#N�� Sensae

[lightwing-s]

nightwing teasing y/n with his Escrima sticks (erotic electrostimulation) before he slides himself in... please and thank you

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

Dick had you tied up on his bed. Spread wide open. Wrists and ankles hooked to different ends of the furniture, forbidding you from moving even an inch. Of touching anything that wasn’t him or his dick through the walls of every single hole you owned. He’d been in all of them tonight. 

You were a bliss of sweat and overstimulation. A pool of your mixed juices already soaking the bed sheet underneath you. But your boyfriend had a vigilante’s stamina, and even though he’d made you cum more than four times tonight, and he himself must have had just as many orgasms as you, he wasn’t even close to finishing off with you. Ooh, he could last the whole night.

Feeling his cold hands sliding through the valley of your tits, you squirmed once he grabbed at one of them tightly. His nails dig on the sensitive skin, leaving red crescent moons as another piece of decoration on your chest, joining the purple and red stains and the bite marks he had left earlier to create a beautiful and sinful body of art. 

Your eyes pooled with water, and you extended your neck to catch a sight of his tall frame on top of yours. His hard-on slammed on your cheek, right beside your mouth, and you just had to turn your head, the only part of your body you still could move, to catch it between your lips. You sucked on the tip, the taste of his precum and your highs, all together, hitting your tongue. Abruptly, he thrusted his hip, sinking his cock deep in your throat, and you left out a muffled cry. A tear falling down your face.

Dick let out a chuckle. Dark and pretentious. “Can’t leave a hole unattended for too long. Right, my little slut?” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. His cock still filling your mouth, making your jaw hurt from being open wide for too long. 

The sweet gesture of his thumb caressing your cheek had you fooled. Thinking he was done being rough. But, he just diverted your attention away from the long stick he had in his hand. You only realized what he was doing when a strong jolt of electricity swept through your entire body from your core, making your back arch up from the sudden sensation. You almost let out a scream, if it wasn’t for your full mouth.

“Quiet. Quiet, little one,” he cooed, stroking your cheeks with his knuckles.

You felt the stick resting on top of your clit again, just the pressure Dick was putting in making you water. Your heart beat faster in anticipation of the sensation about to come, but your boyfriend liked to play. He knew you were expecting it at any minute now, so he wouldn’t give it to you then, instead, pulling it in and out of you with swift moves. 

You cried out in pleasure, your moans stimulating Dick’s cock and making him cum inside your mouth. His seed spilling out of the corners of your lips. When he finally slipped his cock out of your sweet little mouth, another strong burst of energy hit your clit and this time you let out a loud scream. Dick laughed at you again, enjoying every single one of your squirms, cries and pleas for him to stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not yet.

Suddenly, you felt his presence leave your side, and instead of finding time to pull yourself together, you worried about what he was about to do to you. The room was silent, and you had your eyes slammed shut, too weak to even open it. You felt your last orgasm sliding out of your folds, pooling under your ass. Without any warning, his cock ripped you apart, following along with one and another jolt of energy from his escrima stick.

With his free hand, he pressed his fingers on your waist, trying to keep your hips down. “Quiet,” he devilishly laughed. But your body jumped with each thrust and each jolt he continued to send through your body. Soon, he had you cumming once and twice, to the point your body was so weak it wasn’t responding anymore to the sensations he had been giving you.

Unresponsive, you laid in bed trying to catch your breath, while your boyfriend reached his high once more within your walls with a loud grunt.

“You’re so good to me, my little slut,” he complimented, leaving a trail of kisses from your oversensitive clit, all the way up to your lips. “So. Fucking. Good.” He gave you a kiss, tongue sliding in as you felt the ropes getting loose. He had you untrapped, and immediately your arms and legs wrapped up around his neck and waist. He laughed again, the vibrations reverberating through your body. Pulling away from the kiss, exhausted and sore, you felt his lips on your cheeks, your tear soaked eyes, and your sweaty forehead.

Your breathing started to steady, as his lips now lingered just below your ears. Eyes still closed, you were ready to fall asleep, tangled on his body for warmth, and he continued his caresses all over your skin.

“No, no, no, baby,” he whispered sensually in your ear. “We’re not done yet.” You groaned, and felt his smile speaking against your neck. “We still have a long night ahead.”

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 14/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, teasing, Language, age gap

Word Count: 7612

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and despite the overwhelming sensations you had just experienced, your desire for him only grew.

“I need to be inside you”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Jensen knew exactly what his words did to you, and he relished the effect he had on you. With a teasing grin, he sat back, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned body.

He stood up from the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Each piece of clothing he removed revealed more of his perfect physique, leaving you in awe of his raw masculinity. His movements were slow and deliberate, giving you ample time to admire every inch of him.

Jensen stepped back towards the bed, his erection standing proud and commanding your attention. The sight of him, so raw and powerful, sent another surge of desire through you. But as your eyes traveled down his body, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of intimidation. You remembered how intense it had been the last time, how Jensen had stretched you out until it hurt in the most delicious way.

Sensing your hesitation, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that was filled with both reassurance and hunger. “I’ve got you”, he murmured against your lips.

With a gentle but insistent grip, he spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. He took a moment to caress your thighs, his touch sending shivers up your spine. “Ready?”, he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of passion and concern.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, excited gasps.

He grabbed his dick by its base, the heat of it juxtaposed against the slickness of your folds as he let it slip through them a few times, teasing and preparing you. Each pass made you shiver, the anticipation building with each tantalizing touch.

Then, with deliberate care, he lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours as he started to inch forward. The initial pressure made you gasp, but the sensation was intoxicating. However, as the pleasure took control, Jensen lost himself in the moment and sank inside you with one deep, powerful thrust.

You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders as he filled you completely. The sudden stretch was intense, but the way he fit inside you felt perfect. Jensen groaned loudly, the sound filled with raw pleasure as he felt your tightness envelop him.

“You’re so tight", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Feels incredible”.

The fullness and pressure sent waves of sensation through your body, making you arch against him, seeking more. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jensen started to move, his thrusts instantly setting a rougher pace. Each powerful, deep stroke made your pelvis rock against his, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with unerring precision. The intensity of the sensation made your head spin.

“You feel so good”, he groaned, his voice rough with desire. “So fucking tight around me. You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”.

Your stomach churned at his words, making you even wetter. Your hands clutched his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation. This was the first time Jensen had gone rougher with you, and the intensity was almost more than you could handle.

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, you instinctively closed your eyes, trying to manage the onslaught of sensations. But Jensen wasn’t having it. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep your eyes open, sweetheart”, he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

To emphasize his point, he thrust into you hard and deep, the force of it almost painful but overwhelmingly intense. Your eyes flew open, locking onto his as the pleasure and slight pain mingled into something even more powerful.

“That’s it”, he growled, his eyes burning with desire. “I want to see you when you come. I want to see everything”.

The way he looked at you, so possessive and hungry, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your body. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

You moaned his name, your voice raw with need. “Jensen… please��”.

“Please what?”, he asked, his thrusts never faltering. “Tell me what you want”.

“I want to come”, you begged, your body trembling. “I need it”.

Jensen’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Then come for me”, he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Come for me, right now”.

His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, sent you spiraling into another orgasm. Your body convulsed around him, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Without giving you a moment to catch your breath, Jensen pulled out of you, his movements swift and determined. He turned you onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising grasp as he pulled you up onto your knees. The sudden shift made you whimper, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through you.

“Stay right there”, he commanded, his voice husky with arousal. His hands slid up your back, caressing your skin before returning to your hips, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

You felt his hard length pressing against you again, the heat and urgency of his need almost overwhelming. Jensen didn’t waste any time, thrusting back into you with a force that made you cry out. The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, each powerful stroke hitting deep inside you.

Jensen’s pace was relentless, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you over and over.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing with desire. Then, with a firm but gentle grip, he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head up, testing your reaction. The initial pull was gentle, a tentative check to see if you enjoyed it. You responded with a breathless moan, the sensation heightening your arousal.

Taking your reaction as encouragement, Jensen tightened his grip, pulling your head back further. The mix of pleasure and the slight edge of pain made you gasp, your body arching into the sensation. “I knew you weren’t that innocent”, he groaned teasingly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your arousal intensify. Jensen’s grip on your hair was firm, the control he had over you pushing you closer to the edge. His other hand moved to your waist, holding you steady as he resumed his powerful thrusts.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You like it when I take control”.

“Yes”, you moaned, your voice barely audible as the pleasure overwhelmed you. “I love it”.

Jensen’s grip tightened even more, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, each stroke hitting your most sensitive spots. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensation.

“Good girl”, Jensen whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Jensen’s hips slapped against yours with each powerful thrust, the sound mingling with your moans and the wetness between your thighs. By now, you were just a moaning mess, your body completely at his mercy. Your pussy ached from the intensity, your head spinning with the overwhelming sensations. The only thing you could think about was his thick cock splitting you in half with each deep, hard thrust.

Jensen knew exactly what he was doing, each movement calculated to hit the perfect spots inside you. His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you back against him, his chest pressing against your back.

Your only response was a series of breathless moans and gasps, your body arching back into him, desperate for more of the intense pleasure he was giving you. Jensen’s free hand moved from your waist to your clit, his fingers expertly rubbing and adding another layer of sensation that made you cry out.

You gasped, your breath coming in ragged, desperate bursts. “I can’t… I can’t anymore”, you whimpered, the intensity overwhelming you. But Jensen could feel how close you were, your body clenching around him with every thrust.

“Yes, you can”, he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I know you can. You’re so close, baby. Just a little more”.

His words spurred you on, your body responding to his command even as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of what you could handle. Jensen’s fingers on your clit moved faster, his thrusts growing even more powerful as he drove you towards another orgasm.

“Come for me”, he urged, his voice filled with raw desire. “I want to feel you come again. I want to feel you squeeze me so tight”.

The combination of his words and the relentless pleasure he was giving you pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed as you came hard, your climax crashing over you with an intensity that left you shaking. You cried out his name, the sound filling the room as your body tightened around him.

Jensen’s restraint was evident in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath hitched.

Your body went numb, your ears ringing and your breath burning. Jensen held you close to his chest, preventing you from collapsing forward.

“You did so well, baby”, he murmured breathless. Jensen’s hands roamed gently over your stomach, caressing your skin as you shivered in his arms. “Just breathe”, he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ve got you”.

Gradually, your breathing steadied, the ringing in your ears subsiding. You felt the strength return to your limbs, though your body still tingled from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Jensen kissed your shoulder blades, his lips leaving a trail of warmth across your skin. One of his arms was wrapped securely around you, his hand cupping your left breast, squeezing it softly. The gentle pressure sent another shiver of pleasure through your already sensitized body.

“Okay?”, he asked raspily after a while, his voice filled with both concern and desire.

You nodded weakly, your hands gripping his arm around your waist, trying to steady yourself. Jensen gave you a few more moments, his touch gentle and soothing, before he carefully pulled out. He sat back against the headboard of the bed, giving himself a few pumps as he looked at you expectantly.

Realization dawned on you, and you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. You had never been on top before, and the thought of taking control in such an intimate way made your heart race. Jensen must have sensed your hesitation because his expression softened, his eyes filled with reassurance.

“It’s okay”, he murmured. “We’ll go at your pace. There’s no rush”.

His words calmed you a bit, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You moved slowly, straddling his hips and feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against you. Jensen’s hands rested on your thighs, offering support and encouragement.

You bit your lip nervously as you gently took Jensen’s length in your hand, feeling its warmth and solidity against your palm. In your grasp, it looked larger than it did in his own, adding to your sense of anticipation and nervousness. Jensen watched you closely, his gaze fixed on your face, studying every little movement and expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, you whispered, voicing your concern as you shifted slightly.

Jensen chuckled softly, a hint of cockiness in his demeanor as he gripped your hipbones firmly, his touch both reassuring and possessive. “Trust me, baby”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with confidence. “You won’t hurt me. Just relax and let go”.

His words eased some of your tension, and you nodded, drawing another deep breath to steady yourself. Slowly, you positioned yourself over him again, guiding him to your entrance. With a mixture of nervousness and determination, you began to lower yourself onto him, taking him in inch by inch.

Jensen groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as his grip on your hips loosened slightly. The sound of his pleasure sent a thrill through you, bolstering your confidence. You paused for a moment, savoring the sensation of him filling you partially, still not completely lowered.

The anticipation built within you, a mix of nerves and desire driving you forward. You took another deep breath and continued to lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch as you took him deeper. Jensen’s breathing grew heavier, his hands caressing your thighs in encouragement.

“That’s it”, he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. “Take your time. You’re doing so well”.

You bit your lip again, focusing on the sensations coursing through your body. Inch by inch, you descended further, until finally, you were fully seated on him. The feeling of fullness was intense, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure that made you gasp.

You swallowed hard at the new angle, the intensity of the sensation leaving you momentarily afraid to move. Jensen’s eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and reassurance. He reached up, gently pulling your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, sliding it off your shoulders and letting it fall away.

His hands moved to your breasts, cupping them gently and rolling your nipples between his fingers. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp.

You started to move your hips slowly and carefully, the sensation of Jensen inside you intensifying with each subtle movement. Jensen’s breath hitched, the strain of restraint evident in the way his veins stood out on his neck.

His hands continued to explore your breasts, his touch both tender and possessive. He gently squeezed and kneaded, his thumbs brushing lightly over your sensitive nipples, eliciting soft moans from your lips. The combination of his touch and the slow, deliberate rocking of your hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

You adjusted your movements, experimenting with angles and rhythms, seeking the perfect balance of pleasure for both of you.

Jensen raised a brow, watching you with a mixture of tenderness and amusement as you bit your lip in concentration, still trying to find the right rhythm and angle. Despite your efforts, your lack of experience and the fatigue in your knees from previous orgasms made it challenging to maintain the smoothness you desired.

“You’re not often on top, are you?”, he grinned, his voice tinged with playful affection.

Your eyes met his instantly, and you felt a wave of insecurity and a touch of shame wash over you. You tried to overplay it, giving him a small, forced smile. “Is it that obvious?”, you replied, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Jensen licked his lips, the sight of your vulnerability and willingness to learn clearly turning him on. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and affection. “It’s a bit obvious”, he admitted with a playful grin, “but I think it’s incredibly sexy”.

Your forced smile softened, turning more genuine as you absorbed his reassurance. “Let me help you”, he whispered.

His large hands moved to your hips, adjusting your position with a gentle but firm touch. He bent you slightly forward, the new angle immediately changing the sensation. Your breath hitched as you felt the head of his length brush against your G-spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh”, you gasped, your eyes widening at the intensity of the new sensation. Jensen’s hands held you steady, guiding your movements with a tender but confident touch.

“Just like that”, he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “You feel that? That’s your sweet spot”.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you adjusted to the new angle. Slowly, you began to move again, this time more sure of yourself as Jensen’s guidance helped you find a rhythm that felt incredible. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure radiating from your core, building a delicious tension within you.

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, his own breath becoming more ragged as he watched you take control. “You’re doing amazing, baby”, he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. “Keep going. Just like that”.

You moaned in response, the pleasure building within you almost overwhelming. “It feels so good”, you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you rode the waves of sensation.

“Look at me”, Jensen murmured.

You opened your eyes, locking gazes with him. The intensity in his eyes, a mix of raw desire and deep affection, sent another shiver down your spine.

“Let me show you something”, Jensen murmured, his voice filled with promise. He shifted slightly beneath you, his hands steadying your hips as he helped. “Move just like this”.

Following his lead, you rocked your hips in the way he demonstrated, feeling the sensation change immediately. It was deeper, more intense, and you could tell by Jensen’s reaction that it was hitting the right spot for him too.

“Yes, that’s it”, he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment in sheer pleasure before reopening to lock onto yours.

Jensen had been with women who knew exactly what they were doing, women who moved with practiced precision and confidence. But there was something incredibly arousing about your hesitation, your innocence, your struggle to keep up with his size. It was your genuine effort and eagerness to please him that turned him on more than anything else.

Your palms flattened against Jensen’s shoulders, your lip constantly between your teeth as you moved your hips against him. The sensation of your tightness around him was almost too much for Jensen, and he had to hold back to maintain control. His face dropped against your chest, his lips trailing down towards your nipples, each kiss sending shivers through your body. You held him close by his hair, savoring the intimate connection.

But as the intensity built, your movements began to slow, exhaustion starting to take over. “Keep moving”, Jensen urged, his voice slightly rough and strained with need, his lips brushing against your breast. The urgency in his voice sent a renewed wave of desire through you, but your body felt heavy, each motion requiring more effort than the last.

Sensing your struggle, Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened. He began to guide your movements more forcefully, his hands urging you to keep the rhythm. “Don’t stop”, he groaned, his need evident in every word.

As you rode him with everything you had, Jensen’s face dropped back against your collarbone, his hot breath fanning your skin. His lips trailed up your neck, delivering soft bites and kisses that sent electric shivers through your body.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt the build of your climax becoming inevitable. His name on your lips seemed to push him closer to his own edge.

With one final, powerful thrust, you felt your orgasm crash over you, your body clenching tightly around him. You cried out his name, the intensity of the sensation leaving you trembling and breathless. The way your body squeezed him was too much for Jensen, and with a guttural moan, he released deep inside you, his hot cum filling you as he pulsed through his climax.

Both of you were left panting, your bodies spent and intertwined. Jensen’s face rested against your collarbone, his breath heavy and warm against your skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you both came down from the heights of your shared pleasure.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your synchronized breathing and the comforting warmth of his body against yours. Jensen’s lips found your neck again, this time in a soft, loving kiss. He lingered there, his breath warm against your skin as he planted a trail of gentle kisses up to your jawline. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as he nuzzled into you, clearly enjoying the intimate aftermath of your shared climax.

“Still got some energy left in you?”, he teased, his voice a low, playful whisper against your ear. His breath tickled your skin, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, feeling the lingering effects of your intense climax. Your legs were still shaking, and a pleasant dizziness left you feeling unable to sit up anymore. But you didn’t want to admit that, not wanting to seem weak. “Of course”, you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Jensen could tell you were lying. His teasing smile widened, and he pressed another kiss to your neck, his hands still caressing your back. “Really?”, he murmured, his voice laced with playful skepticism. “Because you look like you’re about to collapse on me”.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your body betrayed you, trembling slightly as you tried to hold yourself up. Jensen’s hands moved to your hips, supporting you as he continued to nuzzle your neck. “I’m fine”, you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jensen’s chuckle was low and knowing. “You don’t have to pretend with me”, he said softly, his tone gentle but firm.

You didn't say anything.

“You’re so stubborn,” he murmured teasingly, his breath warm against your ear. “But I kind of like that about you”.

You managed a weak smile, trying to maintain your composure, but Jensen’s persistence made it difficult. He kissed his way up to your jawline, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “I can feel how exhausted you are”, he said, his voice a playful growl. “And I think it’s adorable that you’re trying so hard to hide it”.

You bit your lip, trying to keep up the pretense, but your body was giving out. Jensen’s hands shifted to your thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

You sighed, finally letting the last of your defenses down. “Fine, you win”, you admitted, your voice soft but laced with affection. “I’m exhausted”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of cockiness and sweetness. “I knew it”, he said triumphantly. “But that just makes me want to take care of you even more”.

Before acting too fast, he looked around, spotting the tissue box on your nightstand. He reached over and pulled out a few tissues, then gently eased you down onto the mattress. He moved with care, ensuring you were comfortable.

When he gently pulled out of you, he quickly caught his leaking cum with the tissues, his movements tender and considerate. “Just relax”, he murmured. “I’ve got you”.

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Jensen cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his touch soothing and filled with affection. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he discarded the used tissues and let himself sink beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. He gently pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

“I wasn’t that bad, right?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice clearly unsure. The uncertainty in your tone made Jensen chuckle softly. He kissed your forehead, a tender gesture that made your heart swell with affection.

“Do you want the sweet answer or the honest one?”, he teased.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a pang of anxiety. “Honest”, you mumbled quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jensen’s smile widened, and he bent down, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing on your skin. “Honestly”, he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw desire, “yours is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, both from the intimate confession and the intensity of his tone. You felt a rush of warmth and pride, your insecurities melting away in the face of his genuine praise.

Jensen smirked down at you, enjoying the sight of your blush spreading across your cheeks. Your eyes were half-closed, looking completely spent, yet filled with a quiet satisfaction. He couldn’t help but tease you a bit more, his voice playful and affectionate.

“The old man really did wear you out, huh?”, he said, a grin spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “Maybe just a little”, you admitted, your voice still breathless from the intensity of your shared experience.

Jensen’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Just a little, huh?”, he teased, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. “I think I did more than just a little”.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch and the playful edge in his voice. “Okay, maybe a lot”, you admitted, smiling up at him.

Jensen’s expression softened as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with affection. He gently lifted your head, looking at you for a moment as if committing the sight to memory. Then, he bent down slightly and softly laid his lips on yours.

You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The exhaustion you felt seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the gentle pressure of his lips against yours. Jensen’s hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his affection and tenderness into the moment.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen's embrace grew tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate passion, conveying emotions that words couldn't capture.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, Jensen's eyes searched yours with a mixture of adoration and wonder. "You're something else", he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So are you", you replied softly, your fingers trailing gently along his jawline.

Jensen kissed you once more, his fingers tracing gently over your lower back, sending delightful shivers through your body. His touch was soft and reverent, as if he was savoring every moment. As his lips moved tenderly against yours, he mumbled, “Your skin is so smooth”, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your own twinkling with amusement. “You’ve told me that a million times”, you teased gently, remembering how he had praised the smoothness of your skin during your last night together.

Jensen grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “And I’ll say it a million more times”, he replied, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of your back.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you flat onto his body, your chest pressed against his. The warmth of his skin against yours sent another delightful shiver through you. You nestled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

He looked down at you. “Comfortable?”, he asked, his voice a playful whisper.

You smiled up at him, feeling completely at ease in his arms. “Very”, you replied, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I could stay like this forever”.

Jensen’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I wouldn’t mind”, he murmured against your lips. “Not one bit”.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of contentment and affection. “You’re such a sap”, you teased, though your heart swelled.

“Only for you”, he responded, his hands gently roaming over your back, drawing lazy patterns that made you feel even more relaxed.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a while, you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the closeness and warmth of each other’s presence. The world outside ceased to matter, and all that existed was the two of you, wrapped up in a cocoon of love and intimacy.

Jensen’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with tenderness. “You know, I never thought I’d find someone like you”, he said, his fingers still tracing gentle patterns on your back.

“Someone like me?”, you whispered teasingly. “Like someone who makes old man jokes?”.

Jensen’s expression shifted from tenderness to mock offense, and before you could react, you felt a sharp but playful slap on your ass. “Hey!”, you yelped, both surprised and amused.

“You ruined the damn moment”, he said with a grin.

“I’m sorry”, you said, still smiling, but Jensen shook his head. “Nuh uh”, he replied, his grin widening.

“Please, come on”, you said, your tone turning playful and a bit pleading. “What is it you wanted to say?”.

Jensen just shook his head again. “Nope, you had your chance”.

Determined, you propped yourself up on your elbows, pouting and looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “Pleeeaaase”, you whined softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. “Tell me?”.

Jensen’s resolve seemed to waver as you continued to kiss along his jawline, your lips trailing soft, teasing kisses. “Please, Jensen?”, you murmured against his skin, your voice a soft, seductive whisper.

He groaned softly, clearly enjoying the attention but trying to hold on to his playful stubbornness. “You’re not playing fair”, he muttered, his hands sliding up your back.

You smiled against his skin, knowing you were getting to him. “I never play fair”, you whispered, continuing your kisses, moving closer to his lips. “But I really want to know”.

Jensen sighed dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but the fondness in his eyes gave him away. “Alright, alright”, he said, his voice softening as he looked at you. “What I wanted to say was… I never thought I’d find someone who makes me as happy as you do”.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart racing like crazy at his words. Overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings, you pressed your face against his chest, seeking refuge in the comforting warmth of his embrace. Expressing such deep emotions was something you often struggled with, even though your heart was overflowing with love for him.

Jensen chuckled softly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. “You’re blushing”, he teased, his voice soft and affectionate. “You’re so adorable when you get all shy on me”.

You mumbled something unintelligible against his chest, feeling both embarrassed and touched by his words. Jensen’s fingers continued to comb through your hair soothingly, his touch grounding you and helping to calm your racing heart.

“You know”, he murmured softly, his voice a gentle murmur above your head, “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a mixture of warmth and nervousness filling you. “You really mean that?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen’s hand stilled in your hair for a moment. “Absolutely”, he said with conviction. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before”.

“I’ve never felt this way either”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

You pressed your face harder against his naked, slightly sticky chest, seeking the comforting warmth of his skin.

Jensen’s hand resumed its soothing motions in your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”, he said softly, his voice a gentle rumble you felt through his chest. “Finding someone who makes you feel like this”.

You nodded against him, the words too heavy and meaningful to speak aloud. Instead, you let your actions convey what you felt, your arms wrapping tightly around him, holding him close.

He kissed the top of your head, before he shifted slightly, adjusting your position so you were more comfortable against him. His hand continued to stroke your hair.

As you lay there together, you realized that this was just the beginning.

“Thank you”, you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen pressed another kiss to your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he replied, “For what?”.

“For being you”, you replied honestly.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jensen’s lips, his eyes softening with affection as he gazed down at you.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. Without another word, Jensen leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

Jensen gently turned around with you, shifting his weight until he hovered above you. His lips never left yours, the kiss deepening with each passing moment, filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness. As he moved, his hands explored your body with gentle caresses, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

His lips began to travel down your jawline, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin.

As his lips continued their journey, they found the sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp softly. Jensen’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture as he kissed and nibbled his way down to your collarbone.

The feeling of his lips on your skin was both intoxicating and comforting, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You arched slightly beneath him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, wanting more of his touch.

Jensen’s kisses grew more deliberate as he moved lower, trailing down over your collarbone and toward your breasts. His breath was hot against your skin, his touch gentle yet insistent. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, seeking silent permission to continue.

You nodded, your eyes half-closed with desire, and Jensen’s lips found their way to the sensitive skin of your breast. He pressed a kiss just above your heart before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with exquisite care.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding to his touch with a fervor you could barely contain. Jensen’s hand cupped your other breast, his thumb and forefinger gently teasing your nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to continue. Jensen responded by lavishing the same attention on your other breast, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you wild.

As he continued to explore your body, his kisses trailed lower, moving down your abdomen with the same tender care. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the deep connection and affection you shared, a promise of more to come.

Jensen paused just above your navel, his eyes meeting yours once more. The look in his eyes was one of pure love and desire, a reflection of the bond you had formed.

Slowly, he moved lower, his kisses trailing down to your hips. With gentle hands, he spread your legs, his touch tender and reverent. He started to kiss your inner thighs, his lips brushing against your skin with a delicate intensity that made you shiver.

His eyes remained locked with yours, the connection between you deepening with every glance.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands gently caressing your thighs.

He moved closer to your core, his breath hot against your skin, and you could feel your pulse quicken in response. Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his gaze a steady anchor in the overwhelming tide of sensations. “Trust me”, he whispered. “Just let go”.

With that, he dipped his head lower, his lips finally finding their way to your most intimate spot. The first touch of his mouth against you was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made you arch your back and gasp his name. But instead of diving in with his tongue, Jensen took his time, savoring the moment. His lips moved with exquisite gentleness, placing featherlight kisses on your most intimate spots.

Your breath hitched with each gentle kiss, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as the anticipation built to a fever pitch. “Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”.

His response was a soft hum of acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued his tender exploration. The kisses grew a little firmer, a little more insistent, but still maintaining that featherlight touch that was driving you wild with desire.

Just then, Jensen’s phone on the nightstand rang, the screen lighting up with Jared’s name. The sound cut through the haze of pleasure, making you momentarily aware of your surroundings.

“It’s Jared”, you mumbled breathlessly between soft moans, your body still thrumming with the anticipation of his touch.

Jensen grinned mischievously, his lips hovering just above your clit. “Answer it”, he murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive spot.

Your eyes widened in surprise, a shiver running through you at the unexpected suggestion. “Are you serious?”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and excitement.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Yeah”, he said, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Answer it”.

With a shaky hand, you reached for the phone, your heart racing. You swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear just as Jensen’s mouth found its mark again.

Jensen still didn’t use his tongue, just his lips, placing featherlight kisses. You answered the phone, your voice trembling as you tried to maintain your composure. “H-hey Jared”.

Jared chuckled on the other end of the line, his tone light and teasing. “So you’re answering his phone now, huh? Where is he?”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent. “He’s, um, he’s right here”, you managed to say, your voice breathy and uneven.

Jensen’s eyes met yours, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he continued his gentle assault, his lips never leaving you. He seemed to take pleasure in your struggle to maintain control, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Right here, huh?”, Jared’s voice was full of curiosity. “What’s he doing? Can I talk to him?”.

You fought to keep your voice steady, each kiss from Jensen sending waves of pleasure through you. “He’s a bit… busy right now”, you replied, your breath hitching. “Can I take a message?”.

Jared laughed, clearly amused. “Busy? What’s he doing that’s so important?”.

Jensen’s eyes gleamed with playful defiance as he pressed a particularly insistent kiss to your clit, making you gasp. You struggled to find your voice, the sensations overwhelming. “He’s, um, helping me with something”, you said, barely managing to get the words out.

Just then, Jensen flicked his tongue out, finally adding a new layer of sensation that made you nearly lose your grip on the phone. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making it even harder to maintain your composure.

“Oh really?”, Jared’s voice came through the phone, still amused. “What’s he helping you with?”.

You bit your lip, your body trembling as you tried to focus. “It’s, um, kind of hard to explain”, you replied, your voice shaking.

Jensen’s tongue continued its exquisite exploration, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes that drove you wild. You could barely think straight, let alone keep up with the conversation.

The heat between you and Jensen intensified with every stroke of his tongue, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge. Despite Jared’s voice still on the phone, you struggled to maintain any semblance of composure.

“It’s, uh, a project”, you managed to stammer out, your voice wavering as Jensen’s mouth worked magic on you. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through your body.

Jared chuckled lightly, clearly entertained by your distracted responses. “A project?”, he replied. “Sounds like quite the project”.

You could sense Jensen’s grin against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. He intensified his efforts, his tongue finding just the right rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yeah”, you managed to say, trying to focus on the conversation while Jensen’s touch pushed you closer to the brink. “A… special project”.

Jared’s laughter echoed through the phone. “Well, tell Jensen he’s a lucky guy”. he said. “He should call me when he’s ‘free’ again”.

You struggled to respond, Jensen’s skilled ministrations overwhelming your senses. “I will”, you managed to utter between gasps, your voice strained with pleasure.

Jared chuckled knowingly. “Alright then”, he said, his tone lighthearted. “Have fun with your… special project”.

Before you could reply, Jared hung up, leaving you alone with Jensen and the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. Jensen’s lips and tongue continued their tantalizing dance, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As Jared’s voice faded from your mind, you surrendered fully to the pleasure Jensen was giving you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your body trembled with the intensity of your arousal. Jensen responded eagerly, his actions driven by a combination of passion and a desire to please you completely.

The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, punctuated by the wet, intoxicating sounds of Jensen’s mouth on you. He brought you to the brink and held you there, expertly teasing and pleasing until you shattered into a blissful release.

With a shuddering gasp, you reached your peak, your body trembling with the force of your climax. Jensen’s movements slowed, his touch gentle and soothing as he helped you ride out the waves of pleasure washing over you.

As you came down from the euphoric high, Jensen eased himself up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there, catching your breath, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure. When you finally managed to look at him, you sent him a playful deadpan glance, raising an eyebrow at his mischievous grin.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You did so well”, he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe you should think about a career as an actress. You managed to keep it together pretty impressively with Jared on the phone”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and breathless. “You’re evil”, you said, shaking your head. “That was so hard”.

Jensen chuckled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “But you did it”, he murmured against your mouth. “And you looked incredibly sexy doing it”.

Jensen licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you. “Think you can handle another round?”, he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

Your eyes followed his gaze to his impressive erection standing proudly between the two of you. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, and you felt your breath hitch in anticipation. You bit your lip, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you looked back up at him.

“Do you even have to ask?”, you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of teasing and genuine desire.

Jensen’s smirk widened, his hands gently caressing your sides as he positioned himself between your legs. “Good answer”, he said, his voice a husky whisper. He leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his body pressing against yours.

While kissing, Jensen grabbed his erection, lining himself up with your entrance. With a shaky groan against your lips, he let himself sink deep inside you, the sensation overwhelming both of you. “Fuck, (Y/N)”, he mumbled, his voice thick with pleasure.

You gasped at the feeling of him filling you completely, your body arching to meet his. Jensen paused for a moment, allowing both of you to savor the connection before he began to move.

He started with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one drawing a soft moan from your lips. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked in a shared moment of intimacy and passion.

Another round later, as your breathing slowed and your bodies relaxed, Jensen gently rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. His arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

You smiled against his chest. “No cleaning me up anymore?”, you teased softly.

Jensen chuckled tiredly, his voice warm and deep. “It’s unnecessary anyway”, he mumbled, his words a mixture of affection and exhaustion.

You tilted your head up to look at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “For someone who seems to enjoy coming inside me, you never asked if I’m on the pill”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 15

-

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2

[chuubian]

Let the light in

Tags Beast Dazai x gn civilian reader, secrets, obsession (kinda), kidnapping, Dazai just needs to be loved, pathetic wet cat Dazai

Summary Your boyfriend, Dazai, has been acting weird. You suspect he's been seeing other people, but the reality is worse than you could've imagined.

A/N This one is rlly long again but i didn't feel like splitting it up into parts I'm so sorry

A loud ring cuts through the pleasant atmosphere of the cafe- dragging you out of your thoughts. You turn your head to look at the source of the interruption. There's a tall man at the door. The bags under his eyes are dark and heavy, pulling the rest of him down with them, hunched over, slowly making his way to the counter. Taking in the rest of his appearance, you notice the darkness of his eyes, and the dullness of his skin- stretched over fragile bone, giving his face a gaunt, hollow appearance. He seemed to be on the verge of death.

“What can i get-”

“Get me a regular coffee.”

Rude. He didn't even give you a chance to finish. Your eyebrows furrow, fingers tapping on the counter impatiently. Blood boiling, you decide not to start anything, instead turning to prepare his drink. There wasn’t anyone else in the shop so you could take your time. Grabbing a pour-over brewer, you set it down with a loud clunk. Making coffee was something that usually relaxed you. Warm steam rose up, washing over your face, cleansing your body of the irritation flowing through your veins.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the man settle down, taking a seat on the stool in front of you. You pour scalding hot water over the grounds, watching them bloom and bubble. Golden liquid circulates through the coffee, dripping down into the glass container under it. The see-through jug turns foggy and opaque- filling the entire brewer with not only freshly brewed coffee, but hot water vapor. The scent of a fresh brew is loud- filling the room, sticking to the walls and your clothing. It's hard to miss it.

You pour the man's coffee into a white mug, setting it down infront of him. His gaze had not left you the entire time, it was unsettling. A freezing cold shiver traveled down your spine. What was with this guy? You had never met anyone that was so ominous. So haunting. His lips stretched into an unnatural smile. It looked off. Like he had never done it previously.

"Thank you."

His voice was softer, not as freezing or rude as he had treated you only a few minutes ago. You set down a little jug of creamer and some sugar cubes. He didn't seem like the type to like sweet coffee, but you didn't like to make assumptions. His slender fingers reached out to pick five sugars, putting them in his coffee and so much creamer that it turns into a light beige color. Seriously? What is wrong with this guy.... He tips the mug back, chugging like its water.

"It's delicious."

"It's basically just milk and sugar with everything you put in it."

His dry lips quirk up into a small grin- genuine this time.

"Still tasty."

The only sound resonating through the cafe is soft classical music and the man's quiet drinking. You hadn't realized before but... he was so handsome. Dark hair framed his thin, pale face. His eye is big and dark, like a black hole, swallowing up all the life around him. Did he lose his other eye though? Why is there gauze covering it? His features were small and delicate, nothing like his demeanor. There was something so captivating, so uncanny about him. He almost seemed like he was half-corpse. Everything about him was so cold.

When he finally finished his drink, he asked for the check- pulling out a black metallic credit card from his wallet to pay with. You looked him up and down. Was he rich? You wouldn't doubt it. His clothing seemed to be good quality. Signing the bill, he slides the receipt back to you.

"Have a good day!"

You wave him off but he doesn't respond. As he disappears out the door, the tension from the room dissipates, only leaving a churning sensation in your lower stomach. Like your belly is eating itself. You look back down at the check. He left a huge tip. 45%. And his number.

Call Me :p

It wasn't uncommon for customers to try and hit on you, but they had never been like this guy. And none had been as bewitching. Something in you urged you to call him. To not let him slip away. You punch his number into your cell phone, a prickling sensation spreading over your skin. When your phone asks for a name, you don't know what to put. Fuck. Why didn't you ask?? What are you supposed to call him?? Suddenly, a realization comes over you, the fog clearing from your mind. You were fucking stupid. You pull the crumpled receipt back out from your pocket, looking over the messy signature. Dazai Osamu.

—

In the few weeks you had known Dazai, he had completely overtaken your life. He frequently sent you gifts, called you everyday for hours at a time, taking you out on beautiful dates every week. He always came back to your apartment after, but for some reason, you were never allowed in his house. Any time you would bring up the subject, his face would turn impassive, voice growing frigid. What could he possibly be hiding?

"Don't worry about it. We can always go to your place anyways right? What's so important about mine?"

"I guess... but why can't I? It's just weird that you won't let me."

He presses a small kiss to your forehead. Immediately, all your muscles seem to even out, relaxing.

"It's just... not somewhere you want to see alright? You trust me right? I have your best interest in mind."

When he puts it that way, it makes sense. Why are you so suspicious? He hasn't done anything wrong. He's been perfect in every way so far. Maybe it's just new relationship anxiety. Things have been moving quickly but that doesnt mean Dazai can’t have boundaries. You sigh, wrapping your arms around his slender waist. Solid bone digs into your flesh painfully, sharp aching throbs lighting your nerves on fire. It always hurt to be so close to him, but you couldn't stop going back. Being with the brunette was too addictive. You wished you could have all his attention to yourself.

"Let's go back to yours."

You nod, taking his cool bandaged hand in yours, leading him through the streets towards your apartment. As you two walked hand in hand, you noticed something that never happened previously. It was noon, but the street was relatively empty. This is a big city, why is it so still? Everything is so peaceful. The few people that are walking, are looking down at the floor, seeming humiliated- almost distressed. Men refuse to even look in your direction, deciding the wall is much more interesting than anything else.

"It's so empty..."

Dazai hums quietly, looking straight ahead, not answering. It's uncharacteristic of him. He usually can't shut up. He pulls you closer, arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you up against him. You walk back home with him, an awkward silence fills the air. You took a long deep breath, eyes darting all over. Moisture beads on your forehead. It's far too warm. You step away from Dazai, taking hold of his hand again. It's uncomfortable to be too close right now.

When you arrive at the door of your apartment, the pressure weighing on your shoulders lifts. It's home. You stick the key in the door. A jangling noise fills the air- metal against metal, clinking and working to unfasten the padlock. Once the door opens, cool air rushes towards you, refreshing your overheated skin. A shiver runs down your body to your fingertips. The feeling of tranquility descends over your muscles.

Before you can take a step forward, Dazais slender fingers wrap around your wrist.He pulls you inside, going through the doorframe- his shoulders sag forward, letting out a breath he had been holding the entire walk home. The scowl that had carved its way between his eyebrows finally evened out, leaving only smooth skin between them. He takes off his coat and scarf. He hands them to you, already anticipating you'll do everything for him.

You grab hold of his stuff, taking off your coat too. When you reach up to hang your stuff up, you feel thin arms wrapping around your waist- smooth plaster grazed against your clothing, his nails biting into the fabric, keeping you in place. Warmth radiates from his body. Overwhelming and stifling. You wanted to push his arms off of you. To free yourself from his crushing restraint. Maybe you shouldn't have let him come over. It was difficult to behave normally around him. What is he hiding?

Dazai rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. His dark hair brushes against your cheek. You don't want to do this right now. Not like this. He needs to go.

"Dazai..."

You grab his wrists, prying his arms off you.

"Hm? What's wrong, darling?"

"It's just... I've told you everything about myself but I barely know anything about you. Why?"

His arms tighten around you. He stretches his lips into a tight smile.

"We went over this. You need to trust me, honey. What do you want to know anyways? I'll tell you anything."

"Well for starters... I don't even know where you work. Where is your family? Are you close with them? You never mention your mom or anything."

His eyes blacken. Absorbing all light. Empty and chilling. It sends a shudder down your spine. The skin crinkles around his eyes, teeth flashing, smile widening. It seemed forced.

"Well... I work in marketing, and my family lives in Osaka. I moved away for University and i've been here ever since. I call my mom every day, i love her dearly and even though we dont see eachother often, were very tightly-knit."

He sounded like he was telling the truth... Maybe the reason he never mentioned his family is because they're far away, but something in the back of your mind was nagging at you. Did his explanation even make sense?

"Where did you study? What company? How can you afford all the gifts with just a marketing job?"

You shoot out questions as fast as you can, trying to catch him off guard.

"Yokohama city university. Mikatsu group. I have a good position. Money isn't something I need to worry about."

He answered without hesitation. Expression giving nothing away. He must be telling the truth. He seemed so sure of himself.

"...Really?"

"Really."

He looked into your eyes, maintaining eye contact until you decided to look away. Dazai gave you no reason to doubt him. He just wanted trust. But there was something telling you he was lying.

"I believe you."

You lean back into his touch, melting under his ministrations. He leans down. Pressing his lips to your temple, he starts walking you back to your room.

"Come on... Let me help you relax, yeah?

—

Stillness seems to follow you around. In the cafe. In the street during rush hour. Even in shopping centers that are supposed to be overflowing with people. Whenever you stepped foot anywhere in public, the floor cleared and your surroundings were drained of people. They didn't even look up as they stream past you, rushing out like water that's been repelled by oil. Oil that for some reason just can't get the harrowing feeling that their boyfriend is lying to them, to stop.

So you decide you have to investigate. Maybe it's absurd. Dressing up in all black and dark sunglasses, you head out- making your way down the stairs, up the sidewalk to Dazai's supposed place of work, and hiding in the alleyway beside the old building. Waiting for three hours, from seven to ten, just to make sure you can see him if he comes in late, proves to be more uninteresting than anything else you've ever done. Why didn't you just ask what time he goes in?

Now you have to spend too much time in this dirty alleyway. The smell of grease and trash permeates the hard concrete of the buildings and sidewalk- it would be unthinkable for them to ever be apart, especially when the ground is covered in decaying food and random black stains you would never want to know the origins of. You don't dare to touch anything around you, deciding to just stand. Even if it hurts your legs.

It's been at least an hour. Where is he? People have been filtering in and out, unaware of the person observing them in the shadows. This is ridiculous. You should call and find out. The fluorescent glow of your cell phone blinds you, making you squint as you scroll down your contact list and press on Dazai's name. A ring circulates through the air. You look up, startled out of your trance.

Of course he's there.

You see him dig his phone out of his pocket. He looks at the screen, thumbing at the buttons and holding it up to his ear. You do the same.

"Hello?"

"Dazai... uh...where are you?"

Fuck. Does that sound suspicious? You definitely should have planned better.

"I'm going into work right now. Why? You miss me?"

He's smiling, earnestly, stopped in front of the door to the building. His suit is finely pressed, his bandages are clean and neatly arranged. He looks so good.

"No.. uh... I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over afterwards? Do you usually go to work at this time?"

"I do. Are you suspicious of me again darling? Is that why you're watching me right now?"

His voice had flattened. Dazai turns his head slowly to look in your direction. Your blood runs cold and your heart hammers in your chest. His gaze was piercing, seeing right through you and into your very core. Past all the deceit. You felt naked. Stripped of all the pomp and frills.

As he steps closer, his sharp features become clearer to you. His lips are pursed together, hands clenched so hard his knuckles are turning white. A prickling sensation shoots up your spine. You try to look around frantically for a place to hide but it's a pointless endeavor. Sooner than your shaky legs can move, you feel a heavy hand gripping your shoulder tightly, forcing you to turn and look at the offender.

Dazai was grinning.

"Why do you look so scared, darling?"

"How did you-"

He cuts you off.

"You're so obvious... But seriously why are you following me? I thought you trusted me. Did you think I was lying?"

Your hands reach out for Dazai, curling in the fabric of his suit jacket. Taking a long, slow, deep breath, your eyebrows pinch together.

"I-i'm sorry I don't know... I just had this feeling..."

"Don't listen to your feelings, listen to me."

His grip turns gentle, boney hand traveling up to your scalp, petting your hair lovingly. You look up at his handsome face, eyes shining with amusement. A tremble runs up your body.

"You're not mad?"

Dazai holds your face.

"Of course not. I just think you're crazy and a little silly, but I'm not mad."

He leans down. His warm lips press against your forehead.

"I'm not crazy-"

"You are. Don't deny it. You figured out where I worked and stalked me."

His voice is sharp, reminding you of the severity of your transgression.

"Sorry..."

A low chuckle rumbles in his throat.

"Why should I forgive you huh?"

Your eyebrows pinch together. Really? You're not begging for his mercy.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. Go on, tell me how much you love me, I'm listening!"

He puts his hands on his hips, stepping back and puffing his chest out. You could feel the blood simmering under your skin.A displeased sound leaves your lips without your permission, unintentionally encouraging Dazai to keep going.

"Don't be shy, I know how much you love me."

Has he always been so irritating? You swear he wasn't like this when you first met.

"Look.. I'm sorry for following you but I'm not saying that."

Sighing, he looks you up and down. His eyes are downcast. Disappointed.

"You dressed up for this? You're not in a spy movie you know."

You push him away lightly, cheeks heating up.

"It helped me get in the mindset."

"I'm sure."

Dazai steps forward, arms coiling themselves around your shoulders. His rigid, skinny sternum presses against your chest. It's ice cold and sharp.

"You look stunning."

Dazai noses at your throat, a fluttering feeling nudging at the walls of your stomach. Pushing the limits of your anatomy. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing. He keeps going, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck- his dry lips scrape against the surface, sending small sparks of pleasure down your spine. Bandaged hands migrate down to your lower tummy, lifting your shirt and gently caressing the small bit of flesh there.

"Ready to eat, really."

A breath catches in your throat. Your hands shakily grasp onto his arms. Before you can lean in to kiss him, he drags himself away from you.

"I'm gonna be late, I should get going."

You cross your arms, feet tapping against the concrete.

"You're such an asshole."

"Hm? What did I do? You know I have work right now."

You huff, shoving his shoulder away softly.

"You knew what you were doing."

His lips stretch into a sleazy smirk.

"Yeah, I did. But I really do have to go."

Dazai pulls you closer, hands on your waist.

"Do you want me to come over later?"

You can't bring yourself to make eye contact, nodding.

"Fine."

He snorts gleefully, kissing your cheek before bolting into the building. His feet slam against the floor as he calls out to you.

"Get ready for me!"

You're left there, again. All alone. It happened so fast you could barely process everything that happened. Your brain was scrambled- whiplash blurring your vision and filling your ears with cotton. You don't even get to say a proper goodbye when Dazai is gone, inside the building and presumably hard at work.

Gathering what little remains of your pride, you drag your feet across the pavement, slowly making your way down the empty sidewalk. The minute amount of people around you, refuse to look up. How can they even tell where they're going honestly? Were you that ugly that they couldn't bear to, even briefly, glance over at you?

Despite the fact that no one was looking up at you, there was still a persistent feeling of being watched. No matter how fast you ran, how furiously your lungs worked to keep oxygen in your lungs, Or how strenuously your heart worked to pump the blood though your arteries- you could not escape the penetrating gaze. You whip your head around, hoping to catch the freak in the act, but nothing was there. Only a vacant, silent street.

Was it just your imagination?

It couldn't be.

You stand still. Glaring at the deserted sidewalk behind you.

"Come out! I know you're there!"

Nothing happens. The bird's morning songs fade into hushed, uneasy chirps. Even nature can sense the impending crisis.

"I don't have all day! Why are you following me?!"

A small shuffling noise comes from the alleyway behind you. As soon as you turn around you're greeted with a short man who has white hair and a bizarre haircut. The collar around his neck looks heavy and painful. What's wrong with him? He's hiding his face, peeking up at you almost... scared?

"You. Why are you following?! Who are you?!"

You don't dare to get closer. He could be dangerous. Who knows if this stalker would get violent.

He doesn't answer.

"My boyfriends a cop! You better answer me!"

It's a complete lie. But he doesn't know that.

"No he's not."

You're taken aback. How the fuck would he know.

"What?! Yes he is! How long have you been stalking me? You don't even know basic information about me. You're bad at this! Find something else to do!"

"I'm not stupid. I know what I'm doing."

The man's voice was soft- weak and meek. You slowly make your way over to him, arms crossed in front of you.

"Then you should know my boyfriend can beat you up."

He stays deathly silent, hunched over. Almost like he's an animal- ready to attack or make his escape.

"You better give me one good reason not to call him up right now."

"It's pointless."

Your eyes narrow.

"Why would you say that? You don't know anything. You're a degenerate freak. He'll kill you."

He stares at you, eyes boring into your soul. He seems confused. The white haired man's head is tilted curiously- looking at you like youre a dumbass.

"He's the one who sent me."

What.

Dazai??

"Huh?"

The man steps forward.

"You didn't know? He just wanted you to stay safe... I swear it's not me being a creep, but with his work, h-he's worried about your safety."

This man is delusional. His work? What could a man in marketing be trying to protect you from?

"You're crazy."

"I'm telling the truth!"

Does he truly think you'll believe something so ridiculous? Your hands clench, face heating, breath picking up. You're seriously in the mood to put him in his place yourself.

"Stop lying."

He senses that you're getting angry.

"I have proof!"

"Show me. It better be real."

The man pulls out a flip phone with unsteady hands, snapping it open, and pressing a few buttons. When he turns the phone over to you, you are horrified by the amount of pictures taken without your knowledge. It's hundreds. Pictures taken through the cafe windows, from behind while you're walking, of you out with friends. It's only been a few weeks. How are there so many?? Your eyes widen, blood draining from your face. A dreadful feeling forms in your stomach.

This can be true. You frantically take hold of the device, holding the radiant screen close to your eyes, uncaring of the damage it could cause to your sight. Pressing a few buttons you go to the contact information. It's his number. You would recognize it anywhere. But what if it's fake?

"What's your name?"

"Atsushi."

You look back down at the phone, thumb hovering over the keys.

"Atsushi. Okay... you better not be lying to me."

Before you can overthink it, you press the call button. Your hands are shaking as you bring the phone up to your ear. You hardly have to hear the rings when a deep voice comes through.

"Atsushi. What is it?"

Chills run down your spine. It can't be him. Why does he sound so distant? Like when you first met him. You quickly hang up, handing the phone back to Atsushi. Your abdomen feels like it's eating itself. Churning and swirling. A hollow vortex swallowing you up.

"W-what does Dazai work in again?"

Atsushi's face gives nothing away.

"Management…?"

You roll your eyes. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Where."

"If he hasn't told you, I can't either."

Your eyebrows pinch together, scowling.

"Fine."

You toss the phone back to him.

"If you won’t tell me, I'll figure it out myself."

The despair in your gut turned into burning white hot rage coursing through your veins. This time, you couldn't even enjoy the empty street on your way back home- stomping past the gardens you usually visit when you're out alone. Your entire body was trembling, both with anger and anguish. How dare he? He made you feel like you were crazy! He lied to you this entire time?! Why?!? Brass keys rattle loudly as you try to unlock the door.

The door unlatches and swings open. Emptiness is the only thing you can discern when you walk through the threshold. Dazai, the person you once trusted isn't here. Even when he does finally make his way back to you, the lies he told can never be untold. The walls shake as you slam the opening shut- anticipating the storm that's about to come, quivering nervously.

Time goes by faster than expected as you wait for Dazai. Your mind is racing- trying to process everything you knew and everything you didn't. What was he thinking? Why? What else had he lied about? It's been hours and your brain still can't figure it out. Why? It can't be that bad... He could be on the verge of bankruptcy and it wouldn't have mattered to you. Maybe he was just a pathological liar.

Your head is spinning in circles, exploring any path it could, trying to find its way to the truth. That's the important thing. Your blood is boiling- bubbles of frustration rise up to the surface, bursting in vicious outbursts. The resounding scream you let out make a  dryness and pulsating throbs echo through your esophagus. Your ears ring horribly. 

You're dizzy. And there's no other choice left but to confront him.

The echo of a knock on the door reverberates through the room. Your legs feel sluggish, you have to force the muscles to work. Force yourself to go to the entrance. Your skin heats, and small drops of sweat start forming around your hairline. Quickly, you wipe your forehead and hands off. When the door swings open, you're met with the face you dreaded the most. Dazai.

He doesn't even wait for you to let him in before he lunges at you. His skinny arms are surprisingly strong, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer.

"I missed you so much honey."

He buries his face in the crook of your neck. Warmth engulfs you, dragging you in. Your head knows you should push him away. You should be confronting him- but your body wants to give in, to give it up and just forget about everything. After all, did it really matter? It's just his job, he isn't a bad person.

With great effort, you managed to separate his hands from your midriff.

"Dazai. We need to talk."

He smiles, pulling you right back in.

"No we don't, come on you seem tense. I'm already staying up all night. We’ll talk after."

He insists, hastily pressing gentle kisses to your jaw and neck. You thoughtlessly tilt your head back, giving him free reign. Dazai doesnt waste a second, nipping at the delicate skin. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, blood rushing up to your head. It's hard to keep your composure. A soft gasp escapes your lips.

"See? You need this."

Dazai is merciless- when you try to get him away, he dives right back in. He’s relentless.

"D-dazai, I'm serious!"

After wrestling with him for a few minutes he finally backs off.

"What is it?"

His voice is flat, eyes darkening- he sighs and steps behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. It's a drastic change from his former appearance. He definitely knew more than he let on.

"Tell me the truth."

He doesn't answer.

"Please dazai... Why is this such a big deal for you? I don't care where you work, I just can't be with someone who keeps lying to me."

He tightens his grip on you.

"I can't tell you."

"Really. Why not?"

Dazai turns you around to face him. His fingers dig into your sides.

"Because it's just not important. I thought you loved me. This shouldn't be a big deal if you truly do."

That was so unfair.

"Of course i do. But I don't want you to keep lying to me... please."

He stares at you for a few seconds, judging your expression.

"I work as a programmer."

"Nope."

"I do!"

You give him a pointed look.

"Fine, I'm actually a lawyer."

"Dazai."

"Doctor."

"Don't make me laugh."

"Sanitation."

"No."

"Barista."

"Seriously? How long are you gonna keep this up?"

Dazai runs his hand through his hair, clearly stressed out.

"You really want to know? You're not gonna like it."

"Dazai... come on, you know I'm not like that. I wont stop liking you so easily."

He looks away from you, squinting, deep in thought.

"I work somewhere dangerous."

"Where. Specifically."

He shakily takes hold of your hands. The old bandages are unraveling slowly- revealing more and more of his pale skin. It's littered with scars and scabs. There's a few spots with discoloration, and you can practically see his veins through his skin.

"Promise you won't hate me first."

You raise his hand up to your face, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"I promise."

He takes in a large lungful of air- releasing the tension from his shoulders.

"I work for... a criminal organization."

You lower your head. A hollow feeling grows in your chest. It's like a huge weight has been plopped onto your shoulders. Your ears stop working for a second as the sound of water rushing resonates through your head- washing in fear and outrage.

"Like.. a gang?"

"Slightly bigger."

You pause.

"How much bigger..."

"Like... Port Mafia sized."

Your body stills. There's a loud ringing in your ear. Scenery of horrible new stories flash past your eyes- destroyed jaws from biting the curb, and hundreds of poisoned civilians as a way to achieve their depraved objectives. What?? You can't find it in yourself to speak up, your voice is weak and cracking.

"A-As a cleaner or something... right? Something that doesn't i-involve..."

Some things were better left unsaid. You couldn't imagine him doing something so cruel. He's not capable of killing someone... right?

"As the boss."

Dazai can't seem to look directly at you. His hands tighten painfully. You try to step away, to process everything, but he won't let you. You just wish the ground would swallow you whole.

How naive of you to ever think Dazai could genuinely be good after lying so much. The small flame of hope that your heart fostered, was blown out within seconds. It left your body freezing to the touch. No longer does the love for him blaze on. Even if it did, it was your duty to extinguish it. You couldn't be with someone so cold-blooded.

"Please say something."

It's like your body is not your own anymore. Like your soul has escaped its bodily imprisonment. You wish it had. Then this would be none of your problem. What could you even say?

"Leave."

He stammers over his words, shocked.

"W-What?"

"I said leave. I don't want to see you any more."

Desperately, he starts shaking his head. The one eye that's exposed widens. They're no longer than deep empty black, but something more ardent. Something frantic.

"No. No. You can't do this to me. I won't let you!"

You lightly squeeze his fingers.

"You can't stop me. It's not your choice to make Dazai... If one person says it's over, it's over."

"I can't be without you. Please."

Abruptly, he drops onto his knees. Hard. Dazais body presses against your leg, fingers sinking into the flesh of your thigh. He holds on urgently. It's like he's climbing a mountain. He's hopelessly struggling to hold on to the last remaining ledges, trying to make his journey up to the top. It's something he knows is futile. The cliff is too steep, there's nowhere left to step, he's tired and starving after all his effort. But he can't help it. He has to. What else is there to do? He can't go back now- it's too late.

The relationship will never be the same. You know it. He knows it. But is it so wrong to want it back? His eyes keep darting around the room, looking for anything to help him. It's... unsettling. You've never seen him like this. He's usually so much more composed- so much harder to read.

"Y-You can't just break up with me. Not like this... I can't live without you."

"You have to find a way.”

Dazai pulls you down to his level, holding your body against his slim sternum. He's trembling.

"Never. I won't go back! I can't!"

You shake your head.

"It's over Dazai."

—

It's been a month since you left Dazai. You haven't dated for long but he's the kind of person that's hard to forget. The little time you spent together left a huge impression on you. Everything felt... oppressive, unfulfilling without him.

Coming back home from work with nothing to look forward to- boring white walls stare back at you. The quietude was ear-piercing. When he was here, the air was filled with laughter and Dazais ominous jokes. They always made you laugh even though they weren't funny. Only the noise of the air conditioning, working tirelessly, was present.

The scent of his cologne had long since faded away. He took back all the clothes he'd left over the weeks. When he was over at your apartment, he'd always start making coffee. But the aroma of those stupid beans made you feel sick now. The taste had turned bitter- and not in the acidic way that was characteristic of the scalding hot golden drink. Within the first week of your break up, you were forced to throw away your coffee machine. In the second week you could barely even handle your job at the cafe anymore.

Working at the cafe is a bleak affair. The coffee shop has too many memories. Coffee in general has too many memories. It was still as peaceful as ever in the shop, but you found yourself rushing through your work- trying to get the customers out as fast as possible. You didn't want them to stare. You didn't want them to see the tears forming in your eyes, or the tremors wracking your body.

Dazai never failed to be the first one in the cafe, even before it opens. Not a single morning would pass without him there. How he gets in you'll never know. The door is still locked and it doesn't seem like he broke anything to get in. You set up for the day, not sparing him another glance. He doesn't speak anyways.

You quickly make him a coffee.

"Thanks."

You don't respond, turning away and cleaning up. Soon, customers will start pouring in. Dazai will be gone by then.

"I miss you."

Your chest tightens and your eyes start to sting. It never seems to get easier.

"Please leave, Dazai."

"No. You need to hear this. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I cant concentrate on my work. Please... You don't have to be upset at me, just imagine I'm someone else, it's fine!"

Why did he have to be so difficult to be with? Part of you wanted to just give in. To feel him close to you. But you couldn't forgive him for something like this so easily.

"Dazai... don't make this harder than it has to be... please..."

When you glance up at him, you notice the small teardrops clinging to his eyelashes. It's a pathetic display of vulnerability- something he would never allow himself to do in front of anyone else. He sees you viewing his pitiful state, hurriedly turning away, hiding his face from sight. It's odd that a man who has been begging you every day to get back together with him, begging you to believe that he'll change, still refuses to be open with you.

"I have to go."

Before you can protest, he's gone. He, of course, leaves an absurdly large tip.

The rest of your shift isn't much better. You were already having an awful day, full of overthinking and longing- but angry business men in a rush to get to their office jobs also had to add onto the pressure. Hopefully they don't notice that you spit in their coffee.

At the end of a long eight hours, your coworker eventually comes to relieve you. As they take over, you clock out and start your journey home. Interestingly, nothing had changed since Dazai and you broke up. The people in public still avoided your gaze, and you altogether.By this point it was obvious they only did that because of your ex-boyfriend. But is it really still necessary? You're not together anymore.

Atsushi's gaze is piercing. He's likely been watching you all day, even when Dazai was with you. His footsteps behind you grew heavier and heavier. He must be tired. A wave of remorse hits you like a tsunami. Your chest throbs painfully for him. You should probably make it up to him- it can't be easy working for Dazai.

Without a second thought you turn around, ready to offer Atsushi a bottle of water at the very least. But what you’re met with isn't the familiar face and uneven bangs of Atsushi. Instead, it's a tall man, completely dressed in black pants and a black hoodie, face shrouded in darkness. Your heart stops. Cautiously, you step back. It's like you're drowning and unable to breathe- water impeding your ability to scream and call for help. What?? Who is this? Where's Atsushi?

"W-who are you?"

The dryness in your mouth and throat make it hard to form proper words. Instead of responding, the man springs forward, arms reaching out to grab you. Instinctively, you try to run, but your legs feel heavy. They won't move no matter how much you try. Strong hands restrain your movements and pull you against him. His nails dig into your waist and arm, making you cry out in pain.

In a frenzy, you try anything you can to at least run- kicking and screaming. With everyone on the street avoiding you, there's no one noticing what's happening. They're all gone. It's just you and the strange man. It's an impossible feat. He's bigger, stronger, taller. Without delay, he holds up an old white rag to your nose and mouth. The last thing your mind recognizes before your vision goes black, is the syrupy scent practically gushing from the cloth.

—

Your eyes flutter open, vision hazy, head inflamed. Your body is completely covered in a cold sweat and begging at you to go back to sleep. Metal chains hinder your ability to move. The solid wood bars of the chair dig into you cruelly. Adjusting your posture only makes the wrists tied behind you pull against your bonds more- you are sure your bones are going to break.

It's impossible to escape. Everything around you is dark, you couldn't see your hand waving in front of your own face if it was free. A constant ear splitting vibration resonates in your head. Where are you? What's going on?

"Ahh... you're finally awake."

A deep voice speaks up from behind, startling you. A fist clamps onto your hair, pulling back brutally. Your scalp was burning.

"Ahh! That hurts!"

The man chuckles, letting go of your hair and putting his large hands on your shoulders.

"Now... Since you're awake, we can get started."

You can hear the sound of his heavy boots slamming against the floor, stopping in front of you. The gleam of his bright phone screen stings your eyes. His face is now visible to you- illuminated by the fluorescent light. He looks dirty. There's muck stuck in the crevices of his wrinkles. An unevenly shaven beard has left behind a green-hued 5 o'clock shadow over the lower half of his face and red inflamed ingrown hairs. A thick layer of oil covers his skin, sealing the filth and grime between his skin and itself.

It's like a bucket of cold water is poured over you. Your muscles seize, freezing, unable to move. But at the same time, your body is trembling- as if expecting something. Why are you here? Is he planning to... No. You shouldn't even think of that.

"Just sit there and look pretty for me okay?"

He raises his phone. The man is pointing the camera towards you, flash on, his grimey hand coming up to graze your chin. He doesn't even speak to you, instead he decides to address the camera recording.

"See what I got here?"

He tightens his clutch on your face.

"If you don't get me 300,000,000 yen by tomorrow at 6 pm, I'll make sure you never see them again... alive, at least."

The man lets go of your cheeks, alternatively opting to bring down his open palm on your face. A gasp emerges from your lungs. Your cheek stings and burns. The blood rushes to your face, overheating your skin. Your jaw clenches. A scorching heat travels down your body. Anger makes your blood boil. You couldn't do anything if you tried at this point. If you could just get out....

"Fuck you. I'll get out of here soon.. and I'm going to kill you."

He howls. As if it was just a silly joke.

"You really think you can do that huh?"

The man's face twists, like he just tasted something bitter. He knees you right in the stomach. You double over. Air rushes out of your lungs, they throb and heave- yearning for another breath. White spots dance in your vision. He ignores your cries of agony.

"You have until tomorrow. Osamu."

He spits out that name. The dirty man pulls your head back, recording the miserable look on your face for his camera before he shuts his phone off and slips it into his pocket again. The noise of his steps fades away. The hinges of the door creak and echo through the empty room. You once again are left in the shadows. Deserted.

So that's what this was about. That bandaged asshole. Resentment and outrage fills your entire being. If he had never gotten involved with you, this never would have happened. It's all his fault. You could never forgive him.

Time flows by slowly. The things you see, the things you hear, become hazy. A tide of seclusion rushes in, polluting the little cognizance you have. The edges of your memory blurr and muddy. All that is left is the bitter taste in your mouth. The ire towards that man. That man who could have avoided this if he just never came into the cafe.

Your head hangs low, unable to hold itself up from the weight. Wood chips invade the space under your nails as you scratch at the arms of the chair. They poke at your sensitive nail beds, drawing out small droplets of blood. Saliva could no longer soothe the cracking of your dry lips. The taste of iron in your mouth was sickening. Every muscle in your body is sore.

In the distance, a faint buzz of excitement tears through the deafening silence. They must be thrilled. It's a lot of money to squeeze out of the boss of the port mafia. It must have taken a lot of planning. The noise becomes stronger and louder. As you pick your head up, your ears can discern the muffled sounds of screaming. There's loud banging against metal, creating a sort of disorienting wobbly noise. You flinch as there's an intense explosion, followed by gunshots. Your entire being vibrates with the force of the blast.

After a few minutes, the thundering clamor vanishes, leaving behind an eerie tranquility. Is everyone gone? Did they leave you here alone? To starve? Eyes darting around the room, you try to find anything you could use to break out, but the room you were currently held captive in is too dim. You're practically stuck in a black hole- consuming everything around it, all light and sound, letting nothing evade its unforgiving clasp.

Heavy steel chains clatter noisily. Your head whips around to look towards the source of the sound. A piercing ring and clash resonates through the room. Soft leather crashes against the concrete floor before stopping right in front of you. Freezing, slender fingers brush against your jaw. It's... familiar. You could recognize that bandaged hand anywhere.

"D-Dazai...?"

Searing hot agony spreads down your throat. You could barely recognize your own voice. They had given you no food, no water, no mercy. A deep voice hums softly.

"Yes.. It's me, I came for you."

Fury and panic stop you in your place. Your heart feels like it's jumped into your throat. He's here. His nimble fingers are undoing your restraints, he's helping- but you can't help wanting him to get as far away from you as possible. He's the reason you're here to begin with. Unfortunately, your body won't let you fight back. Uncontrollable shocks attack your nerves- your skin feels raw and delicate, on the verge of splitting.

"Get a-away from me.. I-I can handle myself."

"Shhhh."

Boney hands reach out for you. He gently reaches out for you, lifting you up with no problem, and pressing your chest against his.

"Relax... you're okay now."

The hardness of his body isn't even uncomfortable. It's... calming. You don't even realize when your eyes slowly flutter shut, shutting out the world, cascading into a tranquil slumber.

—

Only aching pains and drowsiness registers in your mind. The sun is too bright in your eyes, and it's far too cold in this room. Actually... where are you even? You whip your head around, puzzled. There's red silk curtains draping down the floor-to-ceiling windows, and lavish persian rugs. Everything was luxuriously decorated in reds and black- only the highest quality fabrics and furnishing were allowed.

You rip off the fluffy warm sheets. Freezing cold air rushes towards you, attacking your body and etching goosebumps onto your skin. The sensation of spines pricking at the soles of your feet when you step onto black tiles is agonizing. Your legs tremble with effort- carrying you out of the lush bedroom and into the large, just as extravagant living room. Dazai lives like a king.

Dazai is sitting silently on the couch. He's leaning forward with his hands clasped under his chin. As soon as the door opens, his head whirls around.

"You're awake."

He stands, running over to you and helping you over to the sofa.

"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

The bandaged man tries to sit next to you, invading your personal space. but you scoot further down.

"I'm fine. I don't need your help."

The hopeful look in his eye dims.

"Honey-"

"Don't call me that. You lost the privilege to call me that the moment you lied to me."

An anguished, guttural noise spills out of his lips.

"Look... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied, but I saved you didnt i? I care about you. I didn't mean for you to get involved like this. I have a lot of enemies and i know i shouldn't have kept things from you-"

"So you admit you were a horrible, deceptive boyfriend?"

His skin is flushed, hands shaking and fumbling- he's clearly frustrated. He scurries closer. A slim thigh presses against yours, his bandaged hands dart out to grasp yours. His touch is frigid, but somehow it makes a heated feeling develop in the pit of your stomach. You can't deny that you're still attracted to him.

"Yes. I know I was, but I love you... We don't even have to date anymore i just- "

He stumbles over his words. A breath catches in his throat.

"I just want you in my life."

Your brain is spinning. You don't know what to do or say.

"I need time to think-"

"That's fine."

Dazai answers immediately- far too eager.

"I'll wait however long I need to. For you."

The delighted expression on his face sends a pleased trickle down your vertebrae. You almost wanted to believe him. Your skin tingles where he's touching you. It's been much too long since you were this close.

Questions you had been pondering for your entire stay pop into your head again. He must know right?

"If you're truly sorry, prove it. The people who took me... Who were they? What happened to them?"

Surprise flashes in his eyes.

"You want to know about them? huh... Well, they were just a small-time gang. Nothing special. And we did with them what we do to all people who oppose us."

Your blood freezes.

"You killed them."

He nods. There's a hardness in his eyes- a deep, dark look. He clearly doesn't regret it.

"I had to... I can't let them get away with something like that, especially not if it's you."

Despite the heavy sensation in your stomach, you're glad. It's horrible, it makes a guilty feeling settle into your bones. You shouldn't be glad someones dead. But what they did was heinous. It's a relief to know they can ever do that again. That Dazai crushed them with all the power of the Port Mafia behind him.

The organization was a hurricane, destroying everything in its path that dared to challenge it. Nothing would be left if they could help it. Everything would bend to their will, whether they want to or not. Everyone in Yokohama knew about it. How that tiny gang figured they could get the boss to fold, was beyond you.

"Are you upset about it? It's not the most savory method... I know you don't like unnecessary violence, but to me it was crucial."

You nod.

"I get it. To be honest, I'm glad."

His lips curl up into a creepy grin. He's clearly not used to smiling but it looks... cute. Unnatural, but cute. You can't help but smile back.

"What about Atsushi? He's not in trouble is he?"

Dazai chuckles.

"No he's not. The only reason he wasnt there is because I called him into my office. Any other time, he would have fought those guys off himself."

"Good. I feel bad for the kid. He has to deal with you."

"Hey! I'm a pretty easy going boss!"

You roll your eyes, waving him off.

"Whatever you say."

His skin is brighter. It doesn't seem to have that dull, gray tone any more. The gauze that used to cover even his fingers, has receded back down to his wrists. Redness paints the fragile skin of his pale knuckles. He stands up, putting his hands on his hips.

"Did you want something to eat? Drink? You must be tired."

"Some coffee is fine. I feel like I'm going to collapse from exhaustion."

He races to the kitchen, like his life depends on it- way too excited for something like making coffee. Never in your career as a barista had you been that excited to serve customers. Within a few minutes, he's back. A cafe latte stares back at you when it's placed on the table. Your favorite, and he knew it. You beam at him.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you."

He's always too greedy for any sort of affection. Too eager to please. Dazai was almost like a child sometimes. A child that had never felt the warm embrace of a lover. Who would forever yearn for more. To pine for someone, anyone to keep him company. It was obvious from the moment he begged you to stay with him just a month ago. It almost made you feel.. pity for him.

A part of you still loved him. He's not easy to forget. Does he even have any friends? Your thoughts are swirling. It's dizzying. You don't know what to do. Maybe it would be best to try again...

Bringing the mug up to your lips, you take a sip. Your tongue burns from the freshly made coffee. It's pleasant.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's smoother, not so sour. It's way better than last time. Did you practice?"

He nods enthusiastically.

"I wanted to win you over... so I was practicing a lot while we were apart."

That makes you stop in your tracks. It's so sweet but so disheartening to hear. Was all he did the past month simply working towards the goal of getting you back?

"Really?"

"Yes. I was serious. I can't live without you."

You sigh, putting the mug back down.

"Dazai... You can't just revolve your entire life around me. It's not healthy."

He sits right next to you. Personal space is a foreign concept in Dazais mind- he does what he wants, and what he wants now is to drape himself over you, to feel your body against his.

"I know. I can't help it. You're everything to me. I've ever met anyone like you."

"You really feel that way?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

He was crazy. He was definitely completely insane. But he looked so angelic. It shouldn't be possible. If anything, he would be a demon. Something evil that can only be found in the deepest pits of hell. But here, where he's being so genuine and honest for the first time, he's heaven sent.

Without noticing, your face starts leaning closer to his. What would his lips feel like on yours? Would it be the same as last time? You can't turn away from him- your eyes are locked on his moistened lips. Dazai was the same. His eyes darted down, longing for you. a gasp catches in your throat. Anticipation fills your whole body. Time seems to stop. His breath brushes over your skin.

He closes the distance. It's as if he's consuming your entire being. Taking you all for himself. It's difficult to not get completely swept up in him. You thrust yourself against him, deepening the kiss. He responds positively, hands tangling in your hair, practically trying to possess you- mind and body.

When you pull away, craving fresh air, Dazai pulls your right back in. He's greedy. Selfish. He can't stand to go on another second without you by his side. After a minute of him trying to kill you by asphyxiation, Dazai finally manages to feel satiated enough to tear himself from you. Your lungs are on fire, begging for air. He isn't much better- if the heavy breathing and flushed skin is anything to go by.

"So... you'll stay...?"

His inflection is higher than usual, hopeful of what's to come.

"Sure… I'll stay."

[infrequent-creator]

A Little Assistance ~

Summary - Vox needs a little help so he calls his assistant up to take care of his need.

A/N: I don't believe vox's assistant has a name so I'm gonna have Vox call him the name "Sharkbait" 🤭((Also Cutie, Baby boy & various other teasy nicknames))

<3

"Ah- fucking shit! Owowowow!" Vox cursed under his breath. He has spilled coffee on the floor around his chair on the wiring that surrounded his seats.

While they weren't parts of his body, he still was connected to them, like the roots on a tree. So when things happened to them like being stepped on or burned with hot coffee, it does hurt him a bit. He sighed looking around somewhat urgently for something to wipe up the now cooled sticky liquid off his attachment cords.

Nothing... damnit.

He signed, pinching the bridge of where his nose would be. He looked down at his wrist, pressing a button.

Ring...Ring...Ri-

"H-Hello.. Mr. Vox, S-Sir, do you need me?" The face of his personal assistant Sharkbait popping up on the small screen. Stammering like always. Always looking a little flustered in a way that Vox couldn't help but find adorable. He cleared his throat from the distracting thought.

"Yes of course. Why else would I call you?"

"O-Oh I'm sorry S-Sir I didn't mean--" the shark stammered out an apology before Vox cut him off.

"Stop, I don't have all day. Bring some papertowels and warm water to my production room. A cup of coffee spilled on my wiring." He brushed off the lad's apology, trying to get this icky feeling off his wiring fast.

"R-Right! Yes sir!" With that, Vox hung up. He sighed again.

~

A minute or so passes before there's a knock at Vox's door. He waves his hand, an electric current hitting the door 's button panel, causing it to slide open for his guest. There he was. Sharkbait carrying a cloth & a small bucket with water. His feet moving quickly as his king tail swished behind him.

"Bout time you showed up, I'm sticky as hell over here." The overlord groaned as the annoying feeling on his cables. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"R-Right, yes Sir, I'm so sorry." He nodded quickly, kneeling beside Vox's chair. He dipped the cloth in the water a little, squeezing it to get the extra water out, then began making quick work of the dark brown coffee stains.

Vox could feel his touches just a little, they felt faint but it almost felt good. Like getting a head massage almost. Vox leaned back in a sigh, his back resting completely against the chair as he relaxed. His light blue claws tapping, gently and rhythmically as the cleaning continued.

After a moment, Vox noticed something thumping gently against his leg. Also some quiet mumbling from Sharkbait. The TV man opened his eyes to see Sharkbait's tail was the thing gently hitting Vox's leg like a happy dog. The sharkboy's were locked on the floor as he mumbled to himself.

"Now, tell me Sharkbait, what are you mumbling about? Are you perhaps embarrassed that you have to clean up my mess?" Vox's hand slowly reaches down toward's his assistant's tail. The young man turned, opening his mouth to deny his boss's words but a gasp was ripped from his chest before he got the chance.

"Or are you embarrassed that this cute little tail is giving you away?~" Vox's hand quickly took the tail in his hand before it could wiggle away with his assistant's movement. The TV's voice purred as he gently held the tail on his lap, petting it slowly. He could still feel the muscle wanting to still wag even now.

"M-Misteheher V-Vohox! Please be c-cahahreful!" The shark demon quickly broke into anxious bubbly giggles, dropping the cloth to reach for his tail slowly.

"Careful? I am being careful. You think I'd hurt my cute little assistant's tail? What do you take me for, a monster?" Vox looked down at him with an eyebrow arched, a wicked grin spread across his screen.

"N-Nohohohoho! S-Sihihir my tail ihihis sensa-AHAha!" The adorable creature now on his side, curled up like a cat, kicking his feet in laughter.

"Aw is this tail sensitive, little pup? How cute~" Vox's claws now raking gently downward towards the end of his tail.

Sharkbait's face explodes into bright blue blush as he hid his face behind his hands, squealing and gently tugging on his tail. Vox decided his poor little tail had had enough, but the rest of him? Not a chance~

While Sharkbait wasn't looking, the overlord grabbed his little pup around the waist , guiding him onto his lap. The older demon's fingers touching from the slenderness of his assistant's waist.

The tv man snapped his fingers , making a wire slither to life, wrapping around his assistant's wrists holding them above his head, causing him to yelp. He was truly helpless and exposed right now.

"Cute little giggles you got there, pup. Let's see what happens when I use my claws here~" Vox's bright blue claws gently scratched at Sharkbait's sides and tummy at the same time.

The media demon's fingers leaving no spot on his middle untickled , making the little shark squeal, snort, and laugh. The little shark holding nothing back. He couldn't see it, but Vox was smiling at him.

"So cute~" Vox thought, letting his gentle tickles continue. He's always grateful for his little assistant.

END !

[jaemskitty]

Agora Hills — N.JM & you

wc: corruption kink | sexo violento | leitora virgem | muitos "inhos" e "inhas" | age gap (dentro da lei) | dilf!jaemin | virgin kink (?) | size kink (too much) | dumbfication | deve ter mais coisas, porém é isso :D

gênero: smut e somente smut

n/a: olá, tudo bem? é basicamente minha estreia aqui depois de muito tempo, então minha escrita tá, no mínimo, enferrujada então peço perdão antes de tudo por tudo e qualquer coisa :) <3 bjocas e boa leitura. NÃO DEIXE DE LER OS AVISOS!

Na Jaemin. O que falar sobre Na Jaemin? Bom, desde que entendia-se por gente ouvia esse nome e via esse homem pelos corredores de sua grande casa. Era o melhor amigo do seu pai e você cresceu os ouvindo falar sobre negócios e negociações. Cresceu os vendo viajar juntos para cada lugar dos quatro cantos desse mundo em busca de algo como..Fechar contratos? Não sabia muito bem, nunca dava a mínima na verdade.

O que sabia era que aquele homem sempre roubava seu pai, Lee Jeno, de pertinho de você. Poxa, ficava tão tristinha...Seu pai sempre tão ausente, sempre um "depois eu vejo, minha princesa" para todas as suas cartinhas feitas a mão na escolinha. Suspirava e saía para chorar até a pontinha do nariz ficar avermelhada de tanto fungar.

Só queria atenção.

Todavia fora crescendo e Jaemin continuava ali. Alguma coisa mudou. Mudou porque seu pai sempre foi acostumado a lhe corresponder de longe, mas Na Jaemin parecia sempre corresponder de perto. Ele parecia sempre por perto, sempre nos momentos certos, nas horas certas...Era tão suspeito, mas você era tão bobinha.

Bobinha. Era isso que talvez chamasse atenção do homem. Na verdade era sim, Jaemin já havia assumido a si mesmo o desvio de caráter que tinha ao desejar cegamente a filhinha de seu melhor amigo. Só não aceitava, mas você era tão linda, tão dócil e ultimamente vinha o buscando mais do que o que costumava. Jaemin também não ficava impune nessa, sempre se martirizava ao te buscar pra qualquer pretexto que fosse, só pra te ver toda lindinha em seu quarto cor de rosa. E você ficava linda nesses tons. Queria perdidamente te arruinar.

Ele queria tanto manchar esses tons de rosa bebe.

Você também não entendia nem um pouco essa necessidade que sentia da aprovação de Na Jaemin, não entendia o porque de seu corpinho pedir a presença dele 24/7 nem que fosse pra um mínimo sorriso ou boa noite sussurrado quando você passava por ele e seu pai na sala de estar, pronta e vestidinha para encontrar suas amigas de cursinho.

Na verdade não entendia nadinha sobre o que seu corpo sentia com um mísero olhar do homem mais velho sobre seu corpinho vestido e enfeitado de laços cintilantes. Era um frio que vinha da espinha e esbarrava entre suas perninhas. Corava porque desconhecia.

As vezes chegava a suspirar.

Nossa, era um sentimento tão ruinzinho quando alguma de suas amigas atrevidas perguntava mais sobre aquele homem tomando uísque na sala de sua casa ao lado de seu pai.

Como acontecia exatamente agora.

— O que vocês acham que eles estão conversando? parece tãao chato, mas ele é tão atraente...não acha, ____?

Era Yeri quem falava pelos cotovelos e você sem perceber já tava' carrancuda, respirando fundo com o queixo descasando contra a palma da mãozinha cheirando a hidratante de morangos.

— Eles estão sempre falando das mesmas coisas...E ele é um chato. — você falou baixinho, revirando os olhos e virando o rostinho em direção a grande janela de vidro que exibia a perfeita visão de seu pai e Jaemin naquela enorme sala com iluminação amarelada.

Seu corpo quase tiltou quando os olhos ambíguos do homem encontraram os seus tão rasos e indefesos. Não soube como sair daquele looping, somente quando Dahyun a cotucou.

— Meu Deus, ele tá olhando! Será que percebeu a nossa conversa? — ela parecia muito eufórica e antes que você desviasse assustada viu o Na sorrir lentamente, sacana demais enquanto levava o copo de uísque aos lábios bonitos.

Sua barriga deu um nó. Um nó gostoso. Aquela porra daquela sensação deliciosamente desesperadora.

O que poderia fazer a respeito? Não sabia, vivia aquele drama diariamente. Aquela maldita sensação melecada entre as perninhas e era sempre um alívio – ou quase – quando esfregava elas uma na outra em sua cama quentinha durante a madrugada.

E se perguntou de repente em pensamentos se o Na sentia a mesma coisa, ou se estava ficando maluca... Coisa assim. Ele nunca perceberia uma pirralha como você, mas e se talvez perguntasse? Não era uma má ideia, era? Inferno, você era tão ingênua.

Yeri estalou os dedos na frente de seu rosto e você então acordou do transe novamente, aflita sorriu para a amiga e viu que talvez já não estivesse bem para estar naquela grande varanda a noite com suas amigas.

— Alô? Amiga, tá' tudo bem? Tipo, seu pai acabou de sair daqui às pressas e você nem notou...— Yeri relatou apontando para a Ferrari de seu pai que já fazia toda a manobra para sair daquele grande terreno de sua casa.

— T-tá tudo bem, sim... Meninas, eu vou precisar entrar...P-preciso fazer algumas coisas do meu trabalho individual do curso...— não havia desculpa melhor naquele instante, sua cabeça estava um pouco sobrecarregada. Seu corpinho tava' sobrecarregado.

.

— Onde ele foi? – no fundo você sabia bem onde Lee Jeno havia ido e com toda certeza era algum caso, como de costume. Lembra-se bem do dia em que sua mamãe a deixou por conta disso e ela não pensou duas vezes e sequer olhou para trás. Sentia-se tão sozinha.

O Na então deixou o copo de vidro sobre a mesinha de centro onde também havia muito material de trabalho, papeladas e tudo mais. Por trás do grande sofá você o olhou nos olhos, aqueles olhos intensos e preguiçosos. Aquela sensação toda correndo por cada lugarzinho do seu corpo. Apertou o estofado entre os dedinhos e esperou uma resposta, mas tudo o que recebeu fora o homem mais velho batendo de levinho ao seu lado no sofá. Você travou tentando saber se era realmente aquilo que havia entendido, pois poucas as vezes havia estado tão pertinho dele.

Mordeu o lábio e esperou uma confirmação, essa que veio até mais rápido que o esperado.

— Vem aqui, lindinha, vem... Senta aqui, eu não mordo, você sabe... — havia algo sobre aquilo que não te cheirava bem e talvez fosse a maneira que entre suas perninhas latejava ou como sua nuca arrepiou, mas resolveu ignorar e caminhar quase que receosamente até onde o Na indicou.

A voz dele lhe atormentava noites a fio. Tudo sobre ele. Tudo sobre ele pairava na sua cabecinha de uma forma que talvez já fosse o estopim.

Engoliu em seco e sentou-se ao lado dele. Os pezinhos com meias soquete estavam no ar devido ao seu minúsculo tamanho e percebeu isso porque se sentiu tão reduta ao lado dele, principalmente quando ele te mirou. O cheiro dele te deixou um pouco tonta, então encostou-se no assento fofinho com aqueles olhinhos de boneca brilhantes em direção ao mesmo. Aquele homem ficaria louco e no laudo estaria escrito seu belo nome.

E não, não era somente você...Jaemin só queria te por no colo e foder cada cantinho do seu corpo jovial. Sua aura virginal o enlouquecia e ele tinha certeza que ver você corada e choramingando entre gemidos seria demais para ele.

Mordeu a boquinha coberta de gloss de cerejas e mirou o rosto do homem ao seu lado, balançando as perninhas você suspirou lentinho descendo por toda a feição rígida de Jaemin...Desde aquelas sobrancelhas harmoniosas até o pomo-de-adão ressaltado.

— Onde está o papai...? — sua voz era baixinha, quase lacrimando e não sabia se de tesão ou de carência. Talvez ambos. Queria tanto saber que sabor teria a boca daquele a sua frente e ficou como uma pimenta, avermelhada, somente em cogitar selar os lábios do melhor amigo de seu pai, então teve que – por impulso – desviar rapidamente, mirando as próprias coxas sob a sainha plissada e reparando o quão prensadas elas pareciam.

Jaemin percebera, ele sabia... Ele sabia de absolutamente tudo. Ele sempre soube, pois você era burrinha, era burrinha e descuidada...Sempre mordendo os lábios ou com aquelas perninhas esfregando uma na outra e ele se perguntou qual sabor seu melzinho teria. Puta merda, ele jurou que poderia ficar louco. Sua mente era seu maior martírio e ele estava pertinho de pedir arrego como um covarde. Ou não, veja bem...ele tentou por tanto tempo.

Jaemin era um homem podre por te querer tanto assim? Por querer te fazer choramingar enquanto acostuma como seu pau grosso indo tão fundo? Por Deus, ele só queria te ouvir implorar para ter calma. Fechou o punho e passou a mão desde o rosto até os cabelos, cansado ele afrouxou a gravata e isso não passou despercebido sob seus olhinhos.

A tensão era palpável e qualquer um perceberia a metros de distância.

— Seu pai precisou sair e bom, como sempre somos eu e você, pirralha.

A voz rouca lhe fez apertar ainda mais as coxas miúdas e ele assistia tudo se perguntando até onde iria sua conduta e de como Jeno repetiu inúmeras vezes um "cuida da minha menina"...Pois bem, ele cuidaria muito bem.

Engoliu porque já esperava aquela resposta, mas não esperava o que viria a seguir dela;

— Vamos dar uma volta? Comer alguma coisa, hm? — ele sugeriu tirando alguns fios de cabelo de cima do seu gloss, pondo atrás de sua delicada orelha. Seu coração parecia que iria explodir dentro do peito e seus olhinhos miraram aquele cuidado.

— Eu e você, senhor Na? — ele sorriu tão próximo ouvindo aquilo sair de sua boquinha.

— Você e eu. — ele assentiu devagar quase bêbado.

.

Eram por volta das duas da manhã e você estava dentro do carro importado de Na Jaemin em um rumo que sequer conhecia. Ele era bonito em absolutamente tudo o que fazia, mas dirigindo havia lhe feito quase explodir com aquelas sensações conflitantes. Algo sobre a madrugada ao lado de Na Jaemin enquanto comia seu fast food no banco do carona.

Era folgada apesar de tudo, folgada e abusada e provocava aquele homem de formas indiretas, quase inocente. Jaemin tinha a paciência de um monge e já poderia subir aos céus somente pela sua resistência dos deuses aquele corpinho jovial que pedia uma surra de pica. Ele estava por um fio e suas perninhas jogadas ali na visão do homem enquanto seus pezinhos ainda de meias descansavam preguiçosos sobre o painel de seu carro não ajudava tanto assim em sua sanidade.

Porra, quem ele queria enganar? Valia a pena perder Jeno e sua amizade de longa data a troco de comer sua filha? Valia.

As ruas estavam calmas, os sinais vermelhos eram ultrapassados e você sorria encantada por isso pois, talvez, aquilo fosse a coisa mais ilegal que já havia feito em 19 anos de sua vida. Seu centro não parava de latejar um instante, nem o frio daquela noite era o suficiente para a quentura que sentia perto de Na Jaemin.

— Senhor Na? — sussurrou audível e balançou uma perninha para lá e para cá sem se importar se estava de saia ou não pois seu corpinho pedia e te guiava aquele comportamento devasso perto do homem.

Era inexplicável e ele percebia isso.

— uh? — ele perguntou em um grunhido, observando a rua com aquela camisa meio aberta no peitoral marcado e você quase esquecera o que queria perguntar.

— Senhora Na, o senhor já é bem vivido, não é? — perguntou docilmente ingênua e aquilo deixou o homem em um estado sorridente e quase em êxtase.

Sua ingenuidade o deixava de pau duro, era essa a verdade. Duro. Duro pra caralho. pronto para afundar e fazer um estrago em seu pequeno corpo e ele se perguntava se você aguentaria aquilo tudo. Era perversa, a mente de Na Jaemin era perversa.

Ele apenas assentiu ainda guiando o carro pelas avenidas de Agora Hills na maior tranquilidade do mundo – pelo menos por fora.

— E-eu tenho uma dúvida e...Bom, eu não tenho ninguém...— e percebeu que era mais solitária do que imaginava.

Então ele te olhou depois de tanto evitar e não podia mentir para si mesmo que você daquele jeito tão exposto não tava' o deixando quase de bolas azuis. Por qual razão tinha que parecer tão errado? Ele era mais velho, bem mais velho mas e daí?

— Pode falar, pirralha...o Nana pode tentar te ajudar, você sabe que sim...

E não haveria outro momento ou outra forma. Era algo normal, não era? Seu tesão fodido por aquele homem.

— Nana, o que é-... bom... eu não sei, sinto algo estranho quando t-tô com o senhor e-...

O homem freou calmamente, mas por dentro ele estava em uma euforia inexplicável.

— Estranho? — e você assentiu. — Estranho como, lindinha? Diz pro nana o que você sente e como sente, diz...

Você ainda segurava o milkshake mas não consumia, fechou então as perninhas e pressionou o quando pôde buscando alívio pra aquela sensação que só piorava. Os olhinhos aguados mirou o homem mais velho ao seu lado. Jaemin observando tudo tocou ali, tocou sua coxa de forma cínica, te encorajando.

— Formigando... As vezes lateja e eu não sei como fazer isso passar, Nana! entre as minhas perninhas... e todas as noites eu sinto isso... então eu fecho elas e procuro algum alívio...alguma coisa...q-qualquer coisa, senhor n-na... — apertou o milshake nas mãozinhas bem cuidadas e mirou a rua vazia. Seu peito subia e descia tão rudemente e não sabia como controlar, mas também não havia tanto pudor afinal era um universo de coisas sujas que não conhecia nem a pontinha do iceberg.

Jaemin mirou-te devagar, perspicaz pois cada passo a seguir poderia ser incerto, porque no fundo no fundo Jaemin não era um completo filho da puta, ele sabia que aquilo não era moralmente correto apesar de sua maioridade. Meu deus, você era apenas uma boneca. Uma bonequinha...E ele estava duro. Engoliu em seco e em um silencio torturante guiou o carro outra vez, em uma velocidade absurda.

Sua adrenalina estava a mil e se perguntava se havia sido uma boa ideia ter exposto aquilo, por mais curiosa que fosse poderia ter guardado um pouco mais para si. Algo sobre a expressão rigidamente seria do Na te deixava apreensiva, apreensiva e ainda mais meladinha ali. Ele estava indo de volta a sua casa, conhecia o caminho.

— S-senhor Na...fala alguma coisa, e-eu...— procurou formular alguma coisa, e quando ele fizera a curva para sua residência tocou sua perna novamente, então a diferença de tamanhos ficou mais aparente e aquelas coisas crescendo cada vez mais dentro de si.

Jaemin mirou suas coxas macias e pensou o quão sua mão poderia marcar aquela pele bonita, doce e virgem. Seu cacete marcava na calça social e você percebeu, corada pelas inumeras sensações se perguntou o que estava acontecendo. O que em si havia o deixado daquela maneira.

Doía tanto nele quanto doía em você?

O milkshake havia perdido o sabor, a noite parecia ainda mais fria tendo em consideração seu corpinho febril e só queria que aquela tortura passasse. Queria respostas. Queria resoluções. Queria Na Jaemin. Queria beijá-lo e...queria tantas coisas que seu corpinho pedia. Queria atar um nó aquele homem. Queria expor a cada amiga sua o quão aquele homem poderia ser seu. Chegava a suspirar...

E Na Jaemin queria você, porra como ele queria...

Queria exibir você tanto quanto você queria.

A boneca dele. A bonequinha de Na Jaemin.

E ele iria. Foda-se, ele iria.

Jaemin estacionou o carro em um solavanco e você segurou-se o mirando curiosamente amedrontada. Antes que pudesse questionar ele havia saído e dado a volta, estourando a camisa nos antebraços abriu a porta do passageiro te puxando pelo bracinho deixando ali a primeira marca do dia. Praticamente te arrastou para dentro de casa e seu corpo arrepiava incompreendida se de frio ou...por aquilo. Não relutou, apenas balbuciou algumas coisas que nem você mesma estava ouvindo. Tinha o irritado? Por qual motivo aquilo te excitava tanto?

Ele era tão forte. Só deu por si quando Jaemin subiu as escadas até o seu quarto onde a fez sentar-se na cama e sentir-se tão miúda diante de tanta fúria.

Daquela posição poderia ver todo o corpo forte do Na, e meu Deus ele era perfeito. O peitoral marcado em uma formosa harmonia com seus braços enormes que chegava a apertar o tecido da camisa social... Os antebraços a mostra e as veias correndo até suas mãos e logo ali embaixo a calça preta marcava o pau grande e fodidamente duro.

Se pegou suspirando alto e os olhinhos presos ali naquela protuberância; esfregou as coxas e então mirou o homem nos olhos novamente. Tão linda, você era tão linda, tão miúda, tão perfeita...Jaemin iria acabar com você e sentia dó.

— Mostra pra' mim como você se alivia, mostra...— ele então ditou rouco, a voz embebida de tesão. Os dedos foram até a própria camisa, abrindo com uma pressa controlada. — Mostra pro Nana, boneca...

Você engoliu o que parecia espinhos e corada prensou as coxas uma na outra, esfregando devagar e precisa enquanto suspirava e mirava o homem ali em pé lhe observando quebrar, derreter, despedaçar a olho nu. Totalmente exposta e por mais que não conhecesse nada do universo adulto sentia que aquilo era humilhante, no mínimo, mas a deixava mais molhada, a deixava mais afoita por um atrito que fosse na sua bucetinha pois somente suas coxas esfregando não era mais suficiente.

Mordeu o lábio e faltou soluçar, os olhinhos já formando lágrimas prazerosas e de puro desespero. Jaemin franziu o cenho ao abrir a camisa inteira, nunca tirando os olhos dos seus. Nunca deixando de reparar em como você era burrinha e não conhecia o próprio corpinho. Ele sentiu dó de imaginar como você se aliviava, porque àquilo não parecia surtir efeito algum.

Você esfregava e esfregava, apertava e apertava. os pezinhos roçando devido ao atrito e aquelas malditas meias ainda estavam ali. Jaemin viu a primeira lágrima escorrer de seus lindos olhinhos quando ele tocou a fivela do cinto e desfez. Segurou um próprio grunhido e apertou o cacete entre os dedos ao te ver desesperada.

Desespero era sim uma boa palavra.

— N-nana...! — suplicou baixinho e o soluço finalmente saiu. se você estava devastada com absolutamente nada, quem dirá quando ele te tocasse de verdade. — N-nana me a-ajuda...e-eu... meu D-deus...Nana faz i-isso passar...

Era muito tesão para alguém tão compacta. Ele sorriu maldoso te vendo desmoronar e sentiu que precisava de mais...

— É assim que se alivia pensando em mim? — você apenas assentiu e ele já estava com a calça social aberta.

Jaemin não era macio e infelizmente não era agora que iria ser. Ele tinha um carinho especial por ti, talvez até amasse, mas a sua imundicie sobressaia afinal ele fantasiava sobre como te destruir seria prazeroso. Porra, como ele sonhava...e estava literalmente acontecendo.

Sua bucetinha estava tão molhadinha e bem no seu ventre uma contração gostosinha acontecia e então você tocou ali. Nada passava despercebido por Jaemin, seu olhar preguiçoso era perspicaz e matador.

— Porra, você é tão linda, boneca... — a mão do Na tocou sua bochecha e foi quase instintivo virar o rostinho e deixar um beijinho ali, fechando os olhinhos sentiu o cheiro das mãos masculinas, o mirando após sair de sua viagem pessoal.

— Sou a sua boneca, nana? — sua vozinha estava mais manhosa que o normal.

— Sim...uma boneca...linda...perfeita para mim. Vai pra' pertinho das suas pelúcias e deita, hm?

Devagar seu corpinho mexeu-se até ali, associando lentamente cada informação. Deitou a cabeça contra um dos seus grandes ursinhos, sentindo o cheirinho de baunilha das próprias coisas.

Seu quarto era enfeitado em tons pasteis e aquilo estranhamente enlouquecia o homem que agora subia também em sua cama. Aquele contraste imoral estava deixando ambos fora de si, ainda mais quando ele abriu suas perninhas e ficou ali ajoelhado entre estas, suspirando pesado e apertando suas carnes nos dedos grandes e bonitos.

Você era menor ainda quando ele se sobressaia dessa forma, totalmente palpável e nada era dificuldade para Jaemin em seu corpinho.

— Eu vou arruinar você...

— h-hm? — questinou e sentiu a palma da mão quente de Jaemin bem em seu pescoço, bem como um aviso e seu coração errou uma batida.

— Quieta. Shhh...— avisou mirando você tão de perto e aquilo te arrepiou, só nao mais que o beijo que ele lhe dera em seguida.

Puta que pariu, ele realmente havia te beijado.

Jaemin suspirou alto ao te ouviu grunhir tentando acompanhar aquele ósculo. Era tudo completamente novo e tão bom. A língua daquele homem fazia sua bucetinha latejar e seus choramingos a deixava com a passagem totalmente livre para ele te engolir e foder sua boquinha com a língua.

— Cadela...! — Jaemin rosnou contra sua boca e chupou sua linguinha antes mesmo que contestasse, rasgando com facilidade sua blusinha de cetim caro.

O tecido rosa rasgando a assustou, mas foi tão bom quanto aquele xingamento.

A mão do homem saiu de seu pescocinho até sua nuca e a guiou outra vez em mais um beijo molhado, descendo desde seu pequeno lábio até seu colo quente e exposto.

A boca de Jaemin era quente como lava e sentir ele próximo de seus peitinhos estava a deixando ansiosa.

— S-senhor N-na...! — a voz dengosa fez o pau do homem pulsar e uma das mãos agarrar seu peitinho direito com fúria quase machucando, mas era exatamente isso que ele queria.

Não respondera, apenas a olhou e iniciou uma sucção em seu biquinho endurecido. O homem estava nos céus tanto quanto você. Sua boca abriu-se em um gemido perdido e Jaemin poderia jurar que era o paraíso, um combo simplesmente perfeito de mamar em seus peitinhos e te ver suplicando por isso. Seus dedinhos subindo nos cabelos da nuca do homem mais velho ali, quase cobrindo seu corpinho inteiro com o próprio.

— p-por favor...por favor...— Pediu com todo seu ser por mais porque ao mesmo tempo que atiçava seu centro aquilo curava. Era a primeira vez na vida que sentia algo verdadeiro.

Abriu-se de fato como uma cadela, abrigando aquele homem ali sentindo-o chupar seus biquinhos como se não já estivessem sensibilizados demais, como se não estivessem vermelhinhos e pontudinhos demais. Jaemin não queria parar por nada nesse mundo, então simultaneamente tocou sua pequena buceta coberta pela calcinha de algodão e porra, estava encharcada, pingando... Ele mordeu devagarinho seu biquinho esquerdo para descontar aquela ansiedade nivelada em luxúria e seu gemidinho o destruiu.

E seus olhos encontram-se.

.

Seus peitinhos estavam destruídos e sua calcinha já havia sido rasgada da mesma forma que sua blusinha. Agora tudo o que tinha em seu corpinho eram suas meias e a mini-saia plissada.

Jaemin segurava o pau pesado entre os dedos e bombeava toda aquela pré-porra entre os dedos. Grunhiu mirando a sua entradinha rosada e melecada completamente exposta para ele e exclusivamente dele.

O homem rosnou esfregando com força contra seu botãozinho, misturando a pré-porra ao seu melzinho. O nervosismo fazia um mix com sua vontade intensa daquilo e resultava em sua bucetinha praticamente jorrando.

— N-nana...— pediu baixinho mordendo o dedinho, chamando por aquele homem que esfregava o cacete em você com toda sua vontade.

Ele era tão lindo e aquilo parecia surreal. Queria que o mundo inteiro soubesse que estava prestes a ser dele. Queria se gabar. Sentia-se de fato a boneca de Na Jaemin.

Se seu pai sonhasse ao menos com isso...Porra, como Jaemin era sujo. Imundo. Perverso.

E você amava isso mais que tudo.

Arreganhada ali você se perguntou se aquilo tudo caberia dentro de si, tendo em vista que estava tao sensibilizada pelo orgasmo que o na havia lhe dado com os dedos. porra, ele ia tão fundo e te fazia abrir-se inteira so com aqueles olhos.

Olhava quietinha e hipnotizada para aquele pau...tão grande, grosso...melado e avermelhado... as veias saltavam e pulsavam. Jaemin parecia depender daquilo...os cabelos grudados na testa suada e gotas desciam por suas temporas.

Perfeito. Queria lamber ele inteiro, mas tudo o que conseguia era mira-lo como uma puta burra. Ofegante.

Jaemin sorriu sacana e dera uma primeira investida, sentindo sua entradinha tão fechada resistir expulsando-o, então voltou a esfregar.

— Porra...tão apertada...como vou fazer caber isso tudinho aqui dentro, hm? — ele era imundo e tinha uma boca imunda. Grunhiu manhosa também imaginando. Suadinha você chupou o próprio indicador o olhando com os olhinhos lacrimados. — Acabei de dedar essa bucetinha, boneca...sabe que o nana tem que entrar, não sabe?

Assentiu e ele forçou-se para dentro, rosnando grosseiro ao adentrar a cabecinha bem ali. Ele te ouviu choramingando e barrou sua tentativa de fechar as perninhas, segurando com as mãos ásperas.

— Nananinanao...onde tá' sua obediência? Abre as pernas.

— D-doi...Nana...

— Abre. as. pernas. — e ele te abriu como se fosse nada enquanto usava de sua voz profunda. Você soluçou e o viu posicionar-se perfeitamente para foder até mesmo sua alma. — Você me pediu e eu vou te ajudar...se oferece dentro do meu carro como uma vadia mimada e carente e agora simplesmente quer fechar essas perninhas lindas...

Segurou sua bochecha apenas pra te da um leve solavanco para o lado e socar os dedos fundo em sua garganta enquanto se força pra dentro do seu cantinho apertado e úmido. Grunhiu agarrando as pelúcias acima de sua cabeça ao sentir aquele homem lhe tirar totalmente a pureza de uma vez.

O tamanho de Jaemin inteiro entrando ali, esticando sua bucetinha a todo custo, fodendo seu espacinho e reivindicando o lugar dele. Jaemin gemia rouco a cada centímetro abrigado e naquela posição tão exposta só se deu conta de seu limite quando ele socou até o último centímetro e finalmente sentiu o colinho de seu útero. Cheia, completamente cheia. Franziu o cenho com os olhinhos cheios e a boca lotada dos dedos de Jaemin enquanto levava uma de suas mãos até o abdômen do homem tão próximo de si, o avisando que era demais para si.

Ele sorrira e tirou sem nenhum esforço, girando os quadris e suspirando de olhos fechados com seu interior quentinho quase o esmagando.

— Tão miúda...minha boneca, tão pequenina...agora não é mais uma mocinha...já era...agora é minha...minha cadelinha burra...olha o que você fez... — ele saiu lentamente e voltou com intensidade, arruinando seu interior dando adeus a sua virgindade. Você sentiu a lágrima descer num misto de sensações. Estava no céu e no inferno ao mesmo tempo. — fodendo com o melhor amigo do seu pai...dentro do seu quarto...pra onde vai a sua honra, hm? p-porra como aperta, bebezinha...

Ele grunhiu impulsionou o quadril novamente te moldando inteira. Se sentia cheia, completamente cheia de pau. perguntou-se como conseguiu leva-lo, porem sempre que ele batia lá percebia que ele era demais para si. Queria ser uma boa menina, queria levar tudo.

Te segurar quietinha enquanto os quadris fortes dele desciam a pancada contra os seus não era nada demais, você era mais que maleável e não era nada para aqueles braços enormes que te mantinham abertinha.

Revirou os olhinhos e não conseguia expor nada além de choramingos encobertos de suplicas incompreensíveis. Completamente burra. Jaemin socava e socava e socava com tanta vontade que se perdia completamente sem perceber a força usada, mas aquele homem sabia o que fazer.

Os cabelos suados e agora todo o peitoral bem como encoberto de arranhões. Jaemin rosnou e o manteve dentro te vendo soltar um gemido mudo, e ele sorriu puxando seu lábio numaa mordida.

— Tão bobinha...tão burrinha...apertada...uma bucetinha tão boa de destruir...eu já comi tantas mulheres na minha vida, ____...mas nenhuma delas tinha essa buceta de ninfeta gostosa que você tem...porra! — uma pancada relativamente forte teria a tirado do lugar se não fossem as mãos fortes do Na a mantendo ali.

E ele voltou com vontade, sentindo que não duraria tanto assim e você não estava diferente, porque a cabeça do pau de Jaemin atingia repetidamente seu lugarzinho alarmante naquela posição e queria por tudo sentir aquilo outra vez, ainda mais cheia daquele homem.

— N-nana...m-me destroi...por f-favor..— suplicou sem pensar segurando o rosto suado do homem e o viu ofegar, assistiu cada expressão prazerosa daquele canalha enquanto contraia contra a grossura do mesmo.

— a-ahn...n-nana...— chamava. suplicava. pedia...manhava.

Ele fechou os olhos enquanto movimentava o quadril e os sons cada vez mais melados indicava que ambos estavam próximos do que seria o fim. Jaemin era um homem resistente e sentiu sua bucetinha apertar, mostrando que estava gozando e todo seu corpinho tremelicou sob o dele. A sensibilidade á mil e seus gemidos finos e alarmantes enquanto ele perseguia o próprio fim.

Iria ser o bom filho da puta que era, iria encher seu útero. Iria inundar. Guardou aquela porra por tanto tempo pra sua menininha. Jaemin enterrou o rosto bem na curva de seu pescocinho e gemeu enquanto acelerou e com forca desmedida estocou sua bucetinha ardida.

Não aguentava mais, estava sensível. Era dolorido na mesma medida que era gostoso. Suas perninhas balançando e seu corpinho no mesmo ritmo agressivo daquele homem por cima de você. Sua bucetinha sofria toda a ira de Na Jaemin.

Merda, tantas noites ele fantasiou com isso...

— A-ah, caralho...! — ele clamou e você gritou manhosa quando ele bateu outra vez em seu colo, contraindo.

Cada vez mais bruto e seu corpo dava sinais de que talvez fosse demais.

— n-nana...! p-papai...! papai...— e aí foi o fim daquele pobre homem.

Ele enterrou-se em seu canalzinho e nem se importou em perceber que talvez machucasse, mas tinha percebido sua tendência a gostar daquilo. Jaemin deu a melhor esporrada de sua vida...gozou tanto que era possível sentir cada pulsada dele dentro de você. Gemeu longamente manhosa enquanto se apertava inteira naquela dorzinha gostosa que era te-lo inteiro enterrado dentro de si e teve seu terceiro orgasmo.

A respiração ofegante de ambos denunciava que aquilo havia sido bem mais que intenso...Estava como Jaemin prometeu que te deixaria; destruída.

n/f: sinta-se a vontade para comentar e críticas construtivas serão bem vindas nas minhas ask ou chat :)) qualquer comentário maldoso será ignorado e apagado. xoxo.

[wakeofearth]

LEATHER GLOVES, thinking about your boyfriend while lying on the bed was a mistake, a good one. pairing: leon x gn! reader tags: gn!masturbation, gloves, established relationship, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot wc: 1.2k

You couldn't help it. Every time Leon was away because of a mission, a part of yours was left uncompleted. You knew he was busy, and it was his job—just like you were busy with yours—and you couldn't stop missing him.

Missing his words, his touch, his face—especially when he looks at you like you were the reason why the sun rises. You always lose yourself when you are looking into his eyes. How could he look at you and make your heart feel like it was going to jump out of your chest? You weren't sure—the only thing you were sure of was how much you missed him. You can't get him out of your mind. Your heart does kick-flip when you are just hugging or talking—even when he is talking about random things, like how he cleans his guns or what he did when he wasn't next to you. He has this pullover over you; you were under his spell. You could just sit there and watch his pretty face for hours. Everything about him was precious. Even the way he laughs at his lame jokes makes your heart melt.

Every time you go to the movies, you shove your hands on your lap—so you won't try to touch him until he grabs it—and see how his thumb caresses yours while he gives you a little smile on his lips before his focus moves to the screen again. Feeling his fingertips teasing your hand sends a shiver down your spine, making you let out a shaky breath from your lips. He was fully aware of the effect of his touch. But he wasn't that much different from you. It was just a small contact, but the feeling was the opposite. At the end of the movie, your mind always ends up with thoughts about him instead of what you saw on the screen.

You weren't sure why you couldn't stop thinking about him—the only thing you were sure of was how much you missed him. You can't get him out of your mind. You should get used to feeling the emptiness of the bed—you were in a relationship with him for nearly a year.

As your mind wandered to thoughts of Leon, you couldn't help but feel a deep ache in your chest. The emptiness of the bed only served as a constant reminder of his absence. You yearned for his touch, his presence, and the way he made you feel alive. But you knew he was busy, even though he wanted to be with you. He had always been dedicated to his work, and you admired him for that. However, the longing for him grew stronger with each passing hour. You knew he would make his way out of the tired and gruesome missions, but your mind couldn’t stop wondering about the possibilities. Dating with Leon means having ups and downs—having “what if” all the time inside your mind, no matter the hour or place.

You just wanted to cuddle with him while you were sitting on the couch, with a warm blanket over you. Was it too much to ask, desiring a  normal  life? You could always watch him talk about the movies. Maybe he could be a critic in another life; that was the kind of thing you thought while you got lost in his face. A smile would be carved into your lips, with your head tilted to the side. You love how his hands move while he explains the camera shots they used or the importance of the coloring in that specific scene. You’d just nod your head, not understanding a shit about it, but he was happy. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Oh, you could imagine him watching you cook something or even prepare a snack. He would act like you just hung the moon, and he loved hugging you from the back, your back touching his neck while he planted kisses on your neck. You would warn him by saying his name with a stern tone while he just laughed off.

Desperate to feel a connection, you found yourself seeking solace in the familiar texture of leather. Sitting on his side of the bed, you ran your fingers over his pillow, hugging it, trying to recreate the sensation of Leon's presence. Feeling a mix of frustration and desire, you couldn't resist the pull any longer. Your thoughts turned into more intimate actions. With a deep breath, you decided to take matters into your own hands,  quite literally . You grabbed Leon's leather gloves from the drawer, shoving your fingers inside the leather.

You slowly undressed, the cool air kissing your bare skin as you made your way back to the bed. Lying down, you let your hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and contours that Leon knew so well. The memories of his touch flooded your mind, driving you to seek pleasure in his absence. As the need intensified, you couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Your hand found its way between your thighs, fingers slipping inside, exploring your desires. The sensations sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, drawing you closer to the edge.

You could feel his lips brushing your skin, planting kisses on your flesh while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. A murmur escaped your lips, calling out his name, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear your pleas. Your back arched against the soft surface of the blankets, your heavy breathing filling the room. You got so used to feeling his hands all over you, and he started to know your body better than you. You weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not right now, not when your body and mind were yearning for him.

At that moment, your mind was consumed with a mix of longing and pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers mirrored the rhythm of your racing heartbeat. You imagined Leon's hands, his fingers, and his lips, all of them caressing you with an intensity that matched your own. The bed was covered with your and Leon's scent, creating a more intimate experience for you. Your chest moved up and down, your fingers working on yourself at a methodical pace while your free hand wandered around your body. As your pleasure built, you couldn't help but let out a moan, the sound filling the empty room. It was a desperate plea, a silent call to him, hoping that somehow, in that vast distance between you, he would feel your desire .

You just wanted to feel him between your arms, filling the space.  Fuck , your mind couldn’t stop playing the memories of him cuddling you after he came back to you. Your arms stretched out, and a nice and warm place was in front of you— just for him . A reminder to him, having a reason to come back home, to you. Your arms would circle against his waist, pulling him close until he had to question if he could breathe. Your fingers would move around his body, his face finding the crook of your neck. Your fingers would play with his dark-blonde hair, saying how proud you are of him and how much you love him. You just wanted to say those things again and again until he fell asleep in your bed. Oh, how you missed him. Every cell of your body was burning to feel him against you.

But even as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you, the emptiness in your heart remained. The physical release only served as a temporary distraction from the ache that lingered deep within.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis and Honey Autumn This or That 🍂

Week Eight: Thrift Shop or Library

Summary- Short Drabble. Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Your school day is done and you are taking a few moments of peace and quiet to enjoy the library.

Warnings- Curtis is a menace.

A/N- LAST TWO DRABBLES! wow, this was so much fun to do and I loved these small snippets in their everyday life. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. And if you guys would like to see another series similar to this one in the future, let me know. (for any of my pairings, doesn't have to be Curtis and Honey) Again! Thank you so much for everything, you all are absolutely the best.

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You hummed, happy with your little quiet bubble in the schools library. The kids were headed home at the end of the day and you had planned on taking the last bit of afternoon to jump start your next science course for your students . 

Curtis already knew you would be late getting out having told him as he was headed out the door for work. So you were soaking in the sensation of being around all these books, getting lost in the endless shelves available to you. Endless book spines were calling your name with titles, some familiar, some not. Once in a while, you would pull one out, cracking it open to browse its contents. Like an old friend greeting you once again.

From somewhere the libraries door opened and boots on the linoleum sounded, but you ignored it, not paying attention to a building that was always sounding like banging doors and shuffling feet. You had learned a long time ago to tune out such noises.

It wasn’t till you heard a gruff rumble and saw a large hand brace against the shelf by your head did you pay attention, twisting around to see Curtis right behind you. He must have showered cause he had changed between now and when you saw him leave that morning, his typical work uniform gone for a forest green button-up plaid and black jeans. “Didn’t even hear me say your name, full teacher mode? Next time I will have to call you Miss.Y/L/N.” He chuckled, a warm calloused hand coming up to cup your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. 

Fresh mint and the masculine taste of Curtis filled your senses, getting lost in the feeling of plush lips and slight roughness from his beard, you let your hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck, sighing happily into his kiss.

Now this combo, browsing books and getting to feel Curtis step in that much closer, his hard body warm as it started to pin you in place, you could be okay with this. 

“I don’t think Miss Y/L/N is allowed this much PDA in the library.” You hissed against his mouth before taking another kiss. Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him in closer. His hips pressed tightly forward, pressing you back firmly against the bookshelf. 

“What about my Pretty Girl?” A tilt of his head had his mouth trailing your jawline, tone deep and graveled as he gave you all these little sensations that had you breathing heavier. “She want this PDA?” 

“Oh yes, very much so.” You sighed while letting your head tilt back to let him have more access to you. You felt his hands heavily trace your curves, flexing his hold where your body was a little extra till his hands landed on your ass, really grabbing a hold there and lifting you a bit. 

“You drive me fucking insane when you’re all in your teacher mode. Legs around me Honey.” He growled as he went back to your mouth, keeping you from being able to protest him lifting you. Your legs swung around his waist, ankles locking in the small of his back to keep him from letting you go. “Fuck you're so fucking perfect.” He groaned as he pressed against your core, making himself grind against your clit. Just the right amount of pressure made a soft cry rise up into his mouth, clutching at him. “That’s right Sweet Girl, feels good doesn’t it.” 

It did, you couldn’t help the little rock of your hips at the sensation as you continued kissing him, panting against each other heatedly. The library just melded away, like you completely forgot that anyone could walk in on you two making out and grinding against each other. 

“Again, please?” You whined needing it again and Curtis obliged while biting your shoulder, his hip pushing into you, now his erection throbbing against you while grinding against your clit. The rough fabric a barrier between the two of you was making you so damn sensitive, aching for more. 

You felt seconds away from going further when voices sounded nearby, some of your colleagues were discussing their days when you two froze. 

Curtis pressed his hand against your mouth to keep the squeak of surprise muffled while he started to ease back. 

You dropped your legs to land on your toes and loosened your hold, looking down between you two. “Curtis.” You whispered while he straightened your clothes out. “You gotta stay behind me.” 

He groaned, his gaze heated still. “Shit Honey, don’t put those images in my head.” He huffed while you stifled a giggle, turning him to face the bookshelf instead, hiding the bulge in his pants. You snapped out a book and flipped it open quickly. 

“Quick, pretend you're reading this.” You just handed him a copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl and that made him arch a brow at you, clearly stating he was doubting your plan. But he flipped it open and skimmed his eyes over the words, pretending it was fascinating. 

Seconds away, they were just about to go around the corner and stumble on you and Curtis. You angled yourself beside Curtis, grabbing your own book from the shelf and were ready to cut off the teachers. 

You felt Curtis next to you, nose in his book, with his shoulders shaking, trying not to burst into laughter. And then they crested the corner, you and him hiding your faces in books while trying not to laugh.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Discede!

Witchy Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Fic-tober Masterlist

Heart Set on Amulets Universe Masterlist

Summary: You and Dalton go to Five Keys, New Mexico, to get answers about your training as a witch.

Warnings: fluff, Discede is Latin for "Be Gone" (teleportation spell from Buffy the Vampire Slayer), spoilers for Insidious: The Last Key (2018) and The Red Door (2023), witch jokes and references to movies with witches. 2.2k+ words

A/N: This might be my favorite Heart Set on Amulets fic I've written. I highly recommend reading the others (at least 'Heart Set on Amulets') first, if you haven't already! Please let me know what you think and enjoy!! :)

Pacing alone in your apartment, you feel your desperation growing. The last time you talked to Specs, he seemed confident that he’d find something soon and get back to you, but that was weeks ago.

“Can I come in?” Dalton asks, standing in your doorway and dangling your keys. “These were in the lock still.”

You nod and thank him as you take your keys and put them away. “Sorry, I’m just distracted. Specs hasn’t updated me in weeks.”

Dalton feels some recognition when you say ‘Specs’ but can’t place it. He hugs you tightly and rubs your back as he promises everything will work out.

“In the meantime, we could watch a movie,” Dalton suggests gently.

“We’re not watching Practical Magic again,” you say. He points at you, and you rush to add, “Or Hocus Pocus.”

“But you put a spell on me,” he says with a pout.

“Any other movie, Dalton.”

Dalton reluctantly agrees before pulling you onto the couch and turning your TV on. Just as you start to relax against his side, your phone beeps. You rush to grab it and gasp as you read the new message:

I found the tapes. -Specs

“Everything alright?” Dalton asks, leaning up to sit behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, great actually,” you answer, turning to face him. “Specs found the recordings of my training sessions.” You glance down to read a second message and add, “And another amulet, almost identical to yours.”

“So, New Mexico?”

“We don’t have to go right now.”

Dalton rubs his thumb over your cheekbone as he says, “You want answers, and I want to help. So, we go when you’re ready. Even if that’s right now.”

You smile as you lean against his hand, and he takes that as an invitation to kiss you. He brings his other hand to your jaw and feels a surge like a love spell coursing through his veins, starting where his skin rests on yours.

Dalton pulls back first and says, “I guess we should start packing.”

He makes no move to leave, insisting on helping you pack before you both go to his dorm to get his stuff. While you gather your things, you speculate about what Elise recorded and tracked regarding your abilities.

Dalton cuts you off to ask, “Wait- Elise? The woman in the videos about the Further?”

You shrug and reach for an old scrapbook, flipping to a picture of you and Elise the last time you saw her. Dalton confirms it’s the same Elise.

“My mom said that when I was in the coma- the Further- she was instrumental to pulling me out. She helped my dad when he was a kid and tried to help him again nine years ago, but it didn’t end well,” Dalton explains.

“The demon that possessed your dad is the one who…” you trail off, and Dalton finishes, “Killed her. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything. Neither did your dad. She knew the dangers.” You place a hand on Dalton’s cheek and repeat, “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.”

Dalton nods against your hand before grabbing your bag and leading you to his dorm. You decide to fly, booking two tickets on the first plane to Albuquerque while Dalton packs. It seems impossible to be this close to answers, but you’ve been waiting for years.

Dalton keeps his hand in yours, a hand on your back, or an arm around your shoulders until you exit the Uber and walk down Main Street in Five Keys. You point to a small restaurant at the corner and tell him Specs said to meet him there.

Dalton feels that same sensation of recognition as he walks beside you. He thinks something moves in the shadows but credits it to exhaustion and an old town. When you walk into the diner, Dalton’s eyes widen as he looks to the back.

“Dalton?” Specs asks, walking toward both of you. He says hello to you before turning his attention back to Dalton. “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Carl wiped my memory?” Dalton suggests.

Specs looks down quickly and then chuckles nervously. “I didn’t- um.”

“I’m messing you with you,” Dalton tells him. “It’s been a long few months, but I remember the Further. And my mom filled in the blank spaces.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, when I got out of the Further after almost dying she seemed eager to answer any and all questions.”

You elbow Dalton and whisper, “Easy.”

“I don’t blame you, though. No hard feelings,” Dalton offers, extending his hand and shaking Specs’.

“We should go to Elise’s house,” Specs says, turning his attention to you. “There’s a room where she worked and more information than I could dream of going through alone.”

You agree and climb into his car with Dalton, looking out the window as Specs asks Dalton about the Red Door and how they closed it. The ride is short, and you’re in awe of the house as you approach it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Specs asks. “Too bad it’s full of horrors and bad memories. The townspeople are trying to get it torn down, but Tucker and I are petitioning historical status – it’s been here a long time.”

“When Elise told me about her childhood?” you ask.

Specs nods and places a hand on your shoulder as he confirms, “It happened here.”

You stiffen and swallow harshly, only relaxing when Dalton’s hand meets your lower back and rubs a comforting circle. “Well, let’s see what she found out.”

Specs leads you inside, through an unused living room, and down the stairs. When Specs turns on the lights, you see a wall of shelves covered in journals and videotapes. There’s a section larger than the others labeled with your name. You look at Specs, and he nods, moving to set up the tape player for you. You toss your bag outside the door, wait for Dalton to do the same, and return to your side before you walk to the section Elise dedicated to you.

“There’s so much,” you whisper. “Where do I start?”

“Mind some advice?” Specs asks.

“Welcome it,” you answer, turning to smile at him.

“Start at the top left, work right, then go down. She organized chronologically. The tapes are most likely your training, and depending on how much of that you remember, may not be as helpful as the journals.” He pauses to point to one tape labeled differently than the others. “You don’t remember this. Read the first journal, then watch this.”

“What is it?” you ask as you pull it from the shelf.

“Depends on your reaction. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything. I hope this helps.”

Specs leaves, and you stare at the tape until the letters on the label begin to blur together.

“Take your time,” Dalton says. “We don’t have to do anything before you’re ready. And if you want privacy, say the word.”

You grab his wrist and shake your head. “Please don’t leave me.”

Dalton smiles and kisses your forehead before promising, “Never.”

Taking a deep breath, you grab the first journal and sit on the small loveseat in front of the TV set. Dalton sits beside you, leaning back to give you room without feeling alone. Cracking open the journal, you read notes about your first time meeting Elise. You remember answering most of these questions but are surprised by the detailed recollection of your words. The reading is quick, and most of the pages are filled with paraphrasing of your explanations and answers and scribbled theories beside them. You turn to the last page, and there’s a number taking up the whole page, the only other marking a small printing of the word ‘Answers.’

“What’s the number?” Dalton asks quietly.

“The tape,” you answer as you stand and put it in the machine. “Apparently it has answers.”

When you sit back down, you sit closer to Dalton and don’t hit play until his arm wraps around you.

“You’ll drift to sleep and then hopefully I can reach your innermost thoughts and maybe even your ancestors to learn the source of your powers,” Elise says.

You nod and watch her as she begins the hypnotization process. Less than a minute later, your eyes are closed, and your breathing is eerily even. 

“Hello?” Elise asks. “Is anyone there?”

“Yes,” you say, but it doesn’t sound like you.

“Who am I talking to?”

The voice says your last name then, “Of old.”

“Can you tell me about the girl’s abilities? Is witchcraft hereditary or something she happened to pick up?”

The voice laughs before answering, “Not only is this hereditary, but she is the last of a dying kind. We are spell walkers and witches of the purest blood.”

“Meaning?” Elise presses.

“She can walk spells, determine their origins and purposes, and being of pure witch blood, is able to do, as you humans call it, ‘magic’ without material or spells. She is pure. Powerful.”

You pause the video and look at Dalton, whose eyes widen as he turns to you.

“How’s it going?” Specs asks from the doorway.

“I need a second,” you mumble, brushing past him and up the stairs.

“Sorry,” Dalton tells him, standing to follow you.

“Dalton,” Specs calls, “let her know she’s not alone.”

Dalton nods and rushes up the stairs, finding you standing in a dark room with your arms wrapped around your waist.

“How did I not know?” you ask, glancing up at him. “I have that much power and didn’t know. What am I supposed to do with it, Dalton?”

Dalton wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest. “Hey, we’re going to figure all of this out. Together, okay?” he says.

Specs knocks and hands something to Dalton as he quietly explains, “I found this one yesterday. Elise left it for her.”

Dalton thanks him and holds it out as you step back. When you open it, an amulet falls out, but you catch it and hold it up. It’s very similar to the one around Dalton’s neck; the colors are familiar: almost an identical blend to the colors Dalton said your aura was made of. The first page of the journal is a note addressed to you.

“I’m going to let you read this one alone,” Dalton whispers. “I’ll be right outside with Specs, okay?”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him leave before you start reading.

This journal documents your progress during your short time with me. I’ve also created a short list of tips for any future progression if that is something you desire. You are powerful and have unbelievable gifts, but they’re yours to use how you want to or need to. If you’re reading this, I’m gone, but find the people who will help you learn and encourage you daily. You can do anything you put your mind (and power) to. -Elise

While you’re reading and reminiscing on your short time with Elise, Dalton is getting answers to his own questions.

“This is yours,” Specs says, pushing a box across the table.

The box is filled with tapes and journals, not as many as you had, all labeled with ‘Lambert.’

“The Further is dangerous, Dalton,” Specs adds, “even for Elise. So even if you think you closed the door permanently, don’t ever let your guard down. You need to protect the people you love.”

“And if the people I love can help?” Dalton asks, looking over his shoulder to the room you’re in.

“Then let them.”

You exit the room a few minutes later, smiling as you hug Dalton. He tells you that Specs gave him Elise’s notes on him and his dad, and you glance into the box.

“The Further?” you ask.

Dalton nods and hugs you before Specs returns.

“You two can take the stuff, but you’re also welcome here anytime.” He hands each of you a key and repeats, “Anytime at all.”

“Thank you for everything, Specs,” you say, shaking his hand and hugging him quickly. “You’ve been more help than you know.”

Dalton thanks him, too, and smiles when Specs says, “Don’t be a stranger.”

As you walk toward the door, Specs tells you to wait and asks, “Have you tried teleporting yet? You did it no problem the last time I saw you.”

“You were there?”

Specs smiles and hands you a paper with a teleportation spell. Dalton reads it over your shoulder as Specs goes back inside.

“We should try,” Dalton says.

“What if it kills us?” you argue.

 “Teleporting with a beautiful witch,” Dalton says dreamily, “what a way to go.”

You move to stand in front of a window where you can see yourself and Dalton in the reflection. His arm wraps around you just before you say, “Discede!”

Your eyes are shut tight when you feel solid ground under your feet again. Blinking slowly to open your eyes, you turn quickly to see Dalton smiling widely.

“It worked,” you say as you look around your apartment.

 “Of course, it did, you’re a witch, babe. A good one.”

“We’re not watching The Wizard of Oz,” you say as you walk away from him and to the couch.

“But there’s no place like home!” Dalton singsongs as he follows you, collapsing onto the couch beside you. “Or you could just talk to me in Latin until I fall asleep, or kiss you, could go either way.”

[putadohs]

faz uma one assim amg 😭😭

https://www.tumblr.com/floulou/752017427707183104/man-isso-aqui-deve-ser-uma-sensa%C3%A7%C3%A3o-muito-boa

n consigo abrir o link 😭

[hel-lo111]

Well, that's certainly a reason to want memories.

I like

be ing

dramat

ic

o k ?

- -

also it

would a

ctual l

y give

me some

thing t

o do an

d a goa

l to st

rive fo

r

right n

ow I` m

kinda j

ust chi

l ling

trap

ped

but sti

ll

chil

ling !

I do mi

ss the

out sid

e but I

think I

` d lik

e to th

ink peo

ple who

knew me

are sti

ll out

there

waiting

for me

and I`

d like

to reme

mber th

em so I

can yea

rn for

more th

an just

physica

l sensa

tions

[empaticamentesblog]

" 'Sta vita me pare 'n Tribunale"

Qualsiasi cosa tu farai, indosserai o esternerai verrai giudicato/a anche se non hai fatto nulla di male, anche se non c'è motivo di giudicare.

E mi dispiace per tutte quelle persone, spesso giovani, che ne soffrono. Molte addirittura arrivano a suicidarsi.

Non vi togliete la vita, ma vivete pensando al vostro benessere: un benessere che non può dipendere dal parere altrui, dal consenso altrui. Si può vivere felicemente anche sensa queste approvazioni.

Ogni giorno leggo giovani depressi, sfiduciati e massacrati da famiglie disfunzionali e da una società infida. Eliminate questa gente, allontanatela dalla vostra vita.

Vivere nel rispetto altrui, ci sta e si deve... Ma mai come vogliono gli altri condannandoci all'infelicità.

[lobobobobo]

NOW LISTEN UP THA MAIN MAN HAS GOT ANOTHER ONE FOR YA BABES AND THE REST

IT HAS COME TO THE BOSS MANS ATTENTION (THATS ME BABY) THAT SOME THINK PERHAPS MY WAYS OF TYPIN ARE DUE TO A LACK A INTELLECT ON THE PART A OL LOBO

FOLKSVE GOT IT INER HEADS THAT OL LOBO JUST AINT WITH IT IN THE SENSA GRAMMER N SPELLIN N SYNTAX

BUT LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHIN

I SAID LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHIN

DO YOU THINK IT REALLY CONVEYS THE ENERGY OF THE MAIN MAN TA TYPE

Like this?

You think this is good, huh?

You like that, Bitch? You like this? Freak. You're fucked up.

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Name a song for each letter of your username

You are trying to kill me. My username is a mile long and I still struggled to decide which songs to use. Since it’s a mile long, I put it under the cut.

Tagged by: @spiritistanchi (Thank you dear! This was fun!)

Tagging: (Only if you want to) @cyberlife-three @detective-phck @silver-blooded-synthetics  and anyone else who wants to do it!

h - Hayloft II (Dark Verb Mix) - Mother Mother

o - Old Number Seven - The Devil Makes Three

w - Who You Run To - The Bad Dreamers

--------

t - Tech Noir - Gunship 

o - On the Railroad - The Longest Johns

---------

d - Dream a Little Dream of Me - Doris Day

i - I’m The Boogeyman - Rory Webley

s - Synthetic - The Midnight

a - A Little Longer - Armon Jay

s - Sohn - Kontra K   (English Translation)

s - Sensa Fine - Monica Mancini (English Translation)

e - Every Breath You Take - The Police

m - Man with the Hex - The Atomic Fireballs

b - Bedroom Ceiling - Citizen Soldier

l - Leave a Light On - Tom Walker

e - Everybody Knows - Wild Fire

-------

y - You’re Not Here - Akira Yamaoka

o - Over the Rainbow - Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole

u - Unwritten -  Pomplamoose ft. MALINDA

r - Railroad Track - Willy Moon 

--------

d - Devil’s Train - The Lab Rats 

e - Enormous Penis -  Da Vinci’s Notebook

v - Valhalla Calling - Miracle Of Sound ft. Eric Hollaway & Peyton Parrish

i - I See You - MISSIO

a - A Gorey Demise - Creature Feature 

n -  Nocturne No. 2 in E flat Major, Op. 9,2 - Chopin

t - The Hunting Song - Tom Lehrer

[themculibrary]

T'Challa Masterlist

Betrayal (ao3) - panthershabit t'challa/tony, sam/bucky M, 17k

Summary: After incapacitating Helmut Zemo, T'Challa decides to track Tony and finds him nearly dead in the snow. Unbeknownst to Steve, T'Challa takes Tony to Wakanda and tries to find out what happened.

Consequences (ao3) - WintersGoddess T, 128k

Summary: T'Challa could only hope Rogers hadn't seriously injured or killed any one on his quest. There had been enough death in the past weeks, God knows he couldn't handle much more right now. He was a strong man, but even the strongest can break under to much pressure.

T'Challa sighed noisily, his frustrations growing further. Shuri would be returning soon and then he had no way to stash the Avengers away. He looked out the windows of the study, staring out over the vast jungle, at the skyline cloaked in its blackness. He prayed for strength, for guidance, for some kind of foresight of what may come. If only his prayers had been answered. He would have been able to see what the Gods had in store for him. How his life was about to be shattered. Nothing would ever be the same. His world would forever be changed, and he didn't even know. All because he offered another sanctuary.

*My own take on what I feel should/could happen after the events of Civil War. I didn't really like the ending, so this is my way of dealing with it*

Court Me (ao3) - syriala t'challa/tony G, 2k

Summary: “You and the king spent time in the workshop,” Rhodey told him with a very big grin and Tony frowned.

“And?”

“And the young king is very good looking. And he knows about his tech,” Rhodey said as if he was pointing out something obvious but Tony wasn’t getting it.

“Aaaaaand?” Tony asked again because he was tired and just wanted to enjoy the movie they were watching.

“And I believe he has been flirting with you,” Rhodey finally said when it became clear that Tony wouldn’t pick up on his meaning.

Tony sat up from where he was lying on the couch. “Excuse me?”

glass windows, steel blues (ao3) - fangedangel (clockworkqueen) bucky/t'challa, bucky/alexander N/R, 9k

Summary: T'Challa is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Bucky is his new assistant.

Inimitable (ao3) - TenSpencerRiedPlease t'challa/tony N/R, 63k

Summary: Tony has absolutely no interest in this marriage but his mom seems to think this is a good idea. “I worked hard on finding someone you would actually get along with, Tony. I’m sure you will be happy,” she says.

Happy with someone in some random foreign nation that he’s never met before? Yeah, he gives his mom an incredulous look for that. “Something tells me this isn’t going to end well, but it’s only the rest of my life,” he mumbles.

-

T’Challa isn’t exactly sure about this marriage but his father insisted and he maybe loves his father a little too much given that he agreed to this.

it takes an ocean not to break (ao3) - napricot bucky/t'challa E, 39k

Summary: “Yet you haven’t sought any vengeance against HYDRA.”

Bucky laughed, incredulous and sad. “No. No, I—” he paused, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. “If I ran into anyone trying to take me in again, I—I handled it. And I hit a few old HYDRA bases, took ‘em out so they couldn’t use them. But—no. Revenge?” He shook his head. “It’s too big. If I’d let it, it would have taken up all the room inside of me, and there wouldn’t be anything left of me. I had to let it go.”

T'Challa and Bucky get to know each other, and T'Challa learns how to let it go.

Keep You Warm (ao3) - SoBeBold bucky/t'challa E, 3k

Summary: Bucky comes out of cryo. Both he and T’Challa are dealing with some major league issues. Being the warriors they are, they tend to keep it all bottled inside…but who said spooning was off limits?

or

The five times T'Chucky cuddled platonically and the one time there was nothing platonic about it.

Lost & Found (ao3) - d_aia t'challa/tony M, 38k

Summary: T'Challa saw the black motorcycle again. There was something about it that was so familiar, a niggling sensation that wouldn’t leave him, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It annoyed him. He had seen the bike two days ago, on the side of the road, but he was in a hurry then, and needed to get moving. Not this time.

-

In which T'Challa and Tony don't meet in the middle of a planet-wide conflict.

moonstone (ao3) - jesspava (cyclical) m’baku/t’challa G, 3k

Summary: “So you two are having sex!” Shuri yells.

From the bed, T’Challa looks up, face blank. His stack of papers lowers a fraction.

“We are?” he asks drily, “M’Baku why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve put my book down.”

Natural order (ao3) - Builder T, 5k

Summary: “No one would blame you, you know,” she says. “If you wanted to take it easy.”

“It’s sitting behind a desk and listening, Natasha,” T’Challa says. “It is easy.”

_____

If only things were as simple as that.

Also know as That One T'Challa Appendicitis Fic

Pads, Paws and Claws (ao3) - molmcmahon harry potter/t’challa T, 8k

Summary: Harry lands in a world of superheroes and secret countries and finds a home and maybe something more.

The Accidental Husband (ao3) - panda_shi t'challa/tony M, 99k (WIP)

Summary: Tony Stark discovers, that during his lowest point when he had been almost-twenty-one, he had married the King of Wakanda. Except he doesn't remember how. Now, trying to get a divorce is going to be one challenging thing -- how is this his life, even? It's almost unfair!

The Adventures of Peter Parker and Shuri (ao3) - aceschwarz222 gamora/peter, pepper/tony G, 92k

Summary: T'Challa must spend two weeks at the Avengers Compound working on an agreement with Tony Stark in light of Wakanda opening its borders and resources. He brings along his sister, Shuri, who meets the equally nerdy Peter Parker.

Basically a bunch of short, fluffy drabbles about a fantastic friendship between two adorable dorks.

The Favor of the King (ao3) - thingswithwings t’challa/sam E, 18k

Summary: T'Challa – King T'Challa of Wakanda, the Black Panther, Guy Who Dresses Up Like a Cat to Fight Crime or Possibly for Other Reasons, Who the Fuck Knows – T'Challa corners Sam during one of their visits to check in on Bucky and says, in a mild voice that should not sound as threatening as it does, "We need to talk."

"We do, huh," Sam says, looking him up and down. He's just a king and a superhero and a genius inventor and possibly the richest man alive, looking way too fine and wearing the hell out of a tailored three-piece suit; Sam can hold his own against this guy.

These Scars Haunt Me (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief t'challa/tony M, 11k

Summary: When Wakanda entered the world, new soulmate bonds were discovered. One of which between their king and an American omega. It isn't until the omega arrives that they realise how badly he has been treated...

"All T'challa knew, was that if his omega had been happy and healthy there wouldn't be a need for apologies."

The Truth Never Set Me Free (I Did It Myself) (ao3) - TenSpencerRiedPlease t'challa/tony N/R, 103k

Summary: There were a lot of opinions on Tony Stark and T’Challa was not sure which, if any, to believe. He has done his research, extensively so. He poured over the information once, twice, three times, and a fourth for good measure and came to the same conclusion every time. But Tony was his soul mate and his heart hurt to be away from him like this. It would be foolish to assume he could ever see the man objectively.

Soulmate AU in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate

where the monarchy is headed (ao3) - biblionerd07 t’challa/sam, steve/bucky T, 44k

Summary: When T'Challa says he wants to court Sam, Sam is all in. And then come the "prince lessons." There's a lot more to this dating-a-king-thing than Sam realized.

When The Dawn Comes, Tonight Will Be A Memory Too (ao3) - awakencordy bucky/t'challa M, 10k

Summary: “He is awake, Your Highness. He is aware of his surroundings and has reacted positively to basic questions. He knows his name, he remembers the facility and he didn’t react when he learned that only a month has been passed.”

Watching through the glass, T’Challa nodded his thanks and moved to open the door.

“Would you like a bodyguard, Your Highness?”

[lorenzospurio]

N.E. 01/2023 - "Le tragedie a son pì parëssante ancheuj che ’n sle stagere d’Atene", poesia di Dario Pasero

Poesia nella parlata piemontese della zona centrale del saluzzese (nord-ovest della prov. di Cuneo) Malfé tiré a nent ij dëscambi dl’asar dj’anlev dësparì an sle stërnìe, pèj d’Alcesti, tragedie an quatr part sensa sërvan nì drama, dëstin dij cap ëd chité le soe marche an minca maginativa ’d cacam e ’d savant tan’ dësleivà ’nt soa ment da chërde d’avèj ant lor midem na cocarda archincà…

[claudehenrion]

Faites ce que je dis...

mais surtout pas ce que je fais... c'est le message subliminal de nos dirigeants dénués de toute pudeur : on cherche en vain un rapport entre ce qu'ils disent et ce qu'ils font : pas la plus petite relation de cause à effet. Malgré le mal que se donnent ces nuls pour camoufler leur ''nullitude'' –comme aurait dit une des plus ''royalement'' nulles parmi eux !-- on va sans (nul) doute devoir bientôt les désigner par un ''les archi-nuls'' qui, compte tenu de leurs performances dans tous les domaines, semble leur aller mieux encore que le ''les Nuls'' qui avait cours jusque là.

La grande foire annuelle sur le climat --qui ne sert qu'à maintenir la pression et l'angoisse sur tous les hommes de bonne volonté-- est revenue occuper la ''une'' de nos organes de Presse, depuis peu réservée en exclusivité à tous les faux problèmes qui n'intéressent, au fond, que de soi-disant ''élites auto-proclamées''. Conçue ''sur mesure'' pour assurer cette inutile fonction, la COP s'est réunie cette année à Dubaï, source d'or noir s'il en est (Attention : rien de raciste dans ce mot : ce ''noir'' ne contient aucune allusion à quelque couleur de peau que ce soit . Pas d'amalgame SVP !) --ce qui confirme si besoin était, son statut de ''gag planétaire''. Elle se glorifie de porter le numéro 28 (ce qui veut dire que cette ''commedia sensa arte'' a déjà eu lieu 27 fois... sans que rien de vraiment utile en soit jamais sorti... ce qui est tout de même ''fort de café'' --un Arabica, sûrement, à Dubaï ! Ils auraient pu au moins faire semblant d'accoucher d'une souris... Même pas !

La vérité est triste : un authentique roman noir (même remarque que ci-dessus !), mais un roman noir effroyablement coûteux pour les contribuables de tous les pays : pensez que cette troupe de prébendiers qui n'ont rien d'intelligent à dire se retrouvent à 88 000 –vous avez bien lu : quatre vingt huit mille nuls) pour discuter sans fin de météo, pour découvrir pour la n -ième fois qu'il fait plus chaud l'été que l'hiver dans l'hémisphère nord et le contraire dans l'hémisphère sud, pour redécouvrir que ''après la pluie, le beau temps'' et vice-versa, ou pour déguiser sous des verbiages technocratiques le fait qu'il y a toujours eu d'énormes variations climatiques sur notre Terre qui n'a pas eu besoin des hommes pour inonder, réchauffer, assécher, refroidir, geler, fondre, etc... dans des cycles gigantesques qui échapperont encore longtemps à toute compréhension de notre ''science''...

Il faut revenir sur ce chiffre tout-à-fait incroyable de 88 000. C'est énorme ! Avant de le lire, je ne croyais même pas qu'il y avait autant de ''Nuls-majuscules'', même en grattant les fonds de tiroirs... A l'immense scandale que constitue leur nombre, il faut ajouter que cette armada inutile est faite de tous les beaux esprits minables qui nous répètent à longueur de journée qu'il faut que nous remplacions la riche palette de nos sentiments et de nos émotions par une seule et unique préoccupation : notre ''bilan carbone individuel''.

Plus d 'avions, plus d'autos, plus de vaches (car ''elles pètent'', viennent de découvrir ces citadins claquemurés dans leur ignorance de la vraie vie), plus d'eau chaude, plus de chauffage dans nos appartements, plus d'industries, plus de voyages, plus d'enfants, plus de vieux... plus rien que le triomphe de leur idée aussi fixe qu'inutile : plus ils nous emmerdent, plus les chiffres se moquent d'eux... Le réchauffement, qui a l'air d'être de fait, l'est sur une période de temps bien trop courte pour quelque généralisation que ce soit, et à une échelle qui a peu ou pas de liens avec les ''chiures de mouche'' que sont nos émissions, à l'échelle cosmique : si la France était brutalement rayée de la carte, corps et âmes, le résultat ne serait pas perceptible sur les chiffres totaux !

Selon l'OCDE, citée par Les Echos, et contre tous les engagement officiellement pris par nos myopes-aveugles-sourds-progressistes-de-Gauche (''Croissant de bois, croissant de fer, si je mens, je vais en enfer'' , disent-ils), le soutien public aux énergies fossiles dans les principales économies du monde a doublé en un an, passant de 770Mds$ en 2021 à 1 481Mds$ en 2022. Et il en va de même pour tous les chiffres, toutes les mesures, toutes les tendances : tout se passe comme si, devant l'énormité des bêtises qu'ils profèrent à longueur de journée, la nature se foutait de leur gueule : les glaciers fondent plus vite... le CO², se fabrique sans limite... les températures évoluent en sens contraire de ce qu'ils annonçaient... et plus on contrôle les quantités et les chiffres ''non-significatifs'' qu'ils brandissent, plus le résultat atteint est à l'opposé complet de ce qu'ils racontent qu'il faudrait. Et Macron d'entériner toutes leurs folies en nous rendant peu à peu la vie invivable !

Le collectif scientifique Global Carbon Project a publié, pas plus tard qu'hier, un rapport qui établit que les émissions mondiales de CO² vont encore progresser de 1,1 % en 2023. A ce train-là , d’ici 7 ans, il nous sera impossible de limiter le réchauffement à +1,5°C max (objectif de la COP21, cet objet inexplicable des larmes de crocodile du comique Fabius, on s'en souvient !). De quoi faire basculer la COP28 dans l’ambition et l’urgence ? Euh… ''faut voir à voir'', d'après TTSO : sur les 88 000 participants enregistrés, près de 2 500 (3%) sont des lobbyistes des énergies fossiles, y compris la puissance invitante et les plus gros ''généreux sponsors'' de cette grosse farce....Les ''chikayas'' entre Macron et les vrais puissants du monde, depuis hier, s'expliquent tout seuls : l'Occident vit sur un nuage d'idées périmées qu'il veut imposer au monde qui, notamment à cause d'elles, l'a pris en grippe ''pour de bon''.

L'émirati Sultan al-Jaber,membre du gouvernement, ministre de l'industrie et des technologies avancées et président de la COP 28 (une autre pointure que Greta Thunberg, tout de même !) a répondu vertement au Guardian : ''Je suis ingénieur et je ne vois rien de réel dans tout ce que vous racontez. Je ne souscrirai en aucun cas à des idéologies alarmistes. Aucune étude scientifique, aucun scénario, ne dit que la sortie des énergies fossiles nous permettra d’atteindre 1,5 °C. (… ni pourquoi il faudrait les atteindre...). Montrez-moi la feuille de route d’une sortie des énergies fossiles qui soit compatible avec le développement socio-économique, sans renvoyer le monde à l’âge des cavernes''... Ambiance !

Venus en avion à 99 %, (NB : ''Bonjour le bilan-carbone'' !), les con-gressistes-prébendiers-profiteurs en goguette à Dubaï ont le choix entre 140 192 chambres (j'ai soigneusement vérifié ce chiffre) hors de prix, dans 769 établissements hôteliers déjà proches de la saturation, les hôtels dubaïotes flirtant avec un niveau d’occupation proche de 82 %. (NDLR - il est intéressant de savoir que, au moment où notre gouvernement et la hidalgo nous annoncent les pires catastrophes pour les Jeux Olympique, Dubaï (82 %) se classé au premier rang mondial, devant Londres (56,0 %), New York (55,3 %) ou Paris (51,2 %), selon les données de la société d’analyse de gestion hôtelière STR. Pour mémoire (j'ai aussi trouvé le chiffre exact), Paris ne dispose que de 85 000 chambre de toutes catégories. On voit vers où est en train de se réorganiser la vraie puissance du monde !).

Je n'ai pas le courage de coucher par écrit les tristes conclusions que m'inspirent ces chiffres, ces remarques, et le choc frontal entre la réalité du monde et le cauchemar dans lequel veulent nous faire errer sans but –et pour rien-- nos lamentables dirigeants. Si on les suit, il est gros comme le nez au milieu de la figure (j'écris ça parce que je dois me faire opérer sous peu d'un cancer sur ma narine droite) que nous serons pressurisés à mort (fiscalement parlant : ils savent faire), étouffé par des dystopies liberticides (ils savent aussi, très bien) … et que nous nous réveillerons avec des résultats... identiques à ''si on n'avait rien fait'' : à analyse sans sens, résultats insensés !

H-Cl