#also of course this time I was masked and tried not to take it off to drink so I'm probably dehydrated as fuck

[morhath]

I overdid it soooooooooo bad last night guys, I truly haven't felt THIS bad in THIS specific way since I went STRAIGHT from treatment for a minor medical emergency to a dance audition in college. the problem is that the DJ last night pulled heavily from the genre of music known as "songs I first heard in AMVs when I was like twelve" which is unfortunately a great way to make me go absolutely feral.

[wlwloverwrites]

Quiet Drive

Pairing: Old Man!Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: just reader giving oral so reader’s gender is up to you, implied age age… i mean he’s 200 years old so… mentions of alcohol and intoxication, oral sex (m receiving), using spit as lube, Logan growing hard in your mouth, handjob, deepthroating, smut (18+) please no minors

Summary: Logan likes quiet drives, but there’s only way that can happen when you’re sitting in the passenger seat.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK OR POST ON OTHER PLATFORMS.

“Feels weird,” you comment, breaking the awkward silence in the limousine.

“What does?” Logan asks, keeping his tiresome eyes on the empty road and strong hands on the wheel.

Clicking your seatbelt off, you shift in the passenger seat so your body can face his. You send him a smile when he raises his eyebrow and steals a glance at you. A giggle escape your lips before replying, “Being in the passenger seat.”

Logan, the driver you are building a close relationship with, says nothing and only grunts in response.

Despite his grunt and borderline hostile attitude, you take it as a good sign. You feel his eyes every time you walk to and from his limousine. You notice the way he grips the wheel when you whisper his name sweetly from the back seat. And sometimes you catch his eyes in the mirror looking at you instead of the road when there’s a red light.

He thinks he’s slick. He ignores the way his heart races when you text him an address, or masks his surprise when you shout drunk confessions about your personal problems with a bottle in your hand. He also limits his vocabulary to deep grunts as his version of yes and no. He never adds onto your small talk, but can’t help himself from calling you ‘Sweetheart’. He figures if he ignores you hard enough his tiny crush will go away.

In order to get rid of the silence, your hand reaches over to the radio. Before you can get a hold on the volume, Logan gently smacks your hand away.

“Come on Lo’. A little bit of music doesn’t hurt, right?”

He tries to ignore the nickname and the way the hand that reached for the radio, is now resting on his thigh. His eyes look at your hand on his thigh and he wants to groan when you hand slips a little higher.

“Like it quiet in here,” he huffs, but you think it’s a cover up for the blood slowly making its way to his cock. “Is that a problem?”

“Think so,” you shrug as your eyes fall to his lap.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“The only way my mouth is going to be quiet… is if it’s full.”

Your hand migrates to his crotch as you look up to stare at Logan, searching for any signs that maybe you were wrong. Maybe he doesn’t like you and the longing stares are equivalent to the stares you get from your average stranger. Maybe it’s all in your head.

“Sweetheart, do you know what you’re doing?”

The question isn’t a rejection so you waste no time in reassuring him that if he’s willing, you will treat him for every ride he has given you.

“‘Course I do. Will you let me?” You ask, eyes wide and filling with hope.

His face is mean, which scares you into thinking that you have offended him with your attempt to get into his pants and get your mouth on him. However his furrowed eyebrows that emphasize his wrinkles relax as he lets out a chuckle. His broad shoulders shrug, his way of telling you, ‘suit yourself.’

The empty road eases your worries of an accident and you trust Logan’s steady hands before you undo his zipper. You tug at his pants and he awkwardly helps you lower them enough so your hand can palm his dick.

“Wanted you for so long,” you confess, resting your cheek on Logan’s thigh.

You smile sweetly when you hear a quiet hiss the moment your fingers slip beneath his underwear. Your fingertips tangle themselves in the grey hairs leading up to his cock before they hook and tug his underwear down. Logan laughs at the way a line of drool escapes your lips and falls onto his lap, but that laughter is cut off when your eyes meet his and you lick a wet stripe on the palm of your hand. Your wet hand grabs a hold of his semi-hard length.

“Sorry. It can take a while,” He apologizes.

He isn’t as young as he used to be. He has scars that linger on his skin for weeks before they finally fade. His body aches when he wakes up in the morning and he finds himself needing a second cup of coffee before he can drive his first client. He also needs an extra minute in situations like these, despite it rarely happening since he been living his secret life.

“I’m an old man now.”

“I think you’re hot.” You say so bluntly he almost believes you. You wanted to work for his pleasure so it was a win-win situation in your eyes. “Plus, we have more than enough time.”

The address you sent is an hour away so you brush off his words as you hold his semihard-on in your hand; he’s heavy in your sticky hand and it makes you ache. With an experimental lick, you taste him.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens when a soft wine escapes your lips. He steals a quick glance and catches the way you wet your lips before you wrap them around his cock.

Mindful of your teeth, you work your mouth on him and sigh softly when you can feel him. Your dry hand remains on his thigh and you want to giggle when he shifts under your touch drawing small shapes on his flexing quad. Your wet hand works itself up and down, alternating between a tight and loose grip. You work slowly as you mostly use your mouth to warm his growing inches. Instead of pulling off completely when you need air, you carefully move cock so his tip is pressed against the inside of your cheek. After a couple of breaths you focus on warming his spit-soaked cock and repeat the process.

Slowly, he grows heavier and thicker in your mouth. You feel the slight stretch in your jaw and the weight of him on your wet tongue. You’re mesmerized when you finally pull away and let your spit drip down and pool at his base. His cock glistens with every passing street light and suddenly Logan is missing the warmth of your mouth; his hips buckle and curses at his seatbelt pinning him down.

Instead of teasing him, you hold his cock in your hand and press the head of his cock against your lips. Your lips kiss his tip, smearing his precome over your lips. A line of his sticky come stretches over your parted lips when you take in your mouth again. The sight is sinful and has the old man question how the hell he is still driving straight.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.”

His words make you smile. The hand wrapped around him tightens as your drooling tongue licks over the vein on his cock. Logan turns into a leaking mess, especially when you work your closed fist on his cock. His groans slip past his lips and his foot on the gas pedal feels heavier.

“Gotta careful or you’re gonna make me pull over.”

His comment only spurs you on as you suck his leaking tip and let your hand jerk his cock. Your empty hand finds itself gripping his thighs when your mouth takes more of him. Your lips struggle to stretch over his cock and you hold off a gag when his cock slowly reaches the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His loud curse makes you pull off his cock. Mindful not to end his pleasure, you work your hand over his wet cock. The mix of both your spit and his come let your hand glide over his cock and fill the car with soft squelching sounds.

“Thought you liked when it’s quiet?” You ask teasingly.

The question makes Logan chuckle. Adjusting his hold on the wheel, he uses his free hand to scratch at his greying, thick beard. “You’ve got a mouth on you, sweetheart.”

“In more ways than one,” you playfully wink before you let him stretch your mouth open.

The noises of your mouth swallowing his cock paired with Logan’s heavy breathing fill the limo and you feel yourself squirming with need. Your knees ache from holding your weight and the middle armrest digs into your stomach. It’s uncomfortable but worth every moan that escapes Logan’s mouth. It’s only fair you get to hear his sounds of pleasure after dealing with his grumpy attitude.

“Sweetheart, gotta keep your keep your head down,” he whispers suddenly.

Not fully catching his words, you try to pull off his cock to ask him to repeat himself, but his strong hand shoves you back on his cock. Tears build in your eyes when his cock hits the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his thigh and suddenly your nose is brushing against his grey hairs.

“Just a little longer. Stay down.” Logan’s voice is uneven as the grip on your head tightens, keeping you down.

You don’t question, instead you accept it. Shutting your eyes you try your best to calm your breathing. Your tongue licks his cock the best it can with your mouth being so full. The hand that was gripping the base of his cock slips down to his balls.

It takes every bit of strength in Logan to not look down. To not pull you off his cock and kiss you until his lungs ached. Instead he prays he doesn’t come down your throat and tries to drive past the car driving in the opposite lane.

One hand grips the wheel while the other holds your head down to swallow his cock. His windows are tinted, but the asshole driving has his high beams and could easily see you if he just looked over. He is careful to not draw any attention to his lap despite him knowing no stranger would be that noisy. Still he doesn’t want to take the risk.

Or maybe this was his excuse to feel the back of your throat. To feel the way you swallow his cock and struggle to breathe.

“Almost gone, love.” His words are encouraging and have you wondering if you want Logan to whisper sweet nothings into your ear on a regular basis.

The lights are blinding when the car finally passes them and once the road is clear Logan’s grip on your head is gone. Logan expects you to pull off, take a breath, instead you stay. Your nails digging into his thigh only dig harder, but you focus on his pleasure and reach to softly squeeze his balls.

“F-fuck.” His curse is his only warning and suddenly Logan is spilling into your mouth.

Feeling lightheaded, you finally pull away. A loud gasp fills the car and you’re quite a sight. Your eyes are teary, mouth is glistening with both your spit and his come to the point you have your mixture drooling onto your chin.

You let your hand do the rest of the work as you tug at his leaking cock. You let out a giggle when your thumb swipes over his tip and bring that thumb to taste him before looking up at the man who looks like he went to heaven and came back.

His mouth opens to say something, but he’s having trouble. His mind tells him to thank you, but his heart tells him to confess his feelings, but that would be cheesy, right? Luckily he keeps his mouth shut and you break the silence.

“Hey Logan?”

He lets out a relaxed yet nervous sigh before humming.

“Pull over, I’ve always wanted to have sex in a limo.”

He scoffs, but you see the blush on his cheeks and hear his emergency lights turn on. He checks his blind spot over his shoulder smiling when he confesses, “Gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

“But you like me.”

He’s speechless for second before he agrees, “Yeah, love, I like you.”

No pressure tags but also just a few of my favorite writers for Logan! Hopefully yall have seen me in your comments! If not i will comment even more! I love your works <3 @eupheme @mrsimpurity @tojigasm @moonlight-prose @ozarkthedog

More Logan Content

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 ୨୧•❣•

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

summary: benedict has always been against marriage, but when he meets the princess one fateful night he can't help but fall in love.

contains: fluff and a lot of flirty banter.

a/n: another series cos it was just too much for a oneshot! this was so fun to write i just adore him. to the anon who requested this, i hope you love it and all its upcoming parts!

word count: 1.2k

You feel a heavy gaze on you as you glide across the ballroom. The chandelier above you twinkles with a warm glow, the light catching in your hair as you’re spun around by this suitor and that. The king has tired of begging you to select one for yourself and has threatened on more than one occasion to marry you off to the next prince to set foot in the palace. You know he doesn’t mean it, but you also know it is your duty to carry on the royal bloodline. Your father is right. You must choose. But certainly not this young man dancing with you. No, he’s far too boring. Not unsightly by any means, but he doesn’t make your stomach flip, doesn’t make you giggle as if possessed by an unearthly amount of joy. Still, you feel the eyes of another on you.

Benedict Bridgerton has long been a firm believer of marrying only when absolutely, undeniably in mad love. He hasn’t found that, not yet. That is why when his sisters begged him to accompany them to the royal ball he only agreed under the condition that they leave him free to speak to all the lovely women attending. Perhaps he might be able to take one home tonight and part ways come morning. That had been his original plan, anyway, which lay discarded from this very moment on; the moment he laid eyes on you.

Your current dance partner bows before you as the song comes to a close. He gives you a playful smirk before leaving you, and you resist the urge to laugh. You sigh, exhausted. You’ve got half a mind to find your father, tell him you’re not feeling well and retire to your bedroom for the remainder of the night. You’re grasping at the ruffles of your gown to turn and leave when he appears before you. He has a boyish grin fit to make the most reserved of women melt, and his ocean eyes glimmer like moonlight on waves. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?” You couldn’t say no if you tried.

It’s a different ballroom tonight, but you feel yourself searching faces in the crowd, hoping you might catch a glimpse of that handsome stranger you danced with only a fortnight ago. It was no simple feat escaping the palace. You struggled to squeeze into your gown on your own, but couldn’t risk any of your ladies in waiting knowing about your little disappearing act. You slipped on a cloak and placed a mask over your face. You followed an emergency tunnel beneath the palace grounds until you finally found yourself beneath the pale glow of moonlight. You knew it was mad, but you simply had to see him. He consumed your dreams, and when you were awake, your daydreams. He had been whisked away too soon by his family. You couldn’t even get his name, only his surname: Bridgerton. They have always been a respected household, and at tonight’s masquerade ball you can only hope to encounter them.

Music fills the halls of the Featheringtons’ estate, but the plucking of strings and sweet melody of the violins does little to soothe your nerves. You resolve to distract yourself from your anxious mind and seek out a dance partner. They’re playing a lively song, one that makes you laugh giddily as you hop to the rhythm. You’re so overjoyed, you almost forget all about that Bridgerton lad and his blasted piercing blue eyes. That is, of course, until you step aside to catch your breath and are met with them for the very first time since the night of the royal ball. 

“So we meet again, Princess.” he teases, and your eyes go wide. 

“How did you recognize me?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“The same way you recognized me, of course.” he smirks, almost as if he weren’t speaking with royalty. “I would know those sweet eyes anywhere.”

“You’ve got quite the silver tongue, haven’t you, sir?” you smile, your cheeks taking on a faint blush as you fan yourself coyly.

“So I’ve been told.” he replies cockily. He gets closer to you; simultaneously too close for comfort yet not close enough. You’re not sure what to make of this man who makes your heart pound in your chest like no other has ever done before. This man whose name you do not even know.

“Tell me,” you demand in the tone you have grown accustomed to using to get what you want, “what is your name?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” he giggles like a mischievous schoolboy, and you’d be lying if you said you don’t find it endearing. 

“You know mine.” you retort. “The entire kingdom knows it.”

He feigns shock, clutching his heart and letting his jaw drop. “Why, aren’t we full of ourselves?” You laugh, your eyes crinkling behind your lace mask. 

“I know one of us certainly is.” you tease him back, and he loves every second of it.

“Princess?” he asks, but is quickly hushed by you.

“Lower your voice, do you wish for the entire ballroom to know of my presence here?” you urge him.

“Forgive me, Pri-” he begins once again, but you give him a playful shove your father would have undoubtedly reprimanded you for, seeing as it isn’t very ladylike. “Forgive me, my lady.”

“Much better.” you smirk, satisfied with yourself. “You are forgiven, my lord.”

“Now you tell me.” he says. “What is a lady like yourself doing at a ball like this? Surely you’ve been to better ones.”

You’re suddenly thankful for the white mask hiding your bashful expression from him. “You’re right, I have. But, you see, I was hoping to run into someone.”

He replies with a playful, “Oh?”. You can tell he is clearly intrigued by the information you’ve provided him. “What a coincidence. I was hoping for the same, though I must admit, never in my wildest dreams did I think my hopes would come true.”

“Well”, you go on, “I dare say they have.”

Suddenly, his eyes change and all playfulness is replaced with earnestness and solemnity. He lowers his voice down to a baritone only you can hear. “Princess, you truly must know you have haunted the chambers of my mind since the moment I laid eyes upon you. I may not be royalty, but I have other virtues you will discover if you only allow me. I can love you like no suitor or prince has done so before. Say the word, my lady, and I am yours.”

You’re a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you can tell by his eyes, those gentle eyes, that he means every word he utters. And his words couldn’t have described your own feelings any better. “You’re quite the poet.” you grin. “But how can you be mine if I don’t even know your name?”

He laughs once again, and the tension is lifted. “Benedict Bridgerton, my lady.”

You extend your hand to him and his lips ghost your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bridgerton.” 

“The pleasure is all mine.” Benedict beams, rising once again. “and I’m hoping the next dance will be, as well?”

“Of course.” you nod, a glint in your eye only Benedict can catch. “I’m all yours.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue

[seungminhour]

[💭] thinking about the types of hugs bf!skz would give you

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz (individual) x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : lots and lots and lots of fluff and hugs and just the boys being so smitten lol, probably some typos, i have not looked over this too well

◞✩ notes : this has been in my drafts for ages, but i never got around to finishing it lol. also, i wont lie, i loved writing in this little bulleted style. im gonna have to write more silly little things like this! anyway, i hope you all enjoy 🫶

01. bang chan - bear hugs

will open his arms and just let you launch yourself into his embrace no matter the mood you’re in

you’re sad? he just opens his arms silently and lets you come to him on your own terms

you’re seeing him for the first time since he left for tour? opens his arms and lets you come flying to him - catches you every single time

literally engulfs you completely

gently rocks you back and forth when you need it, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet things into your ear

“shh, baby it’s going to be okay. you’re fine, i’m right here if you need me”

definitely the type to cup your face, wipe your tears away and tell you to “turn that frown upside down” with the sweetest look on his face (it works every single time of course bc your bf is just so sweet and loving and caring and you can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at him)

tries so hard to shield you away from the rest of the world by being in his arms

also uses it as a way to annoy you

will come up behind you while you’re trying to do something and just drape himself fully over your back

won’t get off until one (or both) of you end up on the floor

02. lee minho - back hugs

i Really have been thinking about back hugs and lee know recently, like it’s taken over 80% of all my thoughts

he especially loves back hugs in the mornings, like i’m talking clingy in the mornings

sometimes you wake up before him and you’ll be cooking breakfast for the two of you and he’ll quietly sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and just watch as you cook

do NOT try to get him off of you, because he Will retaliate by digging his chin into your shoulder to get you to stop wiggling

you’ll feed him little bites over you shoulder while asking if it needs anything

he’ll do his cute little “mmm!~” and shake his head against your shoulder

you wake him up while while you’re trying to get out of bed? good luck because he’s reaching up and grabbing you by the waist to drag you back in

“where do you think you’re going? it’s not time to get out of bed yet”

holds you there until one or both of you fall back asleep

loves to stand behind you and watch you do your nighttime routine too

asks so many (of the same) questions just because he likes to hear you talk

gets all doe eyed while watching you explain to him the benefits of one face mask over the other

he really is just smitten

03. seo changbin - picks you up and spins you around

this man. oh my god

you cannot convince me that he doesn’t love to pick you up and just take you places

like if you wanna go somewhere and you’re sitting down, be prepared for him to just lift you up and take you where you need

time for bed? he will gently pick you up off the couch and bring you to bed himself, just because he can

absolutely looooooves when you get all flustered by it

“binnie, i can walk myself you know?”

“just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”

is alllllllll about the princess treatment

as a result this translates over to his hugs 100%

literally almost knocks over the guys when he sees you come in the practice room one day

sprints full force at you until he’s scooping you up in his arms to spin you around and around until you’re breathless and dizzy

loves to pick you up and gently sway the two of you when you’re not feeling the greatest

if you come home upset and he’s there, he’s immediately picking you up and rocking you side to side as he runs his hands through your hair

sometimes you want to talk about what’s made you this upset, other time you don’t, so he’ll just hold you in place until you tell him what you need - whether that be a warm bath to relax (which he carries you to) or to be let down so you can pace and rant about how shitty of a day you had

04. hwang hyunjin - buries his face in your neck

he just wants to be as close to you as he can possibly get

loves loves loves the whole skinship of it

sooooo many neck / shoulder kisses!!!

so soft and sweet about it :(

he’ll gently hold you face in one hand while he moves you hair to the side with the other so he can make space for himself between your neck and your shoulder

always leaves at least one kiss to your neck before he rests his forehead there

“you know, hyune, you can’t just hide in my neck forever. at some point you need to come out”

will literally pout, shake his head and shove his face closer to you

he’ll fall asleep like that too

if you two have a movie night on the couch, be ready for him to lay directly on top of you, shove his face into your neck, and then promptly fall asleep within the first 20 minutes

the list of unfinished movies you guys have is astronomically long because this happens so often

you can tell if it’s been a bad day when he comes home and immediately goes to hide away from everything in your neck.

you just hold him there for as long as he needs

sometimes he will talk about it, other times he will just sit there, quietly sniffling while you comb your hands through his hair to bring him a little comfort

05. han jisung - clings to you

i will forever and always stand by the fact that han jisung is one clingy motherfucker okay

like i’m talking he launches himself at you the moment you step through the door when you get home

will not let you go for at least 5 minutes

“hanji, babe, can you at least let me put my things down first?”

the little fucker would hold you tighter and pout “nooo, i just missed you so much, wanna hold you for a few more minutes”

definitely calls it his “recharging time”

will 100% get all whiny and pouty if he doesn’t get to hug you for as long as he wants to

somehow manages to be the worlds biggest blanket hog and the worlds biggest cuddler at the same time

half the time you wake up freezing cold on one side and burning up on the other from where he has cocooned himself in all the blankets and then clung onto you for dear life

does not shy away from sticking to you in front of his friends

if you guys have a movie night with everyone in the dorms, he is not content until you are sat in his lap with his arms wrapped around you and his head pressed against yours

bonus points if it’s a scary movie and you sit sideways in his lap so you can hide your face in his neck when it gets too spooky

06. lee felix - squeezes you

this man just has so much love and happiness to spread, he can’t help but squeeze the life out of you every time he sees you

it doesn’t matter how long it’s been either

a day, a week, hell even if you just go to take a shower and come back he’s squeezing you as soon as you return

most definitely shakes you a bit while holding on to you for dear life

grabs you and does the fully body vibrate thing just to annoy you

sometimes he gets a little carried away and you’ll have to remind him that you actually Do need to breathe at some point

“lix, baby, i can’t- i can’t really breathe-“

“oh!” he’d giggle bc ofc he would, “i’m sorry baby, sometimes i just forget how tightly i’m holding you.”

gives you tiny reassuring squeezes when you need them tho

he can somehow always tell when you’re having even the slightest of bad days

also can tell exactly what kind of squeeze you need

if you come home upset, he’s right there to grab you and hold you tight, kissing the side of your head as the tears that have been building up all day finally come crashing down

tries to physically squeeze the sadness from you because he hates seeing you like this :(

if you come home mad, he’ll sit with you while you rant about your day and offer small, reassuring squeezes to your shoulder to show you he’s listening

07. kim seungmin - rests his head on / against yours

idk smth about seungmin just screams that he loves to rest his head on or against yours

and if he’s tall enough to place his chin on the top of your head? oh he’s giddy about it every single time

loves to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind, place his chin on top of your head, and just stand there like that

is also a little shit about it ofc

“you’re so short, i can see clear over your head. how embarrassing.”

“yeah, but you love it.”

he does indeed love it.

he loves that he can rest his head against yours if he needs a little recharge and he loves the smell of your shampoo and he loves how close your temple is for him to kiss

oh that’s another thing

he will kiss your temple / forehead any chance he gets - like it’s literally his favorite thing to do

when you really need comfort, he’ll pull you close and kiss your forehead before resting his against yours while you try to forget how terrible of a day you had

softly knocks his head against yours just for the fun of it

he loves to hear you giggle and get tripped up on your words when he does it, so he’ll keep doing it until you physically have to pull yourself out of his embrace just to finish your story

08. yang jeongin - waist hugs

i just really think he would be the type to wrap his arms around your waist and never let go, ya know???

like he would always be holding your waist in some way when you’re out in public just to make it easier to tug you into his arms whenever needed

loves loves loves to slowly move his hands from your sides to your back just to tease you a little bit

will 100% use giving you a hug as an excuse to start a tickle fight tho, so always be on your toes

he’ll sneak up behind you, snake his hands around your waist while acting like the innocent and sweet and loving bf he is

and then as soon as you let your guard down he’s going in for the kill, digging his fingers into your sides and tickling the life out of you

won’t stop until you call mercy

“i’m going to have to take away your hugging privileges if all you’re going to use them for is to tickle me.”

“you wouldn’t dare to take them away. you love my hugs far too much for that.”

walks away all smugly because he know he’s right. you would never deny him a hug, even though you know the risk of it ending in tickles

loves to gently run his hands up and down your sides while he’s listening to you talk

he’ll definitely slide them under the hem of your shirt

sometimes this is to place his freezing cold hands against your warm skin to make you jump, other times it’s to provide comfort when you need it

he’s slide his hands under you shirt and gently runs his hands up and down your bare sides and back when you’ve had a particularly rough day

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | your first time together is…your first time

♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), slashers (general)

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral - i tried to be ambiguous but where i couldn’t be, i gave an option for both sets of parts uwu

♡ cw; sex (this is smut my friend), a little bit of implied breeding kink, possessiveness

♡ notes; what it says on the tin; you lose your virginity the first time you have sex with your stabby bf. i can only dream 😔

also, probably the last fic with a random selection of characters , i have the poll results n everything. vincent was the winner and brahms three percent behind him, so they’re being added to a-team permanently

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire

> he’s relieved when you tell him you haven’t gone that far before

> because he’s a virgin too, and probably more nervous than you are

> he’s eager though- he’s always eager when it comes to you

> he pulls you on top, grabbing your hips and grinding up on you as you kiss

> and then he urges you to use his face- fuck it or sit on it, depending on what you’re working with

> and while your hesitant, not wanting to overwhelm him for his first time

> but god, he’s a good little sub, and he loves every second of it

> after he’s made you cum, he pulls away- practically still drooling, and begs for you to touch him

> he bucks up into your hand immediately, already so hard he’s twitching

> if he lasts more than a few pumps, he flips you, seeming shy to pin you, but trying his best

> and he has to take a breather to make sure he doesn’t immediately cum inside you

> he’s slow at first, literally shaking

> and for your first time, it’s all missionary- he needs to watch your face, making sure he’s doing a good job

> and making sure he tells you how pretty you are

> he cums first, he just can’t help it- but he’s not at all hesitant to replace his cock with his fingers

> and he makes sure you cum at least twice more, using his mouth again if he needs to

> by the time you finally catch your breath, he’s already more than ready for round 2

Micheal Myers

> he’s already pushing you to your knees in front of him when you manage to tell him

> he pauses- he’s not sure what to do

> he’s always rough.

> and he’d been rough with you thus far

> he rubs your cheek softly and huffs- and at first you think he’s going to put a stop to things for the day

> until he throws you over his shoulder, giving your ass a playful squeeze in the process

> of course he’s not going to fuck you on the porch like an animal

> not for your very first time at least

> he drops you on the bed and takes his mask off

> it’s not the first time you’ve seen him without it, but it’s still special

> he teases you, hands all over your body as he carefully watches your reactions

> he has you in your undies when he finally gets impatient and goes back to his usual selfishness

> he had you get on your knees again- this time more gently coaxing, and guides you through taking him

> and for the record, there’s a lot to take

> before you have him too needy he lays you down

> you can tell this is going to be a once in a while thing, so you savor the sight of him between your thighs

> he eats you out/rims you like it’s his goddamn job, staring up at you all the while

> it’d be creepy if he wasn’t so good at what he was doing

> if you insist on missionary, he’ll let you this time

> but he wants you doggy so he can watch you take him inch by inch

> this boy has so much stamina

> you cum three times before he finally pulls out, painting your back

> you try to sit up but he doesn’t let you- he’s not done with you

> not even close

Thomas Hewitt

> something about his eyes darken when you tell him you’re a virgin

> he’d never be the one to initiate something first - he’s far too scared of crossing your boundaries to lead like that

> so if you’re telling him, it’s probably because you’re telling him you want him to take your virginity

> and even though he never believed in the Bible, or the sexist shit Hoyt always spouted

> he’s possessive, and if something about being your first is exciting. it was another part of you that’d be all his

> before you know it the man is ripping your clothes off. like literally ripping.

> he manhandles you- unintentionally, but it’s hard for him not to with your size difference

>he spreads your thighs wide apart and goes to town

> he goes down on you again, and again, and again and—

> by the time he sits up you’re already overstimulated

> but it’s his turn, and he’s eager to take it

> you can feel how huge he is through his pants, and your jaw drops when you see him

> “Tommy, that won’t fit”

> he huffs, amused through his mask and nuzzles you reassuringly

> he starts in missionary, but then he pushes your legs up into a full mating press

> he fucks into you deep and hard, going faster until you’re babbling nonsense

> he pulls your hair and makes you look him in the eye as he cums inside

> and when he does pull out, you can feel it dripping from you

> he looks at it and then up at you excitedly, and you know what he wants

> again

[gremlingottoosilly]

Reader who lies about König being her boyfriend to get herself out of trouble, que to König finding out

It was just a small lie. To your parents, at first. You said that yes, of course mom, I have a boyfriend - but oh, he is actually a colonel in the military, something something mercenaries, contracts, I barely see him and forced to wipe my tears of missing him with dollar bills he sends in a tight envelope every two weeks( Konig wasn't your friend per say, just a guy you knew through a couple of other friends - he is always quiet, always out of the loop, one time you helped him fix his phone because he had too many hentai viruses and then you recommended him to just buy an iPhone - and he did. For both of you. Something about repaying for your help. You had a couple of pictures together, with his hand slump awkwardly around your shoulder. He is kinda weird about you, come to think of it - ever since you started to talk to him from this time, he became...awkward. Kinda weird about your...well, everything - and you don't want to be judgy, of course not, but it's still just a bit awkward. Nonetheless, you started telling your other friends that you're...not seeing each other exactly, but that there is something. Mainly because you were tired from questions...and also because Konig is the only guy from your friend group that follows you like a puppy. You only found out that he knew about it when you were exiting a friend's gathering. His hand caught yours, a firm hold on your wrist. Quiet statement that he will drive your home - this is what boyfriends are supposed to do, right? You tried to tell him that he is not your boyfriend, that there is no way he believed in whatever lies you were telling to everyone - but your friends smile at how considerate he is, spend the whole night not drinking just so he could drive his drunk girl home. Konig smiles under that dumb half-mask of his when you try to protest without alerting your friends. when he drags you to his car and instructs you to take off his mask and kiss him properly - it's the least you could do after leading him on for so long and then simply using him as a shield, right? He isn't mad, not really...he'd play the role of your boyfriend just fine if you were okay with him getting it too seriously...

[iichfilwypj]

his dreamy girl | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: i mention a hit? this is pure fluff to me im very bad at this. Also i was falling asleep and i thought of these so it might suck <3 ღ wc: 685 pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

“And then he tried to steal my sword! The one that literally comes back to me! How stupid can you be?” his rambles echoed through Cabin 3 that hot, dark night. Some hours earlier, the blue team had won Capture the Flag, and Percy was especially excited to share all the details with her. 

Like every other time, she hadn’t attended; not because she wasn’t skilled with weapons, but because no one had managed to wake her from her nap. When Grover tried, he received a slap and a mumbled, “The horses are hungry”, in response.

So there she was, lying on Percy’s bed in her pajamas with a face mask on, listening to him recount how he had hit Clarisse on the nose, how he had nearly eaten dirt, and how Annabeth had, once again, shoved him into the lake. His voice was extremely high-pitched, and she was on the verge of bursting into tears.

That was something she hated about being a daughter of Hypnos. Although her father had blessed her with the divine power to control her dreams –and believe me, being a demigod, that was very, very nice–, he also gifted her with a constant sense of fatigue. At breakfast? She was tired. Lunch? She was tired. Oh, she just woke up from a five-hour nap? So what, she was still tired. She couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried. 

When she met Percy, she quickly became friends with the boy who, instead of ignoring her for hours until she apologized for something she couldn’t control, set up a cozy little corner for her in his cabin, with pillows, stuffed animals, candles, and even tea bags. Come on, that boy was willing to challenge his dyslexia just to read something for her before bed.

“And then Annabeth goes, Well, you should run faster. Like, what!? I run very fast, sorry–” Percy’s shout jolted his friend out of her daydream, having closed her eyes as thoughts raced through her mind. She looked at him, watching as he fiddled with the sheets, and decided she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey, ocean breath” she murmured, and to him, her voice sounded like a fucking angel’s. Seeing her there, in his bed made him feel like an idiot and a coward. 

He looked at her with curiosity, quickly recalling what he was about to share and feeling excited to tell about it. “What? I was about to tell you how she crashed into the tree,” but as her eyes slowly rolled back, Percy realized what was happening. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Oh, Zeus, don’t tell me you’re tired!”

He moved closer to her, resting his head on his pillow and basically lying down on top of her. By the way her head was tilting to the side, he knew he only had a few minutes left before she fell completely asleep. 

And yes, he totally chose those last minutes to tease her.

“Oh god, you’re like a baby! No, like a puppy. Wait, was it cats that slept like sixteen hours a day?” the girl tried to push him away with the little strength she had left, but Percy knew that deep down, she enjoyed this. Well, maybe not being squished by him, but knowing that he didn’t see her sleep as a bad thing.

She would never know, but Percy's favorite pastime was admiring her while she slept –oh my god, of course he couldn’t tell her that, it sounded really creepy. He cherished every detail about her, and if she was happy sleeping, he would make the whole world fall into an eternal slumber just to please her.

“Go to sleep, dreamy,” he said, gently flipping them both so she was on top of him. After turning off the little lamp beside the bed, his hands found their way to her back, stroking it softly. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. He dared to say “I love you”

But she was already lost in her dreams, and he was completely head over heels.

again, i am slut for fluff!!!! <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

ADMIN IM NOT THE ANON WHO ASKED BUT I WANT IN ON THIS TOO

Artist!Reader asking the slashers if they can pose naked for a still life drawing please!!/non sexual

Jason, Michael, Brahms being asked to pose nude for artist!reader

chat dont tell anyone this but i keep misspelling michaels name and always rely on the red squiggle line to remind me to fix it i keep putting e before a notes: reader is gn, including their reactions and general feel for the request, non sexual post, short post cws: nudity

JASON

he has mixed feelings about being nude- on one hand he knows its just his natural body, but on the other hand the only time hes seen others nude is when theyre doing something sexual so naturally he cant help but tie that to his own nude body... it also makes him feel... vulnerable to you

if he does agree to it hes not going to be fully nude, and its going to take him a long while to warm up to the idea- dont pressure him, of course... will be wearing the mask, honestly hes probably more likely to get naked in front of you before he takes the mask off

tries his very best to stay still but even if hes covering his bits up he feels flustered under your gaze... even worse if youre really focusing and your face happens to scrunch- shoot him a smile and reassurance and he loosens up enough to not make his position ridged

lots of scars and markings on him to take into consideration... he does feel a certain way if you capture them correctly- a good way, of course!

MICHAEL

honestly? i can see him not caring about you seeing him naked in any context, its just him... so whats the fuss? so he agrees

stands as still as a statue for as long as you need him, it can be hours and he will remain in the same position youve asked him to get into

the mask stays on, though, you can pry it form his cold dead hands... assuming you can catch him dead in the first place... you... may have some explaining to do if someone were to find the piece.. though the odds of them escaping the house alive after is low

pretty solid choice all in all, but good luck getting him to stay if he decides to do something else, hes not going to stop any plans to stand nude for you

BRAHMS

oh you want him naked? hes already stripping down.... hey why arent you getting naked too/hj

keeps changing positions because hes never satisfied, its going to take a minute until he finds something he likes... from laying on his side on the couch to propping his chin on his hand in a mock attempt at the thinker statue- you might have to guide him into a pose that works for you... you... cant help but think it was a ploy to get you to touch and guide him how you want

lots of body hair, if youre not used to drawing it its going to give you a fun little challenge- and its everywhere, too

the only one who might take his mask off, will make eye contact the entire time youre drawing him so hopefully youre fine with that

[imwritingthefout]

A mask of my own face

I love this photo it’s so silly :>

Summary:

reader is worried about ford and his recent... outbursts. they decide to check on him, but find him at the wrong time, or rather, they don't find him, but someone else in his body.

basically: reader gets fucked by bill cipher in ford's body and kinda likes it.

(the title is the song by lemon demon bc it fits)

Warnings: non con elements/ dubious consent, rough smut, p in v sex, some fluff at the end, a little angst but it’s fine in the end

also crossposted on ao3

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

Ford was acting… different. More distant than usual, more…. Off-putting.

He always had a sort of off-kiltered charm in the way he interacted with you, always flipping between being overly confident in himself, and tripping over his own words at the sight of you. Like something in his brain didn’t compute that you were together, that you were his. You got used to this after a few months of dating the researcher, and it evened out for a bit… but now it seems he’s reverted back to his old ways, from before you started dating.

One second he would be holding you tight, saying how much he loved you and wanted you by his side for the rest of his life, but then the next he would push you away to go ‘meditate’ in his lab. He would stay there for hours, only coming up for more coffee. (and strangely enough, to shove forks into his hands when he thought you weren’t looking)

You decided that enough was enough when one evening you realised you hadn't seen him all day. He must've gotten up before you to go to his lab, and hadn’t come up since then.

You went on a search for him all around the house, hoping he wasn't in that god-forsaken lab, but it seems god wasn’t on your side.

When you found him, you saw him sitting hunched over at his desk, writing something down aggressively. You tried to gently touch his shoulder, but the movement caused him to jump so high up from his chair he almost hit the ceiling. You, of course, were startled by the sudden movement and took a step back from him.

He slowly turned to you and his face…. His eyes…. Something about them was wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep on his part or your worrying, but you could swear his eyes looked… off. They were slightly different than you remembered, but you decided to brush it off for the time being, more focused on talking some sense into your boyfriend.

“Hey ford? Can i… talk to you?” you said gently, trying not to frighten him again. He shook his head a bit, as if trying to shake off some grub from his face and turned to you with an annoyed look. “Not now, honey . Can’t you see I'm working?” He said the pet name with a mocking voice, as if he was making fun of you for thinking you’re more important than his work.

“I know you are, but you're starting to worry me… when was the last time you ate? Or drank water? Or even went to the bathroom?” you tried to push back the uncomfortable feeling threatening to overtake your words, your voice slightly shaking when you asked him the questions. 

“It doesn’t matter . All that matters is finishing this page” and with that he went back to his desk, sitting down and ignoring you as if you didn’t exist.

Now you were starting to get angry. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Your health is important! If you don't take care of yourself then you won’t live to see your progress come to fruition!” you put your hand on his shoulder again, more firmly this time. “I made you dinner. Now you’re going to come with me, eat dinner, drink some water and go to sleep. Do you understand?” you turned him around in his chair to look at you. He seemed to flip through several emotions before deciding on one. You didn't quite know what it was, but he was smiling, so you thought he might have finally come to his senses and decided to take a break.

You were only half right.

“You know what? You’re right, toots. I'll take a break, but only if i can take you too” he brought you onto his lap in one swift, strong motion and put his lips against your neck. The sudden movement made a chill run up your spine. You didn’t know if you were more turned on or worried, but ultimately decided that maybe this’ll help ground him and bring the ford you loved back.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him passionately. It took a moment for him to register what was happening until he kissed you back, hungrily kissing you and suddenly biting at your tongue. It wasn’t something you were used to, and it definitely surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

You pulled away a little and he went back to attacking your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving various marks that made your breath hitch. His calloused hands started exploring your body as if it was his first time, awkwardly angling his fingers to touch every part of you from your ankles to your shoulders, and finally down to your breasts.

“God you’re mine now, aren’t you?” The question confused you, since you’ve been dating for a while now, but you decided to go along with it. Maybe it was a new kink of his “yes i’m all yours” you punctuate your point by gently scraping your nails down his chest and onto the waistband of his pants. He groaned at the feeling of your nails on him, his chest puffing up to meet your touch. You chuckle at his desperation. “So needy… you’ve missed me, haven't you?” you tease him lightly, but it didn’t affect him like it usually does. Instead he seems… unfazed “sure i have” he then picks you up and moves you so you’re lying chest down on his desk, and he’s behind you, pushing your middle down so your ass is up in the air for him.

He stands up and you can hear him opening his belt buckle behind you. He seems to be struggling, so you try to turn to him and help him, but he only pushes you down more. “Stupid.. Human… clothes… ugh” you hear him mumbling, but you can’t say anything when you suddenly feel his cold hands under your shirt, feeling you up. You moan under his touch, then hiss as he pinches your waist in an unpleasant way. 

“Hey-ah!” you try to scold him, but are interrupted by the feeling of cold air hitting your sensitive area. Ford has pulled down your pants and underwear, and is now angleing himself behind you. You moan as you feel him push himself against you, his chest flat against your back. It takes him a second to push himself inside you, but when he does, he fills you up immediately. 

You groan at the sharp pain mixed with the pleasure of having him inside you after so long without him. Before you register what's happening, he starts thrusting into you wildly, with no rhythm or consistency. You try your best not to moan, but it's hard when you feel him pushing into you in such a harsh way. 

He holds your hips firmly, trying to stop your squirming. “Come on- ah~ do the thing” you hear him grunting behind you. It feels so good, but the statement still confuses you through the fog of pleasure. What does he mean by ‘the thing’? Your train of thought is stopped when his hand travels to your throat, choking you a little. The sudden feeling of lightheadedness makes you even hornier. This doesn’t feel like something ford would do, but damn it turns you on.

His thrusts start to even out, he doesn't slow down but now they have more of a rhythm. With each one the desk starts to creak under you. It’s straight up animalistic the way he pounds into you, holding onto you like you’re his toy, only used for his pleasure. You feel him twitching inside you, getting close to his release. You clench around him the way you know he likes, and suddenly he cums inside of you. You feel the pleasure inside you come to a peak as he continues to thrust at the same pace, even though he just came. 

The pleasure quickly turns into overstimulation as he continues at his rough pace, not letting you go until he finishes inside you again. Your moans turn into screams as you can't even form a coherent thought. At this point you almost reach a second orgasm, but when he suddenly pulls out at you, you’re forced to come down from your high. You whine at the loss and turn around to see him with his hands up in shock, looking down at you guiltily. 

“What's wrong ford?” you look up at him with lustful eyes, wanting him to continue. 

“I.. uh- nothing is wrong! I'm sorry!” What is he apologising for? “It’s alright, but can you please continue?” now you were frustrated, hoping he would get the hint and continue fucking you. 

“Ye-yeah sure.. Of curse” he gently put his hands on your hips, almost hesitating before feeling you up. He gently runs his hand down your stomach and lands on your thigh, stabilising you before slowly entering you. You moan at the sudden change in him. “What has gotten into you- ah!” you moan as he softly circles your clit with his fingers while he starts thrusting into you. You put your hands around his neck and he buries his head in your chest. You hear him mumbling something but you can’t understand it. 

He starts pushing in and out of you gently, and the stark contrast from just a second ago makes you confused. What is with him today? You try to dwell on it, but when he starts kissing your chest, fondling your breast with his mouth, your thought process is cut short. 

Thanks to his expert fingers on your clit and his even thrusting, you go over the edge. You moan his name as you pull him up to kiss him. It all feels like too much as he stops moving, focusing on kissing you. He pulls out shortly after, taking his time now.

“Does this mean you’re gonna take a break? I think dinner is getting cold” you say softly, kissing his cheek.

“What? Oh yeah- yeah- of course honey” when he says the pet name this time, it feels genuine, like it just rolls off his tongue naturally. You look at him, and find his familiar eyes looking back into yours- slightly confused but loving and caring. This is your ford. The one you fell in love with.

You try to pull yourself off the desk but your legs start wobbling, so ford takes you by the waist and guides you up the stairs. “I’m sorry” he apologises once again, but you reach up to stroke his cheek “it’s alright, i kind of… liked it”

You see a flicker of something dangerous in his eye before it switches to looking terrified, then concerned. “Well.. I'm glad you liked it, but I don't know what came over me. I’m still sorry if i hurt you, my dear” you thought he might be hiding something from you, but that was a discussion for another day. For now, you got your old ford back, and that’s all that matters.

“It’s.. alright. Just give me a warning next time. Jeez” you laugh a little, and you see he starts to relax against you. 

“Yeah.. i’ll try” he seems to be lost in thought, but as you enter the kitchen and he sees the dinner you made him, he suddenly loses his train of thought and looks at you like you just brought him the moon. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much! I'm starving!” he picks you up and kisses you, slightly wincing as he feels his muscles tense up after not being in use for who knows how long. He lets go of you and you both go to eat. You’ll have to talk to him sometime soon about your worries, but you stop yourself when you see the look he gives you; full of love and adoration, like you’re the sun to his earth. You decide to confront him another day. You wouldn’t want to ruin a perfect dinner, would you?

[hazbinwhoree]

General Adam Headcanons

SFW

100% dresses like Adam Sandler under the robe

Pronounces bruh like “brah” unironically

Has a high body count, but not as high as you’d expect

He has abandonment issues cause of Lilith and Eve

He’d never admit it but losing both Lilith and Eve to Lucifer really fucked him up

Lilith left him for Lucifer, and Eve cheated on him with Lucifer

Due to knowing the pain of being cheated on, he will never cheat despite the fuckboy persona

Man can actually settle down with the right person

Wears his mask all the fucking time, he only takes it off to sleep

He thinks it makes him look badass and his favorite feature is the horns

He’s tall as fuck (6’5) but he’s kind of thin, so he wears a big ass robe to make up for it

You can only tell by his arms

He likes to appear big

His favorite thing about himself is his dick (surprise)

Listens to heavy metal

Can’t cook for shit

Needs therapy but will never accept therapy

Doesn’t realize how misogynistic he is and if you tried to tell him he would get defensive

“What, I fucking love women, they’re hot.”

Says “nuh uh”

Cried in front of Lute once– they never talk about it

Shockingly, he doesn’t have any STD’s and he’s very proud of that

Sees Lute as a best friend but he’d never let her know she means that much to him

Has a colorful vocabulary of cuss words and unique nicknames, ie “Danger Tits”

Is really good at coming up with unique insults too

Never get into banter with him, he will hurt your feelings

Sleeps like a rock but moves a lot in his sleep

Seriously, he’ll hit every position in one night

His band is actually really popular in Heaven, and he’s renowned for being the best guitarist

Of course, that only strokes his ego

Ego bigger than his dick, for real

But if you can get past his ego, he can be fun to be around

Touch starved

Cares for very few people, but he would die for the people he does care about

NSFW

Absolutely has a size kink

He’s tall and he loves to be able to look down at his partner

It makes him feel powerful, but he also finds it cute

Has tried every sex position possible but his favorite is missionary

Rarely does he do missionary however because he only likes it with someone he cares about

Phenomal at giving head

He has a long tongue and he knows his way around a vagina

Actually has a big dick, he’s not kidding

Like no wonder he walks around like he’s a god

Also has a virginity kink and it’s definately related to his abandonment issues but he’ll never address that

Whenever he has sex, he always goes for a round 2 in the shower

Actually hates being called things like “daddy” and “master”

While he has some kinks, he’s actually not a very kinky guy

But he’s down to try anything

Has been pegged, doesn’t prefer it

His third and final kink is a breeding kink

He has no idea why but its imperative that he finishes inside his partner

Messy, loves being feral in the bedroom

The kind of guy who’s gone right after a hookup

But if he has a partner, he insists on cuddling after sex

Perfers tits over ass

Will bury his face in his partner’s while they cuddle

One time he came from looking at himself in a mirror during a hookup

Eye contact goes crazy with a partner

Needs to see partner’s every reaction and expression

Also needs control the whole time

Will never sub again, he hated it

[tender-rosiey]

sick — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: taking care of gojo cause he deserves it my baby :((

satoru forces his eyes open with a great struggle, but seeing your face makes it worth it. he presses a kiss to your forehead, before, reluctantly, peeling off the covers and heading to the bathroom.

his steps are heavier and his mind is a bit hazy. he figures quickly that he‘s caught a cold. but, like the idiot he is, he brushes it off cause what’s a little cold to the strongest sorcerer?

small coughs escape his lips every now then as he gets ready. he applauds himself for being able to do everything—despite the coughing fits—without waking you up.

finally, he tiptoes his way to your sleeping form to give you a kiss on the forehead once again. he takes a last look at your face and he smiles, one reserved for you only.

and so the routine is done! he is satisfied as he walks to the door, ready to act like his normal self that definitely doesn’t have a fever that is worsening by the second.

his hand reaches for the doorknob and, “satoru, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

he turns to you, a grin plastered on his face as he tries masking his coughs, “hey, hun! lovely morning, isn’t it? I was about to—“

“sit your ass back down.”

“yes ma’am,” he mumbles, looking like a kicked puppy.

you roll your eyes before pulling him back to bed. but, of course, he tries to fight it, “y/n, I am fine, really!”

“no, you’re not,” you huff as you make him lay down on the bed and cover him with the blankets, “your breath is heavier and your face is flushed.”

you press a hand to his forehead before gasping, “satoru, you’re burning up! and you wanted to work like this?”

“hey! nothing the strongest—“ he coughs in between, “—can’t handle,” he smiles, trying to assure you, but you don’t buy it.

and you are about to retort, but satoru’s phone rings, cutting your thoughts off. the caller is one of the higher ups.

before your husband gets the chance, you snatch the phone and answer the call instead, “can I help you?”

satoru has given up fighting about it anymore and simply accepts his fate. he snuggles closer to your chest while you listen to whatever the old man is yapping about.

then you respond, “satoru’s not going anywhere,” you tighten your hold on him and he feels his flutter a little at your secure hold. when was the last time he felt protected?

the old man’s yapping turns into barking and his voice is like chalk scratching the board so you sigh and reply, tone giving no room for further discussion, “he is sick. also, why don’t you up your game a bit? you’re maybe double or triple his age? shouldn’t you be able protect yourself? anyways bye! rot in hell!”

you end the call with a smile before tossing the phone to the side. satoru smiles into your shirt, “that was hot of you.”

“oh shut up,” you grumble as you pat his head, “how did you get sick anyways?”

satoru takes a deep breath, brows furrowed before he replies, “one of the curses was related to ice…or whatever,” you hum in response and he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

seeing satoru all weak, maybe even helpless breaks your heart. he is usually so loud, so bright, but now he looks so tired, frail even.

you sigh as your fingers card through his hair. you would’ve preferred if his day-off was spent with him being his usual self rather than all sick like this.

though you can’t deny that a part of you feels a little happy because he trusts you enough to be completely vulnerable with him.

so you press a kiss to the top of his head and he stirs around a bit, words a little slurry, “…what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, but I have to go and make you some soup, satoru,” you say while trying to get up, but his hold on you tightens.

he voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, “…stay.”

your heart clenches at the soft plea, but you know that he needs to be well fed so he can recover quickly, “satoru, honey, you need to eat so you can get better,” your hear him groan before reluctantly pulling way.

still, his hand is holding onto your own, and he looks up to you, eyes barely open, oh how you missed seeing those blue gems shinning as usual, even if they scared the shit out of you at night, “just don’t take long…please.”

you nod and press a kiss to the top of his head, “look at you being so polite.”

he grumbles, making you giggle.

you finally make your way to the kitchen. you hope that satoru can sleep a bit till you’re done with the soup.

you don’t feel the time as it passes, already invested in making the best soup for your sick husband.

after a while, you’re finally done. you give yourself a pat on the back before carrying it to the bedroom. you speak, voice low, “satoru?”

he turns in his sleep and slowly opens his eyes, smiling a little, “you’re back?”

“of course, I am, silly. I would never leave you,” and both of you know that those words hold much deeper meaning than it looks like.

you set the soup on the nightstand, “come on, you need to eat, honey.”

he stretches a bit before sitting up—the movement seems to cause him pain but he hopes you don’t point it out—, a wide smile on his lips as he looks at you, “my pretty wife made soup, just for me?” he coughs a little, “I am flattered.”

he sounds better, you note. that sleep must’ve done him good so you hope the soup will make him feel even better.

you take a hold of the bowl and satoru opens his mouth, expectantly. you quirk an eyebrow at him, “what are you doing?”

he closes his mouth with a pout, “you’re not going to feed me?”

he is finally back to his antics, you think as you narrow your eyes, “and why would I do that?”

“because I am your very sick husband who only wants to be pampered by his pretty—“ he is cut off by you shoving the spoon in his mouth.

he swallows the soup, satisfied, and with a grin so wide you’re thinking of smacking him for looking so smug yet so cute at the same time, “thank you, honey!”

you roll your eyes, albeit fondly, “yeah, yeah,” you huff as you feed him another spoon and the smile never leaves his face.

you also notice the little kicking of his feet. does being spoon-fed by you really make him this giddy?

“y/n, you know how everyone boasts about my strength?” you feed him another spoon and he hums in contentment before continuing, “I think my only weakness is you.”

“doesn’t that make you scared?” you inquire as you set the empty bowl aside and satoru wastes no time as he hugs your waist as snuggles into your chest, his favorite place, “having a weakness and everything.”

he shakes your head, “nope, it just makes me want to get even stronger so I can protect you.”

he thinks for a moment, “you got me wrapped around your pretty fingers and I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he then grins, looking up at you.

it’s silent for a while before you speak up, “satoru.”

“hm?” you practically hear the smirk his voice.

you deadpan, “did you just fart?”

“honey, I could never!” and satoru thanks the heaven that he is sick cause he knows that he would’ve been hit by every single pillow on this bed otherwise.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 1/2

Chapter 10 : Calling from Hell just to say the demons are suspiciously absent, is that fine?

masterpost

“Fucking Batman,” Val said under her breath. Her Red Huntress mask muffled the words and made them come out even meaner than she probably meant them. “Years late and too little, even if he’s not working with the GIW.”

Sam hefted her requisitioned Fenton bazooka and pressed her lips even further together. None of them liked this at all. It stank. It was suspicious. Danny hadn’t sounded distressed, but he’d been out of contact too long for such a short conversation to put her at ease. There hadn’t even been time to update him on what had gone on in Amity Park.

“There.” Sam followed Val’s pointer finger to see the nearly invisible outline of a jet in the faint light. It was landing in the right field. 

“It’s them or it’s a trap,” Sam muttered.

Val let out a mean laugh. “If it’s someone we don’t expect, they’re the ones in trouble.”

Sam huffed and said nothing. She couldn’t disagree, but Val seemed too confident for her comfort. They waited in tense silence to see the jet come to a landing. Not long after, a hatch popped open and the distinctive ears of Batman himself were the first out into the cold night air of a January night in Amity Park. 

He was quickly followed by smaller figures- 1, 2, 3 of them. Sam felt nerves churning in her gut. She tried to channel them into aggression. She had to be tough, tougher than usual. There was no cavalry waiting to help out.

Well, there was Tucker, but he was probably going to be more useful in the wings to feed them information. He was pretty good aim with a thermos but that wouldn’t do jack about Batman and a small flock of, what, junior associates?

“Does Batman work with children?” Sam asked under her breath. One of them was genuinely small.

Tucker snickered on the other end of the line. “Uh,  there’s supposed to be a Robin. Guy in yellow, green, and red I guess? Aside from that, there’s debatably like, 6 former Robins associated with him. But there’s also the Justice League’s junior varsity team, so it’s hard to say.”

She frowned at the lineup. She saw purple, black, and red. There was- yeah, okay, there was quite a bit of yellow when the little guy faced them, but she didn’t see any green.

“Showtime,” Val said. Sam crouched further behind cover as the other girl zoomed out on her hoverboard, effortlessly drawing Batman’s eye. She adjusted the dial on her sound settings to hear Val’s feed just a little louder.

“Batman.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Sam cringed at the gravely voice over her sound system. Batman sounded like he smoked a pack a day. She turned the volume down just a hint.

“Not really, there’s four of you,” Val said breezily. Sam suppressed a snort at the dodge. “You wanna meet Jazz Fenton? You’re going to have to prove that you’re not a plant. There’s a GIW facility-”

“Two miles west of here, yes,” Batman interrupted. “I researched.”

“Great. Do you have ground transport?”

“Of course. What is it that you expect me to prove?”

“That you’re not with them.” The subtle whine of Valerie’s weapons started up. Sam only heard it because she was hooked up to the helmet. “They do experimentation and keep prisoners. Show me that you’re not a cop.”

“The police would not support the capture and abuse of people.”

Valerie made a skeptical sound in the back of her throat. Sam couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, but they do.” Her hoverboard’s jet whooshed up in power. “Meet me there, outside the main gate.” She was off like a shot in the dark. 

The four out of towners didn’t take long to get four silent motorcycles out and dash down the lane. Sam thought about what she’d heard as she cut a more direct route on Valerie’s spare hoverboard, taken from Vlad’s deserted mechanics lab. 

Either Batman was a liar, naive, or he was exactly what they were worried he might be. The Justice League was famously affiliated with governments. Wonder Woman was even a member of the United Nations! If someone accepted the claim that Infinite Realms Residents weren’t really people, then they’d say just what Batman had. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t think the people you were hurting were really people.

Sam watched from a distance as the group reached the gated facility. One of Batman's people did something that unlatched the electronic security system. It swung open. 

“Not shabby,” Tucker said quietly. “I coulda done it faster.”

“Not unless it goes off the rails,” Sam reminded him. She clenched a fist against her thigh. They needed to see Batman's real colors before they risked him knowing about their group. It was hard to outplan what you didn't know about, and they'd need every advantage they could get. 

She let them all go ahead before she followed onto the property. It was eerily deserted, tire tracks where dozens of white Vans ought to have been. 

The GIW had deserted Amity Park weeks ago. They were pretty sure there was a skeleton crew stationed out here, but no one came and left anymore. They only occasionally saw an agent wander across the path of a security camera, which were sparse inside the building.

But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous to be here. Even now, a camera swiveled over the lawn, blinking a clear light that was easy to miss during the day. There was a reason that they hadn't risked a second raid after Danny had barely made it out last time. 

Sam swallowed, hard. The bitterness in her mouth felt a lot like guilt. Who knew what the GIW had been doing? They could have someone else held captive. It was a big building. Danny might have missed someone when he was breaking Vlad out. 

‘We did what we could, and we are making a move now.’ 

She repositioned her weapon and waited, tense with nerves. All she was meant to do now was follow along via what she heard on Val's comms and be in the wings to facilitate an escape, if needed. 

“Left,” said Batman quietly. The comms were quiet for a long moment, then- “clear. Clear. Clear.” 

Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Red Robin.” 

“Got it,” came a response, barely audible. Val must have been hanging close to Batman, then. 

“You think now's a good time to try their computers?” Val said helpfully. 

Tucker snorted. “Could just ask,” he sang to himself, cocky as hell. “I know all.”

Sam rolled her eyes. He didn't know all. About half of the property was disconnected from the security system, meaning they had no eyes on whatever was down there. 

“Six stationed here.” 

That had to be Red Robin’s voice. Sam cocked her head and focused on it, frowning slightly. Did it sound young?

Tucker's computer chair made a click when he sat up too fast. “Wait, what? How'd-” His end of the line devolved into rapid typing. 

“Did you find a schedule?” 

“No, it's not in the system. They're on paper, I suppose.” Seconds passed. “My bet is that labs would be in this wing.” 

“Be my guest,” Val drawled. Sam could all but see her crossing her arms across her chest. 

The line went silent for a while. Then, faintly, there came the sound of a metal door opening. 

“Fu-” A GIW blaster went off. “Intru-”

The alarm was cut off before the GIW goon got out a full word, but odds were good he'd been heard anyway. Sam flexed her hands. Sitting this out sucked. She wanted to see what was happening. How many agents were there?

“Robin!” Batman snapped. 

‘The little one?’

Sam felt vaguely ill. They had to be okay. This was Batman’s team.

[helluvabutt]

I posted this analysis to Twitter a couple of days after Apology Tour dropped and it did numbers, so I figured I should post it here since it's easier to format this kind of long form post here anyway.

Guys, thery're just both wearing masks. Like Stolas's is obvious, he literally wipes away the tears and puts the mask back on, goes back to being the unaffected, measured prince he's expected to be. It is a whole mask, it's in his DESIGN

He was born with it by virtue of being royal. By having those expectations placed onto him from the moment he was probably just an idea, not even close to being a person yet. That his mask is heart-shaped is just... yeah 😭

Blitzø on the other hand, seems to have /some/ chance to be a child, especially with Fizz, even if his dad was a piece of shit. But over time, not meeting expectations and the self-loathing that developed as a result drove him to create a mask (lit. mask in Truth Seekers)

This of course, all comes to a head in the fire, and from there on out it is locked in as something he cannot remove. Just like Stolas it is a part of his literal design. And though we see him measure himself and put it back on far less often, he still does.

I think theres something to be said for Blitzø having a half mask, he lets enough of himself out that it could go undetected, whereas Stolas seems very detatched from what's expected of a Goetia, and has to don a full mask to belong amongst them (with no help from Stella ofc)

But with his comment on not being invited out, and Ozzie complaining about him, he clearly doesn't have many fans (or friends😭) and I wonder how much of that and his general awkwardness is because he tries SO hard to keep it up and be what's expected rather than a person.

As a viewer I think that we've seen more mask off "Stolas in his feefees" but as much as he lets his guard down a little around Blitzø he still very rarely actually takes the mask off in his presense. He always waits until there are no eyes on him to let his feelings show

We're starting to see them letting the mask down around one another slowly, not entirely willingly...

But I think that both of them realising the other is also wearing a mask is going to be the first step in understanding that there is a middle ground between putting each other on a pedestal or being scum of the earth, and realising that they've both been damaged and the other gets it, that their traumas intersect in so many ways is ultimately going to be the thing that lets them truly connect and heal together, that and matching each other's freak ❤️

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I'D MEET THE SEA UNDER THE SUNLIGHT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai knows. he knows who you are. he knows what you do. and not only does he know, but in typical dazai fashion, he decides to make it fully your problem. now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out what to do with him—the answer should be obvious, you just can't accept it. but time is ticking and you're treading a thin rope, if you make the smallest mistake...

AUTHOR'S NOTES: part four my children. my eye procedure went well! i've been resting all day, i prob won't be active very much until monday/tuesday, so i'lll queue a few reblogs of this ... i say that, but i also don't know if ill be able to stop myself from responding to comments HAHAH i just love talking to u guys about it so much i cant help it. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: i didnt get the chance to proofread this one bc of the procedure so don't crucify me if the grammar is awful </3 i have a doctor's pass </3

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

It takes Dazai Osamu approximately two days, seven hours and fifty-three minutes to get his hands on proof of your affiliation with the Port Mafia. He supposes it was due to luck—the timing of when he got confirmation of his suspicions—but Dazai thinks it’s also due to his ability to think quickly if he does say so himself. 

He stares at the file that Katai emailed him, a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to push away, unsure if he wants to open it and be forced with physical evidence of who you are and what you do. He doesn’t even know why he’s so hesitant, he already knows. He already knows so he shouldn’t be hesitant… but if he already knows, then why does he need to see the proof? What is this going to do for him? What is he going to do with this information? Nothing, the answer is nothing, so then why-

Katai: Can you quit holding that date from four years ago over my head now?

Dazai: no ^.^

Katai: Of course not. Whatever. Dazai, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop digging into this—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to be involved.

Dazai shuts his phone off immediately. 

He hovers the cursor over the video file on his laptop, chewing the inside of his cheek—the supposed footage from whatever happened behind Tokyo’s City Hall last night. With his heart tight in his chest and the image of your smile burned behind his eyelids, he clicks on the file.

Two days after the event, you and Chuuya are sitting in Mori’s office getting the talk down of a lifetime. Mori has been going on for thirty minutes already and you’re sick of his voice. You don’t know how it’s your fault that the Shimazaki-kai decided to try to take you out while you were in Tokyo but evidently it is.

“I don’t see how this is an issue, boss,” Chuuya finally says, voice strained. “The Sun and Steel are already on top of the situation, Noriko was livid when she realized that they tried to assassinate one of us while we were in Tokyo under the Sun and Steel’s protection.”

“You don’t see how this is an issue,” Mori repeats slowly, voice nothing short of mocking. Usually, he at least tries to mask his annoyance—you and Chuuya share a concerned look with one another. “You don’t see how it’s an issue that we’ve caused this conflict to escalate to the point of the Shimazaki-kai being willing to go to war with the Sun and Steel if it means the mere chance of getting rid of one of us?”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, little hime,” Mori says coolly, leveling his calculating gaze onto you. You don’t flinch beneath it, meeting it head on as you raise your chin. “This all stems from your reckless decision to attack the Inagawa-kai.”

“She didn’t have a choice.” Chuuya jumps to your defense, frowning. “They attacked her at the ports. That was a declaration of war in itself.”

You almost wince at the ridiculing look Mori directs toward Chuuya, voice amused as he speaks. “Is that what she told you?”

Chuuya gives you a questioning look but you don’t give Mori anymore time to stir the pot. You don’t need Chuuya knowing that your decision was driven by Dazai of all people—he’s already angry enough about the situation with the civilian. 

“And here I thought you were going to… what was it you said? ‘Clean up my mess?’” you say snidely, drawing Mori’s attention back to you. “Perhaps the real reason the Yakuza syndicates are so willing to challenge our authority is not because of my decision but rather because of the incapability perceived in our boss.” 

Chuuya’s eyes shoot open and Mori raises his brows, entirely unperturbed by your comment. 

“To think all it would take for you to start biting back…” Mori trails off, unbearably amused and clearly referring to Dazai, making you stiffen. “How fascinating. You’ve kept up this ruse longer than I expected. I think this is the first time you’ve managed to surprise me, little hime.” 

Your expression twists as you look away, ignoring the lost look Chuuya gives you, clearly irritated because he doesn’t know what’s going on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you take the welcome distraction eagerly, hoping to find an excuse to get out of this wretched meeting.

Klaus: your civilian boy is at your tower

You: What?

Klaus: *one image attached*

You stare down at your phone in shock, desperately trying to ignore the curious looks Mori and Chuuya are sending your way.

What the fuck?

Dazai tilts his head to the side, giving the three boys standing in front of him a simpering smile. One of them—the emo one with black hair and white tips—bares his teeth at Dazai like a feral dog, the one in the middle—Dazai recognizes him as Klaus, the boy with you that day at the ports—gives him an irritable look, while the one standing in the back—a nervous looking boy with choppy silver hair and a black collar—lets out a pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s gonna be so fucking mad at you,” Klaus tells him, voice harsh. His Japanese is broken and accented but understandable for the most part. “She’s gonna fucking-”

He shifts into a foreign language mid-sentence—German, maybe—so Dazai doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s sure it’s nothing good. He keeps up the overly confident facade, even if he does start to doubt himself internally.

Shit, he thinks to himself, smile fraying at the edges, what is he doing?

Dazai definitely did not think this through and it’s way too late for him to back down now. After watching the video and seeing you with the gravity manipulator, seeing the brief battle in the alley behind the Tokyo city hall, Dazai pretty much blackmailed Katai into using the CCTV cameras between both cities to follow you back to Yokohama to see what building you live in. In retrospect, maybe that’s a little creepy, but he just watched you and the gravity manipulator kill a whole crew of people so he thinks stalking you a bit isn’t too bad in comparison.

“Who do you think you are?” the black-haired one says, voice tight and pitched. His jaw is clenched tight and he takes half a step forward but pauses when he sees the sharp look of warning that Klaus gives him.

He thinks maybe he is stupid. Ango used to rattle him around and yell at him for doing stupid things back before Odasaku died but he thinks this might take the cake for the stupidest thing Dazai has ever done. Standing outside a building owned by the Mafia, antagonizing three mafiosos, waiting here to demand a conversation with someone who is likely their boss. Ango might’ve been right when he said that Dazai has no functioning brain cells.

“None of your business,” Dazai replies with a sweet smile, almost giggling at the way the boy bears his teeth again, even more livid than before.

“You-”

“Stop.”

All three boys go rigid at the sound of your voice and even Dazai stiffens at the cold tone. He forces himself to turn his head to the side, eyes falling upon you as you make your way toward the four of them. The suit you’re wearing today is different—usually he’s seen you wear black on black, but today you’re wearing a burgundy button-up under your suit jacket. You look beautiful—always do, Dazai thinks wistfully—but Dazai finds himself swallowing thickly instead, not used to the blank look you cast over him before you turn your attention over to the three boys.

Ouch, Dazai thinks, not really knowing what he expected but it still hurts to be dismissed like that.

“Klaus, go wipe the cameras around headquarters—wherever he might have passed through,” you say. “Akutagawa, Atsushi, if anyone finds out about this…”

The two boys that Dazai doesn’t recognize share a look with one another, odd expressions spreading across their faces before they nod. All three scamper off without another word, the silver-haired boy giving Dazai a short, worried look that puts Dazai on edge before leaving. You don’t look at him. Rather, you stride right past him toward the building.

Dazai swallows thickly before following after you. You don’t say a word as you lead him to the tall, black building and Dazai wants to say something but his words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Dazai always has something to say but he doesn’t right now and that scares him because he needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you when the two of you finally get up to your apartment.

“Hey, I know you’re a mafia executive because I had my hacker friend get me CCTV tapes from the Tokyo City Hall and I saw you and that short ginger with the tacky hat murder a bunch of guys. Plus, I had him stalk you so I could figure out where you live.”

Yeah, right.

Dazai shivers at the rush of cool air that hits him as he enters the building with you, watches the way the doorman gives him a curious look before inclining his head to you. You give the older man a pointed look before nodding your head to one of the corners of the room and the elevator—Dazai doesn’t know what you’re getting at but he obviously does from the way says:

“Of course, hime.”

You don’t say anything still, leading him toward the elevator and holding it open so he can step past and stand inside. You follow after him, clicking the button to the top floor of the building before scanning a keycard.

How awkward.

Dazai almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, toss himself right out of the glass elevator looking over the city. You don’t even look at him—you keep your gaze trained forward, lips curled down, not even sparing Dazai the briefest glance as the elevator starts to move up. 

Maybe this was a mistake, Dazai starts to think, twiddling with his fingers as he keeps sparing short glances in your direction. He still doesn’t even know what he wants to come from this—shouldn’t the proof of your affiliation with the Mafia have been enough to send him running? He should’ve taken it as reason to stop reaching out to you, gone back to life before you but-

But life before you was dark. 

His throat spasms as he swallows. Life before you was dark. Life before you was him dragging himself out of bed every day trying to convince himself that he couldn’t let himself die until he fulfilled Odasaku’s final request. Life before you was him fighting depressive episode after depressive episode with alcohol and sex, preferring pain to the emptiness he seemed to constantly be plagued with because at least that meant he could feel something. 

He doesn’t want to go back to that—you’re the first person who's actually seen him since Odasaku died. The first person to make him feel as if he’s worth something. He doesn’t give a shit about about what you do, he doesn’t want to go back to life without you.

He glances over at you again, catching the eerily blank expression on your face as you stare ahead. Three words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

“Are you mad?” His voice wavers over the question; he feels pathetic. Feels like a kid tugging at his mother’s shirt after he did something wrong.

You finally look at him though, turn your head slowly toward him as if you don’t even want to believe he actually asked that. Dazai doesn’t know if it’s progress or not because the expression on your face is nothing short of livid.

“Okay,” he says quietly, averting his gaze back to the glass of the elevator.

God, how many floors is this building? The ride to the top floor is taking an agonizingly long amount of time. He doesn’t know if it’s because the elevator itself is slow or if it’s because the building is just that tall or if it just seems longer because of Dazai’s own turmoil—either way, it leaves Dazai miserable.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you. He should have figured it out before coming here but Dazai just got too antsy with the information Katai gave him on hand and he found himself making his way over here before he could double guess himself.

He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him using Katai to get the evidence of your position in the Mafia—plus, it could put him in danger and Dazai doesn’t want that. He thinks maybe he’ll pin the blame on his professor—you don’t seem to like him anyway, so you might take it at face value. If you don’t, he’ll have to figure something else out to protect Katai but Dazai has always been a quick thinker so he has faith that he’ll think of something. 

 If he’s lucky, you’ll lead the conversation and he’ll be able to reflect off of you after seeing where your head's at. That would be the best case scenario.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally bings, signaling that it has finally reached the top floor of the building. You step out before him, hardly even looking at him as you stride into your apartment. Dazai follows after, a bit more hesitantly.

His breath catches as his gaze twists around the massive space—floor to ceiling windows line the walls looking over the city, black couches set up in front of the TV and expensive decor littering the room, there’s a kitchen off to the right and a staircase leading up to a second level. 

What types of apartments have staircases? Dazai thinks, distressed, finally looking back at you. 

You’ve crossed the room—almost like you’ve wanted to put as much distance as possible between you and him, which is a thought that kind of hurts because he’s been yearning for your presence since you left his apartment the morning you were supposed to leave for abroad. Your expression is entirely unreadable and Dazai doesn’t really know how to feel about that because he can’t figure out how to approach this now. 

“You know, originally I was interested in you because I thought you were a lot smarter than you made yourself out to be,” you say, voice dry. Dazai nearly cheers, realizing that he did, in fact, get the best case scenario—he listens intently, mind racing as he tries to figure out what route he should take with you. “I was clearly wrong.”

Dazai pouts. “My bella thinks I’m stupid,” he sighs dramatically but his lashes flutter as he averts his gaze when you don’t find any amusement in his words, readjusting his plan. His theatrical lilt falls flat when he adds, “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think there’s a maybe,” you correct, unamused. “What do you know and what do you want?” 

Dazai is almost taken aback by your tone—cold and flat, very transactional. Maybe he should have taken the lead because he doesn’t know what you mean and he doesn’t like your tone. He watches as you fish through your pocket to find a cigarette and lighter, sticking it between your lips to light it. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“What?” he asks, voice a bit weak.

“What do you know and what do you want? I think they’re pretty simple questions,” you say sardonically. “I have a general idea of what you know already—if you’re here, you have more than whatever that cunt Ui has on me—and I promise you that no amount of money the Ivory Eagle will offer you can compare to what I’ll give you. Plus, I’ll have to kill you if you go to it with them so I think that’s pretty convincing in itself. I want to know exactly what you know so I can figure out how much they’d pay you for the information. I figure you want money, that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t…” Dazai trails off, a bit lost. He’s still not sure why he came here but he knows it’s not for money and honestly, he thinks he’s a little hurt that you assumed that, can feel the sting in his chest and the lump in his throat.

The smile you give him is cool, you tilt your head to the side and look at him. “Come on, Dazai, you don’t have to keep up with the act. You got close to me to get evidence for Ui, that’s obvious; probably realized it would be more worthwhile trying to get money from me to keep you quiet because they’ve barely got enough money to keep their shitty journalism house running. Honestly, I should probably just-”

“No,” Dazai forces out, interrupting you, lips parted and throat swollen—this is not going well. “That’s not-that’s not true. I didn’t get close to you to get evidence, I didn’t even know until the other day.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Dazai?” you ask, expression tight. “Because I’m not. As soon as you slipped up and said his name at the event, I realized. You think we don’t know everything that goes on in this city? About that shitty journalist group trying to expose us?” 

“I didn’t slip up,” Dazai says, voice more shrill than he intended it to be. His mind falls flat at every corner as he tries to figure out how to salvage this. “I didn’t slip up because I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It wasn’t-this wasn’t some grand scheme, I like you-” (he didn’t mean to say that) “I mean-it’s just-I don’t-”

Dazai feels flustered. He feels flustered and he’s stumbling over words in a way that he hasn’t in years, unable to get out a single coherent sentence because his mind is all over the place. Shit, he thought he was going to have to defend himself from having Katai stalk you so he could figure this out and find you; he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself because you thought everything from day one was some grand scheme to expose you as a mafioso.

You clearly don’t believe him from the way you roll your eyes and it makes Dazai’s distress spike exponentially. 

“Then pray tell, Dazai, why are you here? You’re here for something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here of all places to dangle over my head that you know who I am.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them.

“I wanted you to stop ignoring me,” he says, arms instinctively curling around his body as he stares at you, feeling more than a bit vulnerable at the blank look you give him in response to his words.

“You… want to make me stop ignoring you by… blackmailing me?”

“... Yes?”

The sigh you let out is long. Instead of responding, you take a drag of your cigarette, tilting your head back against the wall you’re leaning on to look up at the ceiling. Dazai stares at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for your response.

“What do you have on me?” you finally ask, taking a few steps forward to put the cigarette out on an ashtray before raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. “Well? I know you must have more than the location of this building.”

Dazai hesitates before he says, “Footage from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

Your expression doesn’t betray you as you press, “Footage of what?”

“You and the ginger with the ugly hat,” Dazai answers, trying not to smile at the way you clearly have to hide your amusement at his snide comment. 

“What are we doing in the footage?” you ask. “What makes it condemning?”

“… He splattered six guys against the wall.” 

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dazai. You saw that and still came here? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai gives you a weak smile “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, there are a lot of things wrong with me,” he tells you, echoing the words from your second meeting with him, hoping they make you lighten up.

They do.

He watches as you let out another breath, tense shoulders relaxing, suddenly looking a lot more tired as you look away from him.

“I missed you,” he adds quietly, fingers running along the hem of his sweater. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to kiss a guy like you did and then ghost him.”

“It was to keep you out of this life, Dazai,” you say tiredly. “I mean-shit, Dazai. I don’t know what you want me to do, I don’t even trust you right now, you could have a fucking wire on you for all I know and-”

“I could strip for you,” Dazai offers, lips curling up in a flirtatious smile as he flutters his lashes at you. “I’ll give you a show.”

You’re not amused.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Dazai. This is your life.”

“Well, my life has been one giant joke up until I met you so forgive me if I don’t care,” Dazai says, voice unintentionally rising in response to your words because who are you to decide on his behalf to cut him off because his life is in danger. That’s a decision for him to make. “You can’t just make those decisions for me.”

Dazai thinks he prefers the anger that crosses over your face to the tiredness and emptiness. His breath catches when he sees the way your jaw tightens and the way your eyes get fired up.

“It doesn’t just affect you, Dazai,” you hiss. “If you get pulled into this and something happens to you, that’s on me.”

Dazai’s heart jumps at the implications of your words, nails digging into his palms.

“And how does that affect you?” Dazai presses, the desperation that hangs off of his words so glaring that Dazai almost wants to curl in on himself. He wants to hear you say it, wants you to alleviate all of the thoughts threatening to consume him since you left his apartment that morning—wants to hear you say that you care, that he does mean something to you.

Your expression becomes closed off again as you realize what he wants you to say and Dazai swallows thickly, gaze searching your face for answers.

“You know how it affects me,” you finally respond as you look away. “You know, Dazai.”

It has nothing to do with what I want, you said at the event when he asked why you didn’t tell him why you didn’t want to be with him. The conflict on your face when you said things were too complicated to explain. The anger when you realized Professor Ui had purposely put him in danger trying to get evidence to condemn the Sun and Steel.

“I want you to say it,” he says hoarsely.

You don’t reply for a moment, watching him with an expression that’s impossible for him to decipher. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together tight, but the look in your eyes—there’s so much emotion in them that Dazai thinks he could get lost in them, it nearly leaves him breathless.

“You are actually the bane of my existence, Dazai Osamu,” you finally say, shoulders slumping as you look away again. Not exactly what he wanted to hear but he thinks that’s as good of an admission that he’s going to get right now.

“And the object of all of your desires?” Dazai prods with a teasing smile.

Your gaze cuts back toward him. “Did you just quote Bridgerton at me?” you ask, voice riddled with disbelief.

Embarrassed, Dazai flushes and then he hits you back with: “You watched Bridgerton?”

Instead of responding, seemingly equally embarrassed by the callout as Dazai is, you scowl at him and shake your head but your voice is lighter now when you speak—if only barely. “Honestly, Dazai, what did you think you were going to get out of this by coming here? I could have killed you. I should kill you. Coming to the headquarters of the Port Mafia to blackmail one of its executives with evidence threatening to expose them-”

“I didn’t threaten to expose you,” Dazai protests, prancing a bit more into your apartment. Now that he’s not as stressed, he can actually admire your apartment—apartment, is this even an apartment? He runs his fingers along the pristine black marble of the bar separating your kitchen from the living room, ignoring the way your eyes follow him. “I just…”

“You threatened to expose me,” you interrupt dryly. “You implied it.”

“I did not,” Dazai complains. “It’s not my fault you took it that way.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you thinking, Dazai?” you ask again.

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “I’m thinking that you’re going to take me out on a date.”

You don’t know why you’re even entertaining him.

Three days later, you’re outside Dazai’s apartment complex waiting for him to get back from his classes. You’d have gone to the campus itself but you don’t feel like having to beg Albatross or Iceman to get into the campus cameras to wipe the footage of you being there, especially knowing that it’ll get right back to Chuuya who is still under the belief that you’re no longer talking to Dazai.

You scowl as you look down at your phone, checking the time again. He should’ve been back ten minutes ago—you told him you were here waiting. Your reservation is in thirty minutes and he still has to change, you glance over your shoulder as a group of college students make their way toward the complex. You hardly stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you’d figured that the complex would be popular with the kids attending YNU—that’s why you ended up buying it—but you really don’t want to interact with any of them. 

You can feel them looking at you too—fuck, you should have just stayed in your car. From the corner of your eye, you can see them exchange curious looks with one another. One of the boys nudges another, clearly beckoning him to go try to talk to you and you will strength from the gods-

You hear your name fall from familiar lips, quiet and unsure, and the unpleasant expression that you know must be on your face melts away. You let your head fall to the side over your shoulder, gaze focusing on Dazai—he’s dressed casually in a brown sweater and cream pants, school books tucked to his chest and backpack hanging off of his shoulders. He looks surprised at the sight of you so you raise your eyebrows.

“You’re late, I texted you,” you say simply as he approaches you, glancing at the car and then to you curiously.

“My phone died,” he replies sheepishly, a bit of light returning to his eyes as he comes closer to you. Warmth starts to spread through your chest when you see how the corners of his lips twitch up, fingers absently thrumming against his books. “Where are we going?” 

“You’re getting changed,” you reply, nodding to the suit hanging in the passenger seat of he car, “and then-”

“Yo, Dazai-kun!”

Your eye twitches at the interruption, gaze twisting to the side to fall on one of the boys from that group you’d been dreading walking over before Dazai arrived. You notice him stiffen, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face when he hears his name being called. So, you sigh, motion for him to go into the car and grab the suit as you turn your attention to the group of approaching college students.

“We’re busy,” you say with a tight smile, tone short and perfunctory but trying to be polite. 

Your eyes sweep over the one who spoke up—he’s dressed nice, slacks and a button up, tailored neatly to his body, but there’s something so distasteful about him that you can’t help the way your lip curls up in disgust. Maybe it’s because of the way Dazai looks so uncomfortable.

The man looks entirely unperturbed by your blatant dismissal, giving you a charming smile. “I’m Yoshimura Hiro—me and Daz-”

Irritated, you glance one last time at Dazai, seeing that he got the suit out of the car and shut the door. You lock the car and without another word, press your hand against Dazai’s lower back to urge him forward, walking away from the small group without another word.

Dazai can hardly muffle the snort that escapes his lips as soon as the two of you make it into the building. His eyes have regained that brightness that they’d lost when his classmates approached you, a smile curving at his lips.

“That was so rude,” he says with a grin.

“We have a reservation to make,” you tell him dryly. “I said we were busy.”

“Still, you didn’t even wait for him to finish introducing himself.”

“Would you have preferred I had?” you ask, glancing at him as he unlocks his apartment, watching as his smile falters as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Dazai shrugs but he seems a bit more awkward now as you step into his apartment. He tosses his books onto the coffee table and shrugs his backpack off onto the couch. You lean against the wall as you wait for him to respond, noting that his apartment is much cleaner than the last time you were here.

“They don’t like me,” he corrects absently, fiddling with a mug on his coffee table before bringing it over to the kitchen. “Most people don’t.”

There’s a silent question lingering at the end of the sentence—you know it, even if you couldn’t tell from the way the words hang, you can see it in the way his eyes draw over to you. Maybe he wants reassurance of some kind that you do like him, that you’re not just doing this because of the blackmail, but the words die on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you say, “Go get changed. We’re running late already.”

Dazai looks disappointed by your words—you can see it in the way his shoulders slump and his lashes lower, the corner of his lips tightening—but he lets out a dramatic sigh, muttering something under his breath before going into his bathroom to change.

Luckily, it only takes him a few minutes to get changed into the suit. He comes out as he’s still buttoning up the waistcoat—jacket slung over his shoulder. Your eyes drop down to his slim waist, eyes lingering at how neatly the vest clings to it.

Kido really did a good job, you think, having to drag your eyes back up to his face as he finally shrugs the jacket on and looks back up at you.

“You look nice,” you compliment, watching as his cheeks flush just a shade darker. “I didn’t have time to change after my meeting. If I’d known you were going to be ten minutes late, I would’ve.” 

Dazai promptly scowls at you. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last second to tell me. What if I already had plans?” he complains, but then adds, “… I think you look beautiful.”

“I wear this outfit everyday,” you dismiss, ignoring the way your chest flutters.

“I know,” he admits quietly. “You look beautiful everyday.”

Oh.

“We should go!” Dazai says suddenly, a bit too loudly to be casual. “We’re running late, aren’t we?” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say. “Come on, let’s go.” 

The walk back to your car is quiet—the students you’d left there are gone, thank god. You can feel Dazai looking at you every few seconds as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. You have half a mind to just tell him to spit it out but you still find yourself a bit flustered so you just let it be until you’re in the car.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dazai finally asks as you pull out of the complex, twisting in the passenger seat to look at you. His eyes look almost golden beneath the rays of the sun, soft and excited, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers before you force yourself to focus on the road.

“You said you wanted to go to that restaurant by your campus, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side to raise your eyebrows before looking forward again. “Taking you there.”

“The rooftop restaurant looking over the park?” Dazai splutters, eyes widening. “You remembered that? It’s so expensive, I-”

You don’t even acknowledge the last thing he was saying. Instead, you give him a squinty look before asking, “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Dazai’s lips part as he stares at you like he’s trying to say something but can’t bring himself to. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, it makes your heart twist in on itself. It’s too intense, too close to lo-

You don’t even let yourself finish that sentence, focusing back on the road as you change the subject. “They import crabs from the Beagle Channel in southern Argentina—best quality in the world, much better than that canned shit you eat every day.”

“What do you have against canned crab?” Dazai complains, leaning his head against the window. “You hate me. How did you even get a reservation at this place? They’re booked out like ten months in advance, we talked three days ago.”

You give Dazai a heavy side eye that he understands instantly from how he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” you ask, giving him a pointed smile.

“Nothing,” he scowls.

You smile to yourself, focusing on driving again. The restaurant isn’t far from his complex so you get there pretty quickly. Dazai is quiet for most of the rest of the ride aside from the occasional comment about his classes. He bitches about his engineering class and all of the irritating freshman boys that he’s taking it with because it’s a 101 class, tells you vaguely about how he’s on a roll for one of his projects for his poetry workshop, explains the plot of the book he’s reading for his creative writing class, and he notably does not mention anything about his journalism class—you don’t know if it’s because he’s too awkward to bring it up or what, but you’re grateful for it because the last thing you want to do is think about him working with Ui Koutarou to expose you as a mafia executive. You still don’t even entirely believe this isn’t some whole big scheme they concocted together.

You let the car roll to a stop in front of the tower the restaurant is in, leaving it running as you put it in park and nod for Dazai to get out. You get out yourself, grabbing the keys and tossing them over to the valet with a quick thanks before leading Dazai into the building.

He looks almost wonderstruck as he steps into the tower, brown eyes wide and glittering as he looks at all of the expensive decor in the lobby of the tower. You have to physically guide him forward, arm slipping around his waist to get him moving in the direction of the elevator, but as soon as you come in contact with him, he goes rigid. Your brows furrow, about to pull your arm back but before you can, he presses his palm against the back of your hand, holding your arm in place for a quick second. You can’t help the smile that twitches to your lips when his arm drops back to his side and you catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks as he pointedly looks away.

You lead him into the elevator, catching the pout that pushes at his lips when your arm leaves his waist and you’re going to tease him for it but then you catch the oddly intense look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, throat bobbing as if considering what to say. “It’s just… no one has ever done this for me before.”

“It’s just dinner, Dazai,” you tell him, voice quiet as you look away, missing the way his expression drops at your words.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though he sounds strained now so you give him a concerned look that he tries to play off with a smile that’s too frayed at the edges for comfort. You’re about to call him out on it but you don’t get the chance because the elevator doors slide open to the restaurant on the top floor before you can.

A familiar face stands on the other side of the elevator, delighted at the sight of you. “Hime,” the owner of the restaurant greets as you step out of the elevator with Dazai, reaching out to clasp one of your hands with both of his. “I almost didn’t believe it when they said you called to see if we could get you a table tonight. It’s been so long.”

“Ah, Yoshida-san, you’ll have to forgive me,” you say with an easy smile. “You know how busy work can get.”

“Of course, of course,” Yoshida replies, glancing at Dazai and inclining his head to him. “This must be your date. Come, I’ll seat the two of you.”

Dazai looks a bit out of his depth, the smile on his face strained and an unsure look in his eyes so you reach out to hook your arm into his, leading him through the restaurant as you make idle talk with Yoshida. You’re pleased when he brings you to a table near the window with a view over the whole park and the distant bay. 

Yoshida bows his head down to the two of you and lets you get settled, you take a seat but then give Dazai an odd look when he just stands there with a contemplative expression. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he suddenly moves to grab the chair opposite you.

He drags the chair from his side of the table all the way to yours. The legs scrape the floor so loudly that it draws the attention of all of the other patrons of the restaurant. You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief, but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return. He’s entirely unperturbed, plopping the chair down right next to yours and taking a seat in it. He rests his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand and watching you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you tell him but there’s no heat to your words as the corners of your lips tug up.

“You love me anyway,” Dazai coos, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before settling back on your eyes.

When a soft, pleased smile spreads across Dazai’s face as he leans in to nudge his shoulder against yours, you have to actively remind yourself that you’re only doing this because of the blackmail. 

Dazai is already lounging on your couch when you get up to your apartment. You don’t seem to notice him—you’re clearly unhappy about something, lips twisted down and brows furrowed as you talk to someone on your phone. It’s not until Dazai peeks his head up above the back of the couch to look at you do you finally catch sight of the movement, eyes flickering to the side to focus on him.

“Thanks, Tolstoy, I’ll let you know if I need him. I appreciate it,” you say before letting the phone drop from your ear and ending the call. 

For a horrifying second, your expression doesn’t change and all of those insecurities that he can’t push away—that you really are only doing this because of the video, that he’s forcing himself on you instead of giving you an excuse to actually be with him that goes above the fears that are haunting you. But then, you sigh and your shoulders slump. You toss your jacket onto the other couch before sitting with him on the one he’s sitting on, knees knocking against his.

“Hi,” Dazai says with a small smile, itching to shift closer to you but hardly refraining. “You’re late today.”

“You’re early,” you reply dryly but there’s a fond curl to the corners of your lips that makes Dazai feel nice and warm. “You know, I think you’ve been at my apartment more than yours the past week.”

Dazai’s smile becomes simpering. “Why would I stay in my small, dirty apartment when I could stay in your nice one?” he asks, watching as you roll yours. “Anyway, you love it when I’m here. Your apartment would be so lonely and boring without me.”

“It would be something alright,” you agree half-heartedly, leaning your head against the back of the couch and letting your eyes slide shut.

Dazai’s smile falters as soon as your gaze leaves him, an uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling spreading through his chest. Is he being too much? He has been spending a lot of time at your apartment but it’s because whenever he’s alone, his own thoughts threaten to consume him. They whisper too loudly about how you’d never be doing this without the blackmail, about how he’s so desperate to not be alone that he’d stoop to forcing you to hang out with him. They’re quieter when he’s here, even when you’re not, so he’s been spending as much time as possible in your apartment, doing his schoolwork and watching TV while he waits for you to come back.

“Long day?” Dazai finally asks to draw himself out of his own thoughts, watching as you look back over at him.

“Mhm,” you agree, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Lots of meetings. All with people I don’t like.”

You’ve become a bit more open over the past week—you still don’t tell him anything of importance, of course, but you’re at least not avoiding just about every topic that edges somewhat close to your ‘business’. He still feels like he doesn’t know you as well as he should and he hasn’t tried to push that anymore since the night you showed up at his apartment. He wants to try to push again but he’s just worried that he’s going to take it too far and he’ll mess it up.

He supposes he should at least try to feel it out though.

“Can I ask something?” he asks after a moment, almost wincing when you immediately cast him a suspicious look.

“The last time you asked me that, you were trying to figure out if I was in the Mafia,” you say doubtfully and Dazai’s throat goes dry as you lean back against the arm of the couch and extend your legs outward onto his lap. Hesitantly, he drops his hand onto your ankle, grip becoming more firm when you don’t instantly pull away.

“Well, we’ve already figured that out,” Dazai says with a sweet smile but then lets the smile drop as he adds more seriously, “I just want to get to know you better.”

You sigh, watching him carefully for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead,” you say. “Ask.”

“What’s your ability?”

Instantly, you sigh and look away. Dazai’s heart drops and his lips part to say something else but he doesn’t know what.

“I can’t, Dazai,” you finally tell him and Dazai tries not to be disappointed but he can’t help the way his lashes lower. “It’s not-you shouldn’t even know I have an ability. Only a handful of people know. It’s literally the most confidential secret in the-I can’t.”

“But I already know you have one,” Dazai presses, his tone coming across as far too close to a whine considering the look you give him. “What’s the harm in telling me what it is?” 

“Dazai,” you say, voice becoming more edged. “You don’t understand what people would do to get intel on my ability—I’m not going to-”

“I just want to know you,” Dazai interrupts, words drawn out and throat tight. “I just-I want to know you.”

You stare at him for a moment and Dazai’s grip on your ankle tightens, expression dropping. Just as he’s about to drawback and give up, you sigh and look away from him.

“I can mess around with people’s minds,” you finally tell him, voice quiet. Dazai’s eyes widen, head snapping toward you as he waits for you to continue. “I can… induce different types of mental and physical states in the brain and mind.”

“Like… Emma Frost?” Dazai asks, squinting. You give him an odd look so he amends, “Like mind control?” 

“No,” you answer. “I can’t… control minds. I can like… induce short term changes in emotions and sensations. I’m not directly manipulating them but putting them into a state and letting them work with it. They can either snap themselves out of it or make it stronger.”

“... I see,” Dazai says slowly. “So, you can make someone happy but if something makes them sad after, it’ll snap them out of it?”

“Pretty much,” you hum but there’s a weird look on your face that tells Dazai that maybe you’re not saying everything. “Some emotions are easier than others. Happiness is more… fragile, harder to sustain in a target. Fear is much more… a lot like a parasite—once you put it in someone’s head, almost everyone will start to spiral. It’s much harder to break out of.”

“The mindkiller,” Dazai notes, quoting one of his favorite books, a bit of morbid curiosity spiking, wanting to know how he would fare.

You give him an amused look. “Now, you’re quoting Dune? Quite the broad taste in media.”

“You’ve read Dune, too?” Dazai gapes. “You must be my soulmate.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Ridiculously cute,” Dazai counters immediately, smile twitching at his lips when he sees the fond expression on your face.

Then, naturally, he makes a mistake. 

“Can you use it on me?” Dazai asks, leaning forward a bit. When you give him a sharp, alarmed look, he quickly fumbles out, “Not like anything big. I just want to see what it’s like. Just something sma-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” you say loudly, making Dazai draw back, hand falling from your ankle to rest on the couch next to him. You pull your legs off of his lap and sit up straight, turning your body away from him. “Just no, Dazai. Don’t ask me that again.”

“I didn’t mean-” Dazai starts to apologize but he’s flustered, not having expected a response like that from you. He fucked up. Again. Just as he was making progress. Again. “I don’t-”

“I can’t turn off my ability,” you tell him quietly after a moment. “It’s… always going to some extent. Making people around me more at ease so they feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t like using it to its full extent if I don’t have to, not on people I consider friends at least. I never know if people… I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.”

Oh.

Dazai shifts closer to you, there’s an unreadable expression on your face as you stare ahead. He hesitates for a second before reaching out and grabbing your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I want you for you,” Dazai stresses. When you start to shake your head and look away, he repeats, “I do. I-”

“You wouldn’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice tight. “That’s the issue, you wouldn’t know.”

“I would know,” Dazai tells you, squeezing your hand. “I would know, I want you. I do.”

You don’t respond to him this time, staring ahead and Dazai doesn’t know what to do because you look sad. You look lost in your own thoughts, consumed by whatever is running through your head. It’s familiar—the same way he probably looks whenever he lets the parasites in his brain start eating away, sending him down a dangerous spiral.

He wants to draw you out of it. 

More than that, he wants to kiss you again. Desperately. 

He’s yearned for it since that night in his apartment, spent long nights alone and aching for your company when he thought you were abroad. For days, he could feel his lips tingling with the ghost of yours still brushing against them, could feel the weight of your body on his hips, grounding him when he thought he would finally be consumed by the emptiness that perpetually plagues him. He thinks maybe he can draw you out in the same way you always do for him. 

He wants to kiss you, and he’s about to lean in to do just that, breath catching in the back of his throat as his body becomes prickly with nerves.

You turn your head away before he can, rising to your feet and making your way to your bedroom, leaving him damningly alone in the living room of your apartment. 

He lets out a shaky breath, staring down at his lap, a cold and unsure feeling taking root in his chest.

Dazai has become a constant presence in your life. 

At first, it caused you nothing but stress—you constantly feared that him showing up to your apartment would lead to unwelcome eyes learning of his existence but he’s been very careful entering and leaving the building, and Klaus has been on top of the cameras. You think it’s been around a week and a half, maybe two weeks since Dazai first confronted you about everything and in that week and a half (maybe two weeks), you don’t think a single day has gone by without you coming home to find Dazai curled up on your couch or hunched over your kitchen table.

Today is no different.

Your head is pounding when you make it up to your apartment, you’d spent two hours arguing with Chuuya over how to approach the issue with Shimazaki-kai. The Sun and Steel are struggling against them in Tokyo and Mishima Michiko had come to Yokohama personally to request assistance from the Port Mafia in routing them from Shibuya-ku. You don’t want to send Chuuya there—it’s only a matter of time before the Guild shows up in Yokohama to try to take the weretiger and you’ll need Chuuya here when they do. You can’t risk sending him off now.

But Chuuya wants to go there now—says that it’s a bad look that the Port Mafia started this conflict and is now leaving the Sun and Steel to suffer the consequences. And he’s right, but the Guild is more pressing than the Shimazaki-kai.

 It’s not often that the two of you disagree on tactical decisions, but when you do, the disagreements are stressful and explosive. Both of you are bullheaded and both of you are convinced that your decision is the correct one—and Lippmann wasn’t here to force you guys to settle down so it just became more and more heated until you finally stormed off.

You pause when you enter your apartment and hear a choppy tune being played on the piano in your living room—something you vaguely recognize as the beginning of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude even with the many mistakes being made. Your stress and frustration slips away as you catch sight of Dazai sitting at the piano bench, so focused on the sheet music in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your arrival.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you quietly make your way over to him, watching as he pauses in the song and sighs, clearly frustrated by his mistakes. You take the opportunity to slide your hand across his shoulder blades; he jumps beneath your touch, eyes widening as he twists his neck to look up at you, cheeks flushing. 

“I didn’t know you played,” you say absently. “If you want, I can have the spare room on this floor made into a music room for you.”

You don’t know why you offer it, but you enjoy the look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you: big and imploring, full of emotion. It’s a welcome change from the livid expression Chuuya had been casting your way for the past few hours.

“I don’t really,” Dazai says awkwardly. “I was just trying it out.”

“Well, do you like it?” you ask him, taking a seat on the bench next to him, fingers lingering on his lower back.

“I think so,” he tells you after a few moments, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the keys and then back up at you. “I think my mother used to play… I don’t really remember her, but I can vaguely remember a song she used to play.”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he averts his gaze and you squeeze his side gently before saying, “Maybe the more you play, the more it’ll come back to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees half-heartedly, looking at you again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?” 

You pause, not having expected him to catch onto your bad mood so quickly when you were doing your best to hide it, but you finally sigh and shake your head.

“Yeah,” you tell him, motioning for him to get up so the two of you can move over to the much more comfortable couch. “Stressful day. I thought you had class on Wednesdays.”

“It was online today,” Dazai says, propping his arms up on the back of the couch as he sits up. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until super late tonight.”

You scoff. “Yeah, until I got into a fight with Chuuya,” you mutter, making your way over to him to sit on the couch with him, looking at the puzzle he has spread out on your coffee table. “Where’d you get this?” 

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “You left your computer open yesterday, I ordered some things.”

Dazai inches closer to you, there’s an indecipherable expression on his face, lips parted and eyes a bit wide. You can feel his knee nudging yours and you know what he wants. He’s been trying to make subtle moves on you for days but you just… You don’t know. You’re scared.

You’re scared.

You don’t think you’ve felt this way since you were a kid, trapped in that room in the military base on Tokoyami Island desperately trying to understand what your ability was so you wouldn’t be thrown back out into a warzone. Except now, it’s not just your fate on the line—every decision you make, Dazai’s life hinges on it and you’ve been making stupid ones for weeks. Even now, letting him stay at your apartment… Even if you do own all of the cameras, even if Klaus is on top of it, even if Dazai is being careful, it’s only a matter of time before a mistake is made.

You don’t know what you’re still holding out for. Maybe a chance to make him understand what exactly is at stake, break things off with you on his own… Maybe you’re waiting for something else. Your conversation with Tolstoy echoes through your head, his offer of sending Ilya Repin to you for you to utilize as you please.

Ilya Repin. A Crucession in Oakwood. 

Someone who can wipe Dazai’s memories of you so you can send him back off to live a normal life, make him forget he ever met you. It’s not something you want to do, fiddling with people’s minds… you know better than anyone that it’s not something to take lightly. But would it be worth it to ensure he lives? That he doesn’t get drawn any further into your shitshow life? The thought makes your chest ache painfully but if it means he would be safe.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away, and you can feel the disappointment emanating off of him, you can feel his fingers brushing your arm, but before you can say anything to him, you hear your elevator bing.

Someone arriving at your floor.

Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet, you cast Dazai a panicked look. He follows after you, unsure of what he should do. Klaus is across the city—he’s the only one that can come up to your apartment without permission besides-

Besides Chuuya.

Oh shit.

“Go to the kitchen,” you say, voice tight and stressed, you push Dazai forward to get him moving. You cannot let Chuuya know that Dazai is here. “Get to the-”

“Yo.” You hear Chuuya say, voice low and distracted as he steps into your apartment. He’s looking down at a bottle of wine, so you wave your hand at Dazai frantically, shooing him into the kitchen. He shoots you a panicked look before rushing into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to let shit get so heated before.”

“You’re good,” you tell him, careful to keep the strain from your voice as Chuuya finally looks up from the bottle and makes his way over to you. “Takes two, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at you.”

“Nah.” Chuuya shakes his head, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been going through shit. The Boss constantly on your ass, having to drop that kid you liked-” shit “-I should’ve let it go instead of pressing. Brought you this.”

Oh, you’re in a bad spot. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you race to figure out what to do. You have to get Chuuya out of your apartment, but the man knows you so well that it’ll be impossible to do that without raising suspicion. If this were any other day and Dazai Osamu wasn’t hiding in your kitchen, you would be trying to worm more than just a bottle of wine out of Chuuya—probably dinner and a night out to go along with it—but he’ll want to crack open the bottle before going out and your wine glasses are in your kitchen.

Shit.

“An ‘82 Rothschild,” you drawl. “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

Chuuya gives you a smile that makes you feel guilty. “‘Cause I feel like shit,” he mutters and you hardly refrain from wincing because you know he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.

You think you might be the worst person alive. 

“How about we put it in the wine fridge and head out for the night?” you hum, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t you want to try that new bar by the ports in Naka? The one Lippmann went to with his coworkers? We’ll save the wine for us to celebrate after we wipe out the Shimazaki-kai.” 

A good move. You almost pat yourself on the back for it—Chuuya’s been talking about this bar for weeks, but hasn’t gotten a break from work to actually go check it out. He was livid the other day when he found out Albatross and Iceman went without him. Plus, you implied that you’d give in a little on the argument you were having with him earlier; maybe you won’t send him to Tokyo to help the Sun and Steel but you could probably send Klaus or Akutagawa to ease Chuuya’s stress over the situation.

Please, please, please, please-

“Nah,” Chuuya says, shaking his head. “Maybe another night. I’ll go grab some glasses, find a movie?” 

Oh, fuck me.

“I’ll get them,” you say instead, too quickly from the way Chuuya is instantly casting a suspicious look in your direction so you pivot with: “I picked the last movie. It’s your turn.”

“You hate when I pick movies,” Chuuya says with a frown, studying you carefully before letting his eyes trail over to the kitchen. He’s thinking too hard, you realize, stressed, you need to make him stop before he figures out you don’t want him to go in there because once he realizes that, there’s no shot he won’t be rushing over there. “What’s really going on?” 

“Nothing,” you say easily. “I’m in the mood to trash one of your low budget horror movies.”

Chuuya instantly gives you an offended look and you think, for a moment, that you’ve succeeded. “Well, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch halfway through the movie, so pick a damn movie.”

Chuuya rises to his feet, putting the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and you want to rip your hair out—why is he so fucking stubborn? You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him, teeth grinding together, and when Chuuya looks back at you, you know that he knows.

“What’s in the kitchen?” Chuuya asks, voice low.

“None of your business,” you reply, jaw tight. “Sit down and let me get the glasses.”’

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Chuuya snaps and rips his wrist from your grasp and storms over to the kitchen. 

You race behind him, only able to watch as everything starts to crumble. You try to grab his wrist again but he slips out from your hold. For a scary second, you genuinely debate using your ability on him just to convince him to stop, to make him leave, but you disregard the thought as soon as it passes through your head, horrified with yourself.

“Chuuya, stop,” you say desperately, a last ditch attempt to make him stop, hoping that maybe when he hears how serious you are about this that he might reconsider, but it’s Chuuya, so of course he doesn’t.

You know it’s over when he freezes in the doorframe of your kitchen, staring into the room like he’s seen a ghost. Dreadfully, you come to stand at his side, looking over his shoulder to see what exactly he’s looking at, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Dazai sits on the floor, half hiding behind your counter but unable to fully because of his height; his legs are too long to fit behind the counter and his head is peeking above the marble, brown eyes wide as he looks between the two of you. He focuses his attention on Chuuya, who stares at him mutely in disbelief.

Dazai finally says, “Your hat is tackier in person.”

Oh my god.

Chuuya doesn’t even react to the snide comment which you think is testimony to how angry he really is. He drags his gaze from Dazai over to you and you can see the rage swimming in his eyes. You don’t know how to approach this—Chuuya is always unpredictable when he’s angry—so you think maybe you should wait for him to say something first, but that’s also risky because once he’s set off, he’s set off. 

“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice low. “I was sitting here feeling guilty and-”

“I didn’t lie to you,” you interrupt, shaking your head, but that only pisses Chuuya off more from the way he shoots a pointed look at Dazai. “I didn’t. I did cut him off, Chuuya. I-”

“He’s sitting on your kitchen floor,” Chuuya’s spits, voice raising as he works himself up. “You let me sit here feeling guilty about this when-”

Chuuya suddenly cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares at you, and a pit forms in your stomach, realizing he must have just come to another conclusion. Distress begins to pile in your chest because you can’t figure out what to do, frustration because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You want to look over to Dazai but you know it will only serve to piss Chuuya off even more.

“‘Is that what she told you?’” Chuuya whispers Mori’s words from a few weeks ago. “Don’t even tell me that the war with the Inagawa-kai began because of him. You told me they attacked you.”

You grimace, turning your face away and Chuuya lets out a high and reedy laugh, eyes wild with disbelief. You can feel Dazai’s curious eyes on you and you just want to curl in on yourself.

“We went to war with two Yakuza syndicates because of him-”

“We went to war because of what happened with your-” you begin to say, angry at the hypocrisy.

“And she died anyway,” Chuuya shouts, a familiar, eerie red glow beginning to emanate from his hands as he starts to lose control of his ability in his anger. “You couldn’t save her then, what makes you think you can save him now?”

You draw back as if you’d been slapped—you think you might’ve been better off getting slapped than hearing Chuuya say that. You stare at him blankly, watching as he looks over at Dazai, but you can’t bring yourself to follow his gaze.

“It would be more merciful if I just killed him now,” Chuuya says coolly. “Spare him from-”

You only move when he takes a step forward, grabbing his wrist and pressing your forearm hard against his upper chest to shove him into your fridge. Chuuya doesn’t expect you to get physical so his eyes widen as his back hits the fridge, gaze darting back to focus on you. The familiar feeling of the Tainted Sorrow sweeps over your body, coating you in that destructive red glow. 

For a moment, neither of you move.

“We both know you won’t use your ability on me,” you finally say, keeping your voice low. “I’ll fuck up your brain so badly that you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for weeks if you take another step toward him.”

Chuuya doesn’t budge for a second, the tension in the room rising with each passing second. After a few minutes, he finally turns off his ability, taking in a deep breath as he shakes his head and looks away. You step back and Chuuya sighs as he leans against the fridge, forcing himself to look back at you.

“I did cut him off after we talked… ish,” you tell him and Chuuya gives you a flat look. “I did. I ran into him at the ports. One of the kyodai of the Inagawa-kai showed up, saw me with him. Klaus killed him. We had to act before they found out we drew first blood.”

“Oh my god,” Chuuya complains, pressing his hands to his eyes. “You-I had to use Corruption. The entire northern ward-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say tightly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I-”

You let out a breath, glancing once at Dazai who’s watching you with an indecipherable expression and then ask Chuuya, “Can we go into the other room?”

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, an offended expression on his face, but you ignore him. “You’re talking about me-” he starts to protest but Chuuya gives him a sharp look that makes Dazai blanch even more, looking to you for support but you look away, missing the way his expression crumbles.

As soon as the two of you are in the other room, Chuuya gives you a hard look, waiting for you to continue.

“I cut him off after what happened at the port and I ran into him again at the event a few weeks ago,” you say quietly. “His professor for one of his classes is a journalist working for the Ivory Eagle, he has three kids—including Dazai—doing his dirty work trying to find proof of the Mori Corporation being a front for the Port Mafia.”

Chuuya stares at you. “What?” he asks blankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimace. “Dazai found the proof. He has a video of us from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

“You’re letting yourself be blackmailed by a college student?” Chuuya demands loudly. You give him a sharp look, but it’s too late, Dazai is already looking into the room with an indecipherable expression on his face, lashes lowering as his gaze falls to the ground. “You’re a fucking mafia executive, are you fucking with me right now?” 

Your eye twitches in frustration, casting one last look in Dazai’s direction, watching the way his brows furrow as he thinks up a storm in that head of his—nothing good, you’re sure, but you can’t do anything about it right now.

“I’m not going to kill him, Chuuya,” you hiss under your breath. “Would you have killed her if she found out?”

Chuuya lets out a heavy breath and looks away, not answering your question but that’s an answer in itself.

“Look,” you continue, glancing at where Dazai had been standing only to realize that he’d walked away. You sigh and lower your voice. “I’m working on something. I just… I need time to figure out how to go about it. I don’t want him in this life either, Chuuya. I’m not that selfish.”

Yes, you are, a distant part of you whispers. Otherwise, you would have handled this as soon as he came to your apartment that first day.

Chuuya shakes his head. “You need to be careful. You have him in our headquarters, in your apartment. Do you know how thin of a line you’re treading? The slightest slip up-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say, strained. “I know.”

“Figure it out quickly,” Chuuya murmurs. “I’ll do what I can in the meantime to keep the heat off of you. Just… quit fucking around.”

Chuuya gives you a steady look and you know that he knows that you’re using this as an excuse to indulge in Dazai when you shouldn’t be. You can hardly hold his gaze, lashes fluttering as you look down. He reaches out to squeeze your forearm and you turn your head away, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re going to say to Dazai.

“Yeah, I will.”

Dazai pretends like everything is fine.

He’s still sitting cross-legged on your bed when you finally come looking for him, hands in his lap and back straight. You lean against the doorframe, an uncharacteristically soft expression on your face as you look at him—Dazai hates it, because he knows that he’s not going to like whatever you’re about to bring up to him so he decides he needs to evade the conversation in whatever manner possible.

“Did that pipsqueak leave?” Dazai huffs, only finding a bit of consolation in the way your lips curl up into a smile at his insult.

“He did,” you agree, pushing off the doorframe to make your way over to him. Dazai swallows thickly when you take a seat in front of him on the bed. You lean back on your hands, head falling to the side as you observe him. “I didn’t think he was coming over today. We’d just gotten into an argument so things were already tense. I’m sorry that it blew up on you like that.”

Dazai doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead, he smiles and says, “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie?” 

Your brow furrows at the way he dismisses your comment—god, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows where it’s going to lead, he knows you’re only doing this because of the blackmail and he knew from day one that it wasn’t going to work forever but he’d hoped maybe he’d be able to woo you before then, make you want him for him, want him enough to decide he’s worth the risk. He should’ve known better—he really should have—but he’s not ready to let go just yet.

So, before you can bring it back up again, Dazai forces the smile on his face to come across a little more genuine as he tilts his head and hums, “I found a good horror movie. I’m stealing your pillow to hide behind while we watch.”

Please.

He knows you can see through the sweet smile and honeyed words but he begs you to just pretend you don’t one last time. After what feels like an eternity, you finally sigh, gaze dropping to your lap for a second before you look back up at him and say, “You’re not taking my pillow.”

Dazai doesn’t have to force a smile now, lighting up as he waves your pillow in the air and sings, “Too late!” before darting off the bed and into the other room.

“Dazai!” you call after him loudly and he tosses a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the other room. He can hear you chasing after him and though his chest does feel a bit lighter, he can’t push away the cold, empty feeling that’s slowly starting to consume him.

[miumura]

━━━ NERD JAKE . . .

| nerd!jake headcanons >< |

pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff

warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )

💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3

NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.

NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.

NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.

NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.

NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.

NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.

NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.

NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.

NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.

NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.

NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.

NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.

NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.

NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.

NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.

NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.

NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.

NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.

NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.

NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.

NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.

NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.

NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.

NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.

NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.

NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.

NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.

NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.

NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.

💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀

enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 9

WC: 1088, Masterpost

Cass hummed happily. Moving their new brother to the better safe house had gone so well that Cass was finally getting to meet him— to meet Danny! His name was Danny. Cass rolled the name around on her tongue, silently trying out out.

It was a good word day, a good day in so many ways, but Cass knew that the excitement of it all could make her tongue trip up. She wanted to get Danny’s name right this first time. Cass knew how much names mattered and she wanted to do the best by her new brother. Danny deserved the best, after everything he had been through.

Her arms were full of things that would hopefully help Danny continue to improve: soft clothing, a weighted blanket, a heat pack stuffed animal, and fresh groceries. Jason met her outside the elevator to help carry it all.

“Hey, Cass,” he said. His exhaustion pulled at his words.

He never tried to hide how tired he was from her, not like he did around the others. Cass knew it was because he knew that she would see past it, but it still felt nice to be the sibling that Jason didn’t mask around. (Dick still thought that he could get away with it.)

“Hello, Jason,” she said and took the opportunity to brush a kiss against his cheek when he leaned in to take the groceries from her.

It made his smile a little softer. “Thanks for bringing this stuff.”

“Of course,” Cass chirped. “Rules?”

“More guidelines,” Jason said. “No sudden or big movements, no loud noises. Metal sounds seem to set him off sometimes, so be careful in the kitchen. Oh, and stay where he can see you, at least at first. We figure we’ll have you over maybe one more time and then put you on rotation with us watching over him.”

“Yes, happy to help,” Cass agreed. She could follow those rules easily, even if they were more guidelines. “You need more rest.”

Jason chuckled dryly. “Yeah I do. That’s part of getting you and then Babs introduced. We’re still keeping someone awake in case he has a night terror or something.”

Cass hummed. Those were never any fun. “Hot chocolate?”

“We’ve got some on the cabinet. I’ll be sure to show you where everything is,” Jason assured her.

“Good. New brother now, please,” Cass said. She rolled her eyes when Jason gave her a look. “Yes, yes. Danny once in the door, not new brother. I know the ‘guidelines’.”

“Brat,” Jason grumbled but in that way that meant ‘I love you’.

It made Cass smile happily as they entered the apartment. She slipped her shoes off inside the door. Like the others, she had dressed in athleisure wear and a domino. She hoped it put their new brother more at ease than her mask would have with the stitched mouth. With the wide eyed way that Danny was watching her with, anything that would help him feel more settled was good.

She gave a little wave and smile. “Hello, Danny. I am Black Bat.”

Danny’s eyes flickered between her and Jason before he pulled one hand away from the tangle of himself him and Dick made to wave at her. “Um, hi Black Bat.”

“I brought things,” she said as she slowly lowered the bags onto the kitchen bar.

Dick perked up. “Ooh, candy?”

“Of course candy.” Cass didn’t bother to hide how she rolled her eyes at that. “But also…”

She tried to keep the noise down as she searched for the right bag. Pulling out the stuffed animal, she spun back around to face Danny and Dick. “For Danny,” she said, the soft, blue, teddy bear held in front of her face.

“Me?”

Cass hummed in confirmation and crept closer to the couch. She crouched down before she was too close, and held out the teddy bear towards Danny. He clearly wanted to reach out, but he held back. He was worried; she understood.

She hate that she did, but she did. She new too well what it was like to have something nice turned into a punishment.

“No tricks,” she assured him. “No payment. No catch. Just because, for you.”

Danny studied her for a long moment before he finally, slowly reached out to touch the teddy bear. When she didn’t pull it back, he took it and buried his face into the fabric.

“It’s soft.”

Cass nodded. “Yes. And yours.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Cass assured him with a beaming smile. She backed up a little and sat on the floor.

“B.B. here might be looking after you with Hood and I,” Dick said as he let Danny settle back in against him. “But only if you’re alright with it. She’s the best though.”

“Favorite,” Cass said with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said from the open kitchen where he had finished putting away the food. He came up to stand behind her and she leaned back against her legs. “We all love you.”

“Yes.”

Jason snorted at her easily agreement. “Now Danny, do you want your big meal now or a snack now.”

“Do I have to?” Danny asked, softly, before snapping his mouth closed ducking back against Dick.

“Sorry Danny, but yeah,” Dick said. He brushed his fingers through Danny’s hair, but didn’t try to make him move. “Remember what you and Hood talked about this morning?”

The reply was whispered into the new blue bear. “That I have to try at last a few bites each time, even if I’m not hungry.”

“Exactly. But that sounds like to me like a snack might be best right now?” Dick waited for a nod. “Okay. And then a big meal later. Hey, maybe we can play a game to pass the time! It can be you and me against Hood and B.B.”

“Oh you’re going down,” Jason crowed, playing it up just enough to get Danny to peer out from behind the bear at them.

Dick gasped dramatically. “You would beat our dear,” a fraction of a pause where Cass knew Dick wanted to say brother, “esteemed guest? How could you?”

“Hey, alls fair in love and board games, you know that. But we’ll let you and Danny pick the game you want to lose at, won’t we B.B?”

“Only fair,” she agreed with an innocent smile. When Danny eyed her dubiously she couldn’t help but laugh. This new brother would be very fun to have around.

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AN: This part has needed the very ending for a good bit now and it finally got there! Cass is always so much fun to write, even if she takes me a little to get into the swing with. Danny seems a fan so far too! Now who might he meet next... ^_~

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