#after a month of being held there against his will lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kentopedia · 1 year ago

Text

i miss when we first met

FEATURING. dazai osamu x f!reader & f!reader x chuuya nakahara — wc: 15.1k

SUMMARY: you'd always been in love with Dazai, but you started to doubt that he'd ever cared for you in return. chuuya, though, had never shown you anything but true affection.

CONTENTS: nsfw 18+ ONLY, pm!dazai, pm!reader, mostly dazai x reader but…, unhealthy relationship dynamics, voyeurism, cheating, manipulation, smut, degradation, guns, angst, dazai is very bad at expressing emotions, pet names, horrible communication, unrequited (?) love, the list goes on bc they’re in the port mafia just be warned

note: this took me like 4 months to finish & i am so so nervous to post it lmao. i wanted to write something different & this is very outside my comfort zone! :) but it's dazai's birthday so i figured i might as well share it today

You rolled onto your side away from Dazai, still breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

Beside you, he had shifted onto his forearms, moving up against the headboards to sit up straight. The covers fell off of him, revealing the marks that you’d left all over his body, the scars from a life lived in the mafia.

Under the red silk sheets, you were silent, your head settling into the pillow as you stared at him.

He’d deny it, but he was beautiful, a tempting, alluring creature that you couldn’t get enough of.

But you also knew Lucifer had once been God’s most beautiful angel, and it only made sense that Dazai Osamu would hold the same kind of exquisiteness.

Dazai closed his eyes, rolled his neck as he leaned back, stretching out all of the stiff muscles. He didn’t touch you again, kept a distance as he wiped the sweat that had dried on his forehead, the fluids that had stained the sheets between you.

He used to talk to you, after something so intimate. Used to hold you in his arms and trace your skin with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. He hadn’t always been cruel when he fucked you, hadn’t always put his own needs before yours.

Of course, Dazai had never loved you. That was something you were certain of in your very core. But he’d held at least some shred of respect for you before becoming the head of the Port Mafia. Now, you didn’t think he saw you as anything more than a means to an end.

It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that Dazai spoke to you minimally when you two weren’t alone, that everyone in the Port Mafia knew you were nothing more than the woman who slept in his bed.

It didn’t matter because you loved him. You’d stood by his side since the beginning, since he’d recruited Chuuya, since he’d lost Oda.

Since he’d killed Mori.

You’d been with him through all of it, seen every horrid side to him, and you’d never once wanted to escape. Dazai had his claws in you, and he had them in deep. The thought of being anywhere but with him had never crossed your mind.

“Akutagawa told me what happened yesterday.”

You blinked, snapping out of your haze as Dazai regarded you with cool, condescending eyes. He was peering at you from over his shoulder, picking his dark button-up off the floor. The skin on his back was red from scratches, the lines dragging through his taut skin.

“Did he?” you said, looking down at your nails. You hadn’t expected anything less. Akutagawa did everything in his power to get exaltation from Dazai. “I’m sure his report was thorough.”

Dazai’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed, a darkened tint flashing in them. “That’s all you have to say?”

His voice was unamused, icy, and it reminded you that no matter how many times you crawled into his bed, let him use you however he wanted, he was still your boss. He was Dazai Osamu, the man whom everyone in Yokohama feared.

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Your gaze twisted away from him, unable to meet his hardened expression completely. “I was distracted. It was my fault entirely.”

Dazai made a noise in the back of his throat as he moved out of the bed. He sauntered across the room, so quietly and cat-like, and you buried yourself deeper into the mattress, wanting to sink into it completely.

“You’re lucky, then, that Akutagawa was able to deflect the bullets.” He began replacing the bandages that had slipped off of his face, covering his cheek with disgust.

He let you see him completely when it was just the two of you. It took every ounce of your self-control not to read into that, to wonder if it was just a habit leftover from when you were younger.

“I am lucky.”

Truthfully, you’d only hesitated for half of a second, momentarily lost in your own loop of suffering, and your opponent had gotten an edge on you. They’d shot at you, then the bomb, nearly prematurely blowing up the building.

“After decades of work, I would’ve thought you’d know better by now.” Dazai sighed wearily, like your presence irritated him. It probably did. “I’ll consider moving you. I’m sure there’s a place for you where you can’t get yourself killed if you fuck up.”

“Dazai—” you swallowed, a horrid tasting stinging your mouth as you remembered your time with him had come to an end. He was back to being Mori’s underling, the man who looked at the city like it was nothing but a chessboard. “Boss,” you remedied quickly, all too used to addressing him differently. It was difficult, sometimes, to recognize where Dazai began, and the Port Mafia’s boss ended. “It was a stupid error. In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever done something like that before?”

Dazai hesitated momentarily, before tensing his shoulders. He didn’t answer your question. “Don’t let it happen again.” A warning was in his eyes when they met yours through the mirror. “I don’t have the patience to find a replacement for you, and Akutagawa’s too valuable an asset to lose to a seasoned professional’s careless mistake.”

You exhaled, looking back down at your hands. The ones that had already been stained in so much blood, wrought with crime and bad intent. “Understood.”

You finally climbed out of the bed, missing the warmth that it gave you, even though Dazai’s cold body always sucked it away. He laid so stiffly next to you most of the time. You remembered when he used to sleep with his forehead pressed to the back of your neck.

As you dressed, Dazai kept his eyes on his work, never paying you any attention. You felt discarded, useless, and you wanted to hate him, wanted to hate yourself for longing to wrap your arms around him, hug him from behind.

“I’ll send you with Chuuya tomorrow,” he said, scanning reports and assignments that he’d thrown aside lazily last night. “An easy assignment outside of Yokohama. Think you can manage that?”

“Just give me the job.” You snatched the paper out of Dazai’s hand, and he didn’t say a word, only watched as you perused it. It was, really, the simplest task he’d given you in the past few weeks. You’d felt like he’d been overworking you just to avoid you. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Dazai’s smile widened, sinister, and wicked. He brushed his hand delicately over your shoulder, against your neck before patting you on the head. “I trust you won’t let me down.”

Going against every sensible atom in your being, you smiled wearily. His minimal display of affection warmed you, a deep pang settling in your soul. “Have I ever?”

“No.” He held a sort of awed fascination, twisting a part of your hair between his fingers. “How lucky someone must be to be my greatest enemy. To get the kiss of death from an angel is not such a bad way to die.”

He held your cheek in his delicate fingers, and you were putty in his hands, wishing that his eyes would soften, even by a fraction. That his hand would cup around his cheek like he meant it.

Instead, he pulled away, and you felt cold, cold, cold, drowning in your own emptiness.

You scoffed, trying to regain some power in the situation. “I’m no angel.”

“Hm,” Dazai hummed, dropping his head in his hands, resuming a spot behind the desk, the deep red chair much too similar to the one in his office, the one that Mori had inherited from the previous boss. “Perhaps not to others.”

And you grew hot, feeling that, maybe, Dazai was giving you a compliment.

It was at times like these that you saw the semblance of your previous relationship. When you could tease him without feeling the weight of his superior rank looming over you. When you could kiss him without tasting venom. When you didn’t have to wonder if it would be appropriate to touch him, or if you should keep your distance.

You wanted to quit him. Really, you did.

He was a horrible, loathsome person.

You’d never be able to stop loving him.

“I could never be any sort of heavenly creature, Dazai. My spot in hell was sealed the moment I sided with the Devil.”

Dazai laughed, the sound raw and dry, so humorless. “I hope you don’t mean me. Flattery will get you nowhere,” he tsked, the tip of his tongue scratching against the back of his white teeth.

You certainly hadn’t meant that as a compliment.

“Should I say goodbye before I leave?” you asked wryly, doubting that he’d even want to see you again. His image burned against the back of your eyelids, and you drank him in, hoping that when you died, his face would be the last thing you saw.

Dazai didn’t grace you with a simple yes or no. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his one eye exposed, mere centimeters of skin uncovered. “Goodbye.”

You nodded; lips pressed tightly together as you accepted the dismissal. With a sigh, you were out of the room, wondering why you hadn’t just showered before you left. Most of your clothes were in Dazai’s closet anyway.

You didn’t see him again before you left.

The assignment Dazai had given you was a few cities over, a task of infiltrating an enemy organization who’d gotten a little too close to the Mafia’s boundaries. It was simple enough, especially with Chuuya at your side, though the whole ordeal had you away from home for a weekend, and far too much time with your own thoughts.

Dazai had set the two of you up in a suite, one with two separate bedrooms and a shared living space. It was much more luxurious than you even needed, with a view overlooking the entire city and an extensive bar in the kitchen. The furniture was a deep, black leather, every accent dark in color.

It was conspicuous, but you’d grown too used to extravagance after being with Dazai. You allowed yourself to indulge in it.

A silly notion, really; the place you slept every night was much more lavish.

You scrubbed the blood off your face, your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror without recognizing the person before you. The water at the bottom of the shower was a macabre shade, staining the tiles as it swirled down the drain.

Shivering, you tried to reconcile all of the things you’d done, shelve them away before you could wonder if all of it was really worth it. If Dazai was really worth it.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, your skin rubbed raw, Chuuya was sitting at the bar, a freshly cracked bottle of wine before him. His back was tense, muscles strained as he regarded you with weary eyes, the darker shade under them obvious and alarming.

“Took you long enough,” Chuuya snorted, pouring himself a glass. The bottle was aged and dark, the label faded. He must have brought it along with him; it certainly hadn’t come from the hotel. “I was getting bored.”

You made a face, taking the seat beside him. “Well, there was a lot of blood.” You reached over to snatch the bottle, pressing it to your lips before he could protest.

“Help yourself, then,” His expression was sour, but his acerbic tone held a hint of amusement. “Do you know how expensive that is?”

“No.” You shrugged, taking a sip. Money had stopped meaning anything to you a long time ago. “Should I care?” The liquid warmed your throat on the way down.

“Probably not. You’ve surely got enough cash behind you to buy me another one.”

“Right.” You snorted and wondered how much of that stuff you’d have to drink before you’d stop feeling a thing. Thoughts of the crumbling bond that you and Dazai shared wouldn’t leave you alone. “And you don’t?”

Chuuya laughed, twirling the glass in his gloved hand. There was a hardened edge to him that you didn’t like. Opposed to Dazai, Chuuya had always been much more open with you, more willing to share his thoughts. “Well, we can’t all be Dazai’s favorite. You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, my dear. Whatever belongs to the Mafia belongs to you too.”

“Favorite?” You spat out the word, darkening at the mention of Dazai, the man who never seemed to leave your brain. It was always Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. The youngest executive there had ever been, the one who’d become the head of the Port Mafia just a few years later.

You hated him. Wished you could burn the memory of that haunted man entirely.

“Hm?” Chuuya leaned forward like he hadn’t heard you.

A bitter flavor blossomed on your tongue when you thought of saying his name out loud. “I don’t want to talk about Dazai right now.”

You brought the bottle to your lips again; it was starting to feel lighter.

“Why?” Chuuya’s eyes dimmed as he stared at you, looking for something hidden in your irises. A secret that wouldn’t be there. You’d always been too easy to read. “Did something happen?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about Dazai, and you immediately think something’s wrong?”

He blinked. Hesitated. “Well, I spent my teenage years listening to you talk about him like a lovesick fool. The subsequent years watching him stare at you in the same way.” He took the bottle away from you, tipping his head back. “Something must be wrong.”

You felt a flush at your neck, the skin itching with sweat. It was cruel of Chuuya to allude to any emotions from Dazai, when you knew they weren’t there. “That’s not true.”

Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t it?”

Although his temper had always been much worse than yours, you felt the same sort of anger claw at your back. The urge to scream at him became almost insuppressible. “Dazai doesn’t care about me like that.” You flopped down on the bar, alcohol fuzzing the edges of your senses. It felt nice, warm.

Maybe being away from the Port Mafia was better for you than you thought.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chuuya’s eyes had narrowed when your head fell forward, his fist clenching around the bottle.

“Stupid?” You immediately sat up, blood rushing straight to your head. Who was Chuuya to come and tell you everything he thought he knew? It was laughable, really. “He doesn’t care, and I think I’d know. Fuck you, Chuuya.”

You slammed your fist down on the table, hurt. You didn’t understand why Chuuya would side with Dazai when he knew how much the situation troubled you. How often had you bared your soul to him, told him how Dazai’s aloofness had hurt you over and over again?

His eyes softened, an apology immediately leaving his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” The words were vehement. Chuuya was shamelessly against your relationship with Dazai, always coming up with one reason or another to get you out of it. Now, it seemed, he was trying to defend it. “Dazai cares or he doesn’t. You can’t keep changing your mind based on the situation.”

“Dazai does care.” Chuuya said the words like they pained him to leave his mouth, each one dragging a dagger against his chin. “You think he’d keep you around if he didn’t?”

You did. You knew that you had use outside of Dazai’s feelings, just like Chuuya, just like Akutagawa. Just like every menial grunt who had a shred of value for the Mafia.

“He cares that I have value to him.” A sigh left your lips, and you sunk your chin onto your palm, feeling like nothing more than the dramatic woman in a Shakesperian tragedy. Really, you couldn’t remember when you’d become so pathetic. “What will become of me when I can’t sink a bullet into the skull of his enemies anymore?”

Chuuya frowned, the wrinkles deepening on his forehead. “No one can predict what Dazai will do.” He let you steal his half-full glass of wine, keeping the bottle safely tucked away from you. “Would it make much difference to you if we could?”

“I suppose not.” You’d grown tired, the subtle buzz of alcohol coming in quick on your empty stomach. “Nothing matters much anymore. I’ll never leave the Port Mafia.” Saying the words out loud made it more real than you’d intended, even though it was a fact that had sunk deep into your bones the day you’d met the dark-haired, suicidal bastard. “Why do I have to love him, Chuuya? Why can’t I love a good man?”

You thought, why can’t I love you instead, and left it unsaid. The words might have been too cruel. You knew the pain of unrequited emotions.

“Because you’re in the Port Mafia. Good men would know to stay away.” Chuuya drummed his fingers against the countertop before reaching out, contemplative. Though you remained unmoving in your seat, his hand still retracted before he touched you, as if burned. There was caution in his movements, every action calculated—Chuuya was usually the opposite, as intelligent as he was. “Besides. You’ve never tried to let Dazai go. You don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you said defensively, though even to your own ears, the statement was weak. Dazai was an addiction, and you’d go back to him time and time again. Even when, sometimes, you weren’t so sure there was anything good about him. “I just don’t know how. What would I do out there in the world without Dazai?” You laughed, amused. A normal life didn’t seem possible—you’d have no idea where to start.

Chuuya’s face pinched in disgust. “Take over the Port Mafia. Kill him and run it yourself.” He huffed, running a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “There’s a solution. If you really want to get rid of him.”

You blinked back at him. A moment passed; you’d forgotten he was looking for a response.

“I suspected as much.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, as you drew back in shame. “How long will you talk yourself into this endless cycle of torment? Dazai isn’t the same man that you fell in love with, and he never will be again.” He met your eyes, cold and guarded. “There’s nothing to be done about that. If you want Dazai so badly, put up with every single part of him. I’m tired of listening to the same grievances, time and time again.”

Chuuya made to stand, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist lightly. He glared at you from over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to convey your apology sincerely. “You’re completely right. I’ve never tried to let Dazai go, and maybe I can.”

You didn’t give Chuuya time to formulate a response. Before he could understand what was happening, you leaned forward, catching him off guard, and planted your lips on his.

For one singular moment, Chuuya had kissed you back, tasting your mouth in its entirety, before he shoved you away, scrubbing his skin like he’d been burned.

“Don’t do that.” He had a hand in your face, scolding you like a child. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

You stared at him; his dark eyes were full of an emotion you had never seen before. “Why not? You said I should try to let him go.”

“Not by kissing me, fucking hell.” Chuuya hissed, his voice just above a whisper like someone else was listening in. Something vile had been unleashed in him as he gesticulated around wildly. “You’re Dazai’s.” He scoffed. “Do you think any smart man would do anything with you, knowing you sleep in that monster’s bed every night?”

You sniffed, sticking your jaw out. Maybe, you’d been wrong all this time. Chuuya was like everyone else, wasn’t he? Holding you at a distance because you cared for the wrong person.

“I’m not leaving the Mafia. I’m not leaving Dazai.” You reached across the table, grabbing one of his cold hands. “I just want to be someone else for once. To know what it’s like for someone to care about me so completely.”

“It’s not going to be with me.” Chuuya yanked his hand away, laughing mirthlessly. “I never thought you’d try to manipulate me like this. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Your eyes flashed, infuriated. Chuuya looked at you with some kind of betrayal, like he wasn’t the exact same way, like he wasn’t the same kind of vile person that you were. “I know you’re in love with me, Chuuya. I know you’ve looked at me since we were sixteen years old, wished so badly I would look at you the same way.”

His jaw clenched, the anger giving way to something else. “Don’t start.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?” It was a genuine question; one you’d always been too scared to voice. Chuuya was the only person you considered to be a friend and knowing that he felt that way about you would ruin your friendship completely.

Though you had one sip too much of alcohol running through your veins, and you’d spent two days wondering how you could stop feeling a single thing for Dazai. Rationality had left you entirely.

Chuuya was silent, still watching you with hesitance.

“You’re the only person in the Mafia who really cares about me, aren’t you?” you said, softer, wondering if you could lure him in. Spring him into a trap you’d both be certain to regret in the morning. “You’re the one who talks to me about everything, who watches out for my well-being. Who’s never looked at me like I was anything but the prettiest girl in the world.”

And though Chuuya still didn’t trust your actions, his eyes had softened just a hair, his body releasing the tension. “You are.”

You smiled, but his compliment made you feel nothing but guilt. “Then why won’t you let me kiss you, Chuuya?”

“Because.” He scraped a hand over his face, breathing heavily like it was taking every ounce of his willpower to resist you “Dazai will kill me, you understand? He’ll kill you.”

“Wouldn’t you at least like to know?” You invaded his personal space. Each word you spoke cracked him a little bit more. “I know you’ve imagined me spread out before you, entirely exposed to you. How I’d look with my hips arching off the bed, crying out your name—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You felt like you were losing your mind. Something had cracked in you, and you couldn’t come back from it. Things would never go back to the way they were after those careless words had been tossed into the world. “You’ve always wanted me, so why, when I’m giving myself to you completely, won’t you accept?”

Chuuya swallowed. His voice had grown thick with desire. He raked his eyes over you cautiously. “You’re asking a lot from me, baby.” He held your cheek, grazing the bone in the gentle way that Dazai had forgotten. “Believe me, I want to. But you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I haven’t,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. The touch of another person felt so nice against your icy skin. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk.” You weren’t—the alcohol had just made you brave enough to ask. “Please, Chuuya.”

He swallowed thickly. “He’ll kill me.”

“And he’ll kill me. Just as you said.” You met his eyes completely, wondering why you couldn’t care for this man in the same way, why his lips weren’t as alluring as Dazai’s, why his voice didn’t set a blaze deep in your stomach. “Do you really care whether Dazai thinks of me as his?”

His cheeks were flushed, eyebrows pinched, and you spotted the moment he began to draw back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t.”

Then, you panicked, eyes becoming glassy as he released you, turning to retreat back to his bedroom, and you scrambled for another way, a way to bring him back to you.

“Chuuya, please,” you said, desperation in every syllable, and when he turned around, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “I just want to know what it’s like with a person who loves me. Can’t you give me that?”

That was it. That was all you had to say. When Chuuya bowed his head, you knew he’d given in.

“Why do you think I can give you what he can’t?” Chuuya’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m not that kind of man. I’m not the kind of man you’re looking for.”

“No,” you said. “You’re not that kind of man. You’re Chuuya. The only person that’s always been there for me.”

He hesitated, momentarily, before sweeping you into his arms, his touch the softest you’d ever felt. “Are you certain that you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if Dazai kills me.” Chuuya spoke into your mouth, carving the words into your aching heart. “You were always going to be the death of me, anyway.”

His lips were upon you again, kissing you with the hunger of a starved man, and you gave him back as much as you could, which was the despair of a lonely woman. His touch was one of loving hands as guided you back into the bedroom tenderly.

When your back hit the bed, he asked if you were okay, asked if everything was comfortable. The concern in his eyes had rarely been seen in Dazai’s own—you couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken care of you first.

“I’m fine, Chuuya,” you promised again and again, and you smiled, caressing the soft skin of his jaw.

His lips pulled back in return, and then your shirt was thrown over your head, carelessly tossed towards the corner of the room. Though, no matter how many articles of clothing you lost, the necklace that Dazai had given you still rested against your collarbone.

You cupped your palm around it, trying to avert Chuuya’s gaze as he stared down at the precious metal, something conflicting in his cool irises.

“It’s okay,” you said, doing your best to distract him. You wouldn’t take the necklace off. It didn’t matter how much Dazai had hurt you; you needed the reminder of the absolute infidelity you were committing. “Keep going.”

Feeling more anxious than you had before, you kissed Chuuya, trying to dispel the bile that gathered in the back of your throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chuuya said, kissing every inch of your face, his hands hovering over your chest. “I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Chuuya’s sentiments warmed you, but words weren’t enough. You pulled his vest off, then the buttoned-shirt and every other intricate article of clothing he wore.

It felt wrong. His height was wrong. His skin felt too warm under your palm.

“When did you fall in love with me?” you asked, breathing heavily. Desire pooled in your abdomen against your will, your own heart betraying you. Still, it was nothing more than the most basic reaction of human nature, raw and primal, unaffected by the organ that was jailed within your ribcage.

Chuuya was surprised by the question, and he paused, his face just inches above your stomach. “I think I realized when I was seventeen.” He huffed out a laugh, inhaling your perfume. “It was the first time I saw Dazai kiss you. I thought I was going to be sick.” He continued kissing down your body, sliding your pants past your hips. “I’d always wanted you. I guess I just didn’t realize until then.”

You exhaled, feeling tears spring to the corners of your eyes, ones you suppressed.

Dazai had given you flowers that day. You remembered how they smelled, the rainy spring breeze. The way the sun reflected in his brown irises, melting them into candied honey that brightened his entire complexion.

“Then take me, Chuuya. If you’ve wanted me for so long, then fuck me like you mean it.”

His dark eyes flashed, but his gentle caresses never turned rough, never sped through a single moment you had together. You smiled, your expression peaceful and open when he finally slid your panties off, your cunt throbbing as his finger brushed against your swollen clit.

Chuuya took his time with you, singing praises that you hadn’t heard in a long time, and you came once around his slender fingers, the ones that were much less skilled at knowing every place you enjoyed being touched.

When he finally sunk inside you, you still felt empty, unfulfilled. You tried to lose yourself in his mouth, in the taste of wine and Chuuya, and dug your fingers into his back.

“Feel so good around me, baby.” Chuuya whispered into your skin, imprinting the words into your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, though he wanted to, wanted to claim you as his own. “Taking me so well.”

You tugged on his hair as he kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, his breath hot and heavy. Though you cried out, you kept your voice quiet, still fearful that someone might hear, might know exactly what kind of betrayal you’d committed.

Chuuya thrust into you slowly, so much gentler than Dazai, hitting the spot deep inside of you that had you arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he said, choking on his own breath. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” He was full of desperation, his hands digging into your hips.

“Chuuya,” you said, holding his head between your palms.

He gave you the brightest smile in return, sad and meaningful. “I know. I can feel you squeezing me tighter. Let go for me, doll.”

His hair was just as soft, but it wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t short enough. His kiss didn’t feel the same, and you felt tears blurring your vision as you realized you’d never wanted him, you only wanted Dazai, and this was all wrong.

Still, you came around him, as he was buried deep inside you, but his name never left your lips, not even as a breathy whisper, because the one that was sitting there was Osamu.

And when he pulled out of you, you stroked him with practiced laziness, moving your hands in the way you knew Dazai liked, even though Chuuya felt so much different in your palm.

Chuuya kissed you as warmth flooded into your hand, and then he was breathing heavily, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He kissed you over and over, holding you tight, and you smiled, satisfied, because at the least, you knew this was what love felt like.

You’d never get it from the man you wanted, so you’d take it from Chuuya, even if it made you feel rotten inside.

The room smelled like sex and betrayal, and Chuuya took care of you, carried you out of the bed for a bath, and gently rinsed away the sweat and grime.

You were silent for most of the time, only reassuring him when he asked if you were alright.

For the first time, maybe you were. You imagined a future where you could learn to love Chuuya, a future where you were finally able to rid yourself of Dazai and start over again.

But it was nothing more than a delusion, a dream that would never happen. Dazai was a part of your soul. You knew that and Chuuya knew that, even as he closed his eyes next to you, the woman that would never give her love to anyone else. Your heart beat and bled for Dazai Osamu, every inch of your being meant for him. It would kill you to let him go, and if he died, you’d die right alongside him.

You turned away from Chuuya, burying your face in your hands, completely unaware that he’d left the bed to sleep in the other room.

You didn’t talk to Chuuya the next morning, not when you took a private car back to Yokohama, not when you stepped foot back onto the Mafia headquarters. Things between you had soured, just as you’d suspected, and you didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t think there was any way to go back from what had happened.

Higuchi was waiting for the two of you when you walked in the door, her blazer perfectly pressed, and her shirt tucked. She greeted you with a half-smile—gesturing towards the stairs. “The boss wants to see all of us for a meeting. He said you two would be arriving at this time.”

You nodded, and Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand his superhuman ability to know what’s happening all of the time.”

Swallowing, you followed Higuchi, trying not to hear the foreboding nature of Chuuya’s statement.

Most high-ranking Mafia members were in attendance, with Dazai at the head of the table, the dark wooden chair beside him eerily empty and welcoming. You took a seat, and Dazai’s eyes ran over you, smoothly and hastily, before a small smile appeared on his features. “No injuries?” he said, and though his tone was professional, you could hear the slightest bit of concern.

“None,” you said, and something in your voice cracked, ever so slightly.

You were such a fool. You’d never be able to hide something like this from Dazai.

He eyed you suspiciously, before sliding his glance over to Chuuya, who was as cool as usual. His face was shadowed by his hat, hiding any evidence of a sleepless night.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, tucking his palm into his hand. “Debrief.”

Your partner gave Dazai every last detail, summarizing as best he could, and sliding in the occasional sarcastic remark as he leaned back casually in the chair. Dazai listened with boredom in his expression, drumming his fingers against the table until Chuuya’s monologue was complete.

He turned to Akutagawa, who bowed his head an immediately launched into his own assignment.

You blinked—you hadn’t realized that Akutagawa’s squad had been sent elsewhere. It made no sense for Dazai to send you with Chuuya when your own division had a separate mission.

The meeting wrapped up quickly, and the members scattered, going their own separate ways for the afternoon. Chuuya refused to meet your eye as he got up from the table, one of the last to leave the room.

As you stood, Dazai closed a hand around your wrist, his thumb brushing your pulse.

“Was the hotel alright?” he asked, his head titled curiously. “You look tired.”

You took a sharp breath.

Fuck.

“It was fine, Osamu,” you said, and when his name slipped easily from your tongue, something in him changed. He loosened the hand on your wrist before releasing it entirely, the bandaged palm falling into his lap. “Thank you.”

Dazai nodded, turning away from you, and you’d forgotten that there were still other people in the room. Akutagawa, who lingered with morbid curiosity, and his sister, who had always sort of pitied you for your tumultuous relationship, bore witness to the brief interaction.

Behind them, Chuuya stood tense, his back straight as he crossed the threshold, sparing you only a glimpse before exiting into the darkened hallway.

“Alright,” Dazai said in a hushed voice, his face schooled back into the usual, guarded expression. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t much of a response, and he didn’t elaborate, keeping his steely eyes ahead as some low-ranking members trudged in for a meeting with their boss. He’d be busy all afternoon, it seemed.

You swallowed, and left, knowing that it was fruitless to try and keep a secret from him.

Chuuya waited for you outside, his arms crossed as he regarded you with a contempt that hadn’t been there before, such a contrast to the loving man you had seen last night. “This changes everything, you know?”

“I know,” you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he scoffed. “I was the fool. I made my choice.” Chuuya sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I meant what I said, though. Yesterday. It was all true, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

You felt a chasm open in your chest, and you wished the floor would’ve swallowed you whole. You were losing everyone, it seemed, and maybe, Dazai really did have a point with his talk about suicide.

When you stepped into the bedroom, Dazai was sitting on the edge of the bed, the setting sun casting a shadow of his own reflection. He was twirling a pistol around his pointed finger, staring at the wall with blank eyes.

You shut the door quietly, your hands shaking against the golden knob.

Though you hadn’t made a sound when you walked through the door, Dazai’s gaze was on you immediately, sensing your entrance.

You’d never been able to slip past him.

“You’re back early.” Those were the first words that came to your mind, your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was regarding you with disdain, his jaw set coolly. His hair turned bronze in the evening rays, loose strands scraping against the bandages.

“I am.” His jaw clenched, examining you with a singular, dark eye. You felt exposed under his gaze, laid bare for him to see no matter how much you shrouded yourself with. “You sound like you’re unhappy to see me.”

Dazai ran his finger along the trigger like he’d never held such a weapon before, the gun becoming an object of morbid fascination.

You exhaled. There was so much space between you, a distance you weren’t sure you’d ever cross again. Though you thought you knew Dazai better than anyone, in that moment, he was unreadable—a chapter of pages that had been torn out.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, standing tall. Despite your nerves, you were fixated on Dazai, always drawn to him like a moth to a flame, desperate to uncover the very thing that could kill you. “I miss you every time we’re apart. You’re no stranger to my feelings.”

You could offer him that, at the very least. An undeniable truth before everything between you shattered.

Dazai stood, his dark coat billowing out behind him as he finally came to face you, suddenly seeming much taller than you remembered. And with one look, you knew that he knew. He’d always been too smart for his own good.

“I’m not certain of that any longer,” he laughed, though it was a bitter sound that clawed its way up his throat. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead.” Dazai stood before you with a smile that was so sweet it was almost sinister. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did?”

You weren’t sure which one of you would blink first, caught in some deadly staring contest. Most people would’ve surrendered to him by now.

“Why?” you jutted your chin out, refusing to give in to him in any way. If you were going to die, and you were, you would make sure Dazai knew everything you’d never told him. “You already know.”

“No.” He poked the gun into your cheek, right beneath the sharp bone. He’d clicked the safety off moments before. “I want to hear you say it. You betrayed me.”

When you refused to say a word, Dazai hissed and cocked the gun. He pressed it to your temple, the metal cold against your delicate skin.

“Say it.”

You sniffed. He wasn’t giving in, and instead, stood there silently, unmoving until you finally caved. There was something about the color of his eyes. No matter how much they hardened, you still remembered the young man he used to be. The one who wasn’t quite so cold, who picked you flowers, even with blood dripping down his arm.

“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “I fucked Chuuya.”

Dazai blinked. Then, he started laughing. Crazily, maniacally. You saw too much of your old boss in him that it made you sick.

“Shameless.” Dazai took a step back and dropped the gun to his side.

“What?” you sneered, pressing yourself up against him, refusing to be intimidated by the man that had been yours for years. “Should I be ashamed?”

Dazai’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. “Yes,” he said, fists curling at his sides. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Dazai grew quieter, flicking a strand of hair out of your face. “Do you feel no remorse?”

“You can’t be serious. What have you done for me, Dazai?” You grew still, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you again. “You’re not upset I was with another man; you’re just upset that it was Chuuya.”

You poked him in the chest, a hot stream of air exhaling through your nose.

“I gave you everything, didn’t I?” The two of you spoke at each other, avoiding the answers, never acknowledging what the other had to say. Around and around you went, an endless circle until one of you finally conceded. “I’ve given you the world, and you still wanted more.” Dazai finally broke free of your loose grasp, stroking your cheek. “What can Chuuya give you that I can’t? I ask for nothing but honesty.”

There was no jealousy in the tone, no sorrow; it was the most genuine question he’d asked you in months. The inquiry of a man who’d lost sight of himself in the past few years, and who’d somehow, over time, forgotten what it meant to care for another.

“You gave me nothing,” you said, but somewhere along the way, your cheeks had grown wet. You’d been struck by the sudden affection in his voice, the softness harsher than a slap to the face.

He was a horrible man, the worst kind of man. Yet, you couldn’t imagine a life without him, a world where you existed alone.

The truth rested at the edge of your tongue. It wouldn’t solve much, your affection for him never had solved much, but at least he would understand.

“This was never about wanting more. I never wanted Chuuya. You’re a fool if you think that.”

Dazai was silent. You pressed on.

“I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve devoted my entire life to you. I do everything you ask.” You were breathing heavily, big gulping breaths that contained minimal oxygen. “I asked for nothing in return. Nothing but for you to care about me, and you never did.”

“Is that the case?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.

You ignored him, your confession leaving on one heavy breath, a string of words incomprehensible to your ears. “But Chuuya loves me. He always has, and he made certain I knew that.” You paused, averting your eyes. The entire city could be seen from the window over his shoulder. “He told me all of that, and you know what I thought the whole time?”

Dazai scowled.

“I wished that he was you instead. I wanted it to be you so badly, I wanted it to be you saying those things to me, kissing me like I was the most important thing in the world.” You took his wrist again, pressing the gun back to your temple. The cool metal was almost soothing against your skin. “Please, Dazai. Give me this one last thing. I’m begging you to kill me. I can’t take this any longer.”

His finger rested on the trigger.

“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted to die at anyone’s hands but your own.” His hand felt just as it always had in your palm, his fingers much longer, but his skin so soft. It was almost comforting, how familiar he was, and you longed to be a part of him, to bury yourself deep within him and wear his skin as your own.

Dazai’s expression twitched, and you smiled at him, the taste of salty tears spilling into your mouth.

As you closed your eyes, you prepared for the noise, hoping your blood splattered on Dazai’s coat and stained it, the proof of your existence inerasable. You hoped that Dazai would grow to regret it, would realize that your love for him was close to unconditional.

But the violence never came. The cool metal fell away from your skin, and when you opened your eyes again, Dazai’s shoulders had slumped, the very image of defeat.

“Do you honestly think I can bring myself to kill you?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, blinking your eyes open. You reached for the gun again, but he drew back, as if stung. “Afraid to lose your best assassin?”

“No.” Dazai’s eyes were hard, his frown set deep into his face. “I’m afraid to lose the woman I love. The most important person in the world to me.”

You stared. Blinked. Then, the worst kind of emotion washed over you.

You swallowed over and over, trying to get the bile out of your throat. You’d wanted to be done, wanted to escape. And yet—

“Don’t say that.” you shook your head, backing away as Dazai inched closer, too close and you felt yourself getting sucked back in, remembering that you’d loved him for years, and you’d never love anyone else. “Fuck you, Dazai. Stop toying with me, and just kill me."

“I love you. I thought you knew that my darling angel.”

You were crying harder, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.”

“No?” Dazai had grabbed your wrist again, but it was so soft. “I thought you were smarter than that. Did you think you were partnered with Akutagawa at random, and not for the sole reason that I knew he’d do everything in his power to protect you? Did you think I moved your seat next to me at meetings because you were nothing more than my stupid whore? Bought you everything you ever wanted because I couldn’t stand you?”

“Yes,” you said, sniffing, feeling yourself melt where he touched you, itching to reach up and pull the bandages off his face, see the beautiful features beneath them that he hid from the world. “You don’t care about me."

“I do care,” he said, fingers grazing your chin. “I’ve killed for you. I took over the Port Mafia so I could give you everything you wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?”

“Because I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. I wanted you, Dazai Osamu. That was all.”

Dazai frowned, and then he bowed his head, kissed your neck, then around your earlobe, and it was the softest you’d ever felt in your entire life, a gentleness you hadn’t known he was capable of. When his hands snaked around your stomach, pulling you back against him, you were lost in his adoration.

“You never said anything,” he said, kissing your shoulder, breaking the tension in the muscles. You were his, in every lifetime, you’d be his. “I thought you were… happy?”

“How could you think that? I’m not happy, Dazai. I’ve never been less happy.”

“Not even when I tell you that I love you?” he kissed your knuckles.

“Do you love me enough to be a better man? Do you love me enough to let me sleep in your bed and see your whole heart instead of the fragmented pieces that you sliced up just to hide?”

“Yes.” The word was resounding, resolute. “I love you enough to forgive you.”

You held him at a distance, lips falling apart easily. “But I don’t want to forgive you.”

“You will.” Dazai smiled, that irritatingly knowing smile of his that you’d fallen for in the first place. “You will because I mean it this time.”

“You never apologized,” you looked away, trying to find the strength to move. You were enraptured, in every fiber of his being. “You never will. You never do.”

“I never knew anything was wrong,” he frowned, and it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and you had him so close that you just wanted to forget anything had ever changed. “How was I to fix it if you never told me?”

His words were full of poison, but his voice was so soft you couldn’t help but fall back into him. Perhaps, you should’ve said something. Maybe your actions had never been enough.

“How long have I been at your side, spent hours listening to your every word, even when they didn’t make sense to me? You should’ve known, Dazai. I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that.” Your words were losing their bite, and his lips quirked up, knowing that you were slowly coming back to him, clearing you of the sins you had committed.

He was hesitant, thoughtful, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And perhaps, that was the final straw in your resistance, his gentle kiss enough to set your soul on fire.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Dazai said, his lips ghosting over yours, handing over the apology like a gift. “Won’t you give me a chance to fix it now?” It felt like a bad idea. Dazai wasn’t deserving of any more chances; you’d already given him years of second chances, had always given him the benefit of the doubt.

“You expect me to believe you’ll let us off scot-free?” you said, your face deadly close to Dazai’s. “What about Chuuya? Will you kill him in my place.”

“You’ve got me in your hand, love. If you want me to punish Chuuya, just say the word. I’ll kill him if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t. That was the farthest thing from what you wanted, but you worried that if you sounded too enthusiastic, he might just follow through with it.

Instead, you pulled him to you, grabbing the dark tie that he wore around his neck. He grinned into your lips, his saccharine smile seeming much too deadly to be all that sweet. “Do you honestly think I believe a word that you’re saying?”

“You want to,” Dazai said, curling his hand around your jaw, his fingers brushing your ear. “That’s what matters the most.” He kissed your lips, and you could taste the difference, all the love he poured into it this time. It wasn’t like kissing a statue. “It’s all true, anyway.”

You broke away, breathing. “I won’t do this anymore, Dazai.” You finally had his hand in your own, placing the gun back to your temple. “You’re not the man you once were, and you’ll never be him again.” The smile that graced your lips was sad, though it was knowing. Things were always going to end this way.

Dazai’s face wrinkled as he tried to decipher all the words you’d never spoken. “I’m not the same man, that’s true, but my affection for you has never died.” He cupped his other hand around your cheek, hesitantly keeping the gun to your temple, squinting with his head bent.

“You’re the leader of the Port Mafia, and such a ruthless man wouldn’t let a betrayal go unscathed.”

There was a wave of silence while the two of you stared at one another, sifting through the situation with hardness in your jaws, the tension palpable within the air. Dazai straightened, clarity in his irises as a smooth smile burned onto his lips.

“Is that what you want?” he said innocently. “You want to be punished for your insurrections?”

Your mouth grew dry, but you held your ground firmly, swallowing back all the uncertainty. Perhaps you didn’t want to die. Perhaps you did. You just hated the gaping hole inside of you that never seemed to leave. “I want you to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Dazai laughed, then the hilt of the gun was against your temple once more. He held your chin steady between his forefinger and thumb, regarding you with thinly veiled disgust. “You’ve never wanted that before. Not when I asked you to die alongside me, to follow me far into the afterlife.” He sighed, releasing your chin before cocking the gun. “This isn’t about death at all.”

“What—”

“You want me to claim you, is that it?” He clicked his tongue before leaning forward, sneering. “Perhaps it’s that other way around. You want everyone in the Mafia to know I belong to you, hm?’

You blinked, though you began to feel weak in the knees, the eyes that you knew so well suddenly intimidating. “I never said—” but even then, your voice wavered, unsteady and uncertain of the immediate heat that had swirled under your skin.

Dazai’s mouth curled, a gruesome smile there. “I know you better than anyone. I’ve always known exactly what you want. Even though I shouldn’t forgive you, I can’t help myself.”

You swallowed, and Dazai had taken a step forward, pushing you with him, the gun still swaying at your temple, even when the backs of your thighs hit the bed. You fell onto the mattress, and he was on top of you, his finger caressing the trigger as he collapsed.

Dazai had never scared you, not even when he was a child you’d barely known, the teenager shaped in Mori’s image. Though, now, the unreadable expression on his face was alarming you, and you wondered if all this time, you should’ve been fearful.

Still, even with your underlying hesitance, you felt a wave of desire crash over you at the sheer need in his eyes. It wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, but there was something else there. Maybe it was the love you’d just never noticed.

“Osamu,” you said in a quiet voice, not afraid, but not confident either. Your finger brushed the point on his wrist—it was the same heartbeat you’d always recognized.

“What?” he said, taunting you menacingly as he towered above you. “You were so bold just a second ago? What happened, darling?”

Unable to do anything but blink back at him, Dazai brought his thumb to your lips, brushing it across the plump skin before dipping it into your mouth.

Unprepared, you nearly choked, eyes blown wide as you stared back at him. Though, there was a command within his eyes, and you obliged, sucking as you watched the saliva drip down to his palm. Dazai pulled it away from your mouth with an obscene pop, giving you a sweet smile from his position above you.

Despite your humiliation, you shifted your hips on the bed, bringing your thighs together to provide you with a fraction of relief. Dazai’s eyes flashed at the movement, his smirk widening with an amusement.

“You’re nothing more than a dumb slut, aren’t you?” Dazai’s hand ghosted of your stomach, settling on the inside of your thigh momentarily. You ached with need, swallowing your pride and any demands that you could make of him. “Had Chuuya all to yourself this weekend, and still expect me to fuck you senseless.”

Your brow furrowed, and you opened your mouth before shutting it, lips still covered in your own spit. “Osamu,” you began, attempting to diffuse the situation, to explain that what had transpired between you and Chuuya meant nothing, but he never gave you the opportunity. “It wasn’t—”

Dazai’s gaze hardened, the adoration disappearing the moment you dared to speak. His fingers deftly wrapped around your throat, thrusting you into the mattress with enough force to quiet you entirely. “Shut up. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask. Understand?”

You could do nothing but nod, hating yourself for the ache that had grown more and more intense in your core, desperate for some sort of contact. Dazai, distracted with his own task of tearing your top off, had failed to notice the breathing that had grown heavier, the flush of heat that spread on every inch of your body.

His slender fingers finally removed the confining pants, a task he did skillfully with one hand still wrapped around your throat. Then, his fingers were against your aching cunt, and you twitched, letting out a heavy sound from the singular movement. You could feel yourself pulsing against nothing, desperate for his fingers between your legs.

“Pathetic,” he said, his fingers lazily dipping through your folds over your underwear. “I’ve barely touched you. How can you be this fucking wet?”

“Please,” you said quietly, your own hand aching to take over, if only to provide yourself that relief that he refused to give you. Every time you shifted into his hand, he brought it away, taunting you with the release you so craved.

“Please?” Dazai was mocking, cruel, every bit of the person people expected him to be. The one he never had been with you, not until recently. “You’re nothing more than a greedy little whore. Must have been why you fucked Chuuya without a second thought, huh?”

You were silent, staring him down with a clenched jaw. Your brain was twisting, betraying you, turning into empty cells within your skull, and you weren’t sure how to handle the accumulation of emotions that you felt for the man before you, the one who’s love had always been purposeful and merciless.

“Well?” he said, tightening a hand to close off the air to your lungs, trapping you with his strength. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and when your words sounded choked, when you clawed at his wrist, he loosened his grip just a hair, the only indication that the man you loved was in there at all. Still, your hips acted of their own accord, shifting further into his hand. “I’m sorry, Osamu, I am.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he finally slipped his fingers under your panties, rubbing your aching clit. “I wanted you; I needed you and you were never there, but Chuuya was, and—”

You were a stammering mess of desperation and regret, feeling unglued under Dazai’s hands, like the words you’d been meaning to say could finally come out. He was the only one who’d ever listened to you completely, who you’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. Yet, it had been so long since you’d let yourself be open with him, and now that the opportunity arose, you were too weak to deny it.

“I was always here,” Dazai said harshly, and you were almost certain that his anger was genuine, the tone breaking in his voice a result of true sadness. “You never came to me, and I thought that’s how you wanted it to be.” His fingers sunk into you, and you threw your head back into the pillow, moaning sinfully with the lewd sound of him sinking in and out of you, the wetness collecting with every movement.

“You never showed me you cared,” you cried out, certain that there were tears streaming down your cheeks, and you should’ve been humiliated. It was humiliating—the way you were clothed in nothing, crying as Dazai laughed at you, taking full control over your body. How he could’ve done anything to you in that moment, and you would’ve let him, because that was just how much you wanted him.

“And Chuuya was the solution?” He grabbed your cheeks with the hand that had once been around your throat, pinching them to make you look at him. “You going to pass yourself around the rest of the Mafia, sweetheart? Who’ll get a taste of you next? I’m not so certain even Akutagawa would pass up the opportunity.”

His words were senseless, meant to hurt you, and you still couldn’t stand the anguish that was in his eyes.

“No,” you said, and you leaned up, wanting so badly for his lips to be on yours, to feel some semblance of the connection that you’d always had with him. “I wouldn’t, Dazai, I’m yours.” You choked on the sounds of your own moans, your thighs shaking with every change in pressure. “I’m yours. Please, I need you.”

You were certain there were marks on your neck from his fingertips, and Dazai ghosted his mouth along the delicate skin there, biting at the soreness from before. You jerked, digging your nails into his back as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Don’t make demands.” Dazai leaned back, and you missed the closeness, the sharp scent of him lingering in your space. “Chuuya hasn’t been a part of this conversation yet. Should we get him up here? I hadn’t considered what to do with him, but this might suffice.”

Dazed and drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you, it took you a moment to process what he was saying. His hand was already swiping through his phone, picking the number of the man that you least wanted to see.

“No, Osamu, don’t—” you cried out, and yet, you made no move to stop him. Instead, you remained pliant on the bed as he sunk another finger into you, his thumb moving in agonizing circles against your clit. He tucked the cellphone under his chin, smiling at you maliciously, controlling you with every blink of his lashes.

You had always had trouble resisting him. Now was no different.

Chuuya answered as you released another moan, and Dazai was grinning wickedly, as if some larger scheme had finally come together, the culmination of everything he was plotting. “Boss?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, and you flinched, locking gazes with his deep brown irises, the color so alluring and beautiful, a shade that had darkened with each misfortune you’d endured together. You hated him, you did, but there was a fine line between the two, and your love for him would die with you, would transcend whatever simple rules the afterlife placed on Earth. “How quickly can you make it up here?”

You could hear the hesitation on the other side; Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment.

“A couple minutes, I think. I haven’t left the building.”

“I’ll give you a couple minutes then.” Dazai’s words were clipped as he hung up the phone, throwing it to the arm chair a few feet away from the bed.

His attention was back on you completely as you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure before Chuuya came into the room. Though it was so hard when the pools in his irises were pulling you deeper, locking you into a heaven that you’d never been able to reach.

Dazai pulled away briefly, his soaking fingers leaving your body to alleviate his cock from the confines of his dark pants, hovering before you.

You swallowed, not able to remember the last time your desire for him ached this badly. Your eyes trained on the very part of him that you wanted inside of you, the tip flushed so beautifully. There was nothing on your mind but him, how you wanted every part of him, even if it meant enduring misery after misery, and Chuuya was right—if you were to love Dazai, you needed to love every part of him, even when it seemed impossible.

A whine escaped you and you were reaching out to him, knowing he’d never let you live down your humiliation, but the future was not a part of your logical thinking, not now. “Want you inside me.”

“Surely you can hold off for a few minutes,” Dazai said, though the way his toned chest pressed to your own, and how he kissed your face with a tenderness you’d forgotten made it nearly impossible for you to refrain. “So desperate for my cock.”

You wanted to touch yourself—you would’ve, had you not been so nervous of the fact that Chuuya could come in at any minute.

“Tell him to leave,” you said, dragging your fingers through his hair, finally kissing him like you’d been wanting to, and the sound was sinful, heavy with lust as you forced a taste into his mouth, wishing every part of him was a part of you too. “I don’t want him or anyone else, just you, I promise—”

Dazai cut you off and ignored your pleas; he smiled against your lips, though it was anything but kind. “I think he’ll enjoy seeing you like this, won’t he? You’ve got such a filthy mouth on you when you’re fucked properly.” He kissed his way down your chest, resting his face just above your breasts. “I bet Chuuya didn’t see this side of you, did he?” Dazai licked a circle around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ve done nothing but call you names and you’re dripping all over the sheets.”

You shook your head, feeling pained by how badly you wanted release.

“Of course not.” Dazai sat back up like he could sense Chuuya approaching from the other side of the door, his presence bold and detectible. “He’s forgotten what’s mine, after all.” He smiled at you once more, kissing you with a kind of love that only he could portray, the kind that was nowhere close to innocent. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. Be good for me, okay?”

Dazai had always known what to say to you, even when your relationship was falling apart, even when you hated him more than you loved him. His words could be so tender, the praise melted in with the unkind quips of his tongue. It was the gentlest tone he’d used since your clothes had come off, and you couldn’t help but melt under him, nodding like you’d give him anything he asked of you.

Of course you would.

Dazai traced your features delicately, grinning maniacally, ears attuned to the quiet that broke from the footsteps approaching. His cock was lined up against your dripping hole, and it took every ounce of restraint not to plant yourself on it, trying so hard to please him, the sinful man who held too much power over you.

“You’re so pretty like this, aren’t you? My beautiful little whore, always willing to take whatever I give you.”

“’Samu,” you babbled, blinking away the tears as you latched onto him, wishing you could spare yourself the humiliation, but too drunk on him to care. He shifted you forward, taking your thighs in his hands and placing them around his waist. “I can’t take it all at once—”

“You’ve done it before. Do it again.” He growled, squeezing your throat once more in one smooth motion, thrusting into you. And though you had doubted how prepared you were, he slid into you easily, already so loose and pliant from his fingers. “See? Never forgot the shape of me, sweetheart. Even after you’ve been with another man.”

You let out a choked moan as Chuuya walked into the room, lost in the ache and the burn and the pleasure that came with loving and fucking Dazai.

There was one singular pass of silence before Chuuya spoke, letting the door shut with a quiet click on the hinge. “Boss—” Chuuya was hesitant, though his eyes were immediately drawn to you, raking over your blissed-out form. “You said to—” His hand was still on the knob, though he was distracted, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, ashamed but so full of want that it ached.

“Come in, Chuuya,” Dazai said sharply, his words solid and commanding, and you couldn’t help it when you clenched around him, drawing him further into you with nails scraping down his back. “We should discuss something.”

“Well, can we talk about it when you’re not in the middle of fucking your girl?” Chuuya asked, swallowing down the desire he hid so poorly. His cheeks had flushed, words just on the edge of stumbling and slurring together. “Another time, maybe.”

“This is the perfect time, actually,” Dazai stopped moving, already breathing heavily above you as you stared, whined, needing so badly for him to stop teasing you. “Besides,” his eyes drifted knowingly to Chuuya’s obvious erection as he laughed darkly. “I don’t think you mind so much.”

Dazai pulled back painfully slowly before sinking into you with a quicker thrust, your back arching off the mattress to catch even more of him inside of you. A barely noticeable sweat had broken against his hairline, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape in awe at the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you somehow had wrapped around your little finger.

Your breathing had grown unsteady as his cock got deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting where you’d never been quite able to get with your fingers, the thickness of him catching on every sensitive part inside of you. His hand was back between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer, not as he carried on a conversation with Chuuya, who watched you with darkened eyes, barely holding himself back.

“Please, Osamu,” you were practically begging now, your cheeks glistening with wetness as you clawed at the muscles between his shoulder blades, surely leaving bruises all down his spine. “Please, please, let me cum.”

Dazai made a tsk noise in the back of his throat. “Not yet. I don’t think you deserve it quite yet, does she, Chuuya?”

Chuuya sniffed, shifting uncomfortably as his pants grew tighter. “Gonna punish her all day, boss? Such a pretty thing should get what she wants, shouldn’t she?”

Dazai dropped his chest closer to you, going deeper into you, and you cried out his name, though your eyes were still locked with Chuuya, as if he were going to be your savior. You remembered how gently he’d touched you, how careful he was, and you wondered why you’d ever wanted that at all.

“Chuuya thinks he can fuck you better than me, darling, but you know that’s not true, don’t you? He’d spoil you too much, but this is what you want, right? You want to be called a stupid fucking cockslut.” Dazai grinned against your lips, whispering in a breath that only you could hear. “Just so that at the end of it all, you’ll be my good girl.”

You whimpered, soaking him as you clenched harder. Your brain had gone numb from the feeling of him. Dazai was smiling viciously, but you could see the underlying tenderness.

“She looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she Chuuya? Not a single thought in that beautiful little head of hers.” He smiled at him knowingly, dark hair flopping into his eyes as the rest of the loose tendrils stuck to his forehead. “You’re lucky. You’ve gotten two chances to see her now. Twice as many as most men who fantasize about fucking a woman that sleeps in another man’s bed.”

Chuuya’s voice was raw, his words cracked. “You’re sick, Dazai,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “Putting on a show like this just to punish me.”

“You and I both know you’re enjoying this.” Dazai traced your cheeks sweetly, kissing your lips deeply. You let out a strangled breath into his mouth, something on the precipice of a moan. “Can you do one thing for me, pretty girl? One more, then I’ll let you cum, how’s that?”

You nodded, desperately, as Dazai’s fingers finally dipped back down, rubbing agonizingly light circles.

“Tell Chuuya who’s making you feel this way,” Dazai said, pushing your face away from him to stare straight into Chuuya’s dark eyes. “Tell him who you love the most.”

“You,” you gasped out, clenching tighter around him. What an easy request to make—you’d never loved anyone else. “I’m in love with you.”

Dazai sniffed, though he was patient, slowing his thrusts almost to a stop. “Not good enough. I need you to be more specific.”

You cried out, locking your ankles onto his hips, trying to force him back into you. But Dazai didn’t budge, watching you until you provided the answer that he so desired. “I love you, Dazai.”

He frowned, shaking his head once more. “My name. Say it. It sounds so sweet from your lips.”

“Osamu,” you choked out. “I love you, Osamu. I love you. I love you.”

Dazai finally smiled above you, gently tracing your cheeks with his thumb as he slowed down the pace of his hips. “I love you too, darling.” His words were soft, whispered into your lips before he turned away, meeting eyes with Chuuya across the room. “See?”

Chuuya was glowering, stiff as a board, his face pink, and his legs shaky. “I got it, Boss.” He choked out, though his eyes were on you, unable to leave your body, even as he tried so hard to be polite. His aching cock strained against his pants, and he breathed sharply, swallowing over and over. “Do I need to be here any longer?”

Dazai laughed, and you thought he looked so pretty when he did that, his smile flashing wide and alluring, the corners of his eyes crinkling marginally. “Never said you had to stay. I figured you’d want to watch her come undone one last time.”

Chuuya, for as noble as he wanted himself to be, made no move to leave, glued to the spot on the floor beyond your bed. He was just across the room, but you couldn’t focus on anyone but Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, the man who you’d killed and bled and committed horrible acts for.

You said his name again, scrambling to bring his attention back to you, hands on his face with a desperation you didn’t realize you’d possessed.

And Dazai, with the kindness of a man he wasn’t, placed his hands just above your stomach, leaving kisses across your chin as he thrust into you, sweetly, menacingly, one last time. “You did so good, my love. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my cock, beautiful.”

You jerked, squeezing around him as you felt the pressure in you finally release, the colors shifting and changing between your high as Dazai brought you in and out of an orgasm, his words reaching your muddled brain with soothing noises. Your body twitched as your muscles spasmed, sweat gathering in the space under your knees. There was little in your mind, save for the dark-haired man that had quickly become your whole world.

You smiled lazily, lacing your fingers with Dazai as you slowly began to come back to yourself. The world around you was empty. Chuuya had all but disappeared into a block of nothingness as you stared into the world itself. If there was no Dazai, there was no you, and it was as simple as that. He was everything you’d ever wanted—you’d be a fool to ever left him go.

As you regained your breathing, still sensitive all over, Dazai came inside you, spilling hot release into you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too busy being satisfied with the feeling of him all over you. His hands never left you—he was delicate, caring, pressing loving touches into your skin as you recovered from your high.

“I’m yours, Osamu,” you said, closing your eyes as you basked against the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him, bury yourself in the warmth of another body.

He smiled against your cheeks, lips flushed and bruised. “I know you are,” he said to you only, before pulling away. You shivered, but opened your eyes, and he’d already held the gun out to you, presenting it as an offering. “That’s why you’ll be the one to kill him.”

It took you all of ten seconds to remember who him was, and that the man who had borne witness to your most intimate moments with Dazai had not disappeared and was still gawking at you from the corner of the room.

“What?” you asked stupidly, your jaw falling open.

“You heard me.” Dazai pressed the pistol into your palm, curling your fingers around the handle. It was like ice against your hot body, and though it’d been years since your first time firing such a weapon, you suddenly felt like you were there again, uncertain, and afraid of the dangerous firearm. “Kill him.”

You stared at Chuuya, the honest man who, even despite his rough exterior, had been there for you since you were kids. You remembered how the three of you had been so close, for such a long time, until Dazai had gone and killed Mori and fucked it all up.

It felt wrong. The entire situation was wrong, and it never should’ve come to this.

“It’s Chuuya,” you said with tired eyes, something in your voice pleading and desperate.

Dazai shrugged, holding you close against him as you struggled to sit up in the bed. Your muscles ached and you were still so sensitive, but reality was coming back to you. This was all a mess, and you wanted so badly to feel shame at everything you had done, but you were trying so hard just to–

“You’d think I’d let him live after what he did?”

“Osamu.” You weren’t sure you could bear it. You’d always sworn to kill whatever adversary Dazai and the Port Mafia faced, but Chuuya would always be an exception. You wanted him in your life as much as you wanted Dazai, someone you could trust without fail, who would listen to you complain even when it hurt him. “I won’t do it. He’s my friend. I thought he was yours too.”

Dark eyes full of disdain met your own, and he pinched your jaw once more, a mixture of devastating anger. “I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’ll kill him if you won’t. Then, I’ll kill you. Then myself.”

You shoved him away, suddenly wishing you weren’t so exposed, on display in the middle of the room. “Then fucking do it already, Dazai. What are you waiting for?” A tear broke free from your eye, and you wiped it furiously, not giving him a chance to mock you.

“Stop.” Chuuya finally spoke, his voice drawing your attention like a commandment, and you fell silent, refocusing on him as he bowed before you, dropping to his knees. Eyes locked onto your own without a single fear, cruel acceptance surrounding dark pupils. “It’s alright. I deserve to die. I’ve broken your trust, boss. I might as well be a traitor to the Mafia.” He swallowed, though he was unwavering. “I don’t want to live with this feeling any longer.”

“Don’t say that.” you spat, hating that such a strong man was giving himself over, exposing every weary weakness that he’d come to carry. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” He sighed, straightening his spine as he leaned forward towards your hand, much as you had done before, and you realized that this was such a sick, twisted change of fate. That the affection you’d always doubted was real after all, but Chuuya was still left playing the fool.

Perhaps, you were of the same vein, wanting desperately to die in the heavenly hand of the one you loved most. You could understand him for that. You could grant him one final wish.

“Do you regret any of it?” Dazai asked, as the wheels in your head spun, the decision dawning upon you, handed over from the ancient tragedies, rival even to the gloomy romances of Shakespeare.

Chuuya shifted towards the other man, looking into his cold, distant eyes. “No,” he said honestly, his jaw set. “I don’t regret it because now I know she’ll never love me. She’s all yours Dazai. Always has been. Always will be. Does that satisfy you?”

There wasn’t an ounce of fury in his expression when Dazai smiled back.

“You heard him,” Dazai said, lifting your limp arm by the elbow, pointing it like a skilled tutor. The gun was on Chuuya’s forehead, between his eyebrows, and your finger was on the trigger. Dazai’s whisper was like the Devil on your shoulder, and you were falling fast, your last shred of morality burnt from papery resolve. His hand supported your weakened muscles, guiding you along like you’d never before committed such an act. “You’re an assassin, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, narrowing your eyes before cocking the gun, mustering up the last bit of strength you had left. Chuuya couldn’t have looked more prepared for death, and you basked in Dazai’s prideful smile as he branded it into the crook of your neck.

“You’re certain?” you said to Chuuya, once more, hand no longer shaking despite your guilt.

The man, nothing more than a victim, nodded, and he had the audacity to smile, to look peaceful about his release from this life.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya. You shouldn’t have to bear the weight of my sin.” “It’s mine to carry, just as it is yours,” he scoffed, eyes hard with resolve. “Of all the things that would land me in Hell, I hardly believe this is the worst.”

You nodded, regrettably, and took a steely breath, erasing the heat the stung behind your eyes.

Then, you pulled the trigger. You waited for Chuuya’s brains to stain your floors, for the remnants of his skull to shatter all across the wall behind him. For the life to slowly drain from his stunningly bright eyes, leaving you with nothing but a corpse that would rot away wherever Dazai chose to toss his body.

Though, none of those things happened, and you stared at each other with fierce incredulity, knowing that you’d unwillingly become puppets in Dazai’s dramatic play, a show put on for no one’s entertainment but his own.

You’d been completely senseless, an idiot, really. The gun had felt lighter than usual, and you’d ignored it, even when you should’ve known it housed no bullets.

“Dazai?” you said in a low voice, dangerously, twisting to look at him from over your shoulder. An anger you’d never felt before had bubbled up inside of you, your heart thundering with a fierceness you hadn’t realized was a part of you. “There’s no bullets.”

“Obviously,” he scoffed, taking the gun away like it was but a toy, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. “I’d never kill the strongest ability-user in the Mafia. You both should know me better by now.”

You scowled, the ugly expression marring your face, and Dazai frowned, leaning forward to appease you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You played me for a fool. Was all of this an act?” you cried, wondering if maybe Dazai had been lying this entire time. Maybe all those sweet words he said had never been true, and you had fallen for them anyway, like the mindless pawn you were.

“Which part?” Dazai asked, but you could tell that he knew what answer you sought, what lies you wanted to unveil.

“You know which part,” you said, moving away from him, not sure what emotion to grant control. You felt an intense amount of fury, misery, and pity for yourself, who’d never asked Dazai for anything but to be on your side, and he still couldn’t give you that. “Fuck you, Dazai.”

Your lip quivered, but if you’d begun to cry, shame would swallow you up and drown you in the dark abyss of misery. You would have no other choice but to throw yourself out the window, where everyone in the Port Mafia could bear witness to all the ways that Dazai had ruined you.

“Boss—”

Chuuya’s sentence was cut off sharply.

You’d tried to climb out of the bed, but Dazai had grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could escape from him once and for all. Though he spoke to Chuuya, his eyes were hard on you, never leaving the set he stared into as you swallowed over and over, trying to think of anything but the sick feeling in your chest.

“You can leave now, Chuuya. Consider this your lucky day.” His voice was icy, threatening, and though Chuuya lingered a moment before climbing to his feet, he spared you nothing but a small glance in return.

You inhaled, then exhaled, trying to stop the simmering of blood within your veins, feeling the heavy weight of his hand on your wrist. As you sat there in silence, waiting for him to be the one to break it, you started to wonder how much of this was really Dazai’s fault, and how much you were the one to blame.

“It was a test.” Dazai tried to bring your attention back to him, letting only a fragment of emotion drain into his voice, though it was enough to slowly, slowly pique your fascination once more. “That was all.”

You wet your lips, though your tongue was just as papery. “So none of it was real.”

“What do you mean?” Dazai came to sit in front of you, his skin pale in the dark lighting, and you could see the cracks in his facade, and maybe this splinter in your failing relationship would slowly begin to heal itself. “Everything I said was very much real.”

His soft fingertips traveled up your arm, curling around your shoulder, across your collarbone, before settling in that delicate space between your jaw and your ear. There was a starry look in his eyes, the twin pair that had been exposed.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” you said, scrunching your face in remorse, wanting to slither away from him, even as he drew you closer, close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore, the liquor that he favored when you were away. His hair had been freshly washed, and the smell of shampoo still lingered, even under the thin layer of sweat.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” Dazai countered, the hurt not veiled in the slightest this time, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. Heat flooded to your cheeks, and you were looking away, wondering why he was pulling you close to his chest when he should be hating you with the passion of a thousand fiends. “How could I trust you after that?”

You parted your lips to speak, but your jaw was locked, and the inside of your mouth tasted like cotton.

“I’m not a good man,” Dazai said, kissing the shell of your ear, your temple, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to his bicep. “You’ve always known this. Yet, for as often as you talk about me with disgust dripping from your words, I’ve never sought to bring you pain.” He breathed in deeply, and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how much longer it’d be before you wept. “You’ve caused me pain.”

You tried to cry out, to tell him that you never thought it would hurt him, but he’d seen the very same in you, hadn’t he? You’d never given him any indication that the coldness in his words was bothering you, that the blurred lines of your relationship were getting confusing and hurtful, and he had done the same.

“We’re not good for each other, Osamu,” you whispered quietly, your lip quivering. The weight of your voice shattered against your vocal cords.

He let out a breathy laugh, smiling against your forehead. “On the contrary, I think we’re the perfect fit.”

For what reason he believed that, you weren’t sure.

You clenched your jaw tight, but it didn’t stop the feeling of tears from overwhelming you, hot droplets that spilled heavy from your eyes, running off your chin to Dazai’s chest. Your hands shook, clenched around his arms so tightly you were sure you were breaking the skin.

Dazai pulled away, monitoring your face with concern. You hated the way he looked at you with such pity when he was the reason for such pain. Yet, you couldn’t help but curl into him, warm, never wanting to escape from his reverence. “Why are you crying, my sweet angel?”

Nausea soured your mouth, and the regret that tinged you, tainted you, was vastly overwhelming. It was horrible in a way that you’d never felt.

It struck you, then, that you’d been blind to Dazai’s every affection, too ignorant to notice the ways that they had shifted as his life did. He no longer held your hand over the table during meetings, but the chair beside his was just as grandiose, and he greeted you with something of a smile when you walked into each room. He no longer accompanied you on assignments, but you were always taken care of, in a hotel most people couldn’t afford with a partner that could singlehandedly take out a hundred men. He no longer picked you flowers from a wild field as he’d done as a boy, but the vase on the table always held a beautiful bouquet of deep, red roses, without a single wilting flower.

Chuuya, all this time, all these years had been right. There was no use in loving Dazai if you couldn’t stand him in his darkest hour, the bitter ugly side of him that no one wanted to see.

You’d never thought about it, really, but you’d changed just as he had. Everyone in the Mafia had blood on their hands, was ruined in more ways than one, and you were no exception. If loving Dazai meant loving those parts of him, then loving you meant just the same.

The tears fell harder, and Dazai seemed panicked, stricken, always so oblivious when it came to the affairs of your heart, and sometimes he tried, but you couldn’t hate him if he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you said pitifully, knowing from the spoiled heart in your very chest had ruined everything. “I’m sorry.” You said it again and again until Dazai was shushing you, running a large, cool palm down your back, the only way he knew to soothe you.

“I wish I’d never done it. I wish I’d just spoken to you, asked you, anything—” you wiped your face, heavy breaths stuttering before Dazai took your hands away, and erased the tears for you. “I just thought you hated me. It was the only thing that made sense.”

Dazai smiled sadly, because no one had taught him to love. How was he to know that he’d been doing it wrong all this time. “I wish I’d seen it before. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder with a weariness that he’d been born with. “I’m sorry.”

A tingling sensation began under your skin, and you were warm all over, realizing just how much that apology had meant to you. For some reason, it felt like coming home.

The strong grip that nostalgia had on you gradually began to melt away.

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makochi-furin · 3 months ago

Text

WHEN YOUR SON TELLS YOU TO SHUT UP

A/N: I honestly just piss myself laughing at these TikTok’s, and had to write it, lmao. I’m a sucker for characters I like as parents, so I thought it’d be fun. Also, Toji’s is a little crack-y, but you can’t honestly tell me he wouldn’t have the most feral children in the world

WARNING(s): n/a

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

—Chuuya is a great dad. He's busy often (as his work calls for being away most of the time), so when he's home he prefers to be the easy parent. He doesn't want to spend a lot of time at work, just to come home and have to discipline his kid, who he already doesn't get to see as much as he wished he did

—He is not the kind of dad where, when your kid pisses you off, you say, "I'm calling your daddy." He prefers for everything to be peaceful and for him to not be at odds with his kid

—Your son's name is Keisuke, and he's about ten years old. You both have done a really good job raising him, and he's very respectful and well-mannered. He isn't spoiled, despite having rich parents, and he's a kind boy. He takes mostly after you, but he's Chuuya's spitting image💀 The gall to look just like his dad when it was you who baked the mf for nine months, but oh well

—Since Keisuke had never really been disciplined by Chuuya, he came to you one day with a proposition: a prank on his dad. You weren't really sure at first tbh when he told you about the 'telling mom to shut up in front of dad' thing. Like, sure, Chuuya had never been the strict parent, or anything, but he was BIG on respect. It didn't matter if it was towards himself, you, or even Keisuke. He doesn't let it slide, so you weren't sure how he'd react, because Keisuke was rarely disrespectful, and he especially wasn't when Chuuya was around

—Still, Kei thought it would be funny, and you were curious, yourself, so you agreed

—It was the perfect day for it, because Chuuya had asked for two weeks off (and, of course, got approved). As such, he was home all day with the two of you, and you got more excited for the prank (though you wouldn't admit it).

When the day came, Keisuke had his little phone hidden somewhere up on the bookcase in the living room of y'all's penthouse. He had been giggly and excited all day, which you loved to see, and Chuuya still had no idea.

He was sitting on the couch, elbow propped on the arm and cheek pressed to his fist as he scrolled through his phone. It was a slow day, as no chores really needed to be completed and Kei wasn't at school, so everyone had spent most of the morning chilling and doing their own thing.

Kei walked into the living room, then, and shot you a grin when he met your eyes. His were so pretty, just like his dad's, but they were mischievous now.

You knew what he was trying to signal, and then nodded. At the moment, you were leaning against the island, flipping through a magazine, and he walked over to the loveseat across from the couch and sat down, playing on his phone.

You could barely maintain your little grin as you called, "Hey, Kei-chan, will you come wash these dishes for me, baby? I need to do the laundry."

"Not right now, mom," he said back, not even looking up from his screen.

Chuuya didn't even act like he heard, still focused on his own phone.

"Please, Kei? I could really use some help," you said back, shooting your boy a wink. The way his eyes sparkled was so cute. You made sure your tone sounded serious, though.

"Really, mom, can you just, like, give me a minute?" he replied, annoyance lacing his voice. Just in case Chuuya was looking (he still wasn't), he even rolled his eyes.

"Kei, please, I don't ask you for much—"

"God, mom, would you just shut up?" he said, rolling his eyes again and shaking his head, muttering under his breath about how annoying you were.

Chuuya didn't react for a minute, and then his head shot up, eyes slightly widened like he was in disbelief.

Both you and Kei held your breath.

"Excuse you?" Chuuya said roughly, voice slightly raised. He put his phone down beside him, and then stood up. "What did you just say?"

Kei gulped, and you wondered whether it was time to admit to the prank, but he kept it going. "S-She's being annoying, dad."

Chuuya glared at him like you'd never seen before. In the blink of an eye, he had snatched Kei's phone out of his hand, pulled him up out of his chair, and pushed him towards the kitchen. "You're gonna apologize to your mother, you little asshole, and then you're gonna go do the fucking dishes and the laundry. If you were any older, I'd kick your little disrespectful ass for that!"

Kei was frozen in shock, obviously. His dad had never raised his voice at him, let alone cussed at him. He'd gone pale, and it honestly tugged at your heart to see him like that.

"It was a prank, baby," you said quickly, walking forward and wrapping your arms around Kei's shoulders. "Just a prank." You pointed towards the phone propped up on the bookcase.

Chuuya blinked, all of the anger leaving his body in a second. He didn't even follow your finger to the phone.

Kei started to grin, then, and you couldn't help but giggle a little, too.

Running a hand down his face, Chuuya shook his head. "Both of you are pains in my ass," he muttered.

—You and Kei still rewatch the video sometimes, laughing over how heated he'd gotten. Chuuya is honestly kind of embarrassed about it, but he pretends he isn't. If you ever tease him, he just reminds you that he has to protect your honor, lmao

—You catch red starting to creep up his neck whenever it's brought up, though

GOJO SATORU

—Gojo's little mini-me is fourteen, and he is a PAIN. He's just like his dad. Cocky? Check. Annoying? Check. Playful? Check. He is the most mischievous, little asshole on the planet, and he makes it everyone's problem

—His name is Shinso, and he's the apple of his father's eye. When he was little, Gojo doted on him SO much. Your kid was so spoiled, and even if you tried to stop it, Gojo would just sneak him stuff. It was SO irritating, but Shin eventually grew out of being spoiled, thankfully

—Shinso is an annoying, little prick to most people, but he's the best son. Not even gonna lie. He's very playful with you (yall are real jokesters), but he doesn't confuse you for a bestie: you're his mom, and he respects you endlessly for putting up with both himself and Gojo. Now, since he became a teenager, Gojo really is more like a bestie. They get on so well. And, like Chuuya, Gojo has never been a disciplinarian

—Shinso calls him 'dad' and all that, and trusts him in that way you can only really trust your dad (all my people out there with good dads know what I'm talking about), but he's still more like a bestie. Sometimes, it feels like you're parenting two children. Sorry bout it

—The two play pranks on you a lot, so you were honestly surprised when Shinso came to you with the idea to prank Gojo. You thought it wouldn't really turn out very funny, tbh. You figured maybe Gojo would tell him to stfu if he told you to shut up, but you couldn't imagine your husband (the laid back parent) really getting very angry

—Still, you agreed because Shin seemed excited about it

—You were in the kitchen cooking dinner for all of you, while Satoru and Shin were playing cards at the dinner table. Shin and you had already come up with your plan, so now it was time to put it into action.

Honestly, you rolled your eyes just thinking about it as you stirred up the sauce on the stove. "Hey, Shin, will you go put the laundry in the dryer, please."

"I'm busy, mom," he replied bluntly, lying down his card.

Gojo's eyebrows raised briefly, but he still grinned as he lied down his own card, effectively winning this hand. He cackled as he pulled all of the poker chips towards him. "Better luck next time, Shin-chan."

"Please, Shin? I can't do two things at once," you said, looking over your shoulder curiously at them, seeing how Satoru would react.

"Not right now, mom. God," he muttered, shaking his head and widening his eyes like you were being really annoying. "Just give me a minute."

This time, Gojo's eyebrows stayed raised. He shot Shin a look of warning, but said nothing, continuing to lie down his cards.

You were surprised even at that, to be honest, and were sure his thoughts were something along the lines of 'please, shut up, so I don't have to step in.'

"Shin, please," you said again, this time sighing and making sure to sound exhausted. "It won't take long, and then you can go right back to playing cards."

"Mom, shut up," he groaned, making a show out of how aggravated he was. "Give me a damn minute."

You raised your eyebrows, impressed by how much of a petulant brat he sounded like. He was playing his role well. Now, the two of you stared at Satoru, waiting for his reaction.

He was chuckling softly, cards forgotten as he tilted his head at Shin. "Oh, are you bad now?" he asked, standing from the table. He kept his hands flat on it, tall figure leaning over it and staring down at his son, who watched him, speechless. "No, don't be quiet now. I thought you were bad? Say it again."

You crossed your arms over your chest, a little amused, and maybe even flattered. Shin had never seen his father like this, but you had, and you probably should've just said it was a prank right then and there. You'd forgotten that Shin didn't know his dad as well as he thought he did, though.

"I told her to shut up. She needs to stop being annoying."

Your eyes flew open as Satoru took off his shades and set them down on the table, smiling at Shin as he stared down at him with those bright, bright blue eyes.

"You think you're grown now?" Satoru asked, appearing at Shin's side. He lifted him from the chair by the collar of his shirt, and pushed him towards the front door. "If you're so grown, you can go ahead and find your own place, yeah? If you're adult enough to disrespect your mother, surely you're adult enough to get a job."

You were frozen, in disbelief.

Shin looked just as frozen, staring up at Satoru with impossibly widened eyes. Never before had he experienced this side of his father, and Satoru wasn't being nearly as intimidating as you knew he could be.

"Dad, I—"

"You can either apologize and go help your mother, or you can take your disrespect and your attitude and get out of my house," Satoru interrupted in a pleasant voice that promised trouble if Shin didn't choose option number one.

You could see your son wasn't sure what to do, so you, of course, stepped in. "It was a prank, Satoru. We planned it. He didn't mean it."

—When I say that he went from intimidating and strong to literally falling on his face and blushing all over his body, I mean it. He is SO embarrassed, and you and your boy never let him forget it

—Later, he pranks you both back to get revenge, and makes you return his black card to him for a week (you don't, of course, and he pouts about it). He also tries to take Shin's phone for a week (you just buy him another one with Gojo's black card, and he pouts about it)

—Shin posts the video on TikTok, captioning it "telling your mom to shut up when your dad is the hOnOrEd OnE😤😤"

—It immediately goes viral, and everyone makes fun of Gojo (Inumaki, Yuuta, and Maki make a parody of it, and it also goes viral)

FUSHIGURO TOJI

—When you met Toji years ago, you quickly adapted to being the step-mother of Megumi and Tsumiki, and then later you ended up having a child with him to go along with your bonus babies. The two of you named him Haruo

—Toji is the kind of dad who walks into his kids doing some stupid shit, mutters, "you fucking weirdos," and then immediately walks out. He don't give a fuck as long as no one is hurt, honestly (like, actually hurt. When Haru came to him crying about a splinter, this man literally rolled his eyes and went, "I'm an assassin."). He's such a dick to his kids, but not in a mean way, if that makes sense

—Anyway, all these little mfs are tough, because Fushiguro fucking Toji is their dad, and they had to learn real quick to dish his shit back to him💀 So, honestly, they're all pretty disrespectful to each other

—"Megumi, bring me a beer."

—"Eat shit and die."

—"You're a little, fucking loser, and your only friend is your mother."

—They're just like that. It's their dynamic. They all started cussing by five, and you tried to stop it, but it's just impossible. They're too much like him, so you eventually just taught them that it's okay to be disrespectful to daddy, but not anyone else🫡

—They are NOT disrespectful to you. You don't have that dynamic with them, but you're also able to separate real disrespect when it comes to them, rather than just the smart assing that they're too used to using, but really don't mean anything by

—Haruo is your friendliest kid, honestly. He's friendly to you and to Toji, so he tends to be the one that Toji is genuinely nice to. Like, don't get me wrong, they still have their back and forths, but Haruo doesn't mutter, "What a shame," when Toji gets home like Tsumiki does, so...

—That's why you were so surprised when Haruo came to you one day—he was about fifteen—and suggested to pull a prank on Toji. When he told you what it would entail, you were a little hesitant because they'd never really been disrespectful towards you, and you weren't sure how Toji would react. Haru convinced you, though, and you ended up agreeing

The kids were all sitting on the couch, scrolling through their phones like IPad kids. Haruo was pretending to be really engrossed in the mobile game he was playing, as the two of you had planned for the prank to happen today.

You were folding the laundry at the counter (with three kids and Toji, there was a lot of it), while Toji had just gotten back from his 'job,' and was sitting on a barstool opposite you. He was drinking coffee, a neutral expression on his face as he watched you go about your chore.

"Hey, Haru-chan, will you go grab my phone for me? It's in my room," you said, folding one of Toji's shirts. You were having trouble not cracking a grin already.

Haruo didn't reply, so Megumi flicked the back of his head. "Hey, mom's talking to you."

"Huh? What do you want?" he asked, annoyed, without taking his eyes from his game.

Tsumiki's eyes slid up from her phone screen to look at him, eyebrow raised.

"I asked if you'd go get my phone for me," you replied, eyeing Toji, who was staring at the wall.

"Make dad do it," Haru muttered.

Toji rolled his eyes at the words.

"He just got back from work, honey. Please, just go get it."

"Mom, I'm busy." Haru huffed, like you were asking him to move a mountain.

At this point, even the kids were watching Haru through narrowed eyes, slightly confused. He never acted like this—none of them did towards you.

It looked like Tsumiki was gearing up to say something, so you quickly said, "Fushiguro Haruo, go grab my phone. Please."

"God, mom, will you shut up for one damn second?" He snapped, looking up from his phone to shoot you a glare.

Toji did a double take, blinking. Then, he calmly stood up and started walking over to Haru, all the while Megumi and Tsumiki watched with wide eyes, sharing glances.

You watched carefully, too.

Toji grabbed a pillow off the couch, not saying a word, and then threw it right at Haru's head at a brutal pace.

"Toji—!" you started, but he was already wound up.

Haru yelped as the pillow hit him hard, and then stared up at his father with wide eyes.

Tsumiki had taken off her sandal and chucked it at Haru's head, meanwhile Megumi had stood up, too.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you little shit?" Toji asked, glaring down at him. "You think you can talk that way to your fucking mom? I'll kick you out of this goddamn house." He smacked Haru on the head, which had Haru raising his arms up. "Don't you ever say that shit to her again!"

"It's a prank! It's a prank, baby," you yelled, running over to protect your kid from your psycho family. "He didn't mean it!"

Haru was looking at Toji and his siblings with wide eyes, as everyone froze where they were. Then, a grin crept onto his lips, because he was a little psycho, too. "Got you, dad."

Toji smacked him upside the head, which had Haru howling with laughter. "I swear to god, I hate every one of you crotch-goblin motherfuckers. All of you were mistakes."

"Fuck you, too, dad," Tsumiki said quickly.

"Go kill yourself, asshole," Megumi added.

"Love you, too, dad," Haru said with a grin, trying and failing to hold back laughter.

Meanwhile, you ran a hand down your face, tired of your weird ass kids and their weird ass dad.

#chuuya x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #chuuya x you #gojo x you #toji x you #nakahara chūya #chuuya nakahara #gojo satoru #satorugojo #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #makochi’s scenario

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 4 months ago

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REUNION SEX

SUMMARY: Seokjin has been now out from his military service, but he has buried himself with work and you miss him, miss sex.

PAIRINGS: Husband Jin x wife reader.

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

SMUT WARNINGS: Titty sucking over clothes, oral (m,f), fingering, riding, emotional sex at the end lmao, reader is called names( jagi, slut, whore), cum eating.

A/n: yeas, I'm back Hehe lol I hope you like this one I'll get better next time but I hope you like this.

It's been two days since Seokjin has been discharged from his military service, Minjun your son hasn't been happier when he finally knew his dad wouldn't go back, your husband used to come back in between for a couple of days and leave again.

Minjun was about six months old when Jin knew he had to leave and he was not happy to leave his son, you and the army but soon accepting he went ahead and served the country perfectly, occasionally posting on Instagram and Weverse and telling army's he's doing great and is eager to come back and perform.

It's almost 11 pm when Minjun gets ready for his bedtime after playing with his dad for a long time. Jin being the best dad and husband takes over the night duties and puts his son to sleep so till then you could get all ready for bed as well.

About your sex life it's been a while since you've been intimate with him so it is dry and now seeing him all bulked up has your hormones raging up, his shoulders are now lean not that they were in perfect shape but it's just something is stirring up in your mind, his abs are more Prominent and can be even seen over his shirt if he straightened up.

You have nasty thoughts about your husband in the shower while Seokjin also gets ready for bed, a white shirt with grey sweatpants hangs low on his slim waist and when you come out you gasp a bit to see him look this hot.

You both soon get on the bed cuddling each other while you lay your head on his hard chest and your legs all over him, you ignore the feeling of his length on your inner thighs and hum on the things he's saying, his long fingers are tangled on your hair, and he fiddles with them, and you sigh at this feeling.

"Jagi...?" Your husband calls you out of your thoughts and you look out for him and smile and ask him what's wrong "Are you sleepy? should I stop talking?" Seokjin hesitates, thinking he is keeping you up and he knows you are tired from all day keeping up with Minjun taking care of him and also looking after him.

"No Jin don't worry it's all right it's just something going in my head for a while, but it's nothing I know you must be tired we can sleep," you tell him in a low voice and motioning to detach from him, but you get pulled back and now he hovers above you and gasp.

"Tell me baby, what's wrong?" Jin said now completely serious, and you sighed and looked everywhere but him, his arms had now trapped you and you raised your hands and held onto his biceps and rose a bit so could kiss his plum lips and once again you fell for this man all over again.

"Nothing Jin, it's just I miss you, I miss sex, but I don't want to pressure you into it I know you are still tired from the service and all the events you can rest" you tell him and caress his bicep with your thumb and feel him.

"Jagi you could've just told me about it, you know it right I would never turn you down, I'm sorry I haven't been giving you time love, but this pussy for sure misses me, right baby? Jin teases and you nod while giving him a big smile at his teasing.

Jin slowly bends down so he can kiss your lips and you make space for him in between your legs and his now hard length is pressed against your core. The kisses shared are passionate between you and him and you bite out a moan when you feel his hands sneaking up to your clothed breast.

Your nipples harden when Seokjin's fingers circle them and you twitch in his arms because of sensitivity, the short satin gown does a poor job of hiding the print of your nipples and Seokjin bends down just so he comes face to face and licks and sucks you over the fabric, the print is more visible as it is now wet.

"Seokjin please, need more" You gasp at his teasing while he chuckles and stops his antics and is now welcomed by the red lace underwear you decided to wear just in case something would happen, and you didn't want him to be greeted by the normal ones and mentally smile about it.

Your husband smiles at the sight of his favourite red panties coming into his vision and wasting no time he pushes them to the side and rubs the ball of your clit "Try to stay calm y/n I know it's been a while" he says observing your sensitivity and timidness when you try to close your legs.

Nodding at him he gets right back to your pussy occasionally spitting, licking, sucking and slurping your juices and you try your best to stay calm and not make much Noice but you end up failing miserably when his long slender finger enters you "Such a tight fit Jagi, I don't think you can take my dick....already stressing over my finger" just like that his teasing never stops which throws you over the edge and you come silently.

"Such a slut Jagi" he tsks and removes his fingers from your heat and sucks them and hums "So sweet" You stay there breathless for a second until he undresses, and you remove your gown and panties, your eyes bore down at his luscious red tip oozing out some precum and you swear you feel your mouth water.

So, you take matters into your own hands, just when Jin hovers above you, holding on to his bicep you shift him so now you are the one above him and Jin chuckles and gets ready for what is coming for him.

Kissing his lips you go down his neck and paint a few purple hues and your fingers tease his length which is now in between you and your husband, he tries to refrain from moaning and only settles with hums, Seokjin guides you where he needs you the most, yes, his beautiful girthy, thick length and veins prominent and those plum balls, there's a patch of hair at the base but you don't mind and think it makes him 10x hotter than he already is.

You start off by laying kittenish kisses and licks on his length and then going to suck his tip, you hum when the taste of his precum hits your tongue, and you make a mess by spitting on him again, your husband grabs on your hair and tries to signal you that he needs more and wanted to hear you gag around it.

"The best baby, yeah just like that," Seokjin says as his hands now fall on the bed, and you continue to gag over him "So big baby, can feel it in my throat," you tell him to boast his ego feeling few tears falling from your eyes and Seokjin moans at the compliment.

"Yeah, baby just like that Jagi.... right there, I'm going to cum" your husband groans feeling his orgasm hit and then that's when you decide to be cruel and get your mouth off him, "Jagi I'm not even kidding I was so fucking close," Jin says disappointed and you hover over him and sit on his abs and bring your finger on his lips "Be quiet baby, let me do it my way tonight yeah?" you tell him in most sluty way.

Smirking he only nods and lets you do whatever you want, and you rise up just a bit so now that his tip kisses your hole and you gasp and try to take him fully, once you adjust you shriek out because of the stretch and Seokjin groans at the tightness it feels like his dick has been suffocated and you slowly start to bounce, your own hands coming up to play with your tits while his hands come up on your waist and you scream out real loud because of his tip hitting your sweet spot "Yeah baby faster" Jin gasps feeling himself come closer to his release.

"Argh fuck baby right there feels so good, dick so good" You talk to him and chase your high that's when Seokjin pulls you down to his chiselled chest and guides your hips, you feel your eyes water at his move and your right hands comes up to his face to grab and you silently say you miss him and missed this feeling, and your tears finally run down your cheek and you both come at the same time, his cum painting your walls.

"Y/n? Baby, are you okay? I missed you too Jagi like a lot" Jin says his hands now caressing your back "Yeah just missed you a lot and now that you are here it feels so much better" you tell him, and he smiles like a fool and kisses your forehead, after spending a while with his length still inside, you sigh and feel good until it was time for you to get up and clean as you both are sticky from the sex and you both need a bath.

While Seokjin gets up first to prepare a bath for both of you, feeling the cum drip from your pussy, with a wild move you try to collect and suck it off your fingers and give him a wink while you are at it, and he smirks collectively and tsks "so messy baby" and giving him an offended look you tell him it is better than staining the bedsheets.

"Sure, Jagi make excuses, such a whore for it"......

TAGLIST:

@jungk97kwife @kimmingyuswifee @virgodolls @grudge-core

#bts #seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin oneshot #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fic #seokjin scenarios #seokjin imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin smut

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maybanksbabe · 1 year ago

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𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋 | 𝐑. 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you'd assumed for the last 6 months that he'd lived nextdoor that your neighbour was just a very popular man with no end of female admirers spending the night at his place. Until a late night mark of desperation leads you to finding a very familiar face on your favoured XXX site...

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): pornstar!Rafe Cameron, language, mentions of and descriptions of sex and sexual content, *gasp* and they were neighbours!, Descriptions of masturbation (m + f), watching porn, oral (f) there's a lot going on lmao, if I missed anything lmk!

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: sex; cheat codes - church; chase atlantic - go fuck yourself; two feet

𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 - 𝙸 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺

It started on a weekend, about three weeks after Rafe Cameron had moved in next door in your apartment complex. The walls were just torturously thin enough that any time he had a... Lady friend over, you could hear every obnoxious, high-pitched moan he could get out of her. Whoever she was every other night. Sometimes in the morning, you'd see various sorry states leaving his apartment; smudged makeup, shoes in hands and a slight wobble in their step.

He seemed nice enough when you bumped into each other at the mail collection or laundry room. A stunning smile and a God-given body. With it being late July he found any excuse to walk around shirtless. Not that you really minded. There was no indication of what he did for work; you'd never seen him in any uniform or office attire and there was nothing else that pointed to any kind of obvious profession, keeping you guessing.

Then, on the hottest summer night so far, you found yourself unable to sleep, tossing and turning beneath tangled sheets that did nothing but make you more uncomfortable. And then you noticed the faint knocking next door and distinctly female moans.

Did he ever fucking stop?!

You could hear a backing of male moans too, but nothing more than faint grunts and moans that were almost drowned out by whichever woman he was pressing into the mattress. And yet, instead of being faced with disgust, there was a spark of something else. Jealousy? Perhaps. It made your stomach twist and between your thighs began to ache.

Instead of being vindictive and giving the wall above your head a few sharp pounds with your fist, you decided to be courteous. After all, you have no other reason not to get along with him. Disgruntled, you kicked your sheets off and grabbed your keys before moving out of your apartment to the corridor, taking five steps to the right and knocking on Rafe's door.

The moaning stopped and seconds later the door opened, revealing, much to your bewilderment, Rafe in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His chest, neck, cheeks and ears were flush with a rosy burnish and a delicate gold chain rested against his collarbones.

"Hi -"

"Is this about the noise?" He was slightly breathless as he tried to fill the space between the half-open door and the door frame.

"Yeah, sorry I'm just a really light sleeper and I've got a busy day tomorrow -"

"Don't worry about it, we're almost wrapped up here. Just give us ten more minutes and I promise you won't hear from us again tonight," he replied with a coy smile. Something about his demeanour made you melt a little inside. His eyes are heavy as they travel up and down your body, taking in your choice of sleepwear and your sleep-deprived state.

"Tom and Jerry, huh?" At a glance, you saw that he was referring to your pyjamas. Heat crawled up your neck and cheeks.

"Don't be an ass. Just - please keep the noise down, yeah?" He held a hand up in surrender, a boyish grin on his lips.

"Alright, alright. Promise. Enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart."

Not as much as you will, it seems.

At that, you retreated to the stuffy air of your apartment, soon after the lurid sounds continued, accompanied by the percussion of the headboard against the wall. But true to his word, ten minutes later it fell silent and the distant sound of a door shutting set your mind at ease.

A week later, if that, a barrage of more late nights listening to Rafe's conquests drew you to a final, desperate measure. Opening an incognito window on your phone's browser you went straight to your favourite porn site. If he could have fun at all hours, so help you God you could too. The noise from next door made you wonder what they were doing; doggy, reverse cowgirl, some kind of bondage perhaps? He certainly seemed like the type.

Surfing the categories for a few minutes gave you a spark of inspiration to go looking for a specific type of video. And the first account to come up in the results had you intrigued from the jump. You selected the most recent video, put your headphones in and pushed your free hand into your sleep shorts. Though as your fingers began to dip and delve between your folds and around your clit, a familiar voice in your ear made you stop.

"- fuck yeah, so fuckin' tight -" Wide-eyed you turned your attention to your phone screen. You knew that voice. You'd spoken to that voice in the laundry room on multiple occasions. And as your eyes adjusted to the brightness of your screen in the dark you saw it. That chain. Those abs. That jawline.

"Oh, my god..." Solo fun forgot about, you sat up and began scouring the page. There were dozens of videos. Some by himself, some with co-stars (both female and male), and others with more than one co-star. Regardless of the content of the videos you selected and skipped through, he looked good. No, he looked hot.

The video you were currently on, you couldn't bare to skip through or speed up, too transfixed on what Rafe was doing. Lay on a pristinely made bed, beneath a beautiful brunette woman who was currently sat on his face. Then it all made sense. The constant noise, the late nights and the never-ending line of people leaving his apartment. And why you could never figure out what he did for a living.

Your neighbour was a pornstar.

Your insanely hot, surprisingly nice neighbour was a very popular pornstar based on the subscriber count under his profile name.

But now felt compelled to watch more. To see more and get to know him. It was wrong but you didn't have many other options given how he normally reduced to you a blushing mess anyway. So up you stayed for another few hours, scrolling through the countless videos that caught your interest.

Your favourite one so far had been a video from a month or two ago, Rafe was on the sofa, the camera set up on the coffee table and his legs spread just wide enough in the grey sweats that you could see most of him before he'd even stripped down. He used a vibrating cockring to get himself off. The string of delightfully sinful noises came from him as he fucked his hand and used the ring on the most intense pattern had you clenching your thighs and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Another week rolled on and you delved deeper into Rafe's content, using it selfishly to get off to your burning needs when every morning you'd exchange a polite smile and greeting when you both happened to be collecting your mail at the same time. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose. Or he was. You hadn't been particularly reserved in your late-night self-indulgence and there's more than a chance that he's heard you on more than one occasion.

How you found yourself standing in front of his door on a Thursday evening you're not sure, but you had to say something. It had been quiet for a couple of days next door. So you knocked and waited patiently. Moments later the door swung open. Rafe greeted you with his signature coy smirk, a bowl of cereal balanced in one ring-clad hand, and the other resting on the door.

"Hey, what brings you here?"

"I - I need to talk to you..." you forced out whilst wringing your fingers together.

"Oh? Sure, come in." Rafe stepped aside and propped the door open with his foot to let you in. You found it incredibly difficult not to ogle him as you stepped around him, sweatpants slung low on his hips and a shirt nowhere to be seen. He'd definitely been soaking up the Summer sun too, now more tan than when he first moved in and there was a faint spray of freckles across his back and shoulders, obviously brought out by the extra sunshine.

"What's the problem?" He leaned up against the nearest counter as you both came to a stop in the kitchen.

"No... No problem. I don't think. Look, Rafe, you seem like a really nice guy -"

"Oh, God I don't like where this is going -"

"No! No, it's not bad but... I found you." Rafe set the now empty bowl into the sink and turned back to face you.

"Found me?"

"Don't make me say it," you pleaded, face already hot with embarrassment. That cocky demeanour started to take effect and with the way he looked, standing there half naked so casually had you struggling to find the words.

"Online. Okay? I happened upon your online profile and -" His laughter cut you off and the panic and embarrassment subsided momentarily.

"Don't be embarrassed, everyone watches porn," he stated with a shrug and stepped towards you, caging you in against the counter. It took all your willpower not to drop to your knees then and there.

"I just - just didn't want things to be awkward. Thought you might want to know... We're still just neighbours, okay?"

"Sure. Y'know I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out..." Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in. The scent of him was dizzying and you did the unthinkable. You kissed him. It transpired into a series of messy kisses, and obscene actions with tongues and teeth pressing and clashing.

A surprised gasp against Rafe's sinfully pink lips escaped you as he hoisted you onto the counter, large, hot hands on your waist, keeping you flush with him. Kissing Rafe was something you couldn't explain, it was a hungry, demanding exchange with languid tongues rendering you breathless.

"M' a big fan of your work," you confessed with a hot sigh against his parted lips, trying your hardest not to moan when he made contact with the column of your throat and his one hand made his way between your parted thighs.

"Yeah?" You made a noise of agreement but yelped when he tugged your soft cotton shorts down your legs, exposing your ass and the backs of your thighs to the cool surface beneath you.

"Don't - don't feel like you have to -" you panted, cut off by an unintentional moan as his fingers pressed against your underwear, adding a delicious kind of pressure against your aching clit. Your hand found his wrist, holding him there for a moment whilst his fingers teased you relentlessly.

"And what if I want to? Like I haven't spent the past couple of weeks listening to you play with yourself late at night when you think no one can hear you." His remark had you clenching around nothing,

"I -"

"You think I couldn't hear you? Watching my videos and moaning for me?" He kissed a line down your neck and bunched your t-shirt up so he could remove your panties, dropping them to one side. In your hazy state, you couldn't stop him from kneeling down in front of your bare cunt before he leaned in, making contact with an open mouth against your now-exposed clit.

"Fuck, Rafe -" you whimpered with a shaky breath as he used his mouth to get you off, suctioning around your clit with expert skill, his tongue adding just enough pressure and friction to have you dizzy already.

"Tell me all about it, sweets." You couldn't be sure if he was good at this because it was part of his job or if he was just that good, but in a matter of minutes, you were reduced to a whining, squirming mess on his kitchen counter, unable to form a coherent sentence. The pressure of a finger being added to your aching, wet cunt had you moaning even louder.

"Gonna cum for me? Hm? Wanna make a mess on my face?" All you could do in reply was moan. Unashamed and unhindered by the fact that any of the surrounding units might be able to hear you and that you were currently on your neighbour's kitchen counter being eaten out within an inch of your life by the aforementioned neighbour.

Practically grinding on his face, everything came to a dizzying peak. Eyes screwed shut, back arched off of the counter and your thighs trembling from their position over his shoulders, you came with a loud cry - a plea almost for the pleasure to last -

"That was hot," Rafe commented with a drawl as he eventually managed to free himself from between your previously tensed thighs. He made a point to stand up and offer the two fingers that had just been inside you. Some deep part of your subconscious didn't even hesitate to accept them in your mouth to clean them off.

"Good girl," he cooed with a wolfish grin.

-/-/-

@veescorneroftheworld @drewphyy @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @outerbankies

Just tagging a few who might be interested! Let me know if you want to be removed 🧡

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x f!reader #pornstar!au #pornstar!rafe #libra writes

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chokchokk · 1 year ago

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𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

“How do I feel like, Sannie?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar.

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

“You feel like you're mine."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

masterlist link | join my taglist

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime?

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out.

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other.

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.”

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.”

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build.

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think.

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?”

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.”

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses.

“Yes, good… v-very.”

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.”

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath.

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose.

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.”

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock.

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips.

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles.

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns.

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth.

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically, as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs.

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor.

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him.

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it.

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously.

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side.

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release.

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately.

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...”

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been.

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here

#cromernet #choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #chokkiwa #chokko

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death---dealer · 4 months ago

Text

Cross Contaminate. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Sixteen.

okay i lied so we got this chapter and then one more after.

Title: Cross Contaminate. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of Ape Mating, Human sex. The next chapter is where this is gonna go absolutely ballistic lmao.. ) Words: 9.2K+ Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: The last bit of remaining doubt is brought to light before you commence into the Mating Ceremony to be bonded to Noa. Nerves are fresh. READ THE SERIES HERE.

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It was remarkably fluid, your eyes staring holes of envy straight into two sets of hands, twenty fingers, that were communicating without many words, only a few grunts distributed when the infliction of the sign language wasn’t enough to convey proper and adequate feelings. Your fingers on the other hand… Glancing down at your scarring calves, you drifted the very tips of your finger pads against the pink nature of the healing skin and drew a deep breath in. Not as sharp as it was three months ago when it felt like literal knives of hot branded iron where being cased against your ribcage.

But, in the position you were in; feet splayed out in front of you on the grassy nature of the meadow now often used to play Monkey ball during the warming afternoons of the Spring Time when there was time to play outside of the erection of the new Village. Your upper body crouching in to get a better look at your own reminder of the hands of Death, breathing was difficult as you were squeezing your ribs against each other.

It felt good at times like this, in some sickeningly twisted manner. It reminded you that… Despite the care and affection you held towards the Eagle Clan, the culture and customs that were slowly becoming your own without remorse and with the utmost kindness… Noa’s features came into view as your perception of jealousy hazed into admiration for the stance of which he held himself. Confident… Radiant, almost in the way that the sun danced against his fur coat.

Honey-ladened around the very edges and a dark rich brown near the skin, he looked like he was ablaze to your vision and you wanted to touch him. Wanted to caress Noa to see if his fur had soaked up the warmth of the sun and if he’d be willing to share that with you as a lick of anticipation based shivers wracked down your spine. He must have known you were looking at him; the hackles against his shoulders rose ever so slightly at your gawk, lips parting when you were able to make contact with the gold-green eyes that had become a constant thought late at night.

His shoulder, your gaze swept it as Noa admired your expression. Content, the Ape thought to himself, more so now that you were allowed to move on your own two legs and often accompanied him outside of the healing hut you were in before.

Happy… since the moment that you held onto Noa’s forearms so desperately when you were first beckoned to stand, the Master of the Birds now still able to feel your fingers against the grain of his hide there as you were so afraid to fall as Soona chattered to him about the Eagle Enclosure. Noa knew he should listen; it was important but the fantasy ran wild and his thoughts were unable to tangle themselves away from you.

The wrapping of his long arm against your hips, the bone so soft to him as the Ape was recalled to hyperactive reminiscence. Tugging you against Noa’s broad chest, how you gasped for him as your feet staggered under your weight and how Noa felt the tips of his rounded ears prickle with an aggressive desire to hear more.

Another moment of secrecy that you wanted to hold onto and never let go as thoughts of the unknown made themselves ardently present as if they were not known in the words you and Noa had spoken before, in the actions of the past. Noa would… hold you again like this someday in a different… Context. He’d hold you, Soona’s words next to him becoming nothing more than a fevered motion, Noa would… always… Hold you…

Golden flecked and predominantly foliage eyes narrowed on you in a way that could only be described as acute possession. The way your hand pressed against your calves, the way you were looking at his own body in mirrored empathy. Both healed almost fully. It was hard at the distance you were enjoying the weather to actually see the indentation against his right shoulder cap, to see the missing splotch of fur from the wound that had taken its course against Noa’s tendons there, but you knew…

Your fingers flicked against the scar on your left calf. You knew it was there, you had kissed it with your eyes, your lips crying themselves into a pursed smile at the thought that someday you’d be able to lay your saliva against it and whisper how truly grateful you were that he incurred such a injury because of you. No… You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly running dry with agitated worry. Noa did it for you, not because of you.

An Echo and an Ape, heatedly marked in some ritual that you were forever going to share the bond of what caused the damage. A bond of more; your heart raced at that thought, the prospect that eradicated all your other senses that you were to be a Mated Pair and the imagination that ran wild with conversations of the past were all validated in a moment of confession.

The Chimp who always garnered your attention. Their leader in particular held the most affection and the last three moon cycles have felt like a dream from the moment that Noa touched you so passionately. Rising your left hand upwards, you placed it against your thigh.

The skin no longer yearned for just your touch, it felt rejected as you moved to swirl a figure eight against it. It begged and sang for Noa to bring his wrath down once more to the point of antagonistic desire of wanting him to catapult the deepest and darkest of bruises against the delicate flesh. But, for every vision of happiness you had, self-deprecation had to play his nasty hand right back at it to keep even you… The Human of choice that the Ape wanted more than anything, humbled and foregrounded. There was always the nagging sensation that you were just…

An Echo.

The reverberation of a word casted along the long narrow ways of the Ruins that were a melancholic call back of your own Humanity. How you hated it at times, letting the inhale you had taken in a minute ago release with a fiery exhale, the heated air feeling good against the brisk breeze that had decided to fall against the Village.

The way that the Male and Female Ape moved together, non-logistic as it felt at times when his hands were too close to yours, so natural as you watched her push onto his broad shoulder to get his attention as Noa had been staring at you in the open, the one that had healed remarkably quickly with a loud guff of approval over his intentions for the the next phase of the Eagle Enclosure.

Noa deserved better, your mind quipped at itself. He would always… Deserve better. Soona could give him what you lacked, what you were always going to lack and the idea was persistent in your mind as Noa began the courtship to garner your hand into something more. How quickly you were to accept it, how fast you wanted him to take you… Noa would always cause you to swallow and lap up whatever you could, just looking at his broad shoulders all the way down to the tapering of his thin waist… Everything was so inviting.

Canines bared themselves as he laughed at something that Soona said, the reflection of the sun so great against the sharpness that you wanted to reach out and touch them. Because they were yours to touch, right? Yours to… touch… Noa’s to dig into your body whenever he wants. The huffing of his chest drawing your attention. You wanted him to react to you that way. Carnal and primal intent, nothing more. Your jaw locked in on itself as you peered at Soona; a mixture of rageful jealousy cupped with self-hating ideas were falling quicker than your mind was able to rebut against. She’d be… better for him. A friend from the time they were born. Within a Sunset, they always told you with a smile. Anaya was there too; all three of them… Such good friends.

And their little Echo who was going to be the downfall of the great culture and customs that they had all grown with, all known and all encompassing.

A little Echo who was afraid of their own shadow at times and clasped too tightly to an Ape who was able to give them… Everything.

A twinge of saltiness hit the back of your irises as your eyelids fell shut. What… would Noa do if… You were unable to give him what he sought? Never explicitly stated, but it was implied with the urge to mate with you. The more animalistic tear that you both ignored at times when you discussed how soon you wanted to mate together, how soon was too soon? The Apes had a way of doing things, similar to Humans the first time that it was talked about in detail. Dating for you, courting for them.

Things were done a certain way to show interest though the interest was always there from the beginning. It made Noa feel comfortable, you realized. It opened him up to you in ways that were… New. Enlightening… The Eagle Clan master was sure of his choice, it was clear in the way he spoke to you, spoke to his fellow Apes… Parting your lips again, you wetted them before smearing your mouth together in deep thought and affirmation. He loved… you. You knew that. You loved him, and Noa knew that…

Two more months was the agreed timetable but what if in the next two months, Noa realized… To whatever is above, you cursed silently in your head as the tears of agitated anxiety hit more coarsely against the back of your eyes, now threatening to be released to tredge down your cheek. What if… Noa came to light that you were just… A Human?

Sure, you tilted your head and looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes in acute disgust at the fact that they seemed so weak compared to Soona’s who stood so grounded and hard against the Earth, her feet just as dexterous as her hands, sure you had heard stories from passing groups of Humans during your upbringing but they were used to fuel nightmares. Hybrids. Ape and Human hybrids. All terrible, all inflicted with irrational growth and permanent damage to their tiny bodies that they often didn't make it past the newborn stage, let alone to full term to actually sustain giving birth.

Giving… Birth… Was another aspect that would leave the Mother inebriated, tethering on Death itself again but that wasn’t the worry anymore. You’d die for Noa, you felt it was in the cards that you brought to the table and it was just a matter of time when it would happen. If you could give him what he wanted, then it would all be worthwhile.

A child. Not some sick science experiment that Humans had to just see what could possibly happen with a hybrid, but a baby… Made from love and adoration that was a rampant part of the relationship. Hard to see now, you were mean to yourself as you looked at Soona once more. You were weak. Would you even be able to carry a child for Noa when Soona herself was able to carry half her body weight with ease? You could barely pick up a thatch of wooden bricks that were used for the fireplace without straining yourself. She’d be better for Noa, you thought affectionately towards the Female Ape. She’d always… Be better…

‘Almost done.’

Startled, you were torn out of your decrypting nightmare and felt your shoulders jolt, the tiny hairs prickling against your body as Noa came to hunch beside you, his hands laying flat on their knuckles between the muscular thighs you wished your caress with both your own touch and your full body.

Noa… Could feel the shake in your heartbeat from the flatness of his feet against the ground, his gaze scrutinizing against the minute details of your expression. Glossingly, your eyes looked to the side as you drew a taut breath in, the way that your chest rose gave no satisfaction to the Ape as your breasts were not ample to move. You wished he spoke instead of using a sign, your gaze glancing back over at him as you caught the tail end of his stocky fingers moving.

“Are you---” That didn't sound like your voice and you hated it. How desperate it sounded, just two words drawing themselves into a whine of sorts as you stared widely into Noa’s eyes, his body rocking towards yours out of instinct once you locked pupils. “Sure that you don’t want to talk more with Soona? I-I can always go back to my hut for the night if you wanted to wor… work more with her.”

“Would rather spend my time with… My Echo.” A hand was touching your left calf and it took not one moment of reflex for you to raise it in a desperate plea for Noa to touch it more adoringly. Me, you shut your eyes and felt the fuzz of his fur dragging itself against your already sweat-prone skin, touch me…

The nickname you garnered from Noa was endearing, you loved to hear it at all times. But now, it felt almost like another knife was stinging into your gut and causing your organs to fall in on themselves as your brain was quick to rationalize it to just… Echo… Just… Human… You’d been through this time and time again with yourself. The want between you two.

The gravity that pulled your forms together, even more so as Noa brought himself into a seated position, the Earth whispering against his fur and coating it with blades of grass that were now just turning a lush green that reminded you of his gaze. You looked at him, mouth contorting into a frown of sorts that was trying to display itself as a smile. Noa looked at it with a squinted stare before drawing his attention back towards your eyes.

“I don’t understand why.” You admitted shamefully, not feeling the vibe of pessimism that was rising in your shoulders and against the base of your neck like a fiery undertaking had exploded from your stomach. “Soona and Anaya need you just as much as I do---” Noa sighed. You could hear it against your ears like a drum pounding but there was no doubt that it was merely blood rushing in as you suddenly felt a wash of anxious contempt. It was as if to say in a quiet and forlorn way that Noa was aware that this conversation would happen, the doubt would ultimately outride the pleasure. In his time of knowing you, there had never been seeped worry on your part. You always displayed the perfect confidence that he would mimic.

What… Was Noa meant to do now that it was shattering? That you were drawing away from him again? Something. Anything… He looked down at your half cusped calf and tightened his grip on it with affliction of tenderness. Affirmation, Noa hoped and brought his mouth together as his nostrils flared with contemplation. “Do not understand… Where is this coming from? Thought you were… Happy here.” You grunted softly in your chest which caught in your throat, coming out sounding more like a disgruntled whimper. “You know I’m h-happy here but…” You looked over his shoulder at Soona as she began chattering with Anaya about something. Most other situations, you’d have laughed at the interaction. How easy they were to communicate with one another, the mild annoyance that Anaya caused that Soona would just burden with a laugh. She enjoyed it just as much as he did, you knew as you looked at Noa’s shoulder. “I… Worry… A lot…” “Told you many times… Not t---” “Soona would be better for you.” “Do not want---” “I’m just a Human, Noa. What are we doing---” “We do not need to go through this!” Noa snapped at you, canines flashing for only a split second as his temper flared. Not often, but it did scratch at the innate part of your mind that the Ape was a force to be reckoned with at times and Noa was ardently protective of the things he held most dear. And now, your mouth falling shut slowly as to shut yourself up from digging into a hole you were unable to get out of, you stared at him and swallowed hard.

“We do not…” Hand leaving your calf, it rested lightly back onto the ground as Noa chose to stare at it instead. The pinkish nature was unnatural against your skin tone and it tugged at the part of his mind that begged into the submission of guilt. Always… guilt for causing you so great and extensive tears into the skin he loved but was never willing to admit it until recently.

“Why… is it so hard… To understand…” Noa raised his hand once more and you were accepting of any of the touches he was going to bestow onto you. Briskly, his knuckles touched at your calf and drew themselves upwards and tapered off right above your kneecap. “You were… my choice…? Do not want… Soona. Or any other Female. I have… Chosen only you.”

“A stupid Human---” Self-loathing did not suit you, you realized and felt a few tears prickle down your cheeks which you were quick to reach up and brush away, but Noa in his reflexes were quicker as he tugged his right hand against the upper part of your cheekbone and wiped them off as they came down.

“A… Smart… Beautiful…” Noa tilted his head in to captivate you into a forehead kiss but you were not feeling up to receiving such affection and turned your head to the side as you sniffled softly. Expanding his hand from your swiped away tears, Noa’s palm and fingers fell in line with your jawline and urged you back to look at him. Stay with me, he wanted to whisper but the words escaped him. You had to know that even after all of this time, words did not come easy to him and he needed time to process them in order for the meaning to truly come across. Stay with me, his green irises flooded into your own. “Mate…”

“I can’t give you what you want!”

You blurted out without reserve, not wanting to hold your tongue as you were aware of a group of Chimps rounding the meadow you were sitting in having just returned from a fishing expedition and carrying the evening meal against their back. Noa glanced at them as they witnessed what could only be described as an Echo emotional outburst and his stance told them to keep walking and to ignore what they were seeing. Skuttingly, they were out of the picture and Noa felt the fur on his shoulders fall back down as he no longer needed to be defensive of the situation you were drifting in. He’d protect you, you knew that. Always…

“Want nothing more… than you…”

“W-What about the Clan’s future? I-I can’t…” Whimpering softly, you finally broke down and brought your forehead crunching down onto his. Noa was brisk to sustain his weight and the sudden influx of yours that was brought along with it. “Soo--- Soona…--- Can give you what I can’t, Noa.”

Noa tilted his head into the affection that you were giving him and let his gaze fall shut for just a moment as he caressed the side of your face. Fingertips urged you into him even more, your hot breath eradicating against Noa’s mouth as he muttered, “What… do you think it is… I want it so badly?”

“A mate who can---” Your voice cracked and it wavered to the point where you couldn’t finish the allotted statement. “Wh… Who--- can… Child…”

Words were failing, you were reduced to a fumbling mess of barely comprehensible English as Noa scooted his feet the few inches so his toes were now pressing against your hip and you were able to nearly flush your entire face against his if that’s what you so chose to do.

So… The Ape sighed once again, captivating you to pay close attention to his Noa’s chest rose and fell slowly, beckoning you to a state of calm if you were able to follow his breathing. That’s what this was all about. The one… Unspoken undisclosed relation of the entire scope of things. A child. A baby. Your own. His own.

Stories were told, Noa had Dar tell him about them after they were first mentioned three months ago. Stories of Ape cruelties towards Echo and impregnating them unsuspectingly to play a game that would have never been dealt with in that manner. Gruesome they were, Dar’s words were a testament to the savage nature that Apes would tear themselves into given the chance.

Apes beyond the Valley. Apes from other lands who wanted to cure their own morbidity. The results were born tangled in on themselves. Aspects of the face are more Echo than Ape, their limbs more Ape than Echo. Their body coated with fur that was thinned, more like the hair that protected your scalp from the sun, not thickly placed as Noa’s.

They’d never cry, Dar told Noa. They never lived beyond the womb. That was the reality of the stories that she had heard. That was a reality that Noa wanted to keep from you, never knowing that Humans… Echo had the same stories where it was they themselves who inflicted the aspect of cruelty that spurred such agony in the unborn. Juxtaposed in everything, even Birth.

Noa felt that at times as he grasped the back of your head slowly, feeling the drench of your hair falling between his thick fingers. Morbid curiosity but not in that way that he wanted to destroy you to seek what you thought he needed. He just wanted you… All of you. Fruit or not, it never mattered. If fruit, then he would do his best to protect you during. There were too many variables at play that were to drag both of you down into a pit of worry that you’d never escape from. No fruit, then that was the way of the Eagles. That was what was meant to happen and you’d acquire an heir from a more unconventional aspect.

“That does not matter.” “The Eagle Clan---” Noa felt a state of pride that you cared so deeply about them. About their security in the future and it just further encapsulated as a rightful Mate for their leader. Sure, Soona from a logistical standpoint made sense. Sure, Noa knew he could trust her and would be able to lead and have assurance. But, she was not who he wanted to wean the rest of his life with and it tore Noa to shreds, much like his shoulder had been that night you came to defend what was his, what was yours…

It dug its claws into him like a ravenous Eagle that you were unable and unwavering to see that you were a choice that he made not out of necessity, but out of… Noa swallowed hard and nuzzled his forehead aggressively against your own, the sound echoing against you as he tightened his hold onto the back of your skull. Romantic love. The type you had described to him. The type that you gave him.

“You… are a part of Eagle Clan,” Noa was assured in that as you sniffled once more, the friction between your eyebrows and his browline brought you back to a more grounded state against the World. “You… Give everything I need just by… accepting… me…”

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All your possessions, what little you had gathered during your time alone, during your time without Noa and the Eagle Clan, all capsules of memories from your past, had been packed and taken away according to the nest you were to share with the Master of the Birds and soon to be christened with a Bond that the Clan had never experienced before.

Where you were going to be spending the night in, laying yourself in the full spectrum of his study. Drawing your shoulders in, you felt the push of your breasts against the ripstop fabric of your shirt and the dappling of your heart quickened. It was only a moment’s glance at the room, your eyes flickering against your shadow on the wall. The fire… How you felt kin to it. The dying embers glowing against your face and kissing a sweetened goodbye to your skin.

The jagged nature of the feathers that danced with the festering light against the wood panels of the wall as your casted shadow moved alongside you, the jutting protrusion of them against the headpiece that was fitted perfectly, tangling into a few braids that Soona was sure were easy to dismantle for Noa as was their custom.

Their… Custom… Swallowing hard at your projected reflection without a face, you nodded minutely at them as if to give them the approval that you needed from another Human. Noa was going to be taking all of these things off of your body, as per Soona and Dar’s instructions when you asked about it before they left. There was a shared look between them as they recognized that you… Had no idea what you were going into, empathy ran itself in circles.

“First, the headpiece.” Soona explained in a soft voice. “Noa… knows… Head first…” your mouth twitched at the words she was using, “Then the cloak… Different for this… For… Echo. Clothing comes after that, Noa might---” Laughing slightly, she huffed, “Get confused… Might need to help him.”

“What after that?”

Voice barely a touch above a whisper, Soona looked at Dar at the intimate aspect of your question. It was not in your Echo nature known to either of them for you to ask such private inquiries but it was eating you alive, it seemed as if your stare was desperate for confirmation as if you did not already imagine what was to come. Dar looked at you with a small nod that you acknowledged as being the answer to your speculation.

You were to do the same for Noa. Headpiece first… Then the cloak. And as if you had never seen him… Felt him, your hand squeezed in on itself, as if you’d never feasted your eyes on him, you’d see Noa bare in front of you. It would all be new; it would all be yours to explore for as long as you wanted.

As was the way of the Eagle Clan. Like armor from a battle, piece by piece would come off along with your clothing. The headpiece that wrapped around the crown of your skull and catapulted two feathers into the sky, the cloak against your shoulders suddenly felt heady with worry that you were going to fumble helping Noa take his off when the time came and them the flimsy nature of your own Humanness that carved into your skin like a suffocating second skin.

Clothing. Fabric. You were going to slate yourself trying to get the button of your pants undone, you were going to be innately sweaty for the Ape when he went to draw them down your smoother legs. You hoped Noa understood that; sweat being indicative of nerves that rattled from the knowledge that he was going to see you in a way that no other had ever seen.

The bicep band. You were unable to see in the darkened vision of your body against the wall and with gentle caressing fingertips, you swiped it. That would remain. The only piece of garment to see and to hear what Noa would do to you. To be involved in… Your attraction to Noa was always going to be justified.

Your fingers swished against the leathered nature of your banded upper arm, you just wished… That someone you knew was there to hold your hand; Soona and Anaya both having departed and awaited your arrival with the rest of the Apes, Dar was conducting the ritual and needed to leave and prepare herself.

They could not help you, Noa… Would only be there for you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the hut. He would be there for you, your mind pestering like a broken Eagle song. This was… not a joke. You were not going to leave and have to face the laughs of a hundred Apes at the audacity you had to think that you were special enough to be cared for by their Leader. This was… Happening.

There was only a second's worth of admiration for the space where the Chimp admitted his truest intentions to you but it felt like it was drawing into the Universe like an hourglass that only moved one speckle of sand at a time. Your customs were to become theirs, and their own were to become yours. The cloak adorning your shoulders, not as heavy as it appeared when Dar so carefully placed it, trying it in the front by your scalloped collar bone indentation where the bones fused to meet, became drastic with weight.

Words… As if they were needed at a time like this, a sacred ceremony of the Apes that you had no idea what to expect as Soona had placed the headdress on you accordingly only minutes ago before letting you linger alone in solemn silence for a few seconds before you were urged by Elder Luna to depart. Words did not exist here for you.

The shift in your stomach from apprehension to crude worried excitement was cardinal and made you nearly topple over from a sense of heaved unbalance. It was time. The entryway seemed so small, your vision blurred and you felt like heaving your body over to get sick. Anxiousness was present and she was not going to let you go.

There was only Noa.

There was only Noa. Your eyes squeezed shut as you drew a stifled breath that was tugging around the edges with a self-deprecating laugh as your body worked of its own volition and carried your twiggy legs out of the hut and into the exposed air for all the Clan to see you in their familiar garments that held the years of customs you were to make your own with consummation.

There was only Noa. Every step that you were taking towards the communal bonfire that now served as a flame of the departure of yourself to become one with another, toes were tickling the Earth and servicing dirt that had rid itself of the soot of destruction from flames.

There was only Noa. The way that he looked standing next to Dar, eyelids fluttering open to acknowledge the Elder who had come to beckon your presence for the rest of the Clan to admire, your peer ample with wonderment at the split second you caught hold of him and how left you shell-shocked and full of nothing but stammerance that was unable to come to the surface as throaty words.

How Noa… looked like you, your heart pressed itself to the very back of your esophagus, suffocating in the best of ways as the Eagle Clan’s leader looked you over with matched expressions. You were his, from the cloak that moved with your gait, to the way that your feet kissed the ground, bare and strong. Noa looked like you, you could not get that out of your mind, you bottom lip quivering as you exhaled slowly to bend your anxiety to your will. Like you were staring at a reflection of your own self in a mirror that had been shattered into tiny fragments and then scolded back together.

Noa reached his hand out for you, the action telling you in bated silence to come take your rightful place by his side. You looked like Noa… Parallel as your own arm peeked out from behind the cloak and the shudder of the breeze captivated against your thinned camisole. It threw you off, the chill in the air and in instant relief as his larger palm cusped your softened skin, hot and enamored, directing you to the spot that had been so vacant in front of him.

You stared at his face, sorry for taking so long to muster up the courage to meet him while telling your body to resist the temptation to just fall into Noa’s long arms. You peered into equally jeweled irises that played perfectly against the colors of his headpiece, against the hues of the beads that were entwined so deeply in them. Blues, grays and whites.

Green, you were going to wrap yourself up into the very leaves that danced beyond the Village’s edge in the night time as Noa released your hand much to your ardent disappointment. Feeling your fingers chase after him, you smacked at the hand mentally. All had its time and place. To smear the ceremony with Echo habits would not be kindly looked upon as you gazed out into the crowd of faces you were unable to properly see detailing from due to the flames proximity. That… did not mean they were unable to see you.

The Apes of the Clan, all bi-pedal to gawk and their stubby legs rose to grind the muscles of the calves in order to stagger over one another to get a better view of their Leader and as much as you hated to admit to any garnered attention… They were all needing to see your presence in full, in the coverings that held such a sincerity of affection and memories cased within each thicket of twine and each feather that resided.

All eager and desperate now to see what would come of this union as Dar clasped the back of Noa's hand against her loving palm and yours in the other. in adjacent positions. What would happen? You wanted to know and felt a rocketed shock lick up and down your spine. The future was unknown but that made it only more exhilarating and terrifying as Noa caught your eyes.

Frantic green flickers between your pupils were placed and shackles of hard breathing through Noa’s nostrils were noticed as your lips parted as if you wanted to whisper to him that it was all going to be alright.... Between your fingers rested azure feathers. Both Ape and Echo’s were from Eagle Sun’s undercarriage. Noa was a bit longer and thinned; yours stubby and smoothed around the otherwise cutting edges that reminded you of the flickering of a waterfall in the distance, catching the suns rays just right and momentarily leaving you both blinded with the happenstance of what was to come in mere minutes when the ceremony tied itself into an end and you were announced together.

The Master of the Birds and the new Mother of the Clan.

To take the position from Dar was bittersweet but she was assuring in how she held the back of your hand and admired the tender profile features of your face. She would be there for you, your eyes drifting to hers as you felt a tear roll down your cheek. Noa would be there for you, you longed to have him closer as you were toe-to-toe now. Inside of me, your body yelled at itself from inside the cage that you were able to let the Chimp into. Inside all of me.

Anaya and Soona, looking at Noa with such awe as if they had never seen this ceremony and did not know the intricacies before glancing towards you as you released a rather shaky breath that Noa used to keep himself from flying off the edge. The entire Clan who scrutinized your every move searched to latch onto something that might be considered dis-respectful but for Noa… You were steadfast, your toes sinking into the Earth as if you were an Ape this entire time and your arm wavering from a shake to a solid iron as Dar squeezed your knuckles in her encompassing grasp.

There was no way to look at anyone else, your eyes were acutely focused on Noa… The attention that was sought towards the way that his broad collar bones were holding the cloak of his Father and his lineage, soon to be yours, you felt a flare against your diaphragm at the exciting fear that laid against his body, soon to be replaced with your own heat and heady desires as if they were at the forefront of your mind from the second that Noa decided to save you.

Faithful and reassured, the Male Ape looked at you and drew a deep breath in that you were quick to follow suit in sharing exhalations with. The first of many, you thought with a brisked smile that Noa returned. His scent was clear to you and how it made you want to sink into every crevice that Noa had to offer. The pine of the bristing trees nearby as they had survived the devastation that traveled through the Clan months ago, the water of which became the symbol of your relationship, from the crushing torrents of the oceans itself to the softened breezes of a stream against a sediment torn waterbank and the grassy embark of the nest that was newly appointed to the two of you.

Everything backdropped and began fading away. This little while in the grand scape of things, like so many other pairs before you, was witnessed as a spectacle, one that was in the throes of celebration considering Noa’s status to begin with and there were now ways for you to now ignore the every present notion that some of the other Apes did not see the union as a blessing of future knowledge and advancement, but as a precursor.

They did not matter anymore, your heart quickened to a pace that did not feel humanly possible. Just look at Noa, your mind told itself over and over again. Just… Know… He chose this; Echo as a Mate. Human… To love and adore. You wanted nothing more than for him to crack your skull open here and to dig his way into your thought stream so Noa was innately aware that you felt the same. He was not an Ape. He was not an animal… He was yours. Mate. Lover. To cherish and hold.

Every line of feathers that were placed by a generation that had gone through similar bonding, rituals laid against your body and followed suit to Noa’s, but none of them were the same as this lingerance in time that you two were living through. History, you hated to say it as it sounded so mundane and normal…

Noa was the first to move upon command of Dar, his actions surprisingly collected and it dawned in your mind that he was working his way to keep you calm as Noa was able to sense the terse nature of anxiousness that you had carried alongside your body to the altar. “Place the feather upon the headdress of the Elders present and the Elders passed.”

A simple statement, but Noa felt the fur against his entire body light up as if it were apart of the bonfire that swept the Clan into an ambient night of flushed oranges and yellows, some even darkening to red against the more gray and black feathers that catapulted against your camisole laden chest and mimicked a dance that Noa was already ingrained in. Slowly and surely… The blue feather that Noa had held onto for the last five months was drawing itself to your headdress of twine, leather and beaded ornate.

You did not need to dip your head but found yourself doing just that to help ease the Ape into the first moment of intimate breakage of a virginal process. The shaft of the feather, thinned and small compared to the rest, slotted itself between the already existing gray feathers that were reaching into the Heavens itself. You could feel the shuffle of the action as Noa moved inwards. Your breath hit his chest, the movement of the feathers with your exaltation just the first of many you hoped for the rest of your life, only the remaining would be drawn against his bare fur.

No barriers needed any longer, Noa released the feather gently and brought his hand down to tuck a piece of your hair that was rampant from the pressing of the headdress itself behind your ear, cupping around the body part and down your chin to bring your eyes upwards to his own with a ghosting touch. Melting was not an option, you knew that. Falling over was not needed, but you felt it as you drew your shoulders back upwards, rustling the feathers alongside with your more confident stance.

Your hooded gaze refused to leave his own as you gasped lightly at the way that the Chimpanzee brought his hand down against your jugular. Breaking and shattering for both of you, your knees were brought together as he felt your pulsating heart. Part of the ceremony? You were unsure… Hazed, surely… Noa was the third feather just placed in the headpiece, blue and trusting; the one to take you into his arms and to grow with you and with this came the departure of your past life and discrepancies. For all of the Apes to see here, Noa had taken you in front of them all.

‘I will catch you.’

He signed with his free hand, carefully and disguised between your two bodies were were only centimeters apart from completely collapsing against each other like they were yearning to do for months. He must have sensed your sudden fear of unbalance, a small smile lifting onto your cheeks that Noa had seen the shuffle of your stance catering towards falling over. So Echo it was, you knew that but Noa never seemed to mind and fell right into it with you as a guilty pleasure that cured him of all notions that Echo were as bad as he had been told his entire upbringing.

“Very good, my Son.” Dar’s voice brought back the moment that you and Noa were suddenly thrusted into. The desperate need to be alone to see what was going to come of this as if it were not going to be anything beyond satisfaction. You needed it… Reaching your free hand up that was not gently holding onto the feather, you were fast to snap it back to your side as the rampant idea of grasping his hips was brought closer and closer as Noa looked at Dar with a nod of acknowledgement for her praise. How you needed him… How you were always… going to need him. It was just a matter of minutes.

“(Name).” Your name did… not sound like what you had been called your entire life. It sounded foreign and so far away as you Noa admired the way that the flames played against your face, the shadows casting themselves against your expression. From the tightened pose between your eyebrows from a wash of worry of doing something incorrectly, to the pursed smile you gave him that was seeking assurance from him… Noa loved it all. Flashing in his mind was the knowledge that in a few short minutes, he’d be alone with you. Not for the first time at all, but for the first time as a Mated pair.

Shy and reserved, ready to tear into each other but afraid of how to do so… Noa stepped a bit closer and you could feel his strong toes placing themselves on top of yours which caused you to softly giggle, giving the Ape a good view of your blunted teeth that he yearned to touch with his fingertip. How much duller than an Apes? How much smoother? He needed to know it all, everything about you…

“Place the feathers… of the Elder’s present…” There was a spotted glance towards those very Elders whose scrutiny you had to overcome still but there was headway in that as Noa was adamant of their approval despite the apprehension brought from your species. He did not care, he was willing to risk it all just to have the chance to hold you against his shaking body, clasping to a release that you were only allowed to give him. “The Elder's past…”

There was a shuffle from everyone that was caught in your peripheral. Upwards… Towards the sky itself that happily played a full moon along with the speckling of the stars. Those passed… Koro and many, many before him… You hoped he would be proud of his Son. You… Knew he’d be proud of his Son.

“Placing… The feather onto Noa… With that… Will come your duty to… Eagle Clan. To… Learn our ways. To become the Mother of our future.”

There was a speculative hushed whisper at that, completely justified but no longer a threat to your held position against Noa. The implications of Dar’s words were enough for the Apes to understand and think. Mother of their future, what good was that going to be when you were unable to provide even that? Noa was fixated on the way that your jaw locked, the muscles flashing in the light of the blaze to your left. Still a worry to you, he was unable to break that way of thinking when it was admittedly very ingrained in their culture, their way of life…

Carefully, Noa looked at Dar for a permission that was granted and then back towards you and grasped your free hand into his own. Commandeering… Reassuring… Things would turn out the way that they were meant to… It was clear from the moment that Noa, Anaya and Soona first found you. Your calves flared at the memory. It was clear from the first moment that Noa and you, like pieces in a game, fell into each other and refused admittance or to submit to each other as they both claimed to be the stronger player. It was… There, ever persistent as you were willing to risk yourself for Noa’s life. For the Clan itself. Everything was gravitas and pulled you in as you nodded finitely to Dar’s words. Apes clattered at that, you could hear Anaya and Soona hoot in adamant joy of your acceptance of what was to come for their Clan.

It was Noa’s turn to dip his shoulders, this movement being far more drastic than your own as he was taller than you.

You looked down and allotted into amusement at how his shortened legs fell inwards, his knees clutching at his weight as he positioned his large body perfectly for you to slide your chosen blue feather in. The muscles of Noa’s thighs were on display for you to perfectly see as your eyes danced their way back up his body.

From the thin waist you were going to sit on in what your Human brain conceptualized as pleasure, to the flaring of his chest, so drastic in size to his pelvis and it held such great power as it was adorned finely with the feathers. Shoulder to shoulder, you hungrily admired what was to be yours. The base of his thick and muscular neck, the shape of his nose, one nostril slightly smaller than the other but Noa’s facial harmony sang to you and made your blood feel heated.

Stepping forward, Noa’s line of vision was flushed with your feather adorned chest and the waft of your scent drove him to the very brink of what felt like teetering insanity like he was standing on a cliffside, ready to take a dive in knowing that he was unable to keep his body afloat and swim to shore. You were only wearing the shirt on top, Noa was able to see the crested nature of your sternum flat against the fabric as you raised your hands up and shifted the cloak tastefully.

Bare… It would only take a few actions until your skin was exposed for him to admire. It was hard to look up at you properly from the ridge of his browline so Noa found his gaze falling shut as you shuffled inwards with exposed feet against the dirt to slip the feather in accordingly. There was admiring satisfaction with a small gasp from your lips at how it fit perfectly, much to your delectations as you swept it into him, taking what was rightfully yours with one quick movement and Noa was fast to stand in front of you.

The darker speckles of the Chimps expression drew you in, always. The way his muzzle protruded and fell into a laxed ajar position which was framed by grayish-white speckled fur that playfully kissed around his mouth and chin followed by the heaved breathing he was casing against your face from pure driven excitement. You were soon going to swallow whatever hoots, hollers and huffs Noa had to offer and you were going to eat into them with a savage hunger no Ape had ever seen before.

Animalistically, you wanted Noa to bite you and scream into your veins in a way that a mere human had never experienced. Primally, you want to see how Noa’s body fit between your legs as he took you for the first time, undomesticated and untamed.

Needingly, you… Wanted to see your face in his.

Noa’s arm was around you without a split second. Hard, the staggering muscles ripped into your flesh despite the friction it caught from you being clothed in a ritual garment and a shirt. It was over, Noa knew. Noa had seen this before with another Apes of the Clan. He had to wonder if his parents themselves felt this pull to each other after their ceremony, but how could they when they were flushed with the known?

He had been a spectator at one of the ceremonies before and now all that rested for you was the unknown. You were given no time at all before you were crushing against Noa, your chest bouncing against the dense pectorals he had tickling along feathers and happily, the garments kissed and fluffed at their reunion as you were grateful to accept the Ape’s affection.

So ardent and full of himself, rightfully so as Noa tugged his forehead against yours. No longer chaste, it lingered longingly, intentions now blown out to everyone who was there to bare witness of this monumental moment. Noa… Was yours. The nearly two year culmination that began in nothing but fear of Death ending in a laugh of love as you bursted out into tears, your bottom lip trembling softly at how it felt to have him against you in front of the entire Clan.

How strange it must have looked to them all to see the confusing nature of an Echo crying at such an occasion but that did not seem to take away from their calls of jubilee. The shouts that were given from Dar next to you as she was soon to be joined in by Soona and Anaya, traveling like a soundwave across all of the others, some of which were even perched high above sitting on the winding elevation towards the family nests and the Eagle Enclosure as to see what they had only heard about in stories.

They were loud and boisterous in your ears like a wave against the cliffside that Noa had been staring down, beckoning to him with a song of temptation that turned into rampant affection as you grasped around the Chimps neck to keep yourself from toppling right over.

Flattening your face against Noa’s, you captivated him in what you needed to close the ceremony. From the flashing of your tongue against his sharpened canines, the embrace… Echo… Noa’s eyes fluttered shut from the pull your mouth gave him as you blessed him with a kiss. His hard breathing was against the downward slope of your face as you smooshed into him hard, nose bending into his flatter bridge.

Harder than you had intended, your entire weight was falling against his as you were afraid to pull away from the lip lock that Noa accepted as being one of those Echo things, and it was greeted by his arms stiffening at first before tugging you even harder against him.

Noa… Growled into your mouth, tongue sliding itself to barely touch against your own as the intentions of goodwill were running away from him. If he did not get you away now, there’d be agony to pay for everyone else having to witness Noa mounting you. Noa… swallowed into the kiss, taking your saliva down his throat. It was good… Sweet and carnal to mix with his own fluid. So unfamiliar as you panted upon disconnect, your forehead hard against his in hopes that Noa accepted what you had just given him.

It began here. The bringing together entanglement of Echo and Ape as he experimentally dragged his mouth against yours once more, your eyes shut as you felt Noa reaching a hand upwards to caress the back of your head and eclipsed green and darkened eyes flickered between yours in a silent inquiry.

“Th-that’s called a kiss.” You laughed at him, right against his teeth that you peppered another loving embrace onto with your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks that he was fast to wipe away with one hand as the other kept you close. His taste lingered on your tongue as you dove in and placed a more gentle peck to Noa’s curled up lips once his slightly ajar mouth pressed together in a desperate bid to get his breathing under control.

“Echo thing.” He muttered, resting your feet back down onto the ground. “Will you… show me more…?” His words were not lost in the commotion as the actual celebration began that you two were going to ignore in favor of leaving. They could celebrate themselves… Noa… only wanted to celebrate now with you. Even after all this time, the agreement stood. Only now… You were allowed to demonstrate as if you had any clue what you were going to show Noa.

There was only one thing left, you said in silence as you carded your hands through his neck, Noa’s fingers reaching up and cupping at the sides of your face to hold you near to him, his pelvic bone, so different than two days ago, drifting and sliding itself against your navel as confirmation that he shared the sentiment. Raka was right. The ways of Caesar… Were right as Noa felt his heart pounding at his ribcage.

As if those things mattered in the moment but it truly did give peace of mind to know that Raka did not perish in vain. That Noa subsided to his words and drove himself into obsession just to have you hold onto his hand the entire time, whether you knew that or not. Echo and Ape were able to live side by side, even if it were just one pair. Even if it were just you and he; Noa did not want it any other way. And as you moved inwards once again,, Noa stiffened and brought his other hand upwards to hold onto your shoulder blade as you felt him shift his hip bones into your own, there truly was only one thing left…

“Would you… Like to go....” Breathing rapidly, you peered up at Noa and drifted your touch under the cloak that cased around his shoulders so you could touch his upper arm in reassurance as you were both flooded with adjoining nerves. “Nest…?” “Will you… take me?” There… You wanted to finish but your words caught themselves in the back of your throat like a terribly placed cough.

Noa nodded in silence, feeling the resistance of his body against yours as he pulled back, only enough to grab hold of your docile hand which your Mate was sure to lead in the right direction.. “You are… mine to take.”

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mustainegf · 1 month ago

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Ok this might be a really weird request lmao but I'm hoping you'll write for it. So James(I'm imagining either black album or load era) has been on a tour for a few months and when he finally comes back for a weekend he really missed the reader(they're dating) and wants to have sex with her but she says that she's not shaven down there and wants to stop him but it makes him even more horny and he fucks her really passionately🤭

THIS IS SO CUTE AND SO PERFECT we need to normalize body hair fr

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 ¹⁹⁹²

I had counted the days to when my boyfriend James Hetfield returned from Metallica's latest world tour. As always, he was on tour every now and then, and thus left me to myself for couple of weeks at a time. Now, finally, I heard the creaking of the front door, and the thud of his heavy boots as he strode into the bedroom.

"Baby!" I exclaimed, hurrying over to wrap my arms around him. His strong, muscular frame enveloped me in a warm hold, and wait melted from my body as we held each other tightly. Being reunited to James was like going home after months apart.

But the moment our lips touched, I knew this was something more. James kissed me hungrily as his hands roamed over my curves with an intensity that I had not experienced from him before.

"James," I breathed between kisses, "I missed you so much."

"I know, baby," he said, leaning back just enough to gaze into my eyes. "And I've missed you too." Without another word spoken, he tugged me off the ground and carried me in the direction of our king sized bed. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid me down gently upon the soft sheets.

When he touched me, I knew how he had been starving for me. His hands caressed every inch of my body, his fingers tracing around my breasts, slipping under my shirt to unhook my bra.

A gasp flew from my lips as he flung my bra aside, closing his huge palms over my bare breasts. His thumbs grazed over my nipples, and they instantly hardened. I arched my back, pressing my chest further into his touch.

"Mmm, you're even more beautiful than I remembered," James muttered, bending down to capture one of my rosy peaks between his lips. He sucked and nipped, sending pleasure throughout my body. My fingers tangled into his long hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on my sensitive flesh.

"I've been thinking about this a lot during the tour…”

He trailed off, his mouth moving from breast to breast as if he couldn't decide which one deserved more attention. But then he looked up at me, locking eyes once again.

"And I'm not gonna wait anymore," he growled low. Before words could spill from my lips, his weight shifted down onto mine, and he started grinding into me. I felt the bulge in his jeans nudging my most intimate spot, one that had been so neglected for a long period of time because of his absence.

My hips bucked upwards involuntarily in search of friction against that denim separating us.

"James… stop, we can't have sex yet…” I say softly.

"Wait, what?" James stared into me, confusion and frustration tied in knots in his eyes. "We can't.? What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's just.. I haven't shaved down there since you left. And I didn't want to bother you with it when you got back, but…”

James's face went through contortions, confusion, understanding and then something else entirely.. desire. A hungry, savage need.

"You think a little hair is going to stop me?" he growled, his voice all low and gravelly. "Fuck that. I want all of you, exactly as you are."

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could get a word out, James silenced me with a kiss. His tongue twirling with mine, teasing and exploring, while his hand slipped lower to rest on the curve of my thigh.

"I don't care about some hair," he whispered against my lips. "All I care about is feeling you wrapped around me."

His fingers outlined my panties against the denim, tracing around the wetness that had betrayed my earlier reluctance. A whimper tumbled from a deep part of me as he pressed onto my clit harder, sending sparks of pleasure shooting.

"No more talking," James ordered, abruptly stopping the kiss with a grin, only to pull back from me a little before he swiftly removed both our shirts and threw them somewhere before turning his attention back south.

Embarrassment washed over me as I glanced down, suddenly self-conscious about my natural state. The wiry hairs that framed my pussy seemed to stand out in jarring contrast to the smooth skin of the rest of my body. I wanted to cover myself, to hide this part of me from James' gaze.

But in a flash, his hands were on my thighs, clutching hard as he pulled my panties down very slowly. The cool air hit my heated flesh, and I shivered. I bit my lip as I prepared myself for his reaction.

Instead of disgust or distaste, James merely looked at me with a need that coursed directly into my veins like I was some sort of addict. His eyes roamed my exposed sex, drinking in the details. "Perfect," he growled appreciatively. "So fucking perfect."

Blushing furiously, I stutter out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, James. I should've taken care of it before you got home..." there really wasn’t a lot of hair, but just was still embarrassed.

With a shake of his head, he silenced me, his eyes never leaving my most private place, a place I only trusted with him and myself. "Don't apologize," he said in a husky voice. "I love everything about you, just as you are."

James leaned down and planted a kiss right on my clit. I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with the feeling of his soft lips pressed against my sensitive folds and the warmth of his breath lightly tickling my wetness. I gasped aloud as my hands reached down to tangle his hair and hold him closer to me.

A groan rumbled from deep within him as he tasted me fully for the first time in too many months apart.

As James sat back up, he made no delay in capturing my lips again with his. Our mouths molded together.

Between wild kisses, he started complimenting my body. "You're beautiful." he stammered against my lips. "Every curve, every inch. Perfect."

His hands began drifting upward again and massaging my breasts before continuing on up to my neck. I threw my head back, giving him better access as he kissed across my collarbone.

Then came the praise for the hair itself, “God, I love this.,"

he whispered, running his fingers through the strands that reached straight to my heat.

I couldn't help but watch in fascination as James continued to worship my body. Every touch, every lick, turned me to putty. His fingers played with me.

Feeling brave, or maybe just desperate, I reached down between us to lightly stroke his cock through his pants. He was already hard for me, so big and throbbing.

My bold move seemed to egg him on even further. Giving one last kiss planted right on my pussy lips, he pulled back just far enough to discard the remaining clothes. Completely naked before me now, James stood tall and proud; every inch of him yelled raw sexual masculinity.

My fingers wrapped around his shaft, marveling at just how warm and heavy he felt in my grasp. I started very slowly, to stroke him, adoring the way his member quivered and jerked at my ministrations. This vision of James standing nude before me, his muscles tightening under my touch, God, it was perfect.

The one thing I couldn't tear my eyes from was that whole scene unfolding before my eyes as I pumped his cock. Precum shone from the head of his dick, and instantly, I had licked my lips hungrily at the saltiness of him upon my tongue. His balls drew up tight, a sure sign that an orgasm was about to occur, but I wasn't about to let him have it just yet. Not until I'd had my fill of him.

Reluctantly letting go of his shaft, I eased James back down onto the bed beside me.

I moved over him and James reached up to take my hips and pull me down onto his waiting length. I lowered myself down, inch by agonizing inch, onto his huge cock. The stretch was immense, far wider than anything I had ever experienced up until I’d met him.

The feeling of being full to because of him was inexplicable. Each beat of his member throbbed inside me, stretching me open farther until finally I could take no more. I rested atop of him, panting heavily as I adjusted to the fullness.

I gazed down at James beneath me, pure bliss carved onto his face. "Fuck yes," he groaned out loud, clearly loving just how tight and snug I felt wrapped around him.

With a nod, James began to move underneath me. His hips shifted upward slightly, easing me into a gentle rhythm of riding him. The movement at this pace allowed me to take in the sensation of each inch of him going in and out.

"Your hair… It's beautiful," he muttered between ragged breaths. "Never want you to feel.. fuckin’ embarrassed about it again..."

I felt new colors rising to my cheeks, but a second later, his words brought warmth inside.

Encouraged by James' praise and encouragement, I found myself leaning further forward to brush my nipples against his chest. The friction sent sparks up my spine, heightening the growing pleasure in me.

"You like that?" I asked coyly, my glance down at him veiled by half lidded eyes. Seeing his face contort was enough to encourage me to continue.

It became even more erotic as he was watching me reach down and play with my clit. The vision of my fingers teasing my swollen nub as I rode.

His grunts and groans grew louder, matching the pace set by my hips. "Fuck yeah," he moaned. "Touch yourself like that. Let me see it..."

Without warning, James flipped us over. One swift motion, and I found myself on all fours, presented to him like a willing slut. His hands reached around and grasped my hips tightly, steadying me as he aligned himself with my entrance once more.

This changed the angle of penetration, now able to push deeper. I yelled loudly as I felt every inch of his cock glide deeper inside me than before.

Then there were the slaps, firm smacks of his hand against my ass cheeks that rang out in time with each powerful thrust.

When my orgasm hit, it reached a sharp peak of pleasure. My inner walls clenched around his cock in rhythmic spasms, milking him for all he was worth. My juices flowed freely, coating us both in slick warmth.

And through it all, I managed to squeeze out those three simple words: "I'm gonna cum!" The confession vibrated on my tongue before I came onto James' length.

Falling back against the bed, I fought hard for breath. My entire body felt like jelly, each nerve ending tingling from the residual love.

Of course, James didn't waste a second, and clutched me to him tightly, holding up my weight as he continued rutting into me. The sensation of his seed filling me was overpowering.. hot and thick, it spilled deep, triggering another round of shuddering contractions.

And through it all, James's reassuring words, "It's okay. I've got ya…" continued to whisper in my ear. Simple words, yet somehow, they managed to make it all better.

I lay sprawled across the bed, James still buried deep inside me. The sweat and fluids of our combined passion glistened on our skin, a sticky sheen that highlighted every curve and crevice of our tired forms.

He lay there with me in that position for what felt like hours. His cock was still buried inside me, softly pulsing.

Finally with great reluctance, he slowly pulled out. A fresh surge of heat burst from me as his cock came clear from its tight home inside me.

I lay back now, spreading my legs wide to frame the evidence of our passionate coupling. From my well fucked pussy, his cum oozed onto the sheets with a steady trickle, staining into creamy white.

James's gaze stuck to it, his lips curled into a soft smile. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with awe and admiration. "You're perfect, baby... my sweet girl…”

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random-ikea-drawer · 3 months ago

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ok so i love les miserables

AND I JUST GOT TO SEE IT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE NORTH AMERICA TOUR (more specifically Montreal! (yes i flew to an entirely different country to see it)) and i am incredibly attached to enjolras and grantaire so here are just things i saw that made my nails dig into my thighs <3 (not just enjoltaire)

oh my dear months old source of no big sad

this is 90% incoherent rambling (SPOILERS)

- Grantaire had long hair and a long coat i think that deserves its own point

- During Red and Black, Grantaire did the old “Don Juan” with the bottle right in Enjolras’ face (he was not impressed)

- In this same song, Enjolras got really close to R’s face during “don’t let the wine go to your brain”

- Again, in Red and Black, when they tossed Grantaire’s bottle to Enj, teasing him, Grantaire grabbed the bottle in a… way… when he was giving it back to him

- Same song 😭 Grantaire was bouncing on a guy’s lap during the first few verses

- In DYHTPS, Grantaire pulled Gavroche aside away from the students crowding Enjolras (this broke my heart, he clearly loves him and doesn’t want him to be in a war)

- “Glad to do a friend a favor” with a very suggestive hand gesture

- In the “dogs will bark flees will bite”, Grantaire pointed a finger at Enjolras, the former getting real close putting his weapon between them. They got REALLY close

- Gavroche pulled the middle finger at Javert lmao

-Eponine fucking died (i knew that already, seen every bootleg and version available, still hit hard)

- During Eponine’s death Gavroche ran onto the stage, closely followed by Grantaire being held onto by Enjolras

- Gavroche tried approaching Eponine (that’s his sister bro :()) but was stopped and held onto by Grantaire. When she died however, Grantaire quickly bent to hug Gavroche, man the grief was so clear with them both.

- After she died, everyone cleared to their positions but Enjolras and Grantaire, seemingly for Enjolras to try and comfort him, but decided against it quickly and pushed past him. Grantaire placed his hand on his chest in mock offense 😭

- When the attack was about to start, Grantaire mocked and toyed with tied up Javert. When Enjolras called for hold, Grantaire threw his arms around Javert with a “yep!” and cue the battle starting immediately when that happened

- During Grantaire’s verse during Drink With Me, it’s back to Enjolras and Grantaire being center stage. Enjolras approached him, held onto his arm and with the same hand moved up to brush R’s hair, which lead to him breaking off the contact and rushing to the other corner of the stage.

-He was followed by Gavroche, who hugged him from behind and then they both fell asleep next to each other :((

- Gavroche fucking died (i knew he did still heartbreaking) and was caught by Enj, who handed him to Grantaire

- During the Gavroche solo, Grantaire stood center stage looking to the crowd, not even flinching when the gun sounded, only turning around when Gavroche was already at the top of the barricade

- He tried shaking him awake :(( then set him down and stared at him :((

- That was until Marius fell, Enjolras rushing to check on him, making Grantaire rush to his side

- R grabbed onto Enj and they both held the back of each other’s necks,, from my angle it looked like their foreheads touched but idk if they would do that but MANNN

-Enjolras fucking died first (no wtf :(( )

- Grantaire fucking died last (BRO.)

- Everyone fucking died bro

- Except Marius and JVJ of course

- Mr Thenardier, instead of singing “This one’s a queer but what can you do”, sang “This one’s a queer, I’ll try it to!” and dipped a guy in the wedding 😭

- The “to love another person is to see the face of god” line always makes me emotional just :((

that’s it haha hopefully y’all enjoy the ramblings, ty for reading this far, i seriously recommend going to watch it if you can it’s truly the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen man 😭 may be biased but i’m serious

#drawer rants #enjoltaire #les mis #les miserables #les miz #victor hugo #les mis north american tour #les miserables north american tour #enjolras #grantaire #les amis de l'abc #jean valjean #javert #gavroche #eponine #mr thenardier #might revive my art blog for this fandom gang #im back on my shit 😭

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storm-angel989 · 7 months ago

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hihiiiiii!! I'd liek to request val w reader and reader on her period/being sick jus fluffy comfort w that ?? I'm going through it and oml its terrible and I wanna b coddled by my comfort character lmao, thanks if u do do it. if not totally ok!!! hope u have a nice dayyyyy <3

I feel that pain in my soul! Enjoy and I hope this story brings you the comfort you crave. <3

He knew it was coming before she did.

So when he came home from another long day and found her curled up in her bed with a heating pad, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“Princessa, why are you in here?” He asked, as if he didn’t know the answer.

She was embarrassed. He knew it, she knew it and they both pretended that wasn’t why she curled up in her own bed on the seventh day of each month. He wasn’t sure if it was the event itself or the fear of ruining his bedsheets that led her to crawl away from him, only for him to chase after her, reassure her each month that yes, he loved her, and no, he didn’t want her to sleep away from him. A little blood never hurt anyone, after all- it was the gift that would allow them to have children someday, if they so desired.

But he didn’t say that- he knew better. The last time he tried to make a positive comment on the event, by telling her that his videos starring actresses on their period made the most profit, was met with general resistance and quite a bit of accusations about the stupidity of men.

“It’s a curse,” she had proclaimed with tears streaming down her face. “And it hurts, Val!”

And so, he resigned himself to privately tracking her cycle- simply so he could be prepared for when the time inevitably hit.

“I’m here,” she muttered in response. “Go away. I don’t feel good.”

He knew she didn’t mean that.

“I know, mi amore.” He replied as he sat on the bed next to her. “How can I make it better?”

“Something for the pain, and chocolate. Please. Lots of it.” She replied listlessly.

Unease settled in Valentino’s chest. She never took painkillers- let alone asked for them. He pushed his hand against her forehead and to his relief, his palm was met with coolness. Probably just a bad bout of cramps.

Carefully, he helped her sit up and held the heating pad in position while she swallowed down the pink pills. Once they were safely in her system, she tucked herself willingly into his arms.

The weight of her head on his chest as she curled into a tighter ball made him wonder how she could handle this each month, handle the pain and continue to go about her life as if she wasn’t actively fighting her own biological battle. He tucked her head under his chin and kissed her forehead softly. She needed to understand that she didn’t have to be miserable by herself each month. That he loved her, no matter what was going on in her life.

“Will you let me take you to our room, reader?” he asked gently, “I have your favorite stashed away. And I can order in dinner for us both, if you feel like eating. But you belong in there- next to me. Not hidden away in darkness.”

That, at least, seemed to pique her interest. But as quickly as she considered it, her head rested back against him and she shook her head.

“It hurts to walk,” she whined quietly. “I don’t want to move.”

“Then allow me,” he responded.

He wrapped her into his arms and, making sure the heating pad came with them, carried her off to the safety and comfort of their bedroom. He settled her against the overstuffed pillows and gently tugged the now cool heating pad out of her hands, replacing it with a bar of chocolate and the television remote.

She tore into the wrapper and took a bite. He raised an eyebrow at her. Had she eaten anything yet today? He mentally kicked himself for not checking on her earlier. He knew she had a tendency to not eat for the first few hours and then eat everything in sight. That usually resulted in a tummy ache in addition to the pain. His poor princessa didn’t need anymore pain.

“I’m going to warm this up for you, you decide what you want for dinner,” he said slowly. “Can I convince you to drink something in the meantime?”

“Water, milk, I don’t care. And I know what I want for dinner.”

“Then text it to me, princessa, so I get it right,” he replied as he walked back towards the kitchen.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her settle back and flip on the television. Good, if nothing else, she seemed to be more content.

In the kitchen, he tossed the heating pad into the microwave and checked his phone. Ah. Of course, she wanted her favorite meal from her favorite restaurant. He could have guessed that, but better to let her tell him. He placed the order and pulled the now warm pad from the microwave. He carried it back to her and to his relief, she looked a little brighter.

“What did you give me, Val? This is the best I’ve felt all day,” she demanded.

His eyes met hers. “Nothing you would object to, Princessa. I promise. Just relax. Dinner is on its way.” He laid the heating pad against her belly and smoothed back her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Snuggles while we wait?” She asked as she reached for him.

He gave her a smile and wrapped her into his arms as he climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into him and he held her gently, careful to keep the heating pad in place. Whatever his princessa wanted, he would make damn well sure she got. As he reached to rub her back, a realization came to mind.

She asked to snuggle with him. That never happened during her time of the month. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to trust his love for her after all.

#valentino x reader #valentino x you #the vees #valentino x wife #valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin fluff #valentino hazbin hotel

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innuendostudios · 5 months ago

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youtube

by a wide margin the weirdest video essay I've ever release: List of Songs that Represent "Smart Music" Ranked from Most to Least Appropriate to Put in a Video Essay

this video is sponsored by Nebula, where you can watch ad-free and (sometimes, slightly) better edited versions of my videos for 40% off an annual subscription. just follow this link.

as a quick note: YouTube has already demonetized this video, as two different corporations are claiming copyright on recordings they do not own the copyright to - both are Creative Commons recordings of public domain music, that, in one case, YouTube has misidentified as a different recording, and, in the other, YouTube has the music in its database as under copyright despite it being having been released under CC BY-SA 3.0. I am disputing these false claims and will (hopefully) get whatever money I am owed, but, for now, YouTube is not paying me a dime for this.

so it would be a bigger help than usual if you would either watch the video on Nebula or back me on Patreon.

thanks. transcript below the cut!

List of Songs That Represent “Smart Music” Ranked From Most To Least Appropriate To Put In A Video Essay (And Presented In Drill Bit Order).

1. Clair de Lune, Debussy

This has been top dog ever since the teaser for Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and cemented its position against challengers with a showcase in Everything Everywhere All at Once. Said film could have been the shark-jumping moment where the song was irretrievably lost to irony, given directors Kwan and Scheinert (Daniels)’s style mercilessly marries the aesthetics of prestige and shitpost. Yes, despite its silliness, EEAAO is achingly sincere, but could the general public be trusted to recognize that? But then it won Best Picture, so apparently yes! Beautiful, delicate, to score a film or video with Clair de Lune signals a desire to be seen not only as an intellectual, but as an aesthete. The song could lose potency if the Clair de Lune sequence were parodied enough, but how does one parody EEAAO???

9. Gymnopedie No. 1, Satie

I fear we must, as a society, and as a community of video essayists, move on from Gymnopedie No. 1. It held the title longer than, I think, any champion previous, and for that it deserves merit. But its time is over. It is, like the phrase “mad dated,” mad dated. It is saying “lmao” out loud. Did you know the original screenplay for 2005 film The Island specifically stated that, in the weird culty enclave in which the film opens, Gymnopedie No. 1 must be playing over the loudspeaker? I don’t think Michael Bay followed that directive (I’m not rewatching the movie to find out), but that is how long this was the “Smart Music” song - since 5 months after YouTube launched. If you must - absolutely must - put Satie in a video essay, use Gnossienne No. 1, though it too is on its way to passe. At this point I’m prepared to say Vexations or GTFO.

2. Ave Maria, Schubert/Liszt

Nothing was certain after Satie vacated the throne, and for a while it seemed we might have a Starks vs. Baratheons situation between Schubert and Debussy. Following several appearances in pretentious YouTube videos, the Ave Maria made its strongest showing yet by scoring the opening scene of the grimdarkest Batman film so far, an entire twenty days before getting fully Lannister’d by Everything Everywhere All at Once. Unbowed, unbent, and unbroken, still she nips at the heels of the king, and may yet take his place. No one else poses a comparable threat. Hers is a curious strategy, being a religious, Christmas, and even classic Disney standard now repurposed as “Smart Music;” she gets a big boost every December, but can she take the top spot before this cyclical exposure nudges her back into a prior niche?

8. Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven

If you were in a film program in the mid-2000s, you are sick to death of Moonlight Sonata. Also if you were in a music class where you were asked to determine a song’s time signature by ear - how am I supposed to tell the difference between waltz time and 4/4 with all triplets without the sheet music in front of me? To say scoring a video with Moonlight Sonata is a hack move - you’d have to be a hack to not already know! This was the soundtrack to the blind cave salamander level of Earthworm Jim 2, there’s no coming back from that! I mean, the association with Tallarico Studios alone… It’s done. Roll over, Beethoven.

3. Cello Suite No. 1 (Prelude), Bach

This one is firmly-rooted. It is not going anywhere, both in the sense that nothing could soon push it off the list but it’s hard to imagine rising any higher. It is just slightly too beautiful, too expressive, too legato to fall into the stiffness of Habanera or the pomposity of a De Beers ad, but just close enough to them in tone to always read as a hipper alternative. So you’ll never be overexposed, but never go that long without hearing the Yo-Yo Ma version. And so here it stays, third on the podium, solid bronze, the waterbender, the Plup; with you as always is Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1. (Frankly surprised it took us this long to get to Johann, but don’t worry - he’ll be Bach.)

7. Air on the G String, Bach/Wilhelmj

Told ya. It’s not that she isn’t a beautiful piece of music, and it’s not that she already had her time. In truth, she never got her flowers. Inasmuch as she had a run, it was squished between the omnipresences of Beethoven and Satie. You’ll still hear from her now and then; she crops up, like a lucky penny. And you’ll smile, every time, but you know the stars in your eyes are not present joy, but nostalgia. A fondness for what was and what could’ve been - what should have been. Why - why couldn’t this have had the legs of Gymnopedie? I mean, even the Fucking Champs version - could that have made a run? Could TikTok pick up on it? But comes the day you have to accept - if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened by now. Air on the G String grows weary; let her rest.

4. Duo des Fleurs, Delibes

Bit of a dark horse, this one. Didn’t exactly come out of nowhere - it’s been here the whole time - but you didn’t see it coming! It’s like that time I went snorkeling, and I wondered, “Where are the fish?” I was told there would be tropical fish, but all I saw was blue. Then I caught one flitting by my head and, as soon my eyes registered the shape, I realized they were everywhere! I just hadn’t taken them in. This is the one that makes you ask, where did I hear that before? Was this the one at the end of Margaret? No! How did it go? How do I hum dyads? But then it shows up and, oh yeah, that’s the one! The really pretty one. I knew it’d come around again. Has staying power, could make a run for the top if it sees an opening, but seemingly content, for now, to dance around the periphery, appreciated when heard if only half-remembered the next day.

6. Prelude in E Minor Op. 28 No. 4, Chopin

The bottom end of acceptability. Anything lower, you must avoid. But you can use Prelude in E. It is a risk, and it takes skill. But you can use Prelude in E. It is not for the faint of heart. This is the ending of Fez we’re talking about here. This is that one TED Talk about how everyone loves classical music they just don’t know it yet. This was all over Anatomy of a Fall. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something lighter? Nocturne in E-flat [Op. 9 No. 2] is very nice. Prelude has just enough penetration that some people are going to recognize it, and enough clout that those who do are going to expect things of the person who puts it in a video essay. You can’t just throw this under a rant about The Snyder Cut. But you can - with care, with effort, and with grace - use Prelude in E.

5. Spiegel im Spiegel, Part

We are not ready for Spiegel im Spiegel. The rare “Smart Music” that is, rather than classical, contemporary minimalist. This is - I have been led to believe - all over the film festival circuit. It is the go-to for aspiring arthouse directors. So I assume it is only a matter of time until it reaches general cultural awareness. But we - the YouTube video essay community - are not, at this point in time, pretentious enough to pull off Spiegel im Spiegel. This is not a statement on the song: it is a lovely, sparse, and unpretentious piece of music, which is why pretentious people are drawn to it. And we are not there yet. But I believe in us.

POSTSCRIPTUM

The List of Songs that Represent “Smart Music” is not ranked by quality; they are all, as a baseline, masterpieces. They are ordered, instead, by their possession of antipodal qualities. Beethoven’s Fifth may be a beautiful piece but it’s too well-known - to the casual listener, it reads only as “classical music.” Vltava is a beautiful piece, but it’s not recognizable enough - to most, it will read only as “music.” Pachelbel’s Canon works in too many contexts. Mozart’s Lacrimosa no longer works in any context but “Shit’s About To Go Off.” The Song that Represents “Smart Music” must balance these humors: suggestive, but not too specific; recognizable, but not overfamiliar. The kind of thing one imagines cultured people listen to, and fancies oneself cultured for having noticed it. Just popular enough to signify obscurity to a large number of people.

This impossibility of being both popular and obscure is what keeps the list in motion. Many songs drift back into obscurity before reaching the top, but, once in the primary position, a song begins its slow procession to overexposure. And when, at last, it is too popular to be niche, it does not slip to number 2; it plummets to the bottom, as did Icarus.

Due to this slow but constant movement, new songs will, at intervals, join the ranks, taking the place of those that became gauche. And if, dear listener, you were aiming to trendset, to score your next whatever-it-is-you-do with the newest Song to Represent “Smart Music,” and were I a gambling man… Bach’s Prelude in C. And I’ll tell you why: it appears in the Netflix series Bodies alongside Chopin (#6), mirroring Satie’s dual appearance in The Queen’s Gambit (#9); its arpeggiated structure makes it usable in scenarios similar to the Cello Suite (#3) (Johann did love him some broken chords); and it forms the basis of the Gounod version of Ave Maria, if you would like a Cool Person’s Alternative to Schubert (#2). You may feel I’m playing too safe, but I tell you truly: this song is due. But if I can impart one piece of wisdom let it be this: whatever you do, whoever you are, you cannot use Fur Elise. You cannot. You can’t do it. It can’t be allowed. Don’t fu-

#video essay #Youtube

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beamtori · 1 year ago

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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

demon (in human form)!ji changmin x afab!reader

it's a silly thing that brings you both to intimacy, but the intimacy is never silly.

3.0k words, smut (minors dni), incredibly soft sex, talks abt sex/dicks lol (if u can't talk abt it, then don't do it!), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it bro), penetrative sex, fingering, low-key body worship (f.receiving), so much kissing, pet name (sweetheart), mentions of a broken wrist and scars?

a/n: this is an extension to my fic night terrors on my main! there are a couple refs from the fic, but the established dynamic is a huge turnaround for me in terms of writing for changmin if u haven't read night terrors yet LMAO anyways, for me and @mosviqu ily bar!! <3

CHANGMIN HAD GROWN USED TO your random questions of curiosity. There was, after all, so much you didn't know about his world, and for the most part, he was perfectly fine divulging information to you and being honest. He cared about you, after all. Loved you, even. It was just what he felt around and about and for you.

“How do demons have sex?”

He nearly snorted water through his nose.

You glanced over at him innocently from where you were perched on the hotel bed, your phone connected to its charger discarded on the nightstand.

He cleared his throat, capping the water bottle and setting it aside so he wouldn't choke again. “Sorry?” He sputtered, thumping his fist against his chest.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you replied airily, “Do you have sex the way humans do? Like… vaginal penetration or…? Am I making sense? Do you even have a—”

“Yn, I have a dick,” he cut in, then made a face. “Why are we having this conversation again?”

The two of you were holed up in a hotel several hours’ ride from Moonstone Creek. You were currently on your way to meet one of Changmin's clients about a missing lucky witch's cauldron. Instead of shacking up at a motel, you insisted on staying at a nicer hotel for once. Screw saving money this time; your ass deserved a break after sitting in his car for however long. Maybe you should invest in a butt pad…

You shrugged, shifting your position so you sat at the foot of the bed with your feet dangling over the edge. You held your dominant wrist with the other hand—a month had passed since it had been shattered, and though almost completely healed, it was still a little tender. “I was just thinking,” you said. “Is it like a human d—”

“It's a penis, Yn,” he deadpanned. “You've seen one, right?”

Your skin warmed. “Of course, I have,” you sputtered. “I was just curious about your—” You stopped yourself. “That sounds wrong.”

Changmin arched a brow at you, braiding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table across from you. “Supernatural creatures do have needs, too, you know. Sex isn't just a human thing.”

“I know that,” you shot back. Sex definitely wasn't exclusive to humans. “When was the last time you had sex?"

“I don't understand where this is coming from.”

“Are you a virgin?”

A laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “I think it's impossible for a demon to be a virgin in any sense,” he said, head tilted to the side, tongue tracing his slight smile. It was funny for him to think about, really.

His eyes fixated on you again. “Are you a virgin?”

“Me? No.” Even when you were working your ass off for your accounting degree, you managed to find time to socialize with somebody. It hadn't been that special, really, but the guy had been decent and not an asshole. By your limited scope, that was as okay a time as any.

The room descended into silence.

You could tell he was thinking about something with the crease between his brows and the muscle in his jaw twitching. You didn't know what it was, but you could read that much.

“So why haven't we had sex yet?” was the question that popped out of your mouth next. It wasn't necessarily directed for him to answer; it was more so a… thinking-aloud situation… right…

But by the surprise that flickered across his face, he was going to answer it anyway. “I—I don't know. I guess…” He scratched the side of his head. “I never really thought about it.”

“Oh.”

You could see the regret as soon as he said it.

He brushed a hand through his hair, stepping over to you and kneeling in front of you. His eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening again. “I didn't mean it—like that. I just mean that so much has happened that it's the last thing on my mind. I didn't want it to come off like I only wanted that from you.”

“I know you don't,” you said, leaning onto your knees to lower your face slightly toward his. “But we both have needs, don't we?”

“Are you saying you're in the mood?” He asked.

“I mean—I was looking out for both of us.” You sat up again, leaning back onto your hands, putting more emphasis on your nondominant one. He followed you up and stood between your legs, knee pressing down onto the mattress to lean over you and collect you in his arms.

You both tumbled onto the sheets, your face pressed to his chest and his chin tucked over your head, legs tangled together. “I don't know,” you muttered, “it's been a good month, and I guess I was just…” Insecure. “I’m being ridiculous though,” you laughed the thought away, “every couple goes at their own pace.”

His fingers grasped your chin and pulled your eyes to meet his. The eye contact was strangely intimate with him as it always was. “Yn,” he said lowly, “you’re not being ridiculous.”

He rolled his body over yours, arms bracketed around your head with your noses a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in earnest, searching your face.

You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”

His hand curled around the back of your head as he lowered his mouth over yours. Your nose slotted beside his, and you raised your upper body to hold onto him and press yourself all the more close. You sighed, his tongue pressing into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

There had been a few other times you'd kissed before. There was no rush with this one. He took his sweet time with you, kissing you languidly, devouring you whole. His limbs wrapped around you like a python so you were unable to leave his grasp—as if you wanted to.

When you broke apart, you were flushed and his breathing was heavy. He brushed the hair from your face, your eyes glazed as you stared up at him. “I've never been intimate with someone I care so much about,” he confessed, his voice gravelly from the kiss. Your lips parted for his thumb as he dragged it over your bottom lip.

“Me neither,” you told him. You reached up to run your hand through his hair. “Is it scary?”

“The way I feel about you?” He wrestled down a swallow. “I'm terrified.” Terrified to break you, to lose you, to hurt you. Everything in between.

It wasn't always that you were given the privilege of seeing him so open and vulnerable. He had slowly become better around you, especially around you, but there was still a few things you had to get past. It was okay though; he just needed time. That much you understood. This was new to you, too.

“I'm nervous,” you admitted quietly, “but I trust you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed. “I trust you, too.”

Changmin brought his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to the underside of your jaw. Your fingers buried themselves into his hair as he trailed his lips down the column of your neck as if to taste every inch of your skin.

Your heart palpitated in your chest and you held him close, neck craned to encourage him. A moan slipped from your mouth when you felt his teeth graze your pulse. The rough pad of his tongue swiped over the mark he left.

It was strange to think of how trust and love worked. It would be so easy to rip your throat out, but instead, he was here kissing you.

His fingers danced along the bottom hem of your shirt in silent question, and you guided his hand beneath the fabric and along your bare skin. You shuddered as his fingers trailed up your side and reached the edge of your bra.

He raised his lips up to meet yours again, eyes half lidded.

Your shirt came up and over your head, bra clasp unsnapping behind your body until your top half was bare before him.

And he looked at you under him with an expression you couldn't discern immediately. It was that thing he always did, the look he had in his eyes when he stared at you, but this time felt slightly different.

You shied away into yourself, one of your arms coming to lie across your chest. “What?” You let out a small laugh.

He swallowed, meeting your eyes. “I…” Changmin took your arm and brought your once-shattered wrist to his mouth. He pinned your arm above your head then, so he could see you. “Nothing, I just—you’re beautiful.”

Your resolve softened. “You can touch me.”

He kissed you again then, softly, one palm enclosing around your left breast. You shivered, your heart throwing itself up against its confines so it might reach the hand it wanted to be held in.

Changmin rolled one perked nipple between his fingers and you arched your chest up into his hand.

“I never say it—” He said, tongue swiping over your lips again for any and every taste of you, “—as much as you deserve to hear it.”

His lips met your pulse again, mouth trailing down your clavicle, to the pendant resting on your sternum. The pulsing of the scarlet mirrored your own racing heartbeat and gave your state of mind clean away. Every touch of his lips, lap of his tongue, nip of his teeth along your skin felt like he was tracing your outline and committing you to memory. Every inch of you, loved and worshiped and acknowledged. Not his to own, but his to cherish.

Changmin's shirt came off next, exposing a toned upper body marked in faded white scars here and there. Oh, to kiss each mark upon his body—an endeavor for another time. The twin to your necklace swung over you from around his neck as he returned himself to your embrace.

“You're beautiful, too—d’you know that?” You murmured to him between the breaths between kisses.

“Only if you show me.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Deal.”

You felt his mouth curl up in a similar gesture, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing the length of his body against yours. His weight was a comfort, kissing him was a dream.

Changmin tugged the waistline of your pants down, fingers hooking in the elastic of your underwear, then pausing. “This okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and you helped kick your bottoms off and away. He was swift to follow suit, the belt of his buckle clinking together as he slid it off, then his jeans, and boxers. You could see the outline of his cock strain through the fabric before his aching, reddened length slapped against his lower stomach.

“Would it ruin the mood if I said that probably isn't what your demon form dick looks like?” You asked cheekily as he clambered back over you.

Changmin rolled his eyes. “I'm tryna be romantic and all you can talk about is—mmmph!”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back down to yours. He melted into you, weaving his hand between your bodies so he could drag his fingers through your lower lips. You jolted at the feeling, your hips twitching in his direction in a silent plea.

He groaned low into your mouth, withdrawing as he circled his fingers through your arousal. “Is this all for me?” He asked, dipping a finger into your cunt. His thumb drew dizzying circles into your clit, and you swore you saw stars.

“Yeah, 's all for you,” you exhaled, earning you a searing kiss as he swallowed those words.

You pushed your hips against his hand, a pair of his thick fingers filling you up and curling against the sweet, gummy spot of your inner walls. It was as if he knew exactly where to find it, and knew exactly how much pressure would make you rocket up toward white-hot bliss.

You whimpered against his mouth as the tension in the pit of your stomach wound up tightly. “Changmin—”

“You close, sweetheart? Wanna see how pretty you look when you come.”

His thumb branded your clit with his fingerprint and drove you to insanity. Blood rushed in your ears, head spinning as he helped you over that crest. You cried out as you crashed and the steady pumping of his fingers coaxed you through it. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, grounding you as your legs shook and toes curled.

His fingers maintained their steady pace as you came down from the high. You imagined you looked like something of a hot mess beneath him, but when your eyes fluttered up to meet his, you were struck by the tenderness in those dark irises.

When you could breathe evenly, he withdrew his fingers and collected your come to thumb over the pearl beaded at the tip of his cock. “Are you—was that okay?” He asked, his free hand thumbing your cheek. You saw his jaw twitch as he pumped his cock with his other hand, slickened with both of your arousal.

You gave a breathy laugh, and he nearly stopped at the sight of your smile. “Okay? That was—that was more than okay,” you said. “Ji Changmin, come here. Let me kiss you.”

It was something in the way he crushed his mouth against yours this time, one hand cradling the side of your face like you were all he ever wanted—the other coming up to grasp your side—that had your stomach doing flips. And if actions spoke louder than words, you wanted to believe that he was yelling them at you now. If he couldn't bring himself to scream them from the top of a building, this would be enough.

Your nose gently bumped against his. “Can I do something for you?”

He replied lowly between kisses, “Another time. Just… let me do this for you. It'll be enough for me.”

You melted in his hold, as if he didn't make you a fuzzy-chested, dizzy-headed mess all the time.

You felt him nudge your opening, and you locked your hands around his neck. Slowly, you felt a delicious stretch as he pushed into you. Changmin groaned into your neck, the sound making you arch yourself into him further. His voice alone sent you careening toward your own climax, it was so sensual.

Once he sat in you to the hilt, hips locked against hips, he lingered to give you a moment to get comfortable. The girth of him filled you up delectably, the pain only the undertone to pleasure.

He raised his head out of the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah—” you nodded, “—I’m good.”

He returned the gesture, biting his lip, then swooping down to kiss you again. “You're doing so well for me,” he murmured. “So warm, so tight. Fuck, you feel divine.”

He pulled himself out slightly, then gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Your hold tightened around him, a moan slipping from your lips. He held you as he continued this motion, a steady and strong rocking of his hips against yours, cock dragging along your walls in confident strokes.

He tucked his head back into your shoulder, lips pressing open mouthed kisses to your hot skin. You could feel the dampness between your thighs dribble down your legs, and you were gradually clambering back onto that hill with your stomach twisting in pleasure.

His labored breathing filled your ear, followed by his mouth—marks lovingly pressed into your flesh and whispered in your ear. You locked a leg around his slim waist and met his thrusts, the pacing quickening slightly as you both began approaching your highs.

Your voice came out choked and desperate. “Changmin, I'm…”

“Yeah, sweetheart; I got you.” Changmin pushed himself back up to hover over you for the last few thrusts, his lips pressed together tightly and sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. He slipped a hand between your bodies again and worked at your nub—and it was all you needed to be pushed over that edge again.

You cried out his name, fingernails burying themselves in his shoulders. You clenched down hard around him, breathing hard and ragged.

You thought you heard him groan out your name as his hips stilled and he came. You exhaled heavily, his body wrapping around yours again while you both caught your breath and descended from bliss.

He left a kiss just below your ear and you cupped the back of his head and shoulders to your body. “Fuck me,” he muttered, rolling your bodies to the side, legs sticky and tangled together.

“Didn't I just do that?” You mused.

He chuckled, moving his head to bump his nose against yours. “Yeah, guess so.” Changmin gazed at you then, eyes searching and searching and searching. You never asked what he was looking for; you always figured he'd one day be able to tell you.

He licked his lips and a crease formed between his brows. “Yn… Yn, I…”

The voice inside his throat remained trapped, the words on his tongue froze. You looked up at him, glassy-eyed and patient, the tilt of your lips so sweet and terribly beautiful. He'd never been at such a loss for words.

You moved forward to press a kiss to his mouth. “I know,” you said. Even if he couldn't say it yet, you always knew.

He swallowed, a moment of silence falling between the two of you. His heart careened against his chest, and he was sure if the amulet he wore now had his blood running through it, the damn thing would pound away like a galloping horse.

He wondered how he got so lucky.

But though he couldn't express it in words, he would always find a different way to reassure you that he felt the same. Changmin leaned forward and wordlessly captured your lips again, rolling you onto your back and pressing every last word he hadn't the guts to say into this searing kiss.

I love you, I adore you. Thank you. Be mine, in life and death; mortally and immortally. Every promise, he would strive to keep.

a/n: at one point, yes, i will write abt sex in his demon form LMAO what did u expect from me 🤣 anyways, this turned out to be around the length of an actual chapter of nt haha

m.list

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

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