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osarina · 6 months ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 ICARIAN

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere.

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building.

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting.

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you.

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry.

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself.

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt.

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady.

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?”

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard.

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade.

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him.

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white.

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe.

He thinks he might throw up.

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak.

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity.

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai.

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below.

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this.

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly.

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?”

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to.

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved.

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him.

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you?

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful.

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up.

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you.

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him.

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving.

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him.

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again.

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to.

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him.

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care.

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him.

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him.

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side.

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again.

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?”

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do.

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention.

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with:

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something.

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you.

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips.

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible.

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time.

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock.

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you.

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it.

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away.

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “‘d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins.

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible.

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it.

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this.

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge.

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you.

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again.

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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whumpsday · 4 months ago

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Kane & Jim #56: Else

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery and lots of it, angst, sickfic, accidental emotional whump, fear of starvation, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee (turned caretaker), reunions

Whumpmas in July Day 18: "Or else"

i'm sorry for being so slow with k&j chapters! i'm going to try to be quicker with them in the future. here's one people have been waiting for for a very long time!

“You’re sick.”

Jim blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You’re sick,” Kane repeated, taking another sip from the bowl. One of his last bowls before he was to start finding his own elsewhere. “I can taste it.”

“What? What kind of sick? Is it serious?” Jim asked with increasing urgency. Kane could see it in his eyes: he knew fear, and he hated to see it in Jim.

He wanted more than anything to reassure him, but he couldn’t lie. “I-I don’t know?” he admitted. “I don’t know much of human illnesses. You seem… fine?”

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” Jim grabbed his coat. “I’ll be back soon. I gotta… go to the doctor, or something. Door,” he warned.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be okay! You can’t even feel it! You’re a healthy young man!” Kane assured him, ducking into the kitchen.

“Thanks for warning me!” Jim’s voice was laden with nerves. A flash of sunlight made Kane shiver, and he only returned to the living room when it was gone.

Kane knew what this meant: Jim would likely not finish out the week. This was his last meal given. He would have to go to vampire territory tonight, or else he would have nothing to eat come tomorrow. He had to find blood tonight, or else he’d starve. He’d go back to that horrible, empty state, always wanting, always in pain.

He knew Jim wouldn’t really let that happen, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him for blood forever, either. Kane had taken enough, with and without permission. It was Jim’s turn to rest.

Still, the fear of hunger never left him. It was a part of him now, permanently, no matter how much he fed.

And this meant one thing. The thing he’d been putting off and dreading since Jim set him free.

He would have to go to vampire territory and talk to his parents. He knew already that it would not go over well. Father would be either furious or crushingly disappointed that he’d allowed himself to be humiliated by humans, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Mother would undoubtedly be the latter. He wondered, not for the first time, if they preferred him ‘dead’.

It shouldn’t matter. He knew now that they weren’t… good people. He could see that. He had a new family of sorts, now that Jim had taken him in.

But Jim wasn’t his legal next of kin, and Jim wasn’t the one he had to ask if he wanted his money returned so he could buy blood.

He could always get a job. But it seemed ridiculous to do when he had money sitting right there, and he would likely be found by his parents at some point anyway. There was no avoiding it forever.

Kane drank the bowl down quickly.

It was a flu, apparently. Nothing life-threatening, but it set Jim’s anxieties alight. His parents had died of illness, he explained.

While Kane had managed to catch it early, Jim started to devolve within a few hours of arriving home.

Kane knocked on his bedroom door. “Jim? Can I come in?”

“Ugh. Yeah,” he agreed.

Carefully balancing the tray, he entered. He found Jim curled up in bed, looking miserable.

“I’ve brought you lunch.” He’d been practicing his human food skills. He was still quite afraid of the stove, so though he used it when feeling especially brave, he mainly stuck to things that didn’t require cooking. He’d written down several combinations of foods that humans found appetizing, which could often be served in between slices of bread as a ‘sandwich’.

But he needed a tray instead of a plate, because despite his strength, he simply didn’t have enough hands to carry the six cups of water circled around it.

“Lotta water,” Jim noted weakly, grabbing a glass and taking a sip when Kane brought it close. His hand shook, the liquid threatening to spill. Kane watched it close, ready to steady it in a heartbeat if Jim needed him to.

He spoke gently, like he was worried speaking too loud would break Jim in his fragile state. “...Like I’d mentioned, I don’t know much about human illness. Most of what I know comes from you. I just remember… you wanted a lot of water, last time.”

He thought about that time a lot. How he was so close to losing Jim, because he was too proud to listen.

“Ah. Yeah.” Jim wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I remember.”

Kane set the tray down. “I should have taken better care of you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I mean–I shouldn’t have had you in the first place, but I did, and you were my responsibility, and I didn’t care for you like I should have.” A hint of tears in his eyes, he took Jim’s unusually-sweaty hand. “I’ll do better this time. Anything you need, I’ll be there.”

That earned a small smile from Jim. “Guess it isn’t so bad being waited on. ‘Specially because you can’t get sick, right?” The smile faded. “…Right?”

“I can’t,” Kane assured him. “You don’t need to worry. Just rest, and I’ll take care of anything you need.”

Jim huffed an almost-laugh. “You really changed, man.”

Liz did come over to visit come nightfall, which was good, since despite his promises, Kane had to leave. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Jim alone at night. He knew it made him scared, and Jim deserved to never feel afraid ever again. She brought a container of soup, a yellow liquid with colorful plants and large white orbs floating in it.

He waited, patient, until Liz emerged from Jim’s room. “Liz?”

“Hey. Thanks for looking after him,” Liz said.

“Of course!” The praise spread warmly through him. “There’s, um, something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have the time? Advice, I suppose.”

“Shoot,” she encouraged, flopping over on the couch.

Kane took a deep breath. “So, um, I assume now is a good time to start getting my own blood.”

“Yyyyeah.” Liz shot a glance to the stairs leading to Jim’s room. “I’d say that’s about right.”

“Blood… isn’t free. I have the money–had the money, but I’ve likely been assumed dead for many years. I’ll need to go to my parents to get it back,” he explained. “My parents are not kind people, I’ve come to realize.”

Liz raised an eyebrow, but politely refrained from making any comments about his former obliviousness. “You think they won’t give it back? Isn’t there, like, laws? This can’t be the first time this has happened with vampires, you guys are too good at not dying.”

“No! No, that’s not it, they’d give it back. It’s just, um, they’ll be… quite upset with me, I think. Especially my father.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to talk about it with Jim. I was worried he would feel pressured into giving me more blood than he’s comfortable with. I don’t know. It shouldn’t be as big a deal as it is. I’ve been through so much worse, I don’t understand why this is so terrifying. I suppose I’ve just never failed this badly before.”

“Hey, you made it out of five years with those monsters, alive. Bet there’s not a lot of vampires who could say that,” Liz pointed out.

“Ah, that’s just… not how Father would see it,” Kane said vaguely. Humans were supposed to be the weak ones. The fact that it took him five years to be freed, and he couldn’t even do it himself, would make him an utter embarrassment in their eyes.

And it was all because he couldn’t use persuasion. Everything they’d always believed about him, proven true.

Liz pursed her lips, lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t remember my parents that well,” she admitted. “I know yours suck pretty bad. I don’t think you have to admit more than you need to, right? Like, do they even need to know where you’ve really been? You could just make something up, for the sake of keeping the peace.”

“Make something up…” Kane murmured. He shook his head. “I’m not a very good liar. They’d see right through me. It’s fine, actually, the more I talk about it, the more I realize I’m being a bit ridiculous.” He forced a laugh. “It’s one uncomfortable conversation and then I can come back home.”

“You’ve got this.” Liz patted him lightly on the back, a modification from her usual clap she’d learned tended to scare him. “You’re tough.”

Kane certainly didn’t feel ‘tough’.

“Thank you. It was nice to at least… get it out of my system. Oh, and congratulations. Jim told me about you and Laken.”

Liz smiled. “After what happened, I just knew I had to say something, you know? If they could just be taken from me at any moment. Stuff happens. People die. I didn’t want something to happen to one of us before I could tell them how I feel.”

She stood. “I can give you one more night’s worth, maybe two. If you need some time to think about it and all.”

Kane startled. He and Liz had grown far more amicable over the past months, but he hadn’t expected this from her.

Maybe he should have. It wasn’t the first time. He thought of Jim, on that first night, vehemently denying Liz’s offer to provide blood, vowing to do it himself.

“...Thank you. That means so, so much to me. It’s alright, though. I’ll go tonight,” he decided.

“Good luck. We’ll be here when you get back,” she promised.

And that was all he really needed, in the end.

Kane got up, heading to the door with a quick glance back to make sure it was alright. For the freedom he’d earned, he hadn’t gone more than ten feet from the house since he’d returned with Laken. But of course, Liz made no move to stop him. “I’ll see you soon.”

The night was as beautiful as ever, even in the cool autumn air. He liked it better this way, in fact. It made it more comfortable to wear more clothing, the long pants and long sleeves and jacket he liked, especially when he ran. When he went this fast, he hardly felt the cold, and his mind was occupied elsewhere.

What if his parents made demands of him in exchange for their help? What if they expected him to return to vampire territory, to isolate himself out of the way in a socially-acceptable manner? Now that he’d tasted true companionship, he almost couldn’t bear to give it up. And what about Jim? Ever since Laken’s abduction, he’d been more scared at night. The very least Kane owed him was his protection.

His petty worries disappeared the instant he realized he could hear a vehicle coming closer.

Kane ran faster, opposite the sound. He’d likely been pushing fifty miles an hour before, and could make sixty if he tried–but he was out of practice, and the vehicle was faster.

A glance behind him showed moonlight glinting off a silver crossbow.

“I have permission!” he wailed as the off-roader gained, heart threatening to burst from his chest. This couldn’t happen, not again, no. Jim and Liz wouldn’t even think to look for him until a day had passed, a day that could easily be spent baking in the hot sun. “Liz Lieberman granted me permission to cross! Please, I didn’t do anything! Mercy!”

“Kane?” an unfamiliar voice called. The vehicle caught up to him, but there was no attack. “Oh shit, it’s you!” the driver said. “It’s so dark, I almost didn’t recognize you from the picture Laken showed us. Thanks for bringing ‘em back.”

Kane slowed, just a bit. “What?” he squeaked, tears streaming down his face.

The hunter in the passenger seat elbowed his partner, making quick movements with his hands that Kane could not understand. A signed language of some sort, he assumed. Though he didn’t know much about such things, other than that spoken orders under persuasion often didn’t work on humans who utilized it.

“Uh, my partner wants to know if you’re good? Like, you’re alright?” The driver asked. “Did we scare you? Sorry. Just, uh, you know, gotta be quick with the other guys. One second wasted and you miss ‘em, and that’s someone’s whole life, y’know.”

“Oh. Um, yes, you’d–you’d frightened me. I’m sorry.” Kane wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. “Am I… free to go, sirs?”

“Yeah! Yeah, you can go… sir? Shoot, don’t let us keep you,” the hunter assured.

The one in the passenger seat made more hand-signs, waving him goodbye after. “Nice to meet you!” the other translated, finally driving away.

Kane picked up speed again and didn’t stop until he was sure he’d left the border far behind. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

He was so close to going back to the pain. If they hadn’t recognized him, he would have been skewered with silver–likely soon killed, not tortured, given they were from Liz’s guild, but still, he would have died in pain. No matter how hard he breathed, he felt like he couldn’t get enough air, and he wasn’t sure if it was that he’d been sprinting for too long or the sheer horror.

He wanted Jim. He wanted Jim to hold him and tell him everything was alright, that he was safe, that no one was going to hurt him. But Jim was miles and miles away, and could not help him here.

And he couldn’t cry on the ground forever. He was burning moonlight, and he needed blood.

Kane forced himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around him. If he squeezed his eyes tight, he could pretend he wasn’t alone, for just a moment.

After a minute like that, he started running once more.

By the time Kane reached his parents’ estate, he’d mostly calmed down. It was hard to feel as though hunters would ambush him out of nowhere when he went deep enough into vampire territory to see buildings and people. Any hunter here would be apprehended in seconds.

He touched the gate, brass-coated, though he knew there was silver underneath. There seemed to be some sort of electronic device attached to it, a new addition since his last visit, but he wasn’t sure how to use it. He could climb it, or simply shout, and one of the staff would likely hear him. If he wanted to be extra polite, which he did, he could simply stand here until someone came or went and ask to be let in.

And then that would be it. Kane would be standing face-to-face with his parents. He would accept Father’s ire without complaint. He’d had worse, he reminded himself, even when it came to the comparable. The hunters had spit on him while calling him worthless, ground his face into the floor while forcing him to decry himself as beneath them. It had been so much worse.

His hand shook against the gate.

You’ve really changed, man.

Had he? If he was still back here, ready to take whatever judgments his parents threw at him, debase himself and eagerly beg for their forgiveness, had he really changed? There were humans in there. Captive, hurt humans who he could never in a thousand years be able to free if he tried, locked away in their quarters. What happened to all his regrets? His vows that he would never associate with anything of the sort again?

What would he have done differently here before, if he’d realized back then everything he knew now?

Kane left.

It took him a bit to find it, he hadn’t been to this town before, but it wasn’t far, and he knew the address.

There was a different kind of dread this time. If he was rejected here, it might be even worse than his parents. But as he rang the doorbell, he knew this was what he had to do.

The man who answered looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen him, thirteen years ago. The same dark skin, perfect hair, typically garishly-colorful shirt.

Bellamy’s eyes went impossibly wide, as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Kane?”

taglist in reblogs, chapter 57 coming july 30th :)

@whumpmasinjuly

#kane and jim #whump #my writing #vampire whumpee #vampire whump #sickfic #angst #recovery whump #accidental whump #whumper turned whumpee #whumpmasinjuly2024 #wij24day18

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vaaaaaiolet · 3 months ago

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It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you.

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple.

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm.

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?”

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift.

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six?

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman.

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms.

“Hold it plea- Leon!”

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut.

“Thanks,” you gasp.

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t.

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!”

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t.

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds.

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds.

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity.

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now.

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside.

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head.

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting.

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests.

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.”

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.”

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body.

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears.

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder.

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything?

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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mj0702 · 4 months ago

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“Are you sure Jenni? I can take her with me if you want” Alexia said seriously as she kept a tight hold on your shirt you looking around in awe

“Of course I’m sure... I’m good with Kids... trust me Ale...” the Madridsta waved off “... we’re gonna have some fun and you call when you’re done with whatever boring stuff you have to do and we meet up and all good”

“Okay...” Alexia took a deep breath before she lightly tugged on your shirt “You behave for Jenni... I promised your sister she can enjoy her week in Cuba without having to worry about you”

“She’s a good kid Ale... don’t be such a fun killer” the black haired rolled her eyes as she pulled you over and into her side hugging you quickly

“I know she is.... I also know trouble always finds her...” the blonde answered

“What are you doing anyway?” Jenni asked

“Media... a little bit for Barcelona a little bit for Eleven” Alexia said watching you as you drifted off into the gaming arcade being amazed by the lights and sounds “.... so... you’re good with kids?”

“Yes... contrary to popular belief... I am” the spaniard said proudly

“Then... where is the Cariño?” Alexia smirked

“Right he...” Jenni smiled trying to pull you back into her side to only grab air “... mierda” Jenni swore looking around panicked

“She’s over there with the basketballs” the blonde pointed out “I told you before... don’t leave her out of your sight”

“Pequeña!!!” Jenni yelled sprinting after you

“Have fun Hermoso” Alexia chuckled to herself watching how Jenni argued with you using hands and feet

“Look Pequeña... I’m the cool Aunt okay.... we do everything you want... but you can’t run off like that!” Jenni said sternly

“Everything I want?” you looked at her excited

“Everything... but no running off” the dark haired one said

“Can I have slushies and Candies?” you got even more excited

“Sure... why not?” Jenni shrugged her shoulders

“Everyone always says I’m not allowed so much sugar because I get so hyped up” you looked a little sad

“Well... you’re back at Ales tonight... I don’t care if you’re hyped up or not” Jenni said nonchalantly

“You really ARE the cool Aunt” you exclaimed happily throwing yourself at her hugging Jenni tightly

“I know... I’m so cool” Jenni laughed catching you with ease

“Can we play some games?” you asked still koala hugging the big spaniard

“Sure... wanna start with the basketballs?” Jenni chuckled as she carefully sat you down again

“You’re going down Hermoso... get ready to lose” you looked at her serious

“Pff you little bebé... as if you could win against ME... your sister tried last year... lost too” the black haired spaniard smirked arrogantly but you saw she was joking

“Yeah well... compared to me my sister is shit” you smirked back and Jenni pulled out her wallet

“I don’t believe it” Jenni grumbled as you walked next to her smiling widely a big slushy in your hand

“Told you you’re going to lose” you grinned proudly

“FOUR TIMES?!” the Madridsta exclaimed

“Well... not me fault you can’t accept defeat” you shrugged your shoulders “... uh... Pac Man”

“You’re too young to know Pac Man” Jenni rolled her eyes

“You are just ancient... you probably were around before there was electricity” you shot back and immediately sprinted of when you saw the look that Jenni threw you

“Come back here you little... ugh” Jenni yelled sprinting after you as you cut through the masses of people

You looked over your shoulder seeing Jenni coming after you so you just laughed in her face and cut to the left when you ran into someone bouncing of that person straight on your ass

“Sorry” you said but froze immediately when you saw who you ran into – the arcade security “Uh oh”

“I told you to come... shit” Jenni finally caught up to you scolding you before she noticed the very angry, very overweight, very sweaty guy looking down at you

“Lo siento signor.... Ella lo siento mucho... se abrumó un poco” the dark haired spaniard immediately started to fire in spanish trying to get you out of trouble

“¿Por qué estaba corriendo? No está permitido correr dentro” the scruffy old man huffed

Jenni spoke in rapid spanish trying to get you off the hook – in which she succeeded agreeing to sign something for the mans grandchild

“Jesús Pequeña... look where you’re going next time” Jenni sighed deeply

“I was chased by a mad elderly woman” you said upset and Jenni pulled you into a headlock while kicking your ass with her heel

“Hey!!! Womanhandling!!!” you exclaimed trying to get away from Jenni but her hold was too strong

“Oh shut up... I just saved your ass... he could’ve gotten the police and they would’ve taken you to jail” Jenni laughed at your attempts to free yourself

“Jenniiiiii” you whined which caused several heads to turn your way

“Mi hermana...siendo un poco de mierda como siempre” the Madridsta smiled at some mother who threw her some questioning looks

“I’m not your sister” you grumbled still being in Jennis headlock

“For the moment you are” Jenni grumbled back and led you outside before letting you go

“I wanna go back” you whined immediately after being released

“We’re not allowed back in...” the black haired spaniard said “... if the security guy sees us again in there he will call the police and we’re both in deep shit because I’m the one who has to explain to Alexia why we got arrested”

“Well... what else we gonna do?” you said a little down

“I know someone who I think you would like a lot” Jenni smirked already having an idea how to get your good mood back

“Yeah?” you perked up a little bit

“Want some Ink on your arm?” the Madridsta smirked and you immediately grinned widely

“Sí por favor” you nodded happily

“Then come on... cool Aunt Jenni has a great plan” Jenni smiled and pulled you along to Alexias Cupra she got for the day

“Hola Raphael mi compa...” Jenni laughed as she entered the little shop on the corner on the outlines of Barcelona

“Jenni... mi Corazon” a young man jumped up from his little chair where he was hunched over a table drawing something

“Mi hermana necesita una manga falsa” the Madrista pointed at you

“Para ti...nunca un problema” Raphael smiled and already got his designs out

“Okay Pequeña... what do you want?” Jenni gently pushed you towards the young man who proudly held out his drawing block

“I want something Lionesses... and Spain... something that represents my families... and of course no.8... Gs national number... who’s Barcas 8?” you said trying to remember the Barcelona squad

“Marta” Jenni rolled her eyes “You should know that”

“Yeah well she dating the scary norwegian.. guaranteed goal norwegian... but still scary...” you shrugged your shoulders “... I don’t dare to even look at her”

“Marta is a sweetheart” the dark haired spaniard said

“Her girlfriend isn’t” you shot back

“Okay... Caro is very nice too buy not the point here... do you trust me?” Jenni asked

“Well duuh..” you rolled your eyes

“Okay... before we start... it’s not permanent” the Madrista pressed “... but we’ll get you a whole sleeve... Ales gonna lose her shit” she grinned widely

“Well... get going then” you smirked really liking how Jenni was thinking

“Oh my god... this looks so cool” you looked down on your right arm which was completely covered in different colours and pictures which showed everything important in your live.

“You like it?” Jenni looked up from the magazine she was reading sitting in a comfortable looking lounge chair

“I absolutely love it” you said in awe

“Then tell him...” the dark haired spaniard smiled

“He speaking English?” you looked up and at Jenni

“Of course not...” Jenni rolled her eyes “... but you speak enough Spanish to say thank you and that you like it... go on... I know you can”

“Muchas gracias?” you looked a little unsure but the young man nearly exploded with a smile

“Good... go on...” Jenni encouraged you smiling

“Realmente me encanta... es perfecto” a smile spread on your face and Raphael gushed over you and your baby spanish

“Aunt Jenni??” you asked sweetly

“Sí?” Jenni asked after she paid Raphael a generous tip since he refused to take any payment whatsoever

“Can I get a new haircut?” you smiled innocently

“Oh god... what do you want to get?” the dark haired spaniard asked carefully

“Do you trust me?” you smiled wider

“For as far as I can throw you” Jenni mumbled “... but come on... I know a very good, very gay hairstylist... he can get nearly everything done”

“I want blaugrana” you smirked

“I’m not letting you get permanent colour” Jenni pointed out “... come... this way”

“Yes Ale... yes... I’ll bring her home in about 20 minutes... just let us finish dinner” Jenni had her phone between her shoulder and ear signalling you to eat faster

“Yes she’s still intact... no... no broken bones... no wounds either... I TOLD you I’m good with kids” the Madrista rolled her eyes “... yes... 18 minutes...”

“Eat faster Pequeña... your adoptive mother wants you home” Jenni said as she waved the waiter over to pay the check

“You think Ale like me hair?” you chewed on your pizza

“She will absolutely kill me... that’s why I bring you back and BEFORE you knock you’ll let me get away

“Okay... and if she asks where you are I point in the other direction” you nod quickly

“Muy Bien” Jenni praised you when both walked towards the car

“Té amo Pequeña” Jenni said as she pressed a soft kiss to your temple as she hugged you tightly

“See you on the other side Aunt J” you mumbled before she let go walking down the street quickly – you looked after her until she was around the corner counted down five Mississippi before knocking on the door

“Mi Car.... AY DÍOS MIO!!!! WHAT ON EARTH??!! OLGA!!!!” Alexia opened the door smiling which got replaced by pure horror and shock once she recognized your new “look”

“Hola mamá” you grinned pushing past a frozen Alexia

“OLGA!!!!!” the blonde yelled again “OLGA!!!!”

“WHAT?” her girlfriend yelled from the living room

“IF THE POLICE ASKS... I WAS HERE THE WHOLE NIGHT” Alexia yelled back already pulling on her shoes “Y/n... which way.. I’m going to kill her”

“That way” you pointed up the street and in the opposite direction Jenni left

#jenni hermoso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso image

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peachhcs · 4 months ago

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as of late → social media post

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

two posts in one day?! as requested, here’s what’s been going on through samy’s instagram recently <3 (i had to add some angst with fans commenting things since this would be when her and will aren’t together)

p.s. this is olivia coutts on instagram irl. she’s sort of who i picture samy looking like so i took some of her pics from insta to use as samy’s :)

au masterlist

samyhughes as of late — i love my friends

view all comments

hannahduke WOW i made cover post! so honored

| samyhughes LMAO ur welcome bae

marcieevans11 i love youuuu samy hughes you’re gorgeous

| samyhughes i love youuu marcie can’t wait to see you in a few weeks!!

lhughes_06 YEAH I MADE THE CUT!!!

| _quinnhughes in the very last photo 😭

| jackhughes be happy you’re even included at all 😒

| samyhughes IM SORRY JACK I PROMISE NEXT TIME!!

user1 now wait a minute…who is that guy in pics 3 and 5???

markestapa little hughes standing on business in pic 4

| samyhughes like i always am

edwards.73 okkkkkk posttttt

| samyhughes okkkkkk i watched you type this on my post

colecaufield wait is that matt maggio??

| samyhughes yes! met up with him while i was in van visiting quinn :)

user2 omg is she dating this guy now??

| user3 that seems kind of fast after will…

user4 you were never good for will anyway.

user5 where’s will?!!!! did she move on that fast??!!

g.brindley4 good stuff hughesy

| samyhughes thanks gav

seamuscasey26 wow didn’t make boat pic i guess

| samyhughes you hate pics shut up 😭

rutgermcgroarty wow 6 pics in one post is crazy

| samyhughes shut up with your contract posting every three months

| nick.moldenhauer wow that’s tough

kayleighdocherty_ so pretty samy! love u

| samyhughes ugh miss u kay i wanna come back to cali

ryan.leno_4 damn i’m not featured :(

| samyhughes maybe in my end of summer dump!

user6 guys even if she is dating that guy now let’s not hate. we don’t even know what happened between her and will!!!

mattmaggio81 good seeing you! come back to van soon

| samyhughes already booking my next flight! 🫡

user7 rebound is crazzyyy

user8 it’s the way none of her friends are commenting on the guy. i knew she was only using will for the fame

| user9 lmao what fame?? she was famous on her own without will

| user10 y’all think she’s famous 💀

gabeperreault44 happy summer!

| samyhughes WOOO!!

drewf2 yuppppp hughesy posted

| samyhughes yupppp!

aram_minnetian silver purse in 4th pic looks cool

| samyhughes wow thanks aram!

gracecccsmith so cutie samy, i love u

| samyhughes love u grace🥰

jacob_fowler24 good shit

| samyhughes 🫡🫡

samyhughes hey guys!! just to clarify, matt and i aren’t dating!! we’re just friends. we met a few years back and when i was in van to visit it quinn, we decided to catch up! we were both at a charity event hence the 5th pic. please keep any rude comments to yourself as you don’t know what is going on in my life. thanks! <3

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ellieluvr420 · 8 months ago

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Friends? Never. Pt.12 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

SMUT MDNI !!

Hello beautiful people, I finished planning out the whole story and Friends? Never is going to wrap up after 25 chapters! I am so excited for you guys to see what I have planned and I really hope you're gonna love it as much as I do because you have all been so kind so far so THANK YOU SO MUCH and if anyone has any requests I would love to hear them <3

“Hey Joel.”

“Hey kiddo, come on in.” Ellie’s smile mirrored Joel’s lopsided one as she walked into the living room of his cabin.

“Ugh what is that smell?”

“Coffee.”

“Smells like burnt ass.”

“Well burnt ass tastes pretty good.” Ellie chuckles as she grimaces.

“Ew... how did you get that anyway?”

“I’m ashamed of what I had to trade to get it.” He bowed his head in shame before beckoning Ellie into the kitchen. “I didn’t have much on me when you said about coming over so er sorry the food isn’t as good as last time.” He gestures to the plates of pasta and Ellie notices the can still sitting on the side.

“Oh shit, chef boyardee... throwback.”

“Yeah no kidding, tastes a lot nicer warmed up though I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Ellie grabs her plate and follows Joel to the living room where he sits on the sofa and presses play on the film he had put on. They eat in silence as they watch the film until Joel sighs and puts his fork down.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re here but is everything okay? Seemed kinda out of the blue.”

“Oh er yeah everything’s fine. I just- I know I’ve been distant since... everything and It’s taken me a long time to understand why you did what you did but I think I’m starting to, at least I’m trying to anyway. I want us to be able to move on you know?” There was quiet for a long while after Ellie finished speaking, the only sounds in the room were that of the ones playing on the TV until Joel sucked a sharp breath in.

“I- I’d like that. A lot.” She could see the glassy sheen of his eyes as he placed his hand over her knee and squeezed. “This anything to do with that girl your roommate executed a few weeks ago?”

“So Maria told you huh?”

“Yeah... I appreciate what she did for me.”

“Yeah me too, about that actually... Er she-”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“Wha- How did you...” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Yeah, she is.”

“Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“Well that makes one of us.” They both chuckle and go back to eating, Ellie commenting on the film every few minutes and being met with a mix of chuckles and scoffs.

“So he knew already?”

“Yeah probably guessed after he walked in on us in the kitchen.”

“Ha! He knew before us then.”

“Yeah sounds about right.” You and Ellie were riding next to each other at the back of your patrol group, Ellie had got home from Joel’s after you fell asleep last night so now was the first chance she had to tell you about it. As you both chuckled, Rita who was up front signalled to dismount the horses because you had reached the factory building you needed to clear. Everyone tied up their horses and began moving inside. The second you walked through the doors you heard the foreboding sound of groans and clicks, you glance at Ellie to see she’s already looking at you, you nod and she reciprocates the gesture before you all start to push forward, the quiet doesn’t last long as your teams bullets start ricocheting all throughout the building.

You fired your gun twice and sent a runner and a clicker to the ground before you’re tackled to the ground by a runner, you can feel its hot, rancid breath on your neck as he desperately snaps his mangled teeth at you. You struggle with all your force to keep him away from you and as you feel your body being plagued with fatigue a gunshot rings out and the body falls limp on top off you. You groan and struggle to push him off as Lex offers you a hand up. You immediately scan the room for Ellie and see her savaging a clicker with her switchblade before Rita calls for everyone to move, you wait to see Ellie start running and then you follow, fleeing the dozens of infected that were on your tail. You can see the exit of the building you’re being led to and you see three people climb through the opening before Ellie gets to it, she turns back and as you make eye contact, she pauses.

“GO ELLIE I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU!” You scream to her and you breathe a sigh of relief when she reluctantly goes through the opening only to immediately suck it back in as the building shakes and rumbles and debris begins to fall all around you, right in front of the opening Ellie had just climbed through. “Fuck, we gotta find another way out.” You say as you bash yourself against the debris that wouldn’t move an inch.

“NO!” Ellie screeches as she watches you disappear behind the fallen debris that was now blocking the exit. She throws herself against it in vain as she only causes a dull ache to ring throughout the right side of her body. “Fuck fuck fuck.” She screams your name in a panic. “Please tell me you’re okay!” Her voice is shaky and desperate as her stomach churns and drops.

“I’m okay but we gotta find another- AGH!” Your sentence is interrupted as a clicker lunges at you sending you both crashing to the floor, you can hear Ellie screaming your name and the repeated thuds of her throwing herself against the wall but you can’t reassure because you’re not sure if you are okay. You jam your knife into the clicker’s skull and grip your gun to deliver two shots straight through the fungal crown growing out of its head. As it falls on top of you, you climb out from beneath it and scream a quick ‘I’m okay!’ to Ellie before shooting at the three runners that were speeding at you. You and the two other people still stuck inside with you empty out all of your magazines, use every bit of ammo you had, you’re sure your knife is blunt from the amount of infected it had slaughtered. As you’re running from a clicker you notice a large hammer on the floor and grip it tight enough that your knuckles turn white before turning and slamming it into the clicker until it laid in a crumpled pile before you. You take a second to catch your breath before you hear the muffled screams of help from the others as you run towards the sound. You bash the brains of a runner that had tackled Raphael to the ground before stabbing your knife into the back of a clicker and dragging it down as a blood-curdling screech fills the room, you slam the hammer into its head until it’s unmoving on the ground and Lacey can bounce back up with the same enthusiasm she always magically had. “Fuck that was bad. We all clear?” They nod and you begin moving forward desperate to find a way out now that the immediate threat was neutralised.

All Ellie could hear was a symphony of gunshots and shrieks until everything goes quiet. She feels her eyes sting with tears as the panic overtakes her as she continues to slam herself against the unmoving debris blocking the exit she had crawled through without you. “I should’ve waited... fuck why didn’t I wait?” She mutters to herself until she feels a pair of hands wrapping around her and yanking her away from the wall.

“Ellie, that’s not helping, we just have to trust they’re okay.” Rita tries to reason with her as she thrashes in her arms.

“No! Get the fuck off me. I have to get in there, I have to help her!” Ellie pushes a stunned Rita to the ground with a crazed look in her eyes before running off to try and find another way in as everyone calls out to her to stay put, she can hear their footsteps following but she doesn’t care, she needed to know if you were okay, she needed to find you. “Come on, please be okay.” She whispers as she frantically searches for another entrance until she sees a window a floor up that was open. She immediately starts looking for a way to climb it and as she manages to get a footing on a pipe running up the building she feels someone pulling her down again, sending her crashing to the ground on top of Ben. She immediately punches him and then squeezes round his neck with all her strength. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WE HAVE TO HELP THEM!” Ben claws at her as he thrashes in her arms and she only loosens up when she hears a thump only to see Lacey dropping to the ground from the window, she lets go of her grip around Ben’s neck as she immediately runs over to Lacey. Then Raphael drops to the ground also, her heartbeat quickens as there’s no sign of you, she storms over to Raphael and pushes him hard enough that he stumbles back to the ground. “WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?”

“I- I don’t know, she was right behind me when I went out the window.” She looks up only to see no sign of you and the lump in her throat returns making it hard for her to breathe. She calls your name and is met with silence until a minute later, although it felt like centuries, your head pops out of the window before you throw yourself out of it, smacking onto the ground with a whine. She runs over to you immediately cradling you in her arms as the tears that had been threatening to spill over, cascade down her cheeks in waves. You smile up at her flushed face as you attempt to catch your breath, the fall winding you slightly.

“Oh my god, I thought you were dead, you’re okay, you’re okay.” She pulls away to look down at you. “You’re okay right? You’re clear?”

“Yeah, I’m clear.” Your voice comes out as a wheeze and the relief flooding through her pushes her forward to attach her lips to yours in a passionate kiss before she remembers her surroundings and stands, pulling you up with her. You both turn to see everyone on patrol staring at you both with dumbfounded expressions before you roll your eyes, sick of the undivided attention on you both.

“What? You ain’t ever seen two girls kiss before? Shut your traps, you’re catching flies!” You snap and everyone immediately averts their gaze from you both as you all collect yourselves and get ready to keep moving. The thought that you still had four checkpoints to go through send a shiver through your body but feeling Ellie’s hand slip into yours and squeeze grounds you enough to continue your assignment.

“Fuck I was so worried- ugh- I- I thought you were dead.” Ellie breathes out through grunts and moans.

You had barely made it through the door of your home before she was attacking your body with kisses, sucking bruises on any skin she could find.

“Just let me take care of you please, I need to feel you.” She was almost pleading with you as if you would actually say no. She squeezed at your hips to prompt a response from your panting form.

“Take me upstairs babe.” At your words she immediately pulls you away from the wall that your back was against and led you upstairs, her lips never leaving your skin. You both tumble into her room and clumsily fall down onto her bed as you both desperately try and rid each other of the clothes that were preventing you from feeling your bodies press together. As you rip her top over her head your mouth waters at the sight of her already erect nipples, you lurch forward attaching your lips to her pink bud and swirling your tongue around it as she grips onto your hair and hisses at the sudden stimulation. You pull away as she lifts your top over your head, grabbing a handful of each tit and squeezing them together then pressing her face into them and leaving tiny, ticklish kisses over them. You giggle at her actions before she pushes you down flush with the bed, you whine a little at the distance between you two but she shushes you as she stands to yank her jeans and briefs off in one motion before tapping at your hip so you’d lift them, allowing her to strip you naked to match her.

Her hands run all over your naked form as she consumes you with her kisses, the dance of your tongues taking over your every thought. The warmth of her body pressing against yours feels like heaven as she slots herself flush with you and begins grinding herself down onto you. This was your favourite way to have sex with Ellie, the grinding of your bodies together felt like your hearts were merging into one and every thought that wasn’t her left your mind as you feel your core tightening and pulsing as her movements became rougher and rushed. The room was filled with your heavy breaths and groans until she swallowed them into her mouth as she once again attached her lips to yours before sucking a line from your jaw to your collarbones. “I love you so much, you can’t scare me like that again.” She says through kisses and pants as her hips stutter.

“Oh Ellie, I love you too. I’m sorry, all I could think about was getting back to you.” You cry out as the knot in your stomach tightens, you can tell from the scrunch of Ellie’s face she’s as close to finishing as you are. You lean up to whisper in her ear. “Cum with me babe, please. I love you, I love you, I love you- ugh Ellie oh my god!” You chant your words as they’re the only words ringing throughout your mind. You loved her and she loved you and it was the most important thing to you, you used to get stir-crazy when you hadn’t gone on patrol in awhile, you used to look forward to patrol but since your relationship with Ellie had blossomed, those feelings had changed, twisted into feelings of panic and fear because the worst thing you could imagine is being ripped from her or her you because the only thing you cared about was getting to love with her and be with her. As Ellie gazed at your beautiful face, slightly shiny from the sweat that was generated from the heat between the both of you, she realised she hated how patrol had made her feel recently because all it did was increase the risk of her not getting to grow old with you and that was all she wanted, to grow old and die in your arms because the thought of losing you sent her into a spiral she felt she’d never escape.

As you both finish with whines and moans, you expect her to slow down but she doesn’t which elicits a scream from you at the overstimulation. “Come on baby, give me another one, please, I just need you to give me one more.” She breathed out and the desperation in her voice was enough for you to fight through the urge to squirm and shy away from the feeling of her slick clunt gliding against yours roughly. It wasn’t long before her pace was faltering as she leant down to hold onto you for leverage as her body trembled as both of your second orgasms washed over you, your toes curled and you bit down onto her shoulder hard enough to draw blood as you felt lightheaded and dizzy from the force of your second release. As both your bodies relaxed and she collapsed fully onto you you released from her shoulder and kitten-licked at the wound before kissing her so she tastes her blood on your tongue, she moans into your mouth, a high-pitched moan that had both your eyes snapping open, her cheeks flush even darker than they already had before she cracks a small lop-sides smile and that you gigglle at. “Sorry about that...” You mutter sheepishly as you glance at the bite mark on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, that was hot.” She kisses your forhead before lying down on top of you once again as your heartbeats and breathing sync, her thumb drawing circles on your hip and your hands scratching at her back. She sighs into you before squeezing at your hip a little. “I think I might wanna do less patrolling, try and pick up some jobs in Jackson-” She was ready to explain herself, thinking you’d call her a pussy and tell her to stop being silly but your soft tone shocks her.

“Me too, today made me realise we’re so lucky to live in Jackson, where it’s safe and where we can have a pretty normal life and every time we leave those walls voluntarily we’re taking it for granted. We already lost 3 years, I don’t want our time together to be cut short.”

“Fuck you’re so perfect.” You giggle and press a kiss to the top of her head as you both relax into the comfort of your bodies being pressed together without anything between you both, her soft skin caressing yours. “We’re kinda becoming the pussies we used to make fun of.”

“Oh god don’t remind me.” You whine before sighing. “It’s all your fault though.”

“My fault?!” She gasps and pinches you as you squeal. “You know if I wasn’t so wiped we’d totally be fighting right now.”

“Mhm sure.” You reply monotonously not believing a word that leaves her pretty lips.

“No I’m so serious, you wouldn’t know what hit you.” She barely gets her sentence out before a loud yawn leaves her causing her to glare at your smug face.

“I believe you babe, get some sleep, it was a long day hm.” She nods and lays her head back down on your bare chest with a content sigh as you both feel the tiredness consume you and drag you into slumber.

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699 @lil-elliesgf @isitadinosaur @amberputh

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou ellie #ellie

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love-lilly02 · 9 months ago

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The Challenge part 2

Honestly, you forgot entirely about the challenge the next morning.

Rolling out of bed with a pounding headache, you showered quickly and tried your damdest to recover from the hangover with copious amounts of coffee. Training today would be absolute hell.

"Oi, bonnie!"

Nevermind, it seemed you couldn't even make it to training without encountering problems.

Soap bounded into the rec room, looking far too happy for a man who had drank his weight in beer only hours beforehand. Somehow even his footsteps were loud, not to mention his voice.

"Interesting night, eh?" He called, sliding up next to you where you had- rather ungraciously- flopped onto a couch. "Ooch, seems like someone cant handle their drinks well. Need your old boy to help, maybe give you a massage-"

"Stop sucking up," Gaz called, walking into the room. He too seemed fairly put together, although how they were managing this act was astounding to you. "Coddling her wont make this any easier." He took a seat on the couch across from where you and soap were sitting, studying you carefully.

"Ugh, 'ave a little fun eh?" Soap laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "The boys 'n I were talkin' last night, agreed we should set some rules up. Make this a bit easier, hm?"

You just stared at the two of them like they were idioits.

"I'm sorry- what are we talking about?" You asked, sliding away from Soap's playful grasp.

"The bet you made last night." Price and Ghost walked into the room at the exact same time, one smoking and the other holding a water bottle, just getting back from a workout. You had to figure out how the fuck these guys were functioning right now.

"Don't tell me you forgot?" Price asked, looking at you down his nose. All of a sudden the previous night rushed back to you- the singing and dancing on stage, telling the others you had been in theater as a teen.

Making that stupid fucking bet.

"Oh- you cant have been serious about that? I was drunk, I didn't really mean that-"

"Oh no darlin', don't go backing out now." Simon said, leaning against the counter. "Your word is your word, and we had a deal. Whoever finds ten photos of you, all taken before your junior year of highschool, gets to have you as their little plaything for a day."

Various murmurs of agreement come up around the room, and its then that you realize exactly what it is that you've set yourself up for.

"Quite honestly, sweetheart, I don't think any of us are backing down. It's a fairly simple challenge, anyways." Price smiled, and moved to stand right in front of you. His voice dropped to a sultry rumble, that you felt in the deepest corners of your body. "I mean, if I can say, I'm almost a hundred percent certain I'll have you tailing me around base by this time next week." He blew the smoke from his cigarette around your face, and winked at you. "See you at training, darling."

For what felt like forever, you sat on the couch dumbfounded at his obvious attempts at flirting. Slowly, the other three filed out of the room, moving to do their own daily routines.

Soap crouched in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face. "Don't mind em' yea? He'll keep. 'Sides, I promise when I get my way with you I won't be nearly as rough." He laughed and stood, patting you on your head.

"See yer at training, lass!"

Fucking hell.

My Masterlist

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #poly 141 #simon ghost x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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bryngmemoney · 9 months ago

Text

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw:none

🪡Chapter Twenty-six: Ignored

“Uno.”

“Oh you suck Y/n,” Nobara said, reaching to pick up a card from the pile in front of you. You just smile, officially winning the game when you place down your last card.

“Shouldn’t you two be working?” Maki said as she put a safety pin through Yuta’s shirt. Yuta jumped when he felt a prick at his side, “Ow.” Maki looked at him apologetically, “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“I’m basically finished, just waiting for Gojo to check over them. He saw Yuki’s already and I finished the the guys’ today.”

“And Nobara finished as well? Because we planned to come here to work on the clothes.” Maki questioned.

“Yeah they’re all good, everyone’s set,” Nobara looked down shuffling the cards together for another round. “You’re positive?” you asked as you watched her flip the cards together. “It’s just a few details, i’ll finish it next class, i’m exhausted from this week.”

“Well good for you guys then,” Maki turned back to Yuta trying figure out what needed adjustments to make the shirt fit him right. “Do you need some help Maki?”

“No it’s fine Y/n. I just don’t know why I can’t get Yuta’s shirt to fit him the way I want it too, it’s annoying having to continue to rip the seems apart and everything.”

“Don’t worry Maki, i’m sure you’ll get it right!” Yuta encouraged, trying to not seem off put by the threat of more safety pins poking him.

You and Nobara gave encouragement to her, then returned to your game, only for your attention to turn back to Maki a few minutes later when the sound of a metal clink echoed through the room.

“Shit!”

“What happened?” Nobara asked, leaning slightly around your head as you turned around to look at Maki who was currently sitting in front of a sewing machine. Yuta turned to you guys with a worried look “Ugh, I think this thing is broken, and it ruined the shirt.” Maki, clearly frustrated just stared at the piece of clothing in front of her. “I don’t have anymore of the same fabric either.”

You, Nobara and Yuta all exchanged a glance, trying to silently figure out a way to help.

“I could go and run to the store and get more fabric,” Yuta offered. “And I can go with you! I went with Maki to the store that one time. I know which ones you used, but we can take the receipt just to be sure,” you added on.

“I can stay here and help with whatever you need,” Nobara walked over to where Maki was sitting, willing to just be moral support or do whatever was needed.

“That.. that would be great actually, thanks.”

Finally getting into the car after packing all of Maki’s fabric from the list she had sent you, you sighed leaning against the seat. It shouldn’t have taken more than hour to drive, get the fabrics, then drive back and meet them at the room. However you and Yuta had the unfortunate luck of having to deal with a clueless employee. As patient as you two were being, how could they say they didn’t sell what you were looking for in the store, that you were at the wrong place when the name at the top of the receipt was the location you were currently at?

“That was exhausting,” Yuta mumbled, starting up the car ready to take you two back. “Poor Maki, she really wanted to get everything done, but I don’t think she’ll finish today,” you said while unlocking your phone, only to be met with a few messages from Megumi, the last one specifically catching your eye.

“Shit.”

Author’s Note: r.i.p. maki

was originally gonna make y/n and nobara play b.s. but then i realized that doesn’t rlly work with two ppl

quick question tho guys, would u want two chapters tomorrow ill probably have them ready

but anyways hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng

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allyheart707 · 10 months ago

Note

Are you still taking art prompts?

I had an idea! It would be fun to see a little crossover between your fic and your comic!

Ex: Due to some cosmic glitch, Leo connects with LS Donnie instead of EDHPMW (tricky acronym lol) Donnie. Confusion ensues.

Leo: Where's Donnie..?

LS Donnie: I'll do you one better, WHO is Donnie?

Anyway, no pressure. Love to see your updates!

- Later, in a different universe -

Donatello. It was a name that felt as if it had been stuck on the tip of his tongue the second Carol had brought up naming them. He wasn’t sure why it felt so right, or where the warm feeling came from- like a dream long forgotten, but it was the perfect name. Raph, the snapping turtle, had insisted that he was their brother and this name was the second piece of evidence that pointed towards that possibility. The first one, of course, was him being a mutant turtle.

He still wasn’t sure he could trust the two strangers- especially the other one… Heishi. He had been nothing but a menace since he arrived. It seemed he was trying to get them in trouble. Currently, the slider was desperately trying to convince his brother- Michelangelo- to further break their bed.

“If we pull this part off here I bet I could use it to make a weapon! Now that would be a distraction!” He pushed Mikey, who looked to his brother for the answers.

Donnie shook his head- that would almost certainly get them in way more trouble than it was worth. Plus, they just wanted to go outside, not to hurt anyone. Mikey frowned, but turned back to Heishi and shook his head.

“Nu-uh, mm sorry, but they would get really mad if we broke our bed.” Mikey answered, making Heishi groan.

“Hmmm, welllll… what if I promise to show you all my cool warrior moves?” Donnie knew exactly how this would turn out, and groaned as his brother let out an excited squeal.

“REALLY?” He gasped, and Heishi gave him a big grin.

It did not take much to break his little brother, who thought on the new deal for only a second before giving in and nodding.

“Okay! But only if you do it on my bro’s bed- er… Dee’s bed! He likes his bed cuz the cameras can’t see it!” He whispered the last part as he pointed to the bottom bunk where Donatello currently sat, staring at the both of them in disappointment.

“You're going to get us all in trouble, you know.” He offered, but Heishi was already yanking on the middle rung to their bunk, attempting to pull it from the bed.

“Yeah! An’ what if they put those handcuffs on you again?! Or worse?” Raph added, making Donnie nod- at least someone had some sense.

Of course, his brother and Heishi were not listening- both now on his bed, pulling against the rung until there was a resounding C R A C K and they both tumbled backwards- the wooden rung now in their hands. Ugh.

“AH-HA! Now this is a plan!” Heishi shouted triumphantly, holding up the splintered remains of their bunk as if it was something spectacular.

Donnie turned and flopped against his pillow- refusing to see the end of this. ‘Will they fix our bunk?’ He wasn’t sure. When the light broke a few weeks ago- they fixed that but… him and his brother have never broken anything on purpose before. ‘They took away our books… would they take away their papers next? Or their bunk? That is what they broke so what if-’ Donnie shook his head, burrowing it further into his pillow-

‘no, Carol wouldn’t let them take their bunk. Plus, how would they fit it through the door? It wouldn’t fit!’

‘... wait… how did it get into the room? … was it always here?’ Donnie lost himself to his thoughts as he watched the large snapping turtle pace back and forth at the door and attempted to ignore the delighted chattering between his brother and Heishi.

“Master Draxum says I'm too ‘small and weak’ for big weapons… but he does let me use a wooden sword sometimes! I’m really good with it too!” His words were followed by whooshing sounds and Donnie's bed bobbing up and down with each thrust of Heishi’s “sword”- making Mikey gasp in excitement. Even Raph seemed to be a little impressed, stopping his pacing to watch, big eyes wide in a mixture of nervousness and awe. That only fueled the fire in Heishi. Ughhhh. Curiosity got the best of Donnie and he finally decided to turn his head to watch the ‘greatest warrior’ swing his ‘sword’ around.

He couldn’t stand on the bed without hitting his head, so instead he was moving around on his knees- despite that rather awkward position, he was keeping himself upright which was already a little impressive. He moved with surprising speed, twisting his arms and slashing the sword about as if fighting some imaginary enemy. Every time Donnie thought he would hit the wall or one of the bedposts he would pull away just in time and begin another set of random exercises.

It was… a little … cool.

Then, as Donnie tried his best to cool his expressions and Heishi swung upwards for what looked like a finishing blow, that the sword exploded in blue light. Heishi screamed, throwing the sword and hitting his shell against the wall as they all stared wide eyed at the bright blue that danced over the sharp wooden stick.

-Meanwhile-

-To Be Continued- (??? If people are interested.)

I thought it would be fun that, for the crossover, they switched media! My comic being written, and my fic being in comic format! :DD

I was so nervous to post this and kinda went blind re-reading it over and over again soooo there are probably grammar/spelling errors I missed. Sorry about that- I might go through and edit them later?

#rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #ally asks #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #little subjects au #turtle tots #rottmnt seperated au #Even Dead #crossover

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absolutewhore101 · 9 months ago

Text

Should've Said No - Chapter 4

A/N: sorry this one is so late! last week got busy very quickly, and i just didn't have the time to sit down and write this. i hadn't originally planned on writing this chapter, but the idea hit me in the car while i was driving earlier, so here we are. (hint at next chapter at the very end!)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Listen to 'Should've Said No' by Taylor Swift

Warnings: swearing, assholery

Word Count: 733 words

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

MINORS DNI

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

Joel’s head slowly turned back to face you, a fire in his eyes you’d never seen directed at you.

Before he could open his mouth, you started talking again.

“Can you believe Joel? Everything we used to have - the songs, the smiles, the flowers - it’s all gone! All because you couldn’t keep it in your pants!”

“Is that all?”

“God, ugh! I just… I can’t even look at you.”

“Look, I’d take it back if I could. It was a moment of weakness and we both know that. Hell, what was I supposed to do?!”

“You should’ve said no! You should’ve thought twice, maybe with more than just your dick! I should’ve been there, right in the back of your mind, and I shouldn’t be standing here asking myself why the fuck you’d do this!”

Joel took a step forward, but Tommy stepped in the middle of you two.

“I wouldn’t get much closer to her.” He said, voice low.

“Oh for the love of god, Tommy. You knew, too! Don’t stand here and try to play hero when you knew damn well what was going on.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Tommy said, turning to face you, “but it wasn’t my place to say anything. That was between you and Joel, not me. I’m sorry.”

“No. No you don’t get to be sorry. Joel might’ve done this to me, but you didn’t even try to help. You could’ve tried talking to him, you could’ve stopped him, you could’ve just told me! But instead you let this go on, knowing how much it would hurt me.”

Tommy’s eyes landed on the ground in front of your feet, his hands on his hips.

When he looked up again, tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“Baby, c’mon…” Joel trailed off.

You shook your head, taking a step back from the two of them.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same? After everything you put me through?”

Joel shook his head. “We don’t gotta be the same, we just gotta work through this and come out better on the other side. We can do that, can’t we?”

“No. You should’ve known that I would’ve found out eventually. I’m not stupid, y’know. Even if you hadn’t been so obvious about it, someone would’ve told me eventually.”

“Was she worth it?” Tommy said, breaking the tense silence that had settled between the three of you.

“Excuse me?” Joel answered.

“Tommy.” You said sternly. “This isn’t your place, you’ve made that pretty clear.”

“Might not be my place, but that doesn't mean I can’t ask him what the hell he was thinking.” Tommy turned around to face Joel, stepping into his space.

Joel held his eye, bringing his arms up to cross his arms over his chest.

“You wanna do this right now? Right in front of her?”

“I don’t think I’m the one who deserves an apology.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, slowly nodding his head.

“I don’t think she wants to hear my apology. Do you?”

You thought about it. An apology wouldn’t undo what he did, but wouldn’t it give you some kind of closure? Or was your closure the end of your relationship?

You shrugged your shoulders. “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave him a smug smirk, watching him shake his head.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. Happy?”

“No. But as long as you don’t step foot in my house again I will be.”

Tommy nodded his head.

“You can move into a new house tomorrow. Why don’t you stay with Carly tonight? I’m sure she’d love it.” Tommy gave him a smirk, watching Joel’s hands clenched into fists by his side.

Joel stalked off without another word, heading for the house just a few down from your own.

“Motherfucker.” You muttered, and Tommy chuckled.

Tommy looked over his shoulder at you, something akin to sympathy in his eyes.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Absolutely not. You’re not off the hook just because you made a stand against Joel. It’s gonna take a lot more than that if you ever want to be friends again.” You told him, pushing past him and walking towards your house.

As you closed your front door behind you, you couldn’t help but ask yourself - why couldn’t he just be a better man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

Taglist (let me know if you wanted to be added/removed!):

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#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #x reader #tlou x reader #tommy miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal x reader #taylor swift title series #Spotify

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russett-pots · 2 years ago

Text

The New Girl

Baek Jiheon

Tags: pussy-eating, deepthroat, creampie

Words: 3.9k+

Sorry for the delay. Worked on this for some time.

You walk down the pathway outside your college building. It hasn’t been long since your arduous class from your advanced math and thermodynamics class. But it’s now your break and you just wanted to go to the vending machine and maybe buy a drink or some ice cream.

Just insert the bill then choose your item then out rolls your ice-cold treat. But then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir?” A girl with a brown sweater and crop top approaches you.

You turn around and open your treat. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you but do you know where the science building is?”

“Ah— just take a straight and go right then it should be in front of you.”

“Okay. Thank you.” She bows to you.

You bow to her back then just return to your ice cream. You enjoy it as you go to your class. Your day goes by, going to endless classes. Each lecture is getting more and more boring but you have to endure it.

Now it is already 3 pm. But you still have one more class but it is at 6 pm. So you go to the library to do some studying to burn some time. You head to the building then up the elevators, scan your ID to get in then ride the escalators to the seventh floor.

Over in the corner is your usual spot and there you swoop down and take it before anyone else can take it. There you plop down your bag, bring out your study material and just spend the next two and a half hours combing from your last class and ready yourself for the test next week.

You review all the material you covered in your last class, going through all the formulas and concepts. It’s almost your next class but your phone vibrates.

“Class canceled. See you next week. Enjoy your weekend.”

Ah, well time to go, I guess.

You pack up all your stuff and walk out of the library and to the canteen. Your stomach is growling for some food since lunch. You barely had anything in between. Only a small sandwich. The canteen is across the campus so it’s a long walk. But today is a nice day to go out. Nice cool weather coupled with a clear sky and a slight breeze.

But anyway, dinner is near and you’re starving. Inside there is a long line already but from what you can tell the food is good. The aroma is enticing. The food options are great.

Beef stew? Kimchi Stew?

Then that doesn’t include the side dishes that this particular canteen is known for. Finally, it’s your turn on the line. You pick up the tray and go through the counter and get everything you can. You’re starving and you know it. When you come to the register you pull out your food stubs and it should be enough to pay for your food.

You go to an empty table in the canteen and start diving into your food. Just casually eating your food, observing your surroundings. Then you see her again, the same girl that asked you for directions. She looks like she’s lost but still orders her food.

You look at her. She just goes around and sees the packed canteen then she sees you with your empty table. She’s hesitant for a second but then shyly walks to you.

“Excuse me? Can I sit here?”

You scoot over and leave her a place to sit. “No problem”. Showing a smile

She eats her food quietly, barely making eye contact with you. Even with avoiding seeing you.

You turn to her. “Okay, let me introduce myself to you. Hi! I’m Parkin.” As you extend your hand.

She shakes it while taking a sip of her milk. “My name is Jiheon. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you? Haven’t we met before?”

“Ugh sorry. Oh! You remember?! Sorry, I’m just a freshman.”

“Oh, you’re a freshman?!”

“Argh, quiet down. I don’t like people knowing.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine. Hey, want me to give you a tour? So you won’t get lost again.”

Jiheon checks her watch. “Is it alright with you? I don’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s alright. It’s almost the weekend. Hurry up, finish your food so we can get going.”

Once you are done with your food. You leave the canteen and start the tour, going around the different buildings around the campus. She seems comfortable around you and clings to you as you bring her around.

“Okay let me show you one of my favorite places on the campus.”

“Are you going to show me your favorite sleeping spot?” She playfully asks

“No!...yes….Anyway, here we are.”

You get inside the glass doors.

“Okay let’s take the elevators. Unless you wanna walk seven floors?”

“Okay, I had enough exercise walking around…”

“… and getting lost?”

“Ya!”

“Hey, I’m just kidding.”

The elevator arrives. You and Jiheon enter and the typical people arrive. People pretend to text someone even if there is no signal inside, students with books in their hands ready for the study session they’ll have, and lastly, the one with earphones with too loud music so everyone inside can hear what he is listening to.

The elevator stops on each floor that the others want to get off. Then lastly when it is just you and Jiheon left in the elevator.

It is already on the top floor. You gesture to Jiheon that you have arrived. It is your favorite area to do your business. First, there is the table where you normally do your studying. The studying you just did before going for dinner.

Then Jiheon points out to the couch on the side. “Is this your sleeping area?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” You sigh. “But! The aircon is nice. You have a good place to rest your head and there aren’t a lot of people that pass by. Perfect place.”

Jiheon turns back to the elevator. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Ya! Sometimes I just…”

“Need to rest?” She chuckles. “I’m just kidding.”

You head back down the elevators and exit back to the outdoors. Now you give a tour around the campus about the buildings.

“So, what’s your major?” You ask.

“Child development.”

“Well, there is the education building over there. You might have most of your classes there.”

“Here is my building, engineering. On the first floor, there are these labs with heavy machinery. Over there is the Liberal Arts building. It has a lot of labs for media stuff. I don’t know…”

“Really? Like what do they have?”

“Like tv stations, many computer labs and such. Oh, here is one of the canteens. Most of them are student-owned food stalls.”

“So, what’s that building?”

“That’s the international male dorm building. I stay there.”

“Oh, you’re an international student? You look Korean.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m just Chinese. I actually have a scholarship. That’s how I got here. If it weren’t for that maybe I wouldn’t have been here.”

“Well, that’s nice.”

Now finally you reach the sports facilities.

“Now this is the building where you can see the pool, badminton, basketball, and volleyball courts. There is also a table tennis area.”

“Oh really? I used to play before in high school.”

“We can use them as long as no classes are going on.”

Jiheon runs to the windows. “Is that the oval and the football field?”

“Yup! Sometimes we have rallies there. Also, there’s another place.”

You lead her to another part of the school. There is the amphitheater. A large venue with a large area for an audience with a stage as well.

“Here we usually host our festivals. Like the cheer team would do their performances here.”

“Ohhh that’s cool. When’s the festival?”

“Later this term You’ll see.”

You turn to her. It’s already early in the evening. But Jiheon’s eyes are shining. They are glistening like the stars in the night sky. She turns to you. Her eyes now smile as she sees you. Her beauty is ethereal. You never noticed until now to see how pretty she is. At that moment you already fell for her.

You look away coolly. On the top of the amphitheater is a hill overlooking the city.

“Follow me.” You take her with you and bring her to the edge. There you can see the skyline. It is about to turn dark with the sunset in the distance. “I actually never went to Seoul. During the holidays I go to my hometown and the only thing I have been doing is studying, studying, studying. I never really got the chance to go to the city.”

Jiheon gets surprised. “Then let me take you down there. You’ll love it. Tomorrow is the weekend, right? We have plenty of time. This time I’ll tour you around.” She turns to you but instead of a smile and looks at you with determination.

“We can do that tomorrow.” You calm down Jiheon.

“So what do you want to do now?”

“Relax.” You head to the bench and take a seat. “I love the view. Can we just stay here for a while?”

Jiheon sits beside you. “I think the view is beautiful.”

“Like you?” You blurted out randomly.

“What?” Jiheon whispers to you.

“Uhhh….I mean that everyone is beautiful. Like you?”

“Be honest with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me?”

“Yeah…..”

“Well, I think I like you too…”

“Then if you don’t mind me.” You touch her chin and pull it closer to you for a kiss. A kiss that would start a warm feeling in your heart.

She leans back but still with your hand on her chin. “That feels good.”

“Good? Just good?” You ask.

“Okay, I have to admit. It was amazing.”

“It’s getting late. I think I have to go.”

“Can you drop me off at my apartment?”

“Sure…sure.”

You get off the top of the hill and walk down the stairs of the amphitheater and back down to the main road.

“So, Jiheon?”

“Hmmm.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“High school? My school is called idol school. It’s an art school.”

“Really?”

“You don’t know? Well, some popular alumni are idols there. Like Lee Saerom and Jang Gyuri. I was even friends with Gyuri. We’re pretty close.”

“Oh, that’s cool. So you’re friends with celebrities?”

“I wouldn’t say, friends. It’s hard being friends with celebrities. But we can manage.”

Soon you leave campus and head to the subway station. Jiheon shows you how to get your transport card. She puts you on the train then it goes off.

“Woah, where I’m from we don’t have something this nice.”

“It’s easy to go around in the city.”

It’s already rush hour and it’s Friday. Good thing that you and Jiheon are able to find a place to sit together. The station goes on and each stop lets people off and brings people in. But you and Jiheon quietly sit down and wait until the end of the line.

As soon as the train stops, Jiheon pulls you with her and rushes through the turnpikes and up to the surface. She walks with you around the streets to her apartment.

“Wow, Jiheon, you live far from school.”

“Far? Well if you live in the dorms. Everywhere is far.”

“Shut up!”

Jiheon chuckles. “Anyway, here I am.”

You look up at the building then your stomach growls.

“You hungry?” Jiheon asks.

“I guess dinner wasn’t enough.”

“Come up. I’ll make you some ramen.”

You follow her up to her apartment. She looks nervous as you walk up the stairs. But she tries to remain calm. Slow and sure that she can get to the door and open it for you.

“Where’s your roommate?” You ask.

“Oh, she won’t be on campus until next week. She’s still on vacation or something.” Jiheon waves off before going to the kitchen to boil the water.

You also go to the kitchen and rest your arms on the countertop. “So, what’s on the menu?”

Jiheon opens the cabinet and pulls out two ramen packs. “Shin or Jin?”

“Shin. Can you handle the spice?”

‘Of course!” Jiheon replies. She returns the Jin ramen and picks out another pack. When the water starts to boil, Jiheon opens the pack and places the noodles, soup base, and vegetable flakes in the pot.

“Just wanna ask” Jiheon turns to you. “You like going to girls’ apartments when they’re alone?”

You get taken back. “Uhhh….not necessarily. I mean you offered ramen and I like ramen.”

“Okay.” Jiheon turns back to the pot. “Wel I haven’t invited boys up in my room before. If you’re wondering.” Her head looks at you and winks at you.

Not long after, the ramen finishes cooking. Jiheon puts the ramen in a big bowl and takes out two pairs of chopsticks and two smaller bowls.

“Come with me. You like views, right?”

You help her with bringing the food. She takes you upstairs to the roof and outside is a view of the city. Maybe as grand as the hill but is still something you adore. Jiheon quickly sets up a table and a couple of chairs.

Both of you eat the ramen as you admire the view.

“Jiheon, let’s speak casually. You can call me Oppa if you want.”

“Really?”

Jiheon smiles then same eyes again. “Oppa, there is something on your face.” She takes out her handkerchief and wipes off the small drip of soup on your face. Your eyes are locked on to hers. Yet she focuses on whipping your face. Her cheeks are so fluffy, and you want to touch them. Her face is so gentle you want to play with them.

Once you are done with your ramen, you stand and walk to the edge. With your hands in your pockets and your focus is on the view. You take a deep breath and admire the view. Jiheon comes over. You clasp your hands together and try to make yourself warm. Even if it is spring the temperature is still low.

Jiheon takes your hand and gives you her hand warmer. But instead, you hold her hand. You look at her. She looks back at you. Your heart is racing like it is running a marathon. You can see she is as nervous as you. You cannot handle it anymore.

“Why bother waiting?” You use your hand to hold her cheek and kiss her on the lips.

She takes in your kiss and leans back to pull you down to a deck chair. There she is making out with you. Her kiss is amazing. Never had you ever experienced something so gentle yet firm. Her lips are soft and plump, something that you can say you enjoy.

“Oppa, I like you but are you going to do it?”

“Well if you want?”

“I want. But not here. It’s too cold.”

You pull her up but continue to kiss her. A back and forth petting of each other from the roof deck, down the stairs, and into Jiheon’s bedroom. You toss her in the bed and smack your lips on your meal.

She smiles back at you while she swiftly takes off her top. You do the same after removing each button from your shirt. Now with yourself topless and showing off your body, you get down and slowly remove Jiheon’s pants. You remove the button and pull it down. Now the only thing left on her is her underwear.

Impatient, Jiheon removes her panties. Now in front of you is a naked Jiheon. You can see her unshaven pussy.

“You don’t shave?”

“What?!” Jiheon gets embarrassed. “Should I be?” Her cheeks become red.

“Well, I’m not. So don’t worry.”

Jiheon leans her head back on the bed and gets relieved.

So now you get back onto your snack. You first lick on the slit. The one that parts flesh. You insert your middle finger first, slowly pushing in and out. Your tongue joins my playing with her clit. This combination becomes more intense and since it becomes more intense. Jiheon starts to moan. Then it becomes louder and louder. A surge of pleasure waves over Jiheon.

She grabs onto your hair as it becomes more intense. You play more and more. Sweat forms on Jiheon’s face. It is hard for her to handle it. More and more unstoppable stimuli push Jiheon to the limit. Now she is shouting, screaming profanities about how good you are.

“Fuck! Oppa! Fuck! You’re so goooood……”

You are silenced but instead of trying to reply you go back down and eat out to your heart’s content.

It becomes so much. It becomes so hard for Jiheon to handle. She has to grab onto your hair and pull it towards her. The pain in your head doesn’t bother you but instead, it is an encouragement for you to do more.

“Oppa! Fuck it is going to….”

Too late. Before Jiheon can say anything. All of her cum spewed all over your face. Each squirt runs to your face. Then it trickles down her legs. It tastes sweet. A sweet taste of victory.

Jiheon looks down at you. Her hair is messed up, all over the place.

“Jiheon-ah. You like it?”

“I fucking love it. Now.” She gets up and switches positions with you after pushing you onto the bed.

“Oppa. Now tell me. Are you going to like this?”

Like what you did. First, she peels off the underwear then she sees your large girthy cock. Something that she would have never thought anyone can be packing. She gets shocked and ducks down. “Jeeez that’s huge.”

You smile in confidence. “Well, what can I say? I can make any girl pleased.”

But Jiheon gets mesmerized. Sure it is big but it is large enough that she becomes curious. She gently strokes it. “I know it can get big but I have never seen it this big.”

You squint your eyes and look down at her. “I’m above average I guess.”

“Above average? You’re huge.” She still transfixes it. “Anyway, let me play with you.”

She goes back to your shaft. Then she strokes it. First, slowly then it becomes faster. Her cold hand is bringing a feeling of pleasure.

Soon after, her tongue joins, First with the tip, one of the most sensitive parts. Then she moves from the base to the top. While this happens her right hand is still stroking your cock. Suddenly you feel this sensation on your balls. It is Jiheon’s left hand playing with it.

The combination of these three actions brings your euphoria. The tongue, each hand is enough for you to start moaning. The pleasure receptors are receiving stimuli that no girl has ever given you.

“Jiheon, you’re so good.” You moan.

She pops her head from your cock. “I seem to know everything about this cock—“

All of a sudden, you push Jiheon down on your cock. It is instinctive. You didn’t know you did it but it just happened. But you didn’t stop. You didn’t let go. But instead, you push her further. The deepthroating feels even better than her blowjob.

Jiheon doesn’t stop. She doesn’t want to let go. She is handling it like she is enjoying it as well. You let go but she is still on your cock. She is still erupting saliva. It gets all over your crotch. What after feels like an eternity, Jiheon let go of herself from you.

“Damn Jiheon, I didn’t know you can handle that.”

“What do you mean? I love this. I never thought I’d love this.”

“Let’s have fun now.”

You pick her up and toss her on the bed. You position her ass in front of you. Her smooth buttocks are now in front of you. You give it a good slap before you use your tip to drag a line from her asshole to her pussy lips.

Even from this, Jiheon can feel a small flash of pleasure, your tip on her pussy. Then you slowly insert your length in her. Slowly at first, you push it all the way deep into her. Your crotch is touching her ass. It is a perfect fit. Then it is all the way in. Her walls are so tight and it is so ready for you.

Then you slowly pull out but do not go all the way. When you reach half, you go back to it. This is how you are going to play with her. The repetitive action is now playing with you. You pull and push it faster and faster. You get in faster and faster.

This makes Jiheon and you moan louder and louder. You never expect something with a girl to be this nice, especially with a girl like Jiheon. She gives you immense pleasure. Your veiny cock is now penetrating at the deepest points. Her pussy is lubricating your cock. This allows you to move even faster and faster.

Louder and louder you shout. Jiheon is already screaming profanities again.”

“Fuckig hell, oppa. Please do more. I want more of your cock.”

You give her more. More and more you give her. Your cock runs deep in her. She is handling it like a champ. She is taking it all.

You flip her around. You lie down on the bed and she starts to ride on you. You are tired from all your thrusting. Now it is Jiheon’s turn to lead.

She goes slowly at first, moving forward, left, and right. Your cock goes all around her walls. Then she starts to move up and down. He uses her legs to dictate the pace, slow at first then he goes however she wants and she wants more. She wants a lot. She moves faster and faster.

Her breasts start to jiggle. You get up and start sucking on them. Her tiny nipples. Your mouth is on her left and your hand is on her right. Then you start to kiss her. Tongues are connecting. You grope her ass. It is as soft as her breasts, perfect for you.

“Jiheon, I’m going to cum.” These five words come out of your mouth.

“Fuck cum inside.”

“Aren’t you going to get pregnant?”

“Just do it. We’ll deal with it later.”

You would love a cream pie. But you would expect Jiheon to want one either. So you just follow her instructions. She then moves at a faster pace. You grunt and grunt. Your moans now fill the room but are still not as loud as Jiheon's.

Then you burst. All of your cum runs inside Jiheon. You shoot inside the deepest parts of her womb. Round after round you cum in her. Once you signal you are done, Jiheon sits up and gets out of your shaft. You can see the leaking cum from her cunt.

“You sure you won’t get pregnant.”

“Don’t worry I have a plan.” She falls beside you.

You kiss her one more time. “Jiheon, how can an innocent person like you can be so good in bed?”

She turns to you. “Well, looks can be deceiving, and aren’t you happy that I’m this good? I’m happy you are.”

You lean back. “Yeah, you can say so.”

You go to sleep while hugging her. It can say it is aftercare. Some nice cuddles after such intense sex.

“Night, Jiheon.”

“Love you oppa.”

“Love you too.”

Now it is the next morning. The space beside you is empty. You are still naked from last night's events. After scanning for your pants, you put it on and head out of the bedroom.

Outside is Jiheon. She is preparing a couple of sandwiches.

“Oppa, come here. We can have a picnic.”

#Kpop smut #Fromis_9 smut #Baek Jiheon #Jiheon smut

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