#what wiretapping

[uwemagain]

He accepts the kiss, over and over behind his eyes | The Kiss by Elizabeth Libbey

Mark Pakin as Nick | Only Friends

[vitamin-zeeth]

Just watched the game theory on why phoenix Wright is actually a criminal and he's wrong on almost every point. Matpat you're spouting bullshit and I can prove it Phoenix did nothing wrong. Apart from nicking that wiretap he did do that

[spicypussywave]

Sand, I'm gonna have to disagree with you.

[columboscreens]

[syn-odics]

I stg if I get one more fucking video pop up like "if you leave your pet at a shelter fuck you forever people don't deserve pets unless than can be with them 24/7 through every possible life circumstance and if you ever have to surrender or board your pet you should kill yourself but only after finding a better owner for the pet so it isn't traumatized by your death"

[theinfinitedivides]

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

for Dong Hoon and Ji An (is this my selfish choice to get more ficlets for them? Why yes, yes it is - but it still is a perfect choice for them).

She is not sure if she has heard him, at first. It is late, even for them, and they are on his couch, his legs curled up beneath him, his head just there, in the slight concave of her lap, her fingers tracing the faintest lines of his temple. She had thought him asleep, somehow, exhausted after the activities of the day and already well on his way to catching a chill, and so she startles when he says it again, voice muffled by the fabric of her pants.

Ji-ahn ah, he murmurs, half-dreaming, Ji-ahn, and she hums in response. Do you know? There is a beat, perhaps more, and he shifts, almost as clear as a bell, now, thick with the last threads of consciousness—that day by the railroad tracks, he continues, when you came to me, and said you were going to tell everyone. And I hit you.

She places the lightest touch over his mouth, then, trying to quiet him—she has known, even without him saying so, that there is no need to bring this up between them, not when they are like this—but he raises a hand, swats at her wrist, a lazy thing with eyes closed, and she takes it for what it is. I didn't want to hurt you, I don't think. I've never wanted to hurt you.

I know, she answers, because he needs to hear it more than she does herself, and he makes a sound in the back of his throat, like he is trying to keep himself awake despite his better judgement and failing anyway. He is deathly quiet afterwards, and so she makes as if to reach for the blankets—Ji-ahn, he says, and she stills. I know what I wanted, back then. I told myself that wasn't what it was, but I know. You knew me better than I did, even then. I think I was afraid of knowing.

I know, she says again, this time almost to herself, and then, louder, I know, as she resumes, one hand drawing the blanket around his shoulders. I know. He will not remember this, it seems. The tension eases from him, slowly, something she doubts he has realized he had, and she wants to ask, But do you have it now, what you wanted?—but he is shifting again, now, and turns his face into her other hand, and exhales, a great release, and there is the cool weight of her ring against the bow of his lip, and the steadiness of his breathing, and he does not answer that. She does not ask him to, and it is well.

(send me prompt requests!)

[starblaster]

please remember that you don’t need to have a reaction to everything right away, especially economic/socio-politics and the news. it's important to practice media literacy, take time to process information. exercise critical thinking, remember that even so-called "credible" news outlets are often mouthpieces of the state, and of the wealthy. dig deeper than headlines, look at sources, ask yourself what claims are being made, and who stands to benefit if those claims are true (because plenty of people in positions of power love to outright lie about oppressed groups... remember that)

[bellflower-goat]

Lovely.

[keidakat]

Does anyone else call their smart home devices "wiretap" but in an endearing way?

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]

On 7/31/2019 Trump has a private meeting with Putin. On 8/3/2019, just 3 days after his private meeting with Putin Trump issues a request for a list of top US spies. By 2021 the CIA reports an unusually high number of their agents are being captured and/or being murdered. During the search executed at Mar A Lago the FBI find nore documents with lists of U.S. informants on them.

A Timeline

• FBI wiretapped Russian gambling ring headquartered at Trump Tower for two years - March 21, 2017

• Trump revealed highly classified information to Russian foreign minister and ambassador - May 15, 2017

• Trump, Putin Meet For 2 Hours In Helsinki - July 16, 2018

• Rand Paul Goes To Russia And Delivers Letter For Trump, Marking Our Era Of Irony - August 9, 2018

• Following the Money: Trump and Russia-Linked Transactions From the Campaign to the Presidential Inauguration - December 17, 2018

• The US extracted a top spy from Russia after Trump revealed classified information to the Russians in an Oval Office meeting - September 10, 2019

• Trump’s Loose Lips Force US to Extract Spy From Kremlin - September 10, 2019

• Was Mar-a-Lago Trespasser a Tourist or a Spy? A Judge Said Her Story Didn’t Hold Up. - November 25, 2019

• Trump downplays massive cyber hack on government after Pompeo links attack to Russia - December 19, 2020

• Russia has been cultivating Trump as an asset for 40 years, former KGB spy says - January 29, 2021

• There was Trump-Russia collusion — and Trump pardoned the colluder - April 17, 2021

• Longtime GOP operatives charged with funneling Russian national’s money to Trump, RNC - September 20, 2021

• Captured, Killed or Compromised: C.I.A. Admits to Losing Dozens of Informants - October 5, 2021

• Files Seized From Trump Are Part of Espionage Act Inquiry - August 12, 2022

• Ex-Clinton aide implies 'President of France' file found at Trump's home during Mar-a-Lago raid could be valuable to Putin as 'kompromat' - August 13, 2022

• Inventing Anna: The tale of a fake heiress, Mar-a-Lago, and an FBI investigation - August 22, 2022

• Russians used a US firm to funnel funds to GOP in 2018. Dems say the FEC let them get away with it - October 30, 2022

• Trump makes shocking comments about trusting Putin over US 'intelligence lowlifes' - January 31, 2023

• Russia's Prigozhin admits links to what US says was election meddling troll farm - February 14, 2023

• GOP operative sentenced to 18 months for funneling Russian money to Trump- February 17, 2023

• Trump allegedly discussed US nuclear subs with foreign national after leaving White House: Sources - October 5, 2023

• 'So appalled': What witnesses told special counsel about Trump's handling of classified info while still president - April 24, 2024

🤔🤔🤔

[inbarfink]

Okay, so I’ve seen some Ace Attorney Fans speculate that the screwdriver featured as a minor piece of evidence in ‘Rise from the Ashes’

Is actually the same screwdriver as the one that was a major plot-point back in ‘Turnabout Sisters’. 

Because, well, they look pretty much the same and also it is mentioned the screwdriver is from one of Miles’ previous cases… and Miles was the Prosecutor on ‘Turnabout Sisters’. Plus, it would explain why he’s so cagey about explaining it to Phoenix during RFTA. Obviously he wouldn’t want to bring this case up in front of Wright again.

And, well, the thing is that all of these explanations do make sense and do make it sound like this was the authorial intent, but….. There is one thing that bothers me. 

The whole Thing with the RFTA Screwdriver is that Miles got it from the Evidence Room where the crime took place. And that Evidence Room is specifically mentioned to be a special one reserved for especially violent crimes involving members of law enforcement.

And this doesn't apply to the 'Turnabout Sisters' case but.... feels like it’s meant to be the Turnabout Sisters Screwdriver, y’know? 

So, actually, you know what I think?

Well, after an Ace Attorney trial concludes and we find the real culprit and our defendant gets the ‘Not-Guilty’ verdict… it’s not like the Real Culprit gets Immediately Sent to Jail. They get their own off-screen trial to determine their guilt officially (as we saw briefly with Luke Atmey’s grand larceny trial in ‘The Stolen Turnabout’). 

So I think that after the story of ‘Turnabout Sisters’ ended for Phoenix and Maya and us the players, Miles Edgeworth also took it upon himself to be the one to prosecute in Redd White’s own trial. Either as a way to ‘double-check’ all that Phoenix has proven in his own trial, or as atonement for almost getting this guy off-the-hook in the first place, or because it’s pretty clear that Miles is one person that Redd doesn’t have specific dirt on, or probably because of some combination of the three. 

This case against Redd White is the AI-16 Incident that is labeled on the Screwdriver, and it covers all of the charges that have been put against White - not just Mia’s murder and the wiretapping of her law office but also his empire of blackmail. That we know have involved high-ranking members of the police, some of which have been driven to suicide by White.

As such, this will qualify the Screwdriver to be placed in the Special Evidence Vault for Dead Cop Cases, while still maintaining the connection to ‘Turnabout Sisters’!

[a-very-tired-jew]

Another Colleague Conversation

I recently had a conversation with a friend and colleague about stuff they shared regarding the rescue operation of the four hostages. They had posted the tweet from the Deeja account that said in all capital letters that Israel used an aid truck. I reached out because 1) I know this person to be reasonable and evidence based, and 2) I knew they were coming from a place of genuine concern that was being manipulated. For context, this friend is a brilliant geneticist that I have know for nearly 2 decades as we did our undergrad together and have stayed in touch ever since. They're a kindhearted person and their work has led to some breakthroughs that highlight this trait as they've worked on certain types of genes that can have detrimental mutations when expressed. As I've said before, a lot of people are empathetic and sympathetic individuals to the plight of others, and those behaviors are being manipulated for nefarious reasons.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Me: Hey G, that thing you shared about the aid truck? Yeah, that's not the complete story or accurate.

G: What?! What do you mean?

Me: It wasn't an aid truck that they used. In fact, only that tweet and Al Jazeera were reporting that initially. All the other sites, including pro-Israel and anti-Israel, were reporting a civilian truck of some sort. Most said a moving/furniture truck.

G: Wait. Hold on. So it was a moving truck then?

Me: Well...we now know it was a soap truck.

G: Why the fuck are people saying it was an aid truck then?

Me: You know the reason.

G: Yeah...okay, admittedly I am not well informed on all this. Thank you for reaching out and correcting me. Do you have any suggestions on how to stay informed? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ (Now this is where it gets interesting because at this point they say something that I knew was a thing on some level, but hadn't really put the pieces together.)

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

Me: Well, I wouldn't share anything from Al Jazeera. All they do is spout Hamas propaganda. I'd also avoid accounts that share from them as well, unless you're really interested in what the propaganda is itself. I'd avoid JVP since they're the Autism Speaks of Jewish groups. And also avoid SJP groups, many of them openly support terrorist groups and have been recently endorsing domestic terrorism. G: Wait, wait, wait. AJ is bad? I've been following them since we were in undergrad.

Me: Since undergrad?

G: Yeah, they were the only ones covering news in a Lefty manner. Like, remember when Occupy Wallstreet broke out during grad school? They were the one of the few news sites that covered it in a left leaning manner.

Me: Ah fuck...that makes sense. Okay. So. AJ is the state media of Qatar, think of it like RT or Sputnik. Qatar has literally hosted the leaders of Hamas for years and they live there in multi-million dollar homes. AJ pretty much acts as the propaganda mouthpiece for Hamas through Qatar.

G: But what does that have to do with how they covered stuff when we were younger?

Me: Well, there was a meeting in 1993 in Philly of Hamas members that was wiretapped. Those wiretaps were submitted as evidence during some trials in the 00s and they revealed that Hamas had planned at that meeting to use the language of progressive Westerners to garner support for their cause and manipulate them.

G: oh

G: Oh, fuck!

G: So you're saying they purposefully set themselves up to be more sympathetic to Leftists and manipulate them through using their jargon and it's on tape?!

Me: Yep. Here's the link (https://extremism.gwu.edu/sites/g/files/zaxdzs5746/files/2023-10/the-hamas-network-in-america.pdf)

Me: Now there's a lot more to that doc. It goes over how they planned to set up research groups to influence academia, political groups for politics, and charity groups to raise money. The latter of which is what the 00s trials were about.

G: Fuck...that's well planned out. I can't believe it's on tape.

Me: Mhm, it's right there. I'm surprised it's been allowed to go on this long though. I think after all the dust settles we might see some Bush Era Patriot Act shenanigans go on.

G: I wouldn't be surprised.

G: Thank you for reaching out and letting me know. I can't believe I fell for that.

Me: It's totally okay, and understandable. If you have questions about anything please feel free to reach out.

G: Again, thank you so much. I will.

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

What G said about Al Jazeera though and how they'd been following it for years stood out to me. I remember when Occupy Wallstreet happened and AJ was reporting on it. I remember so many American news sites denigrating the movement and AJ was one of the few that was actually covering those protests in an objective manner. We didn't have a lot of the Left news sites that currently exist today. It was a wasteland of center and right wing sources as far as the eye could see. But that makes sense for the time period and why AJ is still so prevalent in Left spaces.

As I told G, the 93 meeting documents Hamas members talking about using the language of Westerners against them and infiltrating their spaces to garner support. With AJ being the mouth piece of Hamas and having been one of the few "Left" leaning news source since Occupy...well, they've been grandfathered in to Leftist spaces as "trusted". That's why so many of these Western activists will accept an AJ article with no question or critical analysis, it's one of the go to sources and has been for a long time.

I'm a little mad at myself that I didn't remember the coverage of Occupy and other events in the USA by AJ and how they were framed until G brought it up. I'm second guessing all the times I read articles back then and my reactions. G admitted they're now doing the same. To think that many of us older Lefties have been manipulated for years because we had some friendly coverage of our opinions is disheartening. But then again, how many of us actually knew what AJ was, who was running it, and what the agenda is/was? I mean, hell, I'm a forensic consultant and consider myself well versed on big cases, but I didn't know about the HLF stuff until Vidino's report came out (the doc mentioned and linked above).

The internet has come such a long way since then. I'm hoping that when this is over that many of these news sites, Leftist and otherwise, will reconsider how they interact with AJ and other such groups. It's quite clear that we've been in a long con, and something has to change.

[cryobabyy]

Cooper Adams x Fem!Reader

PART(3/5)

He was peculiarly clean— too clean to be at a hardware store past midnight. No dirt on his jeans, or janitor's name patch, or construction vest. He smelt like most men— Irish spring, sandalwood, musk, bergamot, etc. In daylight hours, you wouldn't have thought anything about his tight and fawning smile, the gallon of industrial cleaning solution, and the seven yards of vinyl tarp he slides across the counter at the end of the month. He always smiles when he pays. You smile back despite your intuition advising against it. Something about the interaction feels cold. God, you sound like your fucking father.

OR

You work the graveyard shift at a hardware store with extended hours to put you through pre-med. You meet a DILF who is definitely not The Butcher.

AN: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I had a final, saw Trap again (I almost died), and then I kind of re-wrote like half of it lol, but here we are! Enjoy!

The last time you talked about your Father to anyone was when you discussed what his headstone would say with the Funeral home office lady. You hadn’t uttered a word about him since. Not to a therapist, not to a friend, not even your roommate. You used his life insurance policy to hire an estate clean-up company to empty the house, and you watched from the curb as men in hazmat suits brought out pile after pile of newspaper clippings, empty medication bottles, and old electronics. After that, the house was unrecognizable- an empty shell, save for the marks on the door of your childhood bedroom. Thin pencil lines climb toward the frame with your name, date, and height nestled next to each other. You threw the deed to the house and your keys in your car’s glove compartment, but you haven’t been inside since. If it was out of sight, it was out of mind. If you didn’t talk about it, it couldn’t hurt you.

A floodgate was opened that night the truth came flying out of your mouth. You were okay with never speaking about it again, but now you couldn’t stop. It was exhilarating to release even the tiniest fraction of what you had bottled up for two years, and Cooper's validation was intoxicating. It was so different than the suffocating sympathy and condolences from Dad’s neighbors, who watched from their porches as you struggled to talk him out of confronting the mailman about wiretapping his mailbox. You felt the stares in line at the grocery store. You heard the passing whispers about the suicide on Bleaker Ave. This town wouldn’t let you forget that you were tethered to tragedy.

Cooper was the first person to say something other than ‘Poor thing. What a shame’. A random man you barely knew was the first person to afford you the luxury of dignity. You weren’t aware you could be anything other than a victim until Cooper Adams started treating you like a normal person. Against your better judgment, you began to look forward to the smiles, corny jokes, and his tendency to overshare. 

You knew it was weird and wrong to befriend a married man like this. You couldn’t help but think about his wife, how she would feel if she knew her husband was using his lunch breaks to bring you food and ask about your day. The thought of his family used to be a comforting reminder that he wasn’t dangerous, but now it makes your stomach hurt. You tell yourself you aren’t doing anything wrong. It was just an unlikely friendship- nothing more. 

You get butterflies when he comes waltzing in with a muffin and a coffee.

Goddamit.

“Oat milk, three sugars, three creams. And somebody dropped these off for the guys today, so I snagged you one. It’s blueberry. Did you eat dinner today?” He sets down a steaming cup of coffee and a neatly saran-wrapped muffin. You meet his hazel eyes, and he stares back. For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Cooper furrows his brow, a smirk curling his lips.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t like blueberry.”

“You’re weird.” You scoff, unwrapping the confection and taking a bite.

“So you do like blueberry.” He mumbles pensively,  crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

“You know I’m at work, right? Like I’m supposed to be working?” You say through a mouthful of muffin. Cooper glances around the empty store before landing on you.

“Looks like I’m the only paying customer here, kid.” A sly smile spreads across his face, and your heart stutters like the engine of your shitty car. 

And just like that, he lulls you into another conversation. Cooper speaks in a way that makes you forget you’re telling him details about your life you’ve never told anyone before. He knows that you have a roommate you barely speak to and that you moved out when you were twenty. He's aware of how you took care of your Father during those final years and how he secretly stopped taking his medication. He knows about the guilt that consumed you for never noticing, for being too busy trying to build a life outside his chaos. You even told him you sometimes visit the house to check the mail. You'd sit on the curb across the street just to stare and remember when it was just a house and not a landmark for your grief.

“Why don’t you just sell it and use the money to buy your own place? The property value has probably skyrocketed since.” At this point in the conversation, Cooper has a stool pulled up to the counter, brows knitted together in concentration. He’s always asking you questions nobody’s ever cared to ask.

“I don’t know. I guess… If I get rid of it, it feels like I’m getting rid of him. He accused me of that all the time. He was convinced I turned against him.” You shrug, swirling around the last bit of coffee in your cup.

“I get it. My independence was like an insult to my mother. She hated my wife—said that she was taking me away from her. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I told her we were getting married.” He looks off into the distance as if he’s watching the memory unfold in front of him.

You see an opportunity, so you take it.

“How did you two meet?” You say slowly, cautiously testing the waters.

“Me and Rachel? I did a fire safety demo for the kids at the school where she was working. God, that was—what? Fifteen years ago? Things were so different then.” He trails off. There was something different in the timber of his voice—regret? You hold in a breath as he continues.

“A lot changes when you have kids. Years can pass, and you won’t notice how much you’ve grown apart. And then pretty soon, the kids are the only thing you have in common.” He stares for a moment longer before suddenly snapping out of his daze. 

“Sorry, am I oversharing?” He drags a big hand down his tired face, and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, I’m the one with the dead dad, so I think I have you one-upped on that.”

“You got me there.” He chuckles. You’re glad he’s not bothered by your inherent morbidity. It makes you feel normal.

There’s a thick pause. You glance upward to find Cooper staring at you, a strange expression on his face. No one’s ever looked at you like that before, and for a split second, you feel exposed. Like it was his first time really seeing you.

“What?”

“I just hope you know you’ll be okay.” 

You’re gearing up to brush it off with something witty, but Cooper beats you to it.

“No, seriously. You made it to the other side of all this— you made it out. And you’re still good. You didn’t turn it into something worse. You’re incredible—and I mean that. It’s inspiring.”

There’s no charming smile or trace of playfulness in his voice. You feel frozen, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. 

And then his gaze flickers to your mouth and lingers there for a moment too long. You watch him watch you, chest rising and falling, his expression tight. Like he’s holding something back. Your hands tingle with the desire to touch something. You feel the urge to reach out and grab something of his– his hand, the lapels of his jacket, the slope of his neck - and pull him into you. It still wouldn’t be close enough. If you could reach into his chest and hold his beating heart in your palm, you would.

And that terrifies you. 

Cooper clears his throat, swiftly standing from the stool. 

“Well, would you ook at that— lost track of time. I have to head back.” He mumbles, patting his jacket pockets to find his keys. Before you can even respond, he’s striding towards the door.

“Right. See you later, Cooper.” You busy yourself by throwing the empty coffee cup and the remains of the muffin in the trash.

He calls your name, snapping your attention to him again.

“You’ll be okay.” He repeats.

“I know.” 

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

You don’t see Cooper for an entire month after that. The entirety of October passes. You spend nights preparing for your midterm and ringing up PVC pipes, hammers, and plumbing snakes. You debate texting him, going back and forth between writing a paragraph apologizing for potentially crossing a line or a paragraph telling him off for disappearing. Both options never make it out of the notes app.

A definitive emotion hasn’t settled in your mind yet. Anger doesn’t feel justified. Rejection feels too assuming, and dejection hurts your pride. Every fleeting emotion feels blown out of proportion, so you try to feel nothing at all– because anything else would be fucking ridiculous.

Cooper was married. He had children. He had a life. And all you had were the moments of his spare time in between. You had nothing. You didn’t even have a reason to call him– until you did.

On the way home from the night shift, your car battery dies on a dark and empty backroad. Other than your roommate, you have only one other person to call.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you consider what you'll do if he doesn’t answer. Your racing heart makes your thumb shake.

It rings two times before he picks up.

After a month of radio silence, he pulls up in 30 minutes.

Seeing him exit the driver’s side door like nothing had changed is odd. The complicated feelings you’ve been fending off die in an instant and leave you feeling numb. He looked the same; maybe his hair was longer, just long enough for him to push behind his ears. When he walks toward you, you finally begin to feel something again– panic. Inside your mind, you’re frantically flipping through appropriate things to say. I missed you. Where the fuck have you been? Why?

He’s standing in front of you before you can decide.

“You alright?” He asks, his brow furrowed with concern. He looks to your old beat-up car, then to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s been stalling recently. I should have gotten it checked out sooner. Thanks for coming. I hate to bother you like this.” You can’t help but sound embarrassed. You had built this moment up in your imagination to be a staunch confrontation, but reality made you feel dumb. This was a grown man that had grown man shit to do other than play therapist with you. You felt small next to him like this. You regret not calling your roommate first.

“I’m happy to help. It’s cold—why don’t you wait in my car? It’s open.”

You wordlessly hand him your keys, grab your bag, and walk towards his car, leaning against the front hood instead. It was stupid, but the small act of defiance made you feel like you were still in control of the situation and, therefore, your feelings. Cooper takes a long look under the hood of your car before leaning into the driver's side and cranking the keys. The ignition clicks and whines but refuses to start. He sighs, trying a couple more times before shutting your car door and locking it.

“I brought jumping cables, but I don’t think I can do much to get it started. It could be more than your battery so It’s probably best to tow it. You’ll have to call your insurance and tell them to get it covered, but I can do the talking if you- ” 

For a moment, you’re possessed by the most jaded version of yourself. The words tumble from your mouth before you can understand them.

“Where have you been?” 

You regret it immediately.

Cooper sighs, closing his eyes and pushing his hair back. He pauses momentarily, thinking about how he'll handle the situation before returning to meet your gaze.

“I don’t think talking about that here is a good idea.” His tone is gentle but stern. It’s parentish and ignites the anger accumulating in you over the past month.

“That’s fucked up, Cooper. I’ve told you things I haven’t even said out loud, and now you get to decide when it is or isn’t a good idea for us to talk? It’s not fair—” 

“I know.”

“—It wasn’t even my idea! You softened me up! You kept coming back—“

“I know.”

“—You made me think I could trust you! You gave me something, and then you fucking took it away—who fucking does that?!”

He’s saying your name now. You were too worked up to notice that your cheeks were wet or that Cooper’s thumbs were wiping the tears away. You hadn’t cried in a year.

“It was wrong. I was wrong. I thought I could manage, but it was getting too close. What was happening between us, and who I am outside of that can never touch. I’m sorry.”

Your breathing slows. Cooper’s voice sounds distant, the warmth of his hands being the only thing grounding you. He’s so close now; you can see the flecks of green and brown along his iris. Your gaze drops to his mouth, lingering in the same way his eye lingered about a month ago. You can see the words forming around his lips. He repeats himself.

“I’m sorry.”

You feel a familiar urge again– the pull. This time, you almost give in. But something stops you. Cooper resists your pull.

“Don’t. You’ll regret it.” He warns.

You come to your senses, noticing the stinging sensation from the back of your thighs pressing against the hood of his car. It’s not enough to stop you from being at your weakest. 

“Please.” is all you can say. Your hands grip the collar of his sweater. He lets you, his resistance gradually softening until your mouth ghosts over his. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

It all happens so fast, his lips finally covering yours, his hands lifting you by the thighs and setting you down on the hood of his truck, your legs wrapping around him. Everything is brand new and intoxicating. The feeling of his hair between your fingers. Your arms around his neck, the hardness of his body against yours. It doesn’t take much for you to get lost in it. You feel Cooper lift you off the hood and walk around the side of his car. He flings open the passenger door and sets you on the leather seat.

“Tell me to stop.” He says in between the feverish back and forth of your lips, his hands sliding under your sweater to rest on the curve of your stomach. Heat pools between your thighs. You say nothing.

Cooper pulls away, leaving his hand underneath your shirt.

“This is what you want?” He’s looking down at you, hair in his eyes and mouth red and wet. You feel ashamed, but you nod anyway. Cooper’s hand gently pushes against your belly, beckoning you to lie down. Your chest heaves up and down, and your eyes flutter close. Cooper’s hands push up the sides of your waist, bringing your shirt with it. They travel over your ribs, his thumbs brush over your nipples through your thin bra. His warm breath ghosts just under your navel, lips peppering kisses right above your waistband. 

“I’ve been thinking about this. What you would look like under me. You look so pretty.” He smirks against your skin and uses a hand to undo a button on your jeans. Your eyes flutter back open.

The first thing you see is a splatter of dark red on the cloth ceiling of his car. You squint a bit, trying to pull your focus from what was going on below your waist. The little drops glisten in the dim glow of the interior cabin light. It looks wet.

Your blood runs cold. Your Father’s voice returns to you.

White picket fence motherfucker.

AO3

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[kitagenre]

achilles' heel | hoshina x f!reader

synopsis: the vice-captain has always been invisible, the perfect adjective for someone who is in a job where people come and go.

warning: language! (aside from that there's none... i think)

a/n: just very self-indulgent ! i hope my hoshina gurlies will love this 🤞🏼🥰🤍

"What's the situation in Tachikawa?"

"Not good. The amount of Yojus is continuously increasing," Konomi reported, "Shinomiya is helping a ton right now. But, this will be really, really bad if you don't go here immediately, Vice-Captain,"

Out of all the days, he had to go to the headquarters today for the monthly briefing with the general. Out of all the days, he thought in disbelief. He should've taken that unsettling feeling of seeing the squad, and you, smiling at each other this morning before he and Mina went.

"How many more minutes?" Mina asked the officer who was preparing for the special transportation that they would use to go back to Tachikawa base.

"30 minutes, Captain—"

"Make it ten," Sochiro says with finality.

"Vice-Captain Hoshina, that will be impossible to do—" Maybe it's a combination of fear, anxiety, and desperation, but in the blink of an eye, Sochiro grabs the collar of the officer in front of him, "Make it ten."

"Hoshina." Mina calls his name, making him stop. Holding onto Sochiro's shoulder, Mina prompted him to step back from the officer, "Please make it as fast as you can. We cannot waste more time."

"R-Roger!"

"Calm down, Vice-Captain," Mina spoke again, "They will be fine. Our officers are strong."

He knows that. He knows that more than anyone. He trained those officers with his own hands and pushed them every day to their limits. He's the one who guided them from the very beginning. But there's this... fear... that he cannot explain. And he hates himself for that.

Soshiro knows better than anyone that attachments should not be fostered in this line of work. They have a job with no certainty of tomorrow. People come and go all the time. As someone who has been here for the past years, gained and lost comrades in every mission, Soshiro thinks that he'll be smart enough to not fall in love with anyone. But that day... was just different.

When you walked into the exam room and he first saw you on the screen from the operations room, your hair was a little messy but in a pretty way, you were smiling at everyone, and you were so happy to get that 7% combat power for the first time. You were the most gentle in that batch, aside from being the most beautiful, and something about you messed with his brain.

It's like you wore your empathy like a weapon.

The first time he interacted with you alone was after your first mission. Soshiro got injured after saving an officer. He doesn't usually get injured with small-fry Kaijus, besides, he's one of the strongest in the Defense Force, but the timing was off and the only thing he wants is to save that officer. You did the first aid for his bleeding arm and continuously checked on him after that.

Soshiro couldn't explain it. He just woke up one day without the walls he hardly built up and found himself scared of losing you. He found himself secretly pursuing you inside the base. Giving you small gifts like it's a mission. Leaving just because flowers, mostly peonies, whenever he can drop by that flower shop near the Hoshina mansion. Leaving you notes with a smile on his face because the whole dorm is wiretapped. Requesting day-offs that coincide with yours. Soshiro was confused, but he was happy.

He shuts his eyes. How fucking selfish of him to only think of you right now, right?

"Let's go, Hoshina. They are ready."

Reports are continuously done through their earpieces. He can only listen. As long as he can still hear your name in action. Please, you have to hold on. Just until they are back to the base.

"Fortitude 9! A daikaiju just appeared! Shinomiya and ___ are facing it right now!"

Shivers went down his spine, and a wave of anger laced his voice as he shouted, "Tell them to back off! Are they fucking crazy?!"

You are not dumb. You are one of the most improved officers. But Fortitude 9 is just too much for your current stats. Hell, it's even too much for Kikoru right now who is much more advanced than you when it comes to skills.

"Hoshina." Mina calls him again, "Trust our officers."

"But—"

"They are not weaklings," Mina says.

You surely aren't. But he is, he admits in his mind. When it comes to you, he is.

The ride to Tachikawa base is agonizing.

When they reached the base, the fire caused by the raid was already gobbling up the buildings. Immediately, Sochiro went straight to the location of the Daikaiju and found you and Kikoru in an awful situation. You're down and unconscious after colliding with a wall.

Kikoru is still okay, but both of you need to go now.

"Vice-Captain!"

"Get out of here, Shinomiya." He commanded.

Kikoru stood up, wanting to get you out of the situation too, but Soshiro noticed her foot injury, "Get out! Now!"

"Vice-Captain, __ is still—"

"Worry about yourself." He says. It's an order. Kikoru knows.

He is a hypocrite. Because the first thing he did was to get the Kaiju away from where you're lying down as much as possible, "I am definitely going to kill you, disgusting piece of shit."

All his life, Soshiro was undermined. He's not good enough. He's not strong enough. His katana will never make a difference. He won't be able to save other people with it. But he did. He became Vice-Captain. Ashiro trusted him. His officers believe in him. But if he won't be able to save you today, then maybe they are right.

"Do you know who that girl is, you ugly fucker?" Sochiro asked the monster in front of him, "Someone you shouldn't touch because I'll definitely tear you to pieces if you do. Go to fucking hell now."

Kaijus has always angered Sochiro. But, the level of rage he has right now is just different and even Mina was shocked. They gave them no time to attack using big weapons as Sochiro went for the core of the Daikaju on his own.

They seized the Kaiju's body in possession for further studies and potential help that it could give the Defense Force. With blood on his forehead, Sochiro sprinted towards you after the kaiju was down. Pulling you close to his arms. You have a heartbeat, but very very injured. He still sighs in relief. As long as there's a heartbeat, "__," he calls for you faintly.

Broken ribs. A head concussion. Damaged weapons and suit maxed out. You really did your best out there. But you're still not a hero. You will never be. You just did your best because you know that he will come. There's no way he won't.

Thanks to the advanced technology of the Defense Force, your recovery was much faster. The Tachikawa base is under renovation after the huge damage and you were transferred to the care of Division 1 in the meantime, along with Kikoru and the hottest name in the force right now, Kafka Hibino.

Kikoru told you everything that happened. It turned out that Kafka is Kaiju No. 8 and he revealed himself to the force to protect everyone in Tachikawa. Captain Ashiro and Vice-Captain Hoshina thought that the Kaiju was officially down after Hoshina went to you, turns out that the raid is planned out more than the Defense Force expected. You weren't surprised though. You trust your comrades that much.

"Think you can start training tomorrow again?" Captain Narumi asks you.

"Yes, Captain." You feel fine and normal.

"Good," Gen smirked, "I don't give special treatments. Start showing me what you actually got. I am very, very curious."

"Captain," you gathered every courage left to address him.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for asking you but I don't know anyone else here to ask, but is Vice-Captain Hoshina okay?"

Gen's face was painted with astonishment upon hearing your question. You are just wondering... it's not like he needs to answer it. You wrote him a text the moment you got your phone but he never responded. It's also not like he needs to reply, he probably has a lot of things to do after all that damage. But, you're just so worried.

"Do you think I give a fuck about that bowl-cut dude?" Narumi chuckles. Wow, he's really immature, you thought, "If you're asking if he's still alive, unfortunately, yes."

You concluded that you wouldn't get a decent answer from Narumi so you just saluted and went out of his office. When morning came, you were finally out again in the field. But since you're still adjusting, you stick with an exercise routine that you usually do before combat training. And honestly, even if you want to spar with Narumi, you feel like you'll just mess it up.

You can't stop thinking about Sochiro.

But weeks passed after your recovery and you're still waiting to hear from him that you're now pissed. You do not have an excuse anymore and Gen is already forcing you to spar with him. So, you did.

"That's all you got?" Narumi chuckles, pinning you on the ground, "You're overrated."

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed at him as you kicked his stomach to get out of his grip. But Narumi is strong, there's a reason he's the Captain of Division 1.

"Your Vice-Captain praised you so much," he chuckled.

"Your fault, you believed him." You smirked. Just hearing the word Vice-Captain pissed you off, "Let go of me now."

"Don't wanna," Narumi smirks again.

"What? I'm gonna—"

"Captain Narumi," you were cut off by a voice you longed to hear for weeks. Gen's smile went wider at the sight of Sochiro. This son of a bitch. He knows Sochiro is coming and he's doing this to piss him off. You finally kicked him out of you.

"Well, well, how are you, Hoshina?" Narumi's mocking him.

"Good," he answered, "The meeting will start in minutes, Captain Narumi."

"Too bad I'm busy sparring with my officer,"

"I'm sure Officer __ can wait for you." Your eyes darted to Sochiro. His coldness sent shivers down your spine. The frustration and confusion crawled in your system once again. You haven't seen each other for weeks and this is how he treats you? Like who the fuck cares if Narumi's here? Does he want to be a professional gentleman now?

Or... maybe he's just done with you. Maybe the rumors are right. The Vice-Captain is never serious when it comes to his relationships. Now that you're not under his wing, he's already done. Maybe that's it, then?

Narumi doesn't really have a choice so he stood up and went with Sochiro to go to the meeting, leaving you alone in the training room. Just in time for dinner, you went with Kikoru and Kafka.

"Vice-Captain is here, have you seen him?" Kikoru asked. You nodded quietly.

After dinner, you changed to a pair of sleepwear. Don't get it wrong, you love Division 1. But you just really want to go back to Tachikawa.

Unable to sleep, you stayed looking at the window from your room. You're in the same position when the raid happened. You remembered thinking about what's really between you and Sochiro. Maybe you got the answer you want now.

"How are you?" You almost jumped out of shock as you hear his voice. Sochiro stands beside the door, "The door is unlocked. I'm sorry."

You looked away from him— tearing up. Wow, he's here, but does that make up for the days he ghosted you? This asshole. Maybe Narumi should really punch him in the gut.

"If Narumi is forcing you to train, tell me—"

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry, baby,"

Oh, how you hate this man. He knows exactly what to do. He knows exactly how to get you over and over again.

"I hate you so much," you looked at him.

To you, Sochiro is like the stars. Before entering the Defense Force, everyone admired Mina Ashiro. But you were different. You admired the Vice-Captain who is mostly not seen. He saved you once when you were a civilian. He saved you over and over again when you were a cadet, and he still continued to save you when you became an officer.

"Not a single response to my messages? Not a single letter? Do you know how worried I am? Do you know how much I thought that you're blaming yourself for what happened when that's not—" In the blink of an eye, Sochiro envelopes your small figure to his arms.

"I'm sorry,"

"If you're done with me, you can just tell me." You removed yourself from his embrace.

"Done with you?"

"Isn't that the reason why, Vice-Captain Hoshina?" You asked him, "You're probably—"

"You scared the fuck out of me that I got scared even more because I never felt that way before. I was terrified, that I have to take a step back," He spoke, "Tell me why would you face a Daikaiju like that? You have nothing to lose? You're not scared?"

"I am an officer of the Defense Force, Vice-Captain. That is my duty—"

"Fuck that." He hissed, "What about me?"

"What about you?" You asked in confusion. Sochiro is never the type to curse his duty. He loves his job. He fought for this job.

"I can't lose you."

"Sochiro..."

"For years, I fought for the Defense Force thinking I have nothing to lose. Death never scared me. But when I saw you lying down, unconscious, I feel like being punched in the gut a million times, __." Seeing him lose his composure is new to you, "This is so wrong because I have a duty to fulfill and so are you and it's unfair for the Defense Force that we took an oath for, but I just can't... lose you..."

"Sochiro..." you held his face, "You won't lose me just because of that. I am not weak."

"I know." He gave you a weak smile, "But I am... when it comes to you. You're my Achilles' heel."

The great Vice-Captain Sochiro Hoshina is confessing that you make his knees tremble in fear, something not even the biggest Kaiju can do. He envelopes you in his warmth and places a soft kiss on your forehead, "I love you too damn much."

[bugs1nmybrain]

sleeping beauty - L Lawliet x Fem!Reader Voyeur + Somnophilia Smut 🩵💤

Writer's Notes: Well. Yea

Word Count: 2839

18+ Minors Do Not Interact!

Warnings: Cringe title cuz I couldn't think of anything more clever, smut, female reader (she/her pronouns), voyeurism, masturbation (L), somnophilia, dub-con, dom L, ooc L?, L uses "my love" and "darling" and "lovely" (new one!) as pet names, unreciprocated kissing, PRAISE, established relationship, unprotected sex, not proofread yet

Dub-con explanation to avoid triggering: L watches reader sleep on surveillance cameras and jacks off to her, L touches and penetrates the reader in her sleep/while she is sleepy. She's not scared or feels violated, she knows it's L and wants him, but the lack of alertness and being drowsy makes the consent dubious.

L was bored.

There really wasn't much happening in his current case, at least not at the present moment. There were many things to do but with it being sleeping hours for the countries he was in contact with, getting any of his plans into fruition was going to have to wait until the morning. After all, it was 2 a.m. The only thing L could do was research. He had been keeping his alerts on all night, impending a new lead, but nothing turned up yet. He had been waiting for several hours. Still nothing.

So he sat at his monitors with a blueberry yogurt. He played with his food, swishing the spoon in and out of the yogurt for many seconds before finally taking a bite. He was getting tired of this boredom; it was killing him.

With nothing better to do, he figured it would be a good idea to check on you. He flicked around his computer screen and opened the tab to the camera in your room. You were often invited to L's room when you wanted, even if he didn't join you for bed. You chose your room tonight though.

When L saw your sleeping form, a strange calmness washed over him. What was it that caused this reaction he pondered? Was it as simple as that he loved you? Or maybe it was knowing that you were safe and secure under his supervision. You were lying there with only a snug tank top and panties, a poor excuse for pajamas L thought. It was easy to see how the shirt hugged your breasts and tummy even from the distance the camera was from you. And your panties were cute, frilly white and pink. The ones he bought for you.

He watched as you snuggled your pillow tight. You seemed lonely. Did you miss him? The thought of you craving his embrace and presence caused a peak of possessiveness in L. Or was it arousal? It was likely both, but L was more so distracted by the way you nuzzled your face in the pillow and grinded your groin on it, with your thighs wrapping around it. Oh, how cute you were.

You looked gorgeous. You always did, but you looked especially alluring tonight. So peaceful. He was grateful that he had more than one camera installed because he could see your drifting form from many angles like this.

L sat there and ate his yogurt while he watched you shamelessly. Your continued grinding and snuggling into the pillow was endearing, but then you let out that noise. Yes, he had wiretaps in there as well. You knew about the cameras and bugs; it was an agreed-upon condition.

L turned the volume down quicker than the speed of lightning to avoid anyone in the other rooms hearing his speakers, and just as quickly grabbed his headphones so that he could hear you much more clearly. Now he had full access to your voice. He was disappointed, though, because you weren't making any more sounds.

You turned to lay on your back, which was odd. L knew you didn't typically sleep that way, but he chalked it up to random occurrence. Though, the way your tits were shaping out into your tank top made him almost want to believe that you were doing this on purpose. Your shirt was raised over your stomach from ruffling around, showing the lower area of your stomach.

Uh-oh

L's attention averted only a little when he realized that his pants were becoming a bit tighter in the crotch. He looked down for a second to see his bulge in his pants. Instinctively, his thumb met his lip, but his gaze went back on you. You were now turned on your side, your round ass facing the camera. Fuck.

Without much thinking about it, L began to unbutton his pants. His cock wasn't fully erect yet, but it was starting to pulse, and was begging for some external stimulation. He pulled his slender, pale dick out from his underwear and stroked the entire length as he watched you in your slumber.

Yes! The noises came back. You whined and mewled in your sleep, hips squirming. L had a good hunch you were having a rather impure dream, which worked well for him. Your sounds were so beautiful. You were being so good for him.

His cock quickly grew to its full length as he stroked it in a timely rhythm. He played with himself as he watched you return to cuddling the pillow, and paid attention to your ass and crotch riving against it. Fuck.

It wasn't enough. You looked beautiful and he loved it. He loved you and seeing you like this. However, simply watching you toss and turn wasn't going to satisfy him. He needed to see you in person, to touch you, to fuck you.

L tucked his cock back in his jeans, though it still created a bulge from his erection. Why did you have to be many flights up the stairs? So inconvenient for him right now. He stood up, hunched as always, and made his way to the elevator. He waited impatiently as the elevator transported him up to your floor, yet when it reached it, he took his time walking toward your door.

L slowly turned the doorknob, making as little noise as humanly possible. When he shut the door, he turned his face to look at you. The sight of you made his heart leap in spike and his cock ache in agony. He stepped very slowly toward your bed, raising his head to see the entirety of your body. The curve between your waist and your hips was lovely and your skin looked glowing under the light of the moon from the window. He wanted to touch you instantly, but he held out for a moment.

He decided to just watch for a moment, but you weren't as antsy as you were before. Perhaps your dirty dream had been over by now. Just seeing you sleep, though, was enough to provide L with all the love hormones he needed. The rise and fall of your peaceful breath was soothing, and you even produced little sleepy sounds that didn't exactly snore, but they were cute regardless.

It was time to take action, he reasoned. L quietly made his way to prop himself beside you on the bed, and began running his delicate hands along your waist.

"Hmm.."

Your response made his cock twitch violently. Just from brief contact, you reacted beautifully to him. He raised his hand to stroke your messy hair out of your face. Your sleeping face was so adorable.

Impulse struck L and he acted on instinct. His face descended down to yours. He planted a very gentle kiss on your lips, relishing in their soft texture. Of course, you didn't kiss him back. Your lips curved into a lovely smile, but your eyes didn't open. Interesting, L thought. You have been exerting yourself in your responsibilities lately, so you were absolutely dozed off.

L made a bold move and gently moved your form from its side position to lie on your back. Your body instinctively tried to snuggle back into the fetal position, but L took your hands in his, circling your palm with his thumb. As he lied your hands down at your side, he trailed his hands up your thighs, relishing in their softness.

He knew that maybe this wasn't morally correct. You were asleep. But you responded so invitingly to his touch. You were so pretty like this. L lightly grazed his fingers along your panties and felt a dampness. He knew it! You must've been having a wet dream and were aroused yourself, though unconscious.

L stopped for a moment, calculating his next step. He didn't want to exactly fuck you while you had no knowledge of it. ..Or? Well, in more specific terms, he didn't want to hurt you, quite the contrary. Maybe it would make your dreams more pleasant. Would it make you sleep better? He didn't want to scare you though, and somnophilia wasn't something you two had really talked about before.

Conceding from his moral inhibitions, L trailed his fingers up your arms, hooking them around your spaghetti straps. He paused for a moment to observe your breathing, still heavy from sleeping. He begins to drag the straps down your arms, taking your top along with them. When the skin-tight fabric was removed from your breasts, L insisted that he could feel his heart pumping through his cock. You were always so pretty, so gorgeous, and all for him.

Your tits were so pretty and your nipples seemed flushed. Was it from your arousal?, L pondered. He slowly latched his lips on one of your nipples, tending to it gently before releasing and going to the other. Your body reacts to the stimulation and your hips drive forward while you give out a pleasured moan. L moves his head back quickly, startled by your reaction.

However, instead of being scared out of his next move, L recognizes that perhaps he could make you feel just as safe and cared about even while you were asleep like this. You shouldn't have to fear him, right? L takes the risk and begins trailing kisses along your chest and up your neck. He actually hoped it would wake you up, even for just a moment, so he could get some clearance from you. As if he hadn't already been kissing you unconsciously, undressing you, and sucking your tits.

With a heavy breath and a groan, you begin stretching your arms upwards. Your eyes open only slightly, and you're hit with confusion at first. Your vision was very blurry, and you could only make out blobs of color and shape. After halfway registering the texture of the lips that were kissing you and how their hair felt against your skin, your tension eased. You could tell it was only your lover by the way he was touching and kissing you; gentle, meticulous, and romantic.

"Mmmrr.." is all you could manage to say. You were very tired and groggy and could feel yourself already falling back to sleep. "..L?"

"What is it, my love?"

"I'm wet."

"I already know that. Do you need me to help you?"

"I'm.." you begin drifting but fight it. "I'm very..tired...but I..."

"Shhh...I know, lovely. I'll take care of you, alright? You just relax and look pretty for me, hm?"

You giggle sleepily and relax your head back as L continued to kiss your neck, "Mm..ye..yes..please.."

"Mm..of course, darling..."

L kissed your cheek tenderly, and then to your lips. You did what you could to kiss back, though it was very sloppy because of your drowsiness. You felt your pussy grow wetter as L stroked the side of your face while he kissed you, but soon his hand moved away from your face and down to a more intimate area.

Slowly, he removed your panties from your body. His brows (that weren't there) furrowed in arousal when he witnessed the slick fluid that strung out from the panties as he took them off your pussy. So wet already, and if that wasn't enough for him to tell, the clear, slick substance that glowed on your panties definitely was. "Silly girl, you're not supposed to sleep with underwear on", he thought.

L's fingers met your pussy, stroking up from your labia up to your achingly sensitive clitoris. Your juices were already coating his fingers. L firmly began to rub two pads of his fingers on your clitoris, wasting no time to circle around in perfect motion. Your body was already completely submitting to his touch. Your hips bucked against his hand, and thank god L knew how to adapt to your sudden movements because he kept fingering your clitoris as you squirmed for him. It felt so incredible with your body feeling intoxicated by all those feel-good emotions he was producing from you. As great as his fingers felt physically, the knowledge of his care and love for you without expecting anything in return made you infinitely more aroused.

Your clit was starting to feel the rolling sensation you were familiar with. "Already?" L snickered in his head. He couldn't feel what you were, but he noticed how your pussy was contracting and moving on his fingers. He knew these movements of the onset of your submission to pleasure.

"There we go..."

"Mmm!" The feeling was almost unbearable. Somehow being halfway asleep made this pleasure better. Perhaps it was the lack of autonomy over yourself in this moment? L kept rolling his fingers along your clit and you felt your orgasm on the verge of exploding.

"A-a-ah!"

"That's it. Don't hold back.." L cooed at you for comfort, though you weren't registering anything he said; they only sounded muffled.

Your clitoris erupts in pleasure and you begin thrusting your hips as your orgasm overtook you. L made sure to stimulate your clitoris for every moment of your orgasm, and you made the prettiest noises for him while he did so.

"Awhhhh~ hmm.."

"You're doing so well for me, lovely. Could I maybe feel how wet and warm you are for me? Would that be ok?"

"So wordy", you thought in your drowsy mind. You hummed in approval for him, much to his delight. L had been wanting to feel you for so long, but he had to make sure you were taken care of, too. Besides, you feel the best when you're properly ready for him.

L took off his pants and underwear, both attached as he did so. His cock was painfully hard and he winced when his fingers grazed it. He himself wasn't immune to overwhelming sensitivity. He adjusted into a position where he could see you as you moved to his thrusts, though it was still very much a branch of missionary.

He pulled your thighs closer and lifted your legs to wrap around him. He placed the tip of his cock before your vagina without inserting it and already felt the heat of your pussy at the touch. Finally, he pushed his cock inside of you, already sighing from only halfway in. L slowly began penetrating you in and out, rolling his hips to meet your G-spot inside.

((fun fact: the g-spot isn't an individual gland or part of the anatomy, it's actually an extension of the clitoris! I'm using the term "g-spot" for easier comprehension because I'm not teaching a sex education class; this is smut))

His long cock rubbed your sensitive sleeve so perfectly, and you somehow produce even sexier sounds than you did when he was focusing on you alone.

"Aawhh~"

"Mmm...you feel so incredible.."

His thrusts were deep and gentle. Not slow, per se, but calculated. It was as if he was trying to savor your pussy, which was true. His penis made slick sounds when it would enter and exited your wet, slobbery cunt. His dick and hands were the only sensations you could process right now, and they felt so good.

"Ah..L.."

"You're doing so good, baby."

L couldn't help his male instincts as his cock grew hungrier by the visual sensations in front of him. The way your lips parted slightly and how your tits would move to his thrusts made him leak. His thrusts become more eager and less restrained, desperate.

"Ah...you're such a pretty girl..so perfect..."

You whined adorably, making him begin to feel his own orgasm approaching. He holds your waist firmly to be able to control his thrusts better, pumping you full as you squealed for him.

"F-*sigh*-fuck. Y/N...I'm so close.."

His hips bucked against you as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. His cock throbbed inside of you for a few split seconds as he finally came inside of you, his own body losing its rigidity as he slumped forward. He rested his forehead on yours, panting with you in unison. You looked like you were on the verge of passing out. He almost felt bad, but he could tell by your pleasant face and relaxation that you enjoyed him making love to you, even if you weren't properly engaged for it.

He pulled out of you, needing to shake the extra seminal residue off of himself before he rested next to you. Messes like this typically bother L's need for cleanliness, but you were exhausted and he was sort of as well. So instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pulled you in to snuggle him. He hadn't slept for many days, he thought that maybe he could afford some slumber with you. He slept the soundest when you were with him, after all.

But as he started drifting off, he contemplated how the situation before would have been if the roles were reversed...

Requested tag: @graceful-disaster

[tired-xyra-urstruly]

𓆩⟡𓆪𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎!?𓆩⟡𓆪

Yan!Reader x Yan!Dazai

One-Shot Fiction

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────

Summary: You had a dream he was cheating on you! But was it true?

Dazai, he is a former port mafia executive. Dazai, he is a current armed detective agency member. Dazai who hates pain, hates dogs, and especially hates his former partner in the mafia, Chuuya Nakahara. Dazai, who likes crabs, likes the idea of suicide, and likes alcohol. Dazai who was your boyfriend. Yours only. He was the only thing on your mind. Every single corner, every single thought, anything, would be connected to him someway and somehow.

✧. ┊Want to continue?

Dazai, he is a former port mafia executive. Dazai, he is a current armed detective agency member. Dazai who hates pain, hates dogs, and especially hates his former partner in the mafia, Chuuya Nakahara. Dazai, who likes crabs, likes the idea of suicide, and likes alcohol. Dazai who was your boyfriend. Yours only. He was the only thing on your mind. Every single corner, every single thought, anything, would be connected to him someway and somehow.

Ever since the day you both first met, you knew he was the one for you. You wanted him. No. You NEEDED him. So, you started collecting his belongings, it started with a document he just tossed away, then strands of his hair, chewed gum, and anything else you could get your hands on. You hid a wiretap on his clothes once, he found it cute and amusing because he hid a wiretap on you too. Did you know he hid one on you? No.

It's currently 10 in the evening, stars sparkled outside in the ink dark sky. You, as per usual, are on your bed chatting with your boyfriend through *insert any social media app*. It got your heart pounding faster and faster whenever he replied within seconds to your message. Notification after notification, you couldn't get your eyes off the screen. On the other side of the screen was Dazai, watching you through a camera he hid in your house. Pictures of you were plastered all over his room walls, and aside from that. Mostly nothing else could be found.

Your eyelids started to get heavy, you couldn't fight the feeling of drowsiness coming over you. Before you could pass out you decided to send one last message to Dazai. "I love you, Dazai. I love you so much that I want stab any woman who would try to talk to you." How endearing, this is why he loved you.

"I love you so much that I want to destroy any man who lays eyes on you." Was the last thing you read before dozing off.

"Impossible! I was taking pictures of you through your window!!!" He passed you his phone which was generosly unlocked for you. Quickly, you found the contacts app. You were the only one in his contacts. Good. That means he prioritized you over work. Next, you opened his gallery. It was you. You were the only thing in his gallery, and he wasn't lying. You scrolled through the pictures of you that he took through your window last night with a look of satisfaction. "That's actually... So sweet!!" You hugged him tightly clasping your arms around him full of affection and he did the same too. The other members of the Agency, who have been watching the whole thing were... Weirded out to say the least...

The doors of the Armed Detective Agency slammed to reveal a very furious and irritated figure, which was you. The Agency wasn't really surprised to see that you were the one at the door, you always did just to see Dazai. Your grip tightened around the knife in your hand as you advanced towards Dazais table. You drove the sharp object into the wood of the table forcibly which gained his attention. Dazai glances at the knife and then at you. "Oh, hey [Name]... What's wrong?" He asks.

"... I had a dream where you were cheating on me. Explain." You looked him dead in the eye.

"Whaaatttt?"

"Explain." You repeated. How could he? Especially in your dreams.

END