up by planting more suffocating kisses until you were gasping for his breath.

“Fine without me huh?” Coryo repeated your words between each kiss across your mouth, lips, tongue, cheeks, chin and everywhere he could get his lips on.

To him, it was so intrinsically natural the way you slotted up against him, but for you and he was mocking your words now, it was a confusing turn of events. Mouth entangled with his depriving you of air, the hot skims of his fingers across your waist leaving a blazing trail in their wake and that dull ache blooming in your belly, it all made you disoriented and you pushed away at his head in retaliation for some rational distance, but he would never give you any now. Coryo had just tasted you and now you were leaving him high and dry and aching for more? He would even settle for that glimmer of sweat at your neck and he latched on, sucking pretty kisses across your nape until he could feel your pounding pulse and it made him drunk, the sheer power he had over you because you wanted him too, you just didn’t know yet.

“You just need a reminder of how much you need me,” he was planting sloppy kisses up your throat and his hands left their post at your waist, roaming, roaming and roaming until hungry fingers fiddle at the hem of your skirt pushing up and up until it bunched at your waist and the sinking feeling at your belly settled uncomfortably when you finally understood what he meant.

“I thought we were friends,” you mumbled weakly and Coryo was almost offended that you hadn’t spared a thought to the natural progression of your relationship, as if that truncated milestone was all that was destined of your relationship. Still, it was an improvement from the empty words of assurance, and he liked it much better when you had submitted, even if it was reluctantly.

“And you said you love me, and yet you’re leaving me,” he was murmuring into your skin still continuing his onslaught of rough kisses across your neck, “so it seems we were both not entirely truthful with each other.

Itching hands wandered up your thigh and Coryo was delighted to find your panties already wet from just curious fingers and persistent lips. Though you hadn’t grasped it yet, your body sure had and Coryo would make your mind follow once he was finished with you.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he whispered encouragingly and his breath seared your skin. “That you love me.”

“I do!”

Fingertips caught the hood of your clit through your sopping panties, and he began to trace light circles at the drenched fabric, just enough for you to feel the beginnings of what Coryo could offer.

“Like lovers do.”

It made you shiver, and you exhaled into his chest. There were many realisations to be had in this pleasure haze. “Coryo--”

“That you won’t leave,” and he pressed another kiss into your neck, fingers drawing tight patterns at your clad clit until you ached for him like he did for you.

“That you’ll stay.”

“No-- oh--” A moan tumbled through your lips before you could stop it and you pressed your face deeper into his chest to muffle them out of embarrassment even though Coryo thought it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.

All shy from a slipped moan and he wondered whether you even notice the way you were grinding against his thighs soaking his trousers, clearly yearning for something more than the light skim of his thumb barely there at your panty-clad clit. It amused him greatly, your outward unwillingness even though you belonged to him, and when those silly unintelligible murmurs of protests gave way to breathy gasps, but Coryo still thought you had yet to learn your place in his life, he moved away, palm bumping against your thigh under your skirt.

The betrayal, disappointment and relief on your face, it made Coryo triumphant because in some selfish way, he wanted you to understand exactly what you had subjected him through all these years.

“Go on,” he said, “just tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll make you feel real good.”

And despite your body shaking with unresolved tension, you still managed to shuffle back, head shaking defiantly.

Coryo would be impressed by your composure if he was not furious.

“No?” and he was onto you once again, consuming your lips until he was so sure you were inside him because then you would have to stay. Nose skimming your cheek and foreheads pressed flushed together, and all you could taste was his tongue swirling inside yours. It was working, him chipping away at your will, but still, you gave him a rational, albeit breathless answer.

“No,” you murmured because this was your dearest friend who had you all frazzled and flushed, and you swatted away at his wandering hands trailing between your thighs once again, but it was to no avail because Coryo was determined now, he would not have you slipping through his fingers because he had worked too hard at you and at this, he would have you impaled on them instead.

Forceful fingers yanked at your panties, and then it was all flesh against flesh with Coryo rubbing at your clit before he worked a knuckle into you.

“Gonna show you then,” he snarled. There was a lot more friction now, the sloppy sounds as he fucked his fingers into you reverberating around the room was proof of it, and the dizzying ache that returned twice as hard made your knees weak and you stumbled, plunging yourself deeper on his digits. 

“Tell me you need me.” 

It was a choked sob that made it out your lips, but it was still thick and full of arousal. “I can’t.”

“Of course, you can darling,” he cooed, and it was confusingly kind against the plunge of his fingers into your cunt. You only whined in response and whilst Coryo thought it sounded delightful, it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear.

“I know you want to, just wanna hear it from your pretty lips.”

In case you needed another reason for a confession, he curled his fingers up paired with another plunge, fleshy pad brushing up delicately somewhere special and deep inside you. It felt so terribly good, but your waterline shimmered instead because the blossoming heat in your stomach, it made you feel so guilty because it meant you were willing, didn’t it? Now, that was all a bit too much to bear. “It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Coryo repeated and it was unbelievably cold, making you shiver even in this hot flush.

You took another shaky step back, but he was already there with his chest pressed flushed against yours, fingers still pumping inside you while his thumb still circled your clit and it made your head empty and legs unsteady, and you pushed him but it only provoked him further because you were denying him his rightful property.

“You think it’s fair to leave me?” he growled and slipped another finger in spitefully, and the stretch was painfully delicious, “We’d promise we’d take care of each other, remember?” 

He didn’t let you reply, he was almost certain it would just be another string of silly protests judging by your shiny eyes. Instead he captured your lips in another hot and heavy kiss that was full of angry scrapes until on his tongue lingered the sweet metallic taste of you and Coryo was drunk on you, you in his lips, in his palms and now in his throat trickling like fire into his belly.

It was intoxicating for him, but painful for you and had you reeling back to tuck your head at his chest once again and Coryo’s only solace was that you were now rocking your hips, plunging yourself down to meet every thrust of his fingers.

“So sure you don’t need me?” he gave you another chance and he prayed you take it because it was hurting him now, when he knew he could shower you in such other-worldly pleasure.

You only burrowed your head deeper into his chest, still griding on his fingers. Unfortunate, but unsurprising and so he waited, and he didn’t have to wait for long, not when his thumb was busy lavishing your clit and you were doing half the work fucking yourself on his digits, until your breath hitched against his chest and you were shuddering in his arms with your cunt gushing drenching his sleeves before he pulled his hand away once more and the blooming pleasure waned away into nothing, leaving a dull ache in its wake.

Knees buckling and you stumbled back, glaring at him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. It made Coryo’s heart ache, but he thought this lesson more important than your temporary upset at him, if only you had confessed.

“I don’t need you,” you snapped at him, and the self-assuredness in your voice had him thinking you were so clearly deluded. As if your cheeks weren’t running with tears from what he had withheld from you, as if you hadn’t just been rolling your hips against his outstretched fingers only moments ago. 

“Sure, seemed like you did when you were fucking my fingers.”

“I can take care of myself!”

He really did respect your persistence if it was not just so disobediently misplaced.

You were glowering at him now, despite the flush of your cheeks and Coryo wondered just how naïve you could be. Were you really that completely clueless as to the way your body craved him? How could you retreat when he could feel you twitching to be in his arms?

“I don’t want to be mean, you know,” he was advancing again, leaning in and it made you feel a bit dizzy. “But I will if you keep being this uncooperative.”

His intoxicating scent, the caress of his thumb at your cheek, your sticky thighs and that angry unreleased ache buzzing between your legs, it was all too much and you moved away, just to think, but Coryo was right there too, he would follow you to the end of the earth until you were in his arms.

A mere whisper away but Coryo still thought there was a vast expanse between the two of you because you just weren’t getting it, it was almost insulting now. He closed the space with another devour of your lips until you were gasping for breath and pushing him away yet again, but he was there and everywhere, lips all aggressive and all-consuming locking into your unwilling ones until he was smothering you, suffocating you in all his heavenly adoration, until it seemed like your only respite was to move your lips against his.

Even if they were sluggish and clumsy lips smacking against his sloppily unable to keep up with his heated ones, your receptiveness drew a groan of appreciation from him and it was that, the low rumble of his throat that snapped you back to reality, because this was your sweet Coryo Coryo coryocoryo, your dearest friend, despite that shameful heat rising between your legs.

It caught him by surprise this time when you pried his head away, stung even more after your momentary clarity, especially when he had really thought you had given in. Now you were just standing there with your lips swollen hanging agape and coated with his spit, peering up at him all doe-eyed through your lashes glimmering with tears, just standing there looking pretty like that was all you could do for him, and it made Coryo so furious because you could be more.

You caught a glimpse of him half possessed, but it was only for a moment before he had pounced back on you and the assault on your lips now borders on painful with his teeth scraping against your already sensitive lips.

“Gonna remind you myself then,” Coryo hissed between each rough kiss. It was suffocating, insistent lips and his towering frame pushed up against you threatening to blend into one, and you were still moving back and backandback until your calves were digging into the mattress because your lips felt so raw against his now, but he was still there, and there was no room to retreat anymore and so you arched your back away instead, anything away from his prodding tongue inside your mouth because it was painful, dizzying, electrifying but youcouldn’tseemtobreathe and you were leaning back leaningleaning until you were falling--

You toppled onto his bed, and it was a welcomed respite, wracked gasps slipping from your throat in a desperate attempt catch your breath, but the moment was brief, and the dire reality sank in your belly where Coryo had bunched the excess fabric of your skirt. 

He had taken his position on his knees; it was humiliating but not in front of you because he wanted you worshipped. Then, you would know just how much he revered you, adored you, loved you, to the point of complete devotion.

Cold fingers pried at your warm thighs and Coryo took advantage of your momentary daze to hook your left leg over his shoulder, his right palm pressing your other leg to ease your thighs apart. The ebbing pleasure reawakened once more from his hot breath at your cunt and the light trace of his digits up your slit. It was embarrassing, vulnerable and had you letting out another protest in retaliation for the premature sparks between your legs, but Coryo thought your warm slick coating his fingers said otherwise. 

He could tell that you were panicking now, thighs squirming against his shoulders as you began to grasp just exactly what he was doing. Arching your back in an attempt to buck him off but it smeared your pussy against his face instead, your clit bumping at his nose and your hips stuttered, a strangled moan escaping your pursed lips.

“You can like it, you know,” Coryo murmured and he was quick to indulge himself, running his tongue up your slit and he was careful to collect your precious essence, not a drop wasted, to swirl at your sensitive pearl of nerves until your quivering thighs were squeezing his head and you were gushing once more. 

And despite the many objections tumbling from your mouth, your body was so compliant, rewarding his efforts doubly and Coryo lapped away gratefully until you were dribbling down his chin and even then he brought his fingers to scoop them up before licking clean at them too because you were just so tasty and he was starved of you.

If gluttony was a sin, then why is he in heaven?

You were still writhing on the bed, still attempting to push him away at his head and it made Coryo even more determined if anything because he had never not gotten what he wanted, deserved and was entitled to. Slipping his left palm under your arse, he pried your flesh apart before pressing his face into your pussy, lips latching onto your clit, and it stayed there suckling because he would make an example of it now, that he was never going to let you go on his own accord regardless of how you begged him to. Hardly now, it seemed, when he flicked his tongue at your puffy pearl of nerves drawing another muffled cry, but you were no longer jerking back now.

It was taking less and less time for Coryo to drag you back over to the edge until you were teetering precariously once again, and he was completely delighted to find you already pulsing around him when he sank his fingers into you.

“You’re close again,” he murmured into your pussy and it was mocking because not a moment after he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit and you were protesting?, leaning back to admire his handiwork of your pretty pink pussy all swollen and glistening with slick a mix of his saliva and your arousal. He collected it up with a broad swipe of his tongue, finishing with a flick at your clit, all whilst still knuckles deep pumping into you, filling the room with obscene squelches.

“Can feel you clench around my fingers.”

“Oh--"

When Coryo felt your scrambling fingers again, it was to pull him in this time, as if he wasn’t already so intimately acquainted with your sweet cunt. It filled him with pride, that he could make you feel this good but just because he adored you didn’t mean he wasn’t going to discipline you, and if it meant taking your release away so you would understand just how intricately intertwined the both of you were, he would do it.

It began to ebb away as quickly as it had come, and it is in this moment of desperation that you reached for him. Blonde locks tangled within your fingers, but Coryo was still restrained, only soft kitten brushes against your bundle of nerves bringing you to another world of pain because it just wasn’t enough, only enough to keep you flustered and wanting but not enough for you to tumble over into the territory of pure euphoria. Even his right palm pressed against your tummy was firm, he couldn’t let you ride his face just yet, no glimmer of a chance at your own release that wasn’t at Coryo’s calculating hand.

All pretence abandoned and it wounds your pride.

“Please.” It was a whisper, but a polite start.

“Come on, princess.”

“Coryo,” There was no protest in his name anymore, only a pleading sigh of his name catching in your throat like a desperate hoarse prayer to something divine, and it made him hard.

“That’s it.”

“Please--” you tried once more but your voice breaks instead into a moan of frustration.

Your only consolation was that you weren’t the only one who was in suffering. Even in the midst of pressing gentle kisses at your cunt keeping you at the torturous edge where there was only one clear resolve, Coryo was also begging you  “Let me make you cum,” and the neediness in his voice was embarrassing because only you could resort him to this humiliation. “Just want to hear you say it.”

Another curl of his fingers, swirl of his tongue.

“Admit it.”

You were sobbing now, how could you let it go again? When it was just within reach, you could feel it brushing at your fingertips and at your thighs between Coryo’s curls, and the thought of it reducing to a disappointing barely-there wane, it brought salty tears to your eyes.

Your thighs tightened at Coryo’s shoulders in a poor attempt to keep him there, but you could feel him beginning to shift away and with it, your high slipping away too.

It was a dangerous game, but you were at the edge of your resolve, and you’d do whatever to convince him now, tell him that you would stay, that you would be whatever he wanted you to be, if that meant you could topple over the edge.

You could reason with him later, you would.

Reason what?

“Need you Coryo,” you gasped, “I need you, will do whatever you want.”

It was a little dazed and Coryo thought that you could work on the delivery, but he was happy with that nonetheless, rewarding you with a drive of his fingers even deeper catching every sensitive spot deep within you whilst his tongue continued its attention on your clit.

Whatever he wanted and he told you just exactly what between greedy mouthfuls of your pussy, “You won’t leave.”

It was pure desperation that spoke. “I won’t!”

Coryo lets you fall apart for him because of him. He released his palm at your belly button, letting you ride your orgasm out on his face with your thighs wrapped tight around his shoulders, his little angel so devilishly hysterical, until his face was completely smeared full of your delicious slick and he thought that he could drown in it happy.  

And when you came down from your high, it was still not enough because he wanted more of you and all of you and Coryo had a point to make that you needed him, you said it yourself. His efforts only doubled, indulging in the tastiest treat he had ever had, suckling at your oversensitive clit and needed his fingers drove deeper into your pussy until you were humming with unbridled pleasure that even the gentlest strum of his tongue had you thrashing around his shoulders, had your fingers tugging at his hair painfully as you soared and fell once again in the matter of seconds, another ragged pant dragged from your throat.

And when Coryo thought that you, your body and mind, had finally understood that you belonged to him wholly, he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit, pressing light kisses at your thighs before he pried himself of his position lodged between your trembling thighs.

When you came down from your peak, white ebbing back to the dimly lit room, you could make out his pale cheeks flushed pink and his hair messy an irrefutable evidence of your willingness. Coryo gave you a crooked grin, before he slumped back on the bed next to you, legs tangled with yours.

“I knew you would come to your senses.”

The reality of what you had agreed to settled disagreeably in the pit of your stomach once all that tension had disappeared.

His fingers, sticky from your cum, cradled your flustered cheek. It was as though he was reminding you, encapsulating you so you would never leave. He pressed another giddy kiss at your lips, and you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Tell me again,” Coryo panted against your lips; it was dizzying to be victorious.

But when he felt your cheeks wet against his, he wasn’t entirely convinced that you understood the seriousness of the events that had just transpired, and he simply refused to entertain your disobedience any longer.

“For fucks sake, just be good.” Now Coryo adored you, but he needed absolutes and not empty promises made in a frenzy of pleasure. Even though you had understood, you had yet to completely surrender to your happy fate by his side. He thought, maybe you just needed one final push.

His lips were locked onto yours once again, hot and hungry and before you could let out another string of those ungrateful whines and unwarranted objections which would only be ten-fold when the rattle of his zipper echoed through the room.

“You’re selfish, but I can put up with that,” he chastised while plying your lips open with his rough ones.

 “Wait--” your voice welling with alarm, but Coryo swallowed that one too, planting another kiss at your lips.

“Cus you’re mine.”

You were. His perfect stubborn girl who was now kicking feebly at his legs to no avail, limbs and lives too deeply intertwined.

Coryo could feel his composure slipping. He had been so sweet on you, but that was before his cock was pressing against your soft thighs. It was all instinct now because you were the sweetest temptation he had ever had to resist, but now he gets to indulge in you now and he sure was making a scene of it, groaning into your mouth while he guides his cock under your skirt, pressing it into you until his cockhead was gliding across your silky folds.

There was a bit of give before he breached into you, and see, he was right, he always was. You were enjoying yourself too whilst Coryo defiled you so that you could only belong to him, with your breathless whimpers tumbling drunkenly into his mouth, and he was sure not to kiss those away.

“You said you’ll do whatever I wanted.”

You did. Maybe in a haze of confusing arousal, but those were your words.

“And I want you to stay. With me.” Coryo murmured between each moment apart from your swollen lips, between each snap of his powerful hips driving into you. “I command it.”

He was sure to make every single rut into you harsh, until his hipbones were mashing against yours painfully because just look at how you could take every one of them, look at the way each sore bruise against your bony flesh went straight into your core and look at the way your wet walls clung onto every single bulging vein his cock had to offer you. Could there be any other reason why if you weren’t made for him and him for you?

And yet you were still refusing your happy fate.

A broken sob from your throat and Coryo could feel you tighten on his cock, clenching impossibly tight and he supposed that if he loved you, that meant every stubborn part, and even that was getting easier to love with how you were pulsing around him with every cry, and he thought he could grow to enjoy the chase.

And even that seemed to be waning now because you were conceding with every forceful fuck into you until you were reciprocating, your fingers tracing his chest while lips clung onto his, nature taking its course.

When Coryo pulled apart from your lips to lean back, it was to make you watch the way your lithe body beaded with sweat, not just accepting but welcoming his numbing assault from the way your pussy stretched, shaped and memorised him, so that even when he wasn’t there, he still was, there and everywhere. The outline under your navel bulging with every thrust was proof of it, and marked just how deep he was inside of you, conquering depths previously untouched.

“Look at it,” he snarled, bringing his thumb to trace at the bulge and it drew sparks across your skin. “Is there anywhere more fitting?”

You were just a mixture of sobs and moans when you peered up to blink at him dumbly, and Coryo didn’t think you could look any prettier but here you were, more beautiful and debauched than ever impaled on his cock. 

“Unless you want me to stop?” 

He was offering now, only because he knew you could never agree.

He snickered, “No, I didn’t think so, wouldn’t have lasted a single day without me.”

Gasping all over the place and it made Coryo swell with pride because he had done it, stamped out any ounce of bitterness and resentment you had towards him for just doing what was best for you, that was writhing and brimming full of unadulterated want desperate for release.  

“I won’t be there to make you feel good like this,” and he was gloating now adding to that messy whirlpool of emotions that were shame, awe and desperation pulling fat tears down your cheeks, but Coryo knew you better and thought that awful reality too painful for you to wrap your little head around.

“Gotta take care of you in every way.”

“Please!” and if had known that all it required for you to stay was to fuck you silly, he would have done it a lot sooner.  

“You’re not going to leave me, not ever, you do understand why that is don’t you?

Because he loved you, you understood that much now, but at what cost?

Coryo demanded an answer, his hips snapping up to bruising into you deliciously, but his pace stuttered.

Surely, he won’t take this away from you. You were ruined now, because he had made you feel better than your clumsy fingers could ever make yourself feel, reached places inside you that you hadn’t known ever existed, led you to heights so unimaginably heavenly with easy strokes. Coryo knew you completely, better than you knew yourself.  

So,what matter the cost when he loved you? When could make you feel this good, when he wanted to, he had made that abundantly clear. You thought that you could stay, if it meant you could feel like you this indefinitely.

“Tell me so I know.”

You gave him something better than an answer, you gave him a confession.

“I love you.”

Coryo thought it sounded perfect on your lips.

“You won’t leave me then.” It was unlike him, so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“I won’t.”

“Promise it.”

“I promise.”

Coryo believed you. It was hard not to when the very proclamation had you rolling your head back on his pillows, your arms outstretched pulling him into a weak embrace, legs curling around his pistoning thighs drawing him unbelievably close until it was unclear where your body ended and his started and until you were one with him. He could feel you fluttering once again and it was even tighter this time around his fat cock instead of his fingers, until you came completely undone in a string of euphoric gasps.

For him though, it was your complete surrender to him, finding immense pleasure and unconditional solace in him and the years of frustrated anticipation melted away and Coryo groaned too joining your dazed gasps as he spilled himself deep inside you.

He thought, in this hazy reality, that just to be sure, he might just have to knock you up too, then you would really have to stay with him.

“You’ll write back,” he said in laboured breaths between each skim of his lips across your forehead when he finally slumped down against you. His tone was stern and gentle, there was no need to be mean anymore when you had been so compliant and obedient for him. “Write and tell them you’ve changed your mind.”

When you did not respond only turning away shyly, he peered down at you intently to see your waterline glimmering once more and he brushed the wetness away because he knew for certainty that they were only happy ones now. His prized possession brimming so full of bliss her eyes were brimming too.

Coryo didn’t mind this view of his pink and purple masterpiece dotted across your throat, marks of his property, but for now, he wanted your unyielding attention. He reached to tuck at your hair before tilting your jaw until you were facing him once again with your noses bumping lightly.

“You’ve got bigger and better things ahead of you,” Coryo murmured and it was his turn to be reassuring this time. Judging by the way his cock seemed to come to life again, tapping at your inner thigh, you agreed.

[loumandiel]

Months of reading how Armand is the Big Bad man behind the curtain manipulating and mindcontrolling everyone with his godlike powers, and now suddenly in one day it switched to cruel Pimp Louis manipulating and enslaving Armand and Armand being his poor victim. I'm begging you to look at these characters and their relationships with some nuance. I'm not denying that Louis is trying to manipulate Armand in some moments (Jacob said it himself in the post-episode bit) but seeing that park scene as Louis intentionally evoking Armand's trauma and a pimp and slave assuming their old roles is in my opinion a stretch and i didn't read it that way. Tbh i also find it pretty offensive that some people are acting like when Louis was a pimp he was doing something similar to people who subjected Armand to literal sexual slavery because they're vastly different situations.

Arun isn't Armand's 'slave name' or 'prostitute name', it was his actual birth name before he was sold and abused, and he lost that name due to abuse. If Louis had actually wanted to push a master-slave dynamic he would've probably called Armand Amadeo, because that was the name Armand's abuser, who Armand served and in some way still loves, gave to him. When Louis was a pimp he notably also didn't actually act particularly domineering with sex workers, on the contrary he was usually friendly to them, because he felt guilty for exploiting women and tried to convince himself he was just helping and working with them and that they were equals. He made sex workers like Bricktop Williams minority owners of his business and they felt comfortable with criticizing him. If Louis had actually 'treated Armand like one of his prostitutes' in this episode he would've acted completely differently. Remember also that Armand has a remarkable mind gift and that Louis is bad at hiding his thoughts: if Louis had actually been trying to manipulate Armand in this specific way, Armand would very likely know it.

In the beginning of the episode Armand is frustrated that Louis doesn't acknowledge that they're companions, and Louis expresses that they don't really know each other. Later at the restaurant Armand gets angry and uses his powers dramatically which upsets Louis. He also talks to Louis rather harshly, saying that he and Santiago are acting like fledglings (children) and angrily tells Louis to come back when he leaves. Later Armand comes to apologize bringing flowers. All this reminds Louis of Lestat, and reveals how apprehensive he still is about Armand. Armand deciding to tell Louis his story is a conscious effort to show vulnerability and convince Louis of what he promised: that Armand isn't like Lestat and he isn't going to hurt him. Jacob said that dreamstat represents not only Lestat but Louis' doubts about Armand. In the museum scene this is particularly obvious when Louis feels deep sympathy for Armand, but at the same time dreamstat - a part of Louis - looks angry and distrustful. According to Jacob in the park scene as Louis lets go of Lestat he's also letting go of those doubts and accepting Armand as he is and for who he is.

So when Louis calls Armand by his birth name that could be considered his 'real' name even though no one has called him that for centuries, i see it as him saying 'Do we see each other now? Are we honest about things now? Can i trust that you are who you say you are?' When Armand calls Louis maitre he's trying to establish an impression of equality, because as they both know Armand is the maitre and the leader of the coven and the one with much more power. For Armand the ideal of love is the one of mutual worship and servitude. Like many things with Armand, his actions in this episode are both sincere and manipulative, and his seeming submissiveness is also certain kind of domination that helps him to get what he wants.

I just don't think their relationship is anything like Louis being a master and Armand being a slave at all. It's a very, very complicated and mercurial relationship that is not easily defined and where the dynamics are constantly shifting. As Jacob said, they're constantly flip-flopping between who's the dominant one and who's the submissive one, and who needs what out of the other. He also said that at the end of this episode their relationship takes on this almost BDSM kind of role playing where their roles switch, which implies that a) it's a play and not what their relationship is actually like and b) there was earlier a different dynamic where Armand was more dominant. Their Rashid role play in Dubai was also that, a role play.

When talking about those Louis' 'manipulative instincts' as Jacob called them, it needs to be considered they're something that Louis developed having to live in a racist society for all his life ("using his weakness to rise") and being in an abusive relationship for decades. For Louis that kind of soft power has often been the only power he has, and of course he's resorting to it when in a relationship with much older and much more powerful person he doesn't fully trust. The way i perceive Louis and Armand's relationship, it's a fragile, carefully crafted design built on contradictions, performances and illusions, where they both seek to maintain a fantasy where they both feel sufficiently in control and the relief of releasing that control at the same time

[nana-au]

Best Friends Know Best

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Your trip to the mall stresses Suguru out, so you treat him to some head when you two get home.

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: possessiveness, praising, immodest clothes in public, toxic ideology from geto, oral m! receiving, slight slut shaming, throat fucking, dirty talking (did i miss anything.. lol)

₊˚ପ⊹ an: this is sorta an extension off of my fic Best Friends Forever! (also sorry for not posting in a while i’m working on longer fics while also struggling to keep up with life lol)

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

He doesn't really understand why you insist on dressing up to go to the mall. You were there to buy new clothes, does it matter what you have on? Typically he would never complain about your fashion choices – You look darling in your girly little outfits. 

But today? He cursed himself for not making you change while he still had the chance. He didn't want to be cruel, you were so excited to wear your new dress. It was a pink gingham number – it was so you. What he didn't like was how your chest spilled out of the low neckline and how anytime you shifted in just the right way your sheer panties were on display. He wanted to cry upon noticing how see-through your panties were – there was no mistaking the outline of your plump cheeks. Did you not know how many creeps there were in this world? Did he protect you so well that you were blissfully unaware of the dangers of looking this good? Tempting any man that is so fortunate to breathe the same air as you. 

All throughout the day Geto followed closely behind you, shielding what he could of your body while trying not to make it obvious. You didn’t really notice what he had been doing until his hand reached to cover your chest from the employee at your check-out lane when you bent over; looking at the cute bracelets set up on the counter in front of you. You slowly stood up straight, giving him an odd look as he pocketed his credit card and grabbed your bag of items from the clerk. “What was that about?” you asked him while walking out of the store. 

“Nothing baby,” he said from close behind you, your multiple bags in his arms, “Let’s go get you a latte.”

“Ooo that sounds good,” you mused, daydreaming which flavor syrup you wanted before you quickly snapped out of it, “Don’t change the subject! Why did you cover my chest? Is it really that noticeable?” You ask, looking down to see your cleavage spilling out the top of your dress. “It’s not that bad…” An exasperated sigh left his lips, seemingly exhausted by spending the whole day trying to keep you modest. “Geto? Does my dress upset you?” you stopped in the middle of the mall, turning around to meet his dead eyes. Your brows furrowed, noticing just how tense Geto was compared to when you first arrived. “Do you not like my dress?” your voice is drenched in worry.

“No baby, your dress is very pretty,” he meant it, your dress looked amazing on you. But that was just the problem he was having. “You look good… Just a little too good, y’know?” he forced a chuckle, trying to convince you that he was less upset than he really was. The two of you had been there for three hours, and for three hours he was at war with every guy’s wandering eyes. He had endured three hours of men checking you out, some were so indiscreet about it that the handles of your shopping bags were barely managing to keep the straps under his tight grasp. “Let’s get you a drink and head home, hmm?” he said, pulling together all of his energy to sound fine.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Even after a couple of hours went by at your shared place, Suguru still looked as wound up as he did at the mall. He sat on the couch, drinking a beer and staring at the show on the tv, obviously not really watching it. His grip on the beer bottle was loose, only sipping it when he remembered it was in his hand. 

You grew more and more worried as time passed. You lost the outfit as soon as you got home, opting for pajama shorts and a long sleeved shirt – hoping that he would forget about whatever issue he had with your dress if he no longer had to look at it. That didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Sugu?” you barely said above a whisper, “Is everything okay?” he only hummed at you, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Do you want to talk about it?” you meekly asked. His head shook while he took another lazy sip of his beer. You bit your lip in thought, taking in his still tensed figure that leaned back into the couch. He never changed out of his jeans and black tee, opting to prioritize drinking over unwinding for the day in his usual sweatpants attire. An idea came to you while your eyes trailed his figure, and you hesitated before speaking. “Do you want your cock in my mouth, Suguru?”

He nearly choked on his beer hearing your words, turning to see your face. You looked desperate to hear his response, so eager to hear you can please him. “Of course,” was his response to you, he could never turn that down. You crawled down from the couch and placed yourself between his legs. He sat up, moving to the edge to make it easier for you to reach. He pitched a tent almost immediately seeing you between his thighs. You began to undo his belt, working slowly as he watched with bated breath. 

“Will this be a good apology, Sugu?” your doe eyes met his and you can see him melt at your words. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting patiently as you pull down his zipper. He lifts his hips off the couch, helping you slide his pants all the way off. You rub his cock over his briefs, slowly stroking it and watching the fabric grow a wet patch. You decide it best not to tease for too long, so you pull his cock out and run your thumb across his wet tip. 

“F-fuck,” he sighed, his hips following you as you began to stroke his cock. You twisted your wrist as you slid your hand up his length, teasing the head with your thumb each time you reached the top. He watched you behind his lidded eyes, waiting to feel the warmth of your throat. He dropped his beer onto the end table, preferring to stroke your hair as your wet tongue reached out to lick a fat stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He groaned at the feeling, leaning back as your mouth finally took him in. You started slow, only taking him halfway and stroking the half that was left out with your hand. It wasn’t long before Suguru started his usual dirty talk that made you squirm. “You feel so good, princess,” he grunted, “This is what I deserved after a long day of putting up with you, hmm?” His hips bucked up, his tip hitting the roof of your mouth. “Having to keep you safe because you wanted to dress like a slut,” his other hand reached down to pull up his shirt, exposing his toned stomach that flexed every time you showed his tip extra attention. You licked the slit, pulling back just to spit all over it and using your hand to guide the lubricant down. He shuddered as you took more of him into your mouth, massaging his length with your tongue as his tip neared further down your throat. “Just couldn’t help showing yourself off,” he let loose his frustrations while his dick was stuffed in your mouth, preventing you from talking back. “Gotta suck my cock to make it up to me, princess,” he snickered. “You’ll do a good job? Hmm? Take me all the way?” it was your turn to react to the pleasure he was giving you. The way he talked to you always riled you up, his words always going straight to your clit. You shifted on your knees, desperately trying to give yourself any form of relief. As if he knew, his foot reached out for you and you took it, rubbing your clit shamelessly against the spot where his ankle and foot met. He laughed darkly at you, completely in awe as he watched you hump his foot while you drooled around his cock. “Look at you baby,” he purred at you, “Getting off to sucking my cock…” his Adam apple bobbed in his throat while he tried to collect himself before he came too soon. Your tight shorts were already growing wet as you rutted into him, sucking him even more feverishly. You took all of him, your eyes watering at the heavy feeling against your tongue and in your throat. “Fuck your throat feels so good. S’warm and wet,” he was moaning now, not capable of keeping it back anymore. “Almost as good as your little pussy… too bad she doesn’t deserve my cock right now…” you whined at his words, causing you to gag against his cock. You pulled back, coughing and wiping the tears from your eyes. “Am I too big for you, princess? Can’t take it?” he teased and you shook your head, readying yourself to go back down. Instead he guides you back, standing up and pulling his briefs completely off. “Gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” he asks you and you nod, moving in to take him back in your mouth. As soon as his tip hits your tongue he is pushing himself all the way in, gripping your hair and shoving his cock down your throat at a brutal pace. You feel his trimmed hair tickle your nose with each thrust of his hips. Your cheeks were covered in tears and drool seeped from your lips and onto your chin. “You’re so good t’me,” he moaned out, throwing his head back as he used your throat. His hips stuttered and you felt his dick twitch in your throat, you could tell he was close. “You’re gonna swallow it all… else you’re gonna have to try again until you get it right. Fuckkk, can’t waste a drop,” you dug your nails into his thighs, waiting eagerly for him to reach his peak. Eager to taste his salty cum. 

When he finally came you did as you were told, cleaning up anything that spilled out with your fingers, before popping it back into your mouth. “Such a good girl,” he murmured to you, smoothing out the hair he roughed up previously. “So beautiful,” his dark eyes showed nothing but adoration for you, kissing your forehead as he spoke, “A little too beautiful…”

[beenbaanbuun]

brothers best friend pt 2 w/ jeong yunho

part 1

so i forgot to pause my queue and you’re getting this a day early… whoops

yunho looks so massive towering above you like that

there’s an unfamiliar look on his face, cheeks flushed, lips parted, nostrils flared, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous under his watchful gaze

maybe he’s angry, but you can’t think of anything you’d done to upset him

hell, you’d fallen asleep pretty much as soon as he told you to! its like you could’ve—

oh fuck… the dream

you sit up as quick as humanly possible, any semblance of sleepiness slipping away as you realise exactly why he’s looking at you like that

like you’ve just committed the greatest crime known to man

you can’t look at him, embarrassment and guilt flowing through you like blood

“yun, i—” he cuts you off with a shush

it confuses you for just a second or two; surely he’d give you the chance to explain your self right?

it’s hardly like you deserve to have that chance, perverted little slut

but still, yunho is a nice enough guy; he’ll let you try and wriggle your way out of it… won’t he?

“yunho, i can ex—” again, you’re cut off with a sharp shush

you whimper in response as the tears that begin to gather along your lash line turn his silhouette blurry

“i don’t need an explanation from you,” he speaks softly, “i don’t want one, either. i don’t think it would change anything, do you?”

his face is still set in stone, eyes steely as they stare you down

it only makes you feel even more pathetic, like a child being scolded for making a mess

you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how he saw you; nothing more than his friends kid sister making a mess of things again

you’re always making a mess of things…

your eyes begin to burn with tears

“why are you getting upset, sweetheart?” yunho asks from above you, voice stern and commanding and nothing like the teasing tone he usually uses with you

“it’s embarrassing,” you sniffle, trying your hardest to stop your voice from wavering under the influence of your tears, “i’m sorry.”

he hums, nodding slightly as though he’s seriously mulling over your apology

as if he’s actually considering accepting it…

its cruel, making you wait for your judgement as if he’s not going to end up kicking you out at the end of it all

maybe you were wrong about him being a kind man…

“why is it embarrassing?” he hums, and your heart sinks just a little further

great; he’s going to humiliate you before kicking you out

your eyes meet his, begging for just a little mercy

he doesn’t seem to waver, eyes still icy and face still wearing that unreadable expression

“yunho,” you whisper, mentally preparing yourself to beg for forgiveness

he shakes his head, a hum of disapproval leaving his lips, “tell me, honey; why are you embarrassed?”

and just like that the dam breaks, your chin wobbling as a long keen leaves the back of your throat

the first tear rolls down your cheek, swiftly followed by a second

yunho catches them with his thumbs

“tell me…”

you suck in a shaky breath, forcing it out through your pursed lips

it doesn’t really help to soothe you like you thought it would…

“i had a wet dream about you,” your voice is so timid and small… you’re pathetic

“yes, you did,” yunho agrees, “but i hardly think that’s a good reason for all this fuss, hm?”

you can’t quite make out the tone of his voice

it almost sounds affectionate under that thick layer of condescension that only ever comes out when he’s talking to you

“after all, you didn’t see me crying when i was thinking all those dirty thoughts about you crawling into my bed…”

what?

your jaw hangs slack as you let his words soak in

he has to be teasing you, right?

“your pretty pussy was showing through your shorts, baby, but you didn’t even realise, hm?”

he takes your chin in his hand, forcefully snapping your mouth shut

“you were clenching around nothing,” his pink tongue swipes over his bottom lip, “practically begging for me to fill you up and you didn’t even realise.”

you squirm, everything he does working against you and your barely intact sanity

his words that he says so nonchalantly as if you’re not utterly filthy

his hand that remains firmly on your chin, his thumb dancing back and forth along your jawline

that damned tongue that he can’t seem to keep inside of his mouth for more than a second

you can’t help it when you whimper; after all, he’s the only one to blame

“yuyu,” you sound as pathetic as you feel, but you don’t have the brain power to feel humiliated, “please do something…”

he smiles down at you

“do something?” he asks, “like what, honey? you’re going to have to be more specific if you want yuyu to do what you want.”

the sound of him teasing you so effortlessly goes straight to your cunt, and you clench your thighs around nothing

it doesn’t help ease the ache between them at all

in fact all it does is smear your wetness over your thighs, leaving you with a sticky, uncomfortable mess

you desperately need something more; some friction to ease that ache in your clit and something inside of you to fill up your empty hole

and there’s yunho, your brothers best friend, standing above you looking like a fucking god

that’s all you need to push you over the edge

“yunho, please fuck me,” you whine, bringing a hand up to rest upon his wrist

your fingers wrap around it, tugging softly until his grip slips from your jaw

you drag it down, heading lower and lower until his hand catches on the duvet that still rests over your lower half

and then you stop, passing the proverbial ball to him; it’s in his court now and whatever happens next is up to him

whether he fucks you or not… it’s his choice

but you have no time to worry about what might not come to pass when he grabs the covers and tosses them to the side

his eyes hone in on those fucking shorts, and he swears he can feel his cock jump in his shorts

fucking hell, they’re practically see through with just how wet you are

he can see everything and what a delight that is

your pretty little pussy, wet and waiting for him to ruin it with his fingers, his cock, him cum

he needs so badly to see the real thing

“these damn shorts, baby,” he groans as he hooks his fingers over the waist band and tugs, “i might just have to keep them, if that’s okay with you?”

his words make your pussy clench, a sight that has him humming in appreciation

“i take that as a yes?” he tugs them down over your thighs, wasting no time in stripping your bottom half bare and tucking your shorts in the pocket of his pants.

with your glistening hole now exposed to him, he wastes no time in getting on his knees at the bottom of the bed

at first he just watches it, studying it as intensely as a college student studies their textbook the night before a final

you’re about to say something, to beg some more, when he reaches out a hand and slides a finger through your sopping folds

you gasp as he brushes it gently against you clit before pulling it away entirely, slipping it between his lips without so much as a second of hesitation

his eyes flutter closed and his cheeks hollow

the moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic; you find yourself in awe of the show he’s putting on for you

“taste so good, honey,” he purrs as he tugs his finger free, “i’d eat you up forever, if you let me…”

he pauses, letting his eyes flicker up to meet yours

“will you let me?”

you nod, too dazed to say anything

“good girl…”

he wastes no time in laying down and throwing your legs over his shoulders

his giant hands find your thighs, gently caressing your smooth skin under the calloused tips of his fingers

they squeeze, kneading your flesh as he lowers his face to your aching core

“ready?” he hums, the word propelling a cool blast of air against your clit

you squirm and nod, but he shakes his head

“i really need your words this time, baby,” he says, “i’ve been lenient so far but i won’t do anything without your explicit permission; are you ready?”

“y-yes, yun…”

and just like that, he presses a soft kiss to your clit, the tip of his tongue just barely grazing it before he pulls away

it draws a whine through your gritted teeth

yunho chuckles before going back in to lick a stripe over your dripping hole

an obscene slurping sound echoing around the room as his tongue collects as much of your juices as he can before going back for more

he licks and prods are your hole, seeming to tease it until it leaks some more, all which his nose bumps gorgeously up against your clit

you hands fly to his hair, holding him against you in fear of him leaving you high and dry

he’s making you feel so good, the last thing you want is for this to stop

he just smiles against you as he feels the tug of your fingers in his locks, scraping his teeth against you in a way that has your body going limp

it’s even worse when he brushes them against your sensitive bud

you don’t quite register the sound your own mouth makes, too lost in the throws of pleasure to fully comprehend anything other than yunho

“so sweet, honey,” he grunts before he takes you clit between his lips

he suckles on it, hollowing his cheeks out as he pulses the pressure

he alternates between hard and soft sucks

it’s enough to make that knot in your stomach tighten

you’re getting close

“yuyu,” you cry as you let your hips buck into his mouth

it doesn’t phase him at all, so you carry on seeking your high

and when yunho sharpens his tongue to a point, letting you grind against the very top of it, that’s when you come undone

that’s when the knot snaps and your world turns white for just a second

fucking hell, yunho knows how to eat pussy…

he continues his ministrations for just a moment or two, letting you get it all out of your system before he pulls away and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand

“how was that, pretty girl?” he hums, “think you can take my cock next?”

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

What if the reader was the child of the creator and had these gorgeous horns until one day, they were being looked after by Raiden, Venti, Nahida, Zhongli and they hear this mixed sounds of rocks breaking and bone snapping suddenly appearing and reader's large and gorgeous horns is suddenly not attached and in their hands while blood drips from their head. Apparently their horns were feeling pretty wobbly and they wanted to pull them to get rid of the feeling because it felt annoying.

PS: this is normal for this to happen, it's like pulling a tooth and a new one grows back.

How would they react to the graces child's horns no longer attached to their head.

OOOHH BOY, ARCHONS BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS, YOUR BABYSITTING CAREERS ARE ABOUT TO BE SHOOT THROUGH A BIG ROLLERCOASTER!

Honestly cannot blame them for panicking though—I would honestly do the same if I were in that position—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC!)

Raiden Ei

The moment she sees the Almighty Creator's child's head bleeding, she is already scolding herself greatly for not being able to protect a child.

And then she sees the horns. That's when her panic begins to really spike up. That is—until she remembers Mikoshi Chiyo—her dear oni friend of bygone times—mention something about how some animals shed their horns during certain times of the year. And how her children have their teeth fall out when they were younger but we don't talk about that-

"Your Younger Grace, let us clean this all up before it becomes more of a mess." She tries to soften her voice towards you, knowing that she is dealing with a) a child and b) the literal descendant of the Almighty Creator. She does not dare to try and be cruel to the child who's parent can literally strike her down faster than lightning and time itself.

She's not exactly the most open nowadays, but she would still try to make herself as approachable as possible, if you two weren't close before.

If you two were? Well, that makes it a lot easier—her concern is easily detected and she's already cleaning up the blood and taking your previous horns somewhere else (probably a place where nobody would begin to panic just at the sight of it).

She won't even speak a single word about this incident after it's over. Ei does not want to look back at this memory and remember just how much of a heart attack she just gained by staring at the Divine One's child.

Venti

This man, hands down, will panic for a good few hours. Probably won't think straight as he thinks he's failed the Almighty Creator.

"Your Younger Grace, quick—let's get that cleaned up now!" Man would probably also yeet your horns away (gently) so that he never has to see it again. Venti is 100% traumatized again.

Would keep an eye on you whenever you touch your head now—this guy is making sure you never repeat the same thing again.

It won't be 'till a LONGG time before he realizes it's like a deer with your horns—but still, it's still pretty traumatic for our wisp boi, let's be hoenst—

Nahida

She would naturally be very upset that you would hurt yourself. However, she's not as panicked—she compares this situation like a deer. Or, actually—she hypothesizes.

Nevertheless, Nahida is still pretty upset you have to bleed because of this. She never wants to see you hurt, ever!

"Your Younger Grace, please let one of my people tend to your head..." She would call in her best medics from her nation to make sure your bleeding stops, before she deals with the horns that you practically tore off.

She will admit, it was very strange to hold the pieces of the Almighty Creator's child's horns as if they were collectible items. So, for the time being, she'll just keep them in a wrapped cloth to hide them.

Every time you do this, Nahida is now extra prepared for your "horn regrowth," as she calls it.

Zhongli

Dude is honestly the least surprised out of them all. I mean—can you blame him? He legit has seen it happen—remember what animal Moon Carver is? Yeah, that's right: a deer. Man's seen the guy shed antlers all the time, honestly.

But what he didn't expect is that you would actually bleed from pulling your horns off. That's what gets this grandpa of an Archon moving.

"Your Grace, allow me to tend to your injuries." Would treat it so seriously you think you were actually injured—you're just sitting there trying to recall how you might have hurt yourself until you realize Zhongli was talking about the horns you pulled off.

Pretty calm about the horns, honestly. Like I said, he's probably seen it one too many times. He'll probably ask the Almighty Creator themself of what he should do with them.

Would also probably educate the other archons so that they could stop having an absolute panic attack each time you decide to make your head bleed (cough looking at you, Venti cough).

And that's it! Everyone's except Ei's is short, but I do hope you like it! See you all around :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: Yes, I did do some research with Ei's part—mainly because I don't really know how exactly she would react to a situation like this. I'm taking in terms with the fact that she is also mentally arguing/dealing with the Puppet Shogun, so there is some sort of rationalism behind her actions because of this. And, no, I don't believe Oni are able to shed off their horns, so I just made one of Ei's friends mention something about re-growing horns/teeth lol-

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