#and the guys in my head are like 'even if you sleep all day cause of the pain we still love you'

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & 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: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you. 

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then… 

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before. 

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him. 

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man? 

Who is that? 

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering? 

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia. 

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it? 

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. “Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know. 

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake. 

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust. 

A mistake. 

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake. 

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that. 

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake. 

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors. 

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless. 

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself. 

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki. 

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him. 

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye. 

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him. 

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him. 

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did. 

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently. 

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.” 

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?” 

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy. 

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him. 

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused. 

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth. 

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has. 

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could. 

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away. 

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached. 

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is. 

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum. 

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.” 

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before. 

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar��Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there’s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia. 

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born. 

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City. 

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go. 

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings. 

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly. 

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive. 

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in. 

Odasaku saved him. 

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed. 

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat. 

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it. 

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out. 

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he’s the reason you’re crying. 

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway. 

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building. 

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him. 

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports. 

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks. 

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place. 

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead. 

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger. 

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: jealousy, angst, pining

word count: 3.1k

tw: alcohol use, swearing

a/n: hii my lovely’s! i honestly dk how i feel about this chapter, but i hope u guys enjoy it regardless. also please ignore the shift from past to present tense 😭 i realized i fucked it up like mid way thru but oh well! the movies i mentioned are also so good GO WATCH EM. and if u cant tell i love blushing i find it so cutesy. ALSO ONE SHOT IDEAS PLEASEEEEE. anyway, enjoy and hope y’all have a good week!

CHAPTER THREE

paige has a problem. it wasn’t that her aim was off, causing her to miss shot after shot. it wasn’t that her coach was yelling at her to get her head in the game. no, it wasn’t any of that. it was the fact paige couldn’t stop thinking about the curly brunette, even if her life depended on it.

ever since practice a few days ago, when azzi’s body was flush against hers, azzi had owned paige’s mind. and since her head is elsewhere, she failed to focus on everything else, especially basketball.

“what’s wrong with you?” nika asks paige, confused as to why her game was off, which is extremely rare for her.

without basketball, paige had nothing. basketball gave paige life, ever since a young age. even after trying other sports, her heart was always set on basketball. so when paige’s game had been acting up, it made her teammates, as well as coaches, confused.

paige glances at nika, “what? nothing.”

nika gave paige a don’t bullshit me look, “paige, cmon. you’ve been missing shots all day. something’s gotta be up.”

paige didn’t, wouldn’t tell nika about paige’s tiny issue. “i don’t know. bad day, i guess.”

“well get your shit together. we need you for tomorrow’s game.”

paige looks over at azzi, who was on the opposite side of the gym with caroline, “don’t worry, i will.”

later that night, paige was already laying in bed when her phone buzzes. it was a text from aubrey, asking the team group chat if anyone wanted to hang.

dorka, paige’s roommate, was already quietly sleeping on the opposite side of the room. paige looks at the time, 9:41 pm; she figured hanging out with her friends wasn’t the worst idea.

paige soon arrives at aubrey’s dorm. she opens the door to find a variety of her teammates; nika was seated on aubrey’s bed along with aubrey, lou was on the floor, while azzi and caroline were on jana’s bed, who wasn’t present.

fuck. of course azzi would show up, despite it being late at night. it was as if azzi somehow knew paige had been thinking about her- appearing just to torment her.

the two met eyes, paige held eye contact a tad longer than she normally would. heat creeped up azzi’s neck.

since there wasn’t much room on either beds, paige slumps against the bed azzi was sitting on.

“so what were y’all doing before i came in?” paige questions her teammates.

“trying to decide on a movie, but nobody is agreeing,” nika replies, annoyance in her voice.

“i say we watch she’s the man, but everyone here doesn’t have good taste, so nobody agrees with me,” aubrey says, rolling her eyes.

paige turns her head up to azzi, “what was your suggestion?”

azzi was caught off guard by paige’s question, “uh, i said about time.”

“oh my god, i love that movie. i agree with azzi,” paige announces.

azzi was shocked, to say the least. she never imagined a world where paige would agree with her.

they settle on about time. nika grabbed a few snacks and passed them around, while lou brought a few drinks in from the tiny kitchen.

a couple minutes into the film, paige grew uncomfortable with her spot on the ground. azzi noticed it by the constant shifting she had been doing. azzi reaches down to tap paige’s shoulder.

“you can come up here if you’re uncomfortable,” azzi whispers so the others wouldn’t be disturbed, while softly patting the spot next to her on the bed.

paige notices that her and carol had already shifted down, making room for paige. her lips curled into a small smile.

without a second thought, paige lifts from the floor and gently sets herself next to azzi, thighs nearly touching.

“thanks,” paige whispers. azzi simply nodded her head.

throughout the movie, paige’s thigh would occasionally graze azzi’s, sending butterflies to her stomach. there was a spark between the two, surely azzi felt it too.

caroline passes a bag of popcorn over to azzi, who instantly begins consuming it.

“can i have some?” paige questions lightly so she didn’t cause distractions for the others.

“of course,” azzi smiles, placing the popcorn in the middle of them.

their hands would graze while both going for the popcorn, paige let her touch linger longer than she should. she knew better. but her secret azzi fudd obsession got the better of her.

“sorry,” paige mutters, pulling her hand away after embarrassment covered her features.

“i don’t mind,” azzi looks at paige, a soft expression on her face.

paige had always been beautiful to azzi, but in this lighting, in aubrey’s small dorm, sitting on the same bed, mere inches apart, paige looked unreal. her blonde hair was the perfect kind of messy, lips were light pink, eyes so blue that they were practically transparent. paige’s cheeks flush at azzi’s eyes solely focused on her.

“okay guys! i’m exhausted, i’ll see y’all tomorrow,” nika jumps up from her spot, causing heads to look over at her.

paige and azzi took their attention away from each other, despite it being the hardest thing paige had to do.

“yeah, i should go too,” azzi agrees, beginning to move off the bed.

“same,” paige says, also moving from her spot.

the three say their goodbyes before leaving out aubrey’s dorm door. during the short walk down the hallway, the girls discuss their excitement for the first game of the season. they came to the end of the hall, where they could go either left, right, or continue straight. nika headed straight, off to her room. paige was going left, while azzi was going right. but both didn’t make any hints to move yet.

paige leans against the wall, azzi mimics her by doing the same on the opposite wall. a small smile crept onto her lips.

“you ready for tomorrow’s game?” paige questions the younger girl.

“beyond ready,” azzi’s smile only grows. she’s been waiting for this moment since before she could remember; her very first game in college basketball.

“you better be. i’m definitely gonna need you,” paige says without thinking. her eyes widen at her use of i’m. “we, i mean.”

azzi’s cheeks redden at paige’s comment about her needing azzi. not the team- her, accident or not.

“are you ready? you seemed kinda distracted at practice,” azzi brings up.

“i’m fine,” paige says harsher than she meant.

not wanting to deal with paige’s attitude, azzi sighs, “alright. see you tomorrow.”

paige desperately wanted azzi to stay with her. she wanted to grab her by the hand and pull her close; but she knew she couldn’t do that.

“yeah, see ya.”

the next morning, paige immediately shuts down any azzi thoughts from the previous day. she needs to focus on the game. it was the first of the season, and she eagerly wanted to make it a good one.

she brushes her teeth, washes her face, dresses herself, as dorka did the same.

“ready for this, p?” dorka smiles, excitement buzzing off her tall frame.

“always,” she matches her smile.

the two girls grab their bags and head down to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. nika, aubrey, jana, lou, carol and azzi were already seated and eating away.

paige prepares her meal before taking the spot besides jana, directly across from none other than azzi. they quickly lock eyes before looking away equally as quickly.

the team discusses plays they wanted to run in the upcoming game, all participating and giving suggestions. they soon finish eating before heading down to the gym for some smaller workouts, to get somewhat warmed up.

paige was still struggling to make her shots that she’d normally be making. when azzi notices, she casually walks over.

“can i suggest something?” azzi asks.

paige looks over at her, “hm?”

azzi strolls closer to the older girl, close enough to where paige felt her breath on

the back of her neck.

“what are you doing?” paige asks, breathlessly.

azzi places her hand on paige’s, adjusting it to where she liked. she then moves her elbow, “fixing your form.”

once azzi was done, paige shoots the ball, and is surprised to see it actually go through the basket.

“thanks, i guess,” paige grins.

the two girls continue shooting, getting their reps in when the time came to begin actual warm ups.

the game was about to begin; paige, nika, aubrey, azzi and jana were the starting 5. azzi feels an intense amount of pressure to do well, since she’s the only freshmen starting tonight.

the five girls huddle together, wide grins on their smiles, beyond ready to get this season going. paige speaks words of encouragement to her teammates as they all get into position.

uconn was up by 31 points, azzi having 19 while paige has 21.

paige runs the ball up the court, eyeing each teammate of hers. she passes the ball over to nika, who throws it over to azzi. she effortlessly makes the open 3, causing loud roars from the uconn student section.

the team was on a 9-0 run in the third quarter when paige sprints near half court and collides with a member from the other team.

azzi watches it happen and rushes over a little too quickly, for someone who claimed to hate her. azzi appears in front of the older girl, who was lying on the floor face up, and gently places her hands on her knees.

“are you okay?” azzi asks, worry laced in her tone.

paige was silent for a moment, still dazed by the impact. but when she glanced up at the brunette, a sense of calm quickly washed over her.

“yeah,” she answers, grabbing azzi’s hands that were being held out to her.

their hands held onto one another’s a moment too long. their bodies were slightly touching; neither made any movements.

it wasn’t until coach auriemma yelled at them did either of the girls make a move. paige was substituted for ashlynn to rest, and eventually, azzi was also subbed out for caroline to give other players a chance to play, as they were dominating the opposing team.

azzi settles down next to paige, the only spot open on the bench. their thighs were full on touching since the seats were so tight.

azzi rests her elbows on her knees before turning to paige, “you sure you’re okay? that fall looked like it hurt.”

paige smiles at azzi’s worry, “why? do you care or something?” she teases.

azzi’s face lit up with red, “um, no. of course not.”

paige lets out a soft chuckle before playfully pushing the brunette’s face, who who responds with a wide grin, dimples and all.

paige matches her smile with one of her own. god. she was otherworldly.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” paige mumbles, barely audible for azzi to hear, while dropping her heads, wrapping her arms under.

“sorry, what’d you say?”

“nothing,” paige replies, definitely not repeating her words.

the game ends, the teams high five one another before heading to the locker rooms.

“guys, since we played so well today, we should definitely celebrate,” jana suggests.

“what are you thinking?” nika asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“ted’s, of course,” she laughs, “is everyone good with 7?”

each team member agree to meet at ted’s, the bar most uconn students attended, around 7. paige was buzzing at the idea of a dirty shirley temple, desperately needing one to get her mind off someone.

paige showered, applied light makeup, and picked out a comfortable but nice outfit.

around 6:55, paige leaves her apartment with dorka at her side, heading to ted’s.

the bar was absolutely packed with uconn students as well as the women’s basketball team. nika was talking to the bartender, aubrey was laughing at something jana said, while azzi was throwing back a shot.

the air seemed to shift when paige’s gaze lands on the young brunette. her heart instantly quickens as she took in her outfit. a light purple tank top that fit her in all the right places, paired with jean shorts that were doing wonders for her ass. her curls were down, slightly messy but in the most beautiful way possible.

making eye contact with paige causes azzi’s breath to hitch. heat floods her cheeks as she remembers the moments between them from earlier today.

stepping closer to the bar, paige lowers herself into an open seat, directly across from azzi who was completely surrounded by teammates. dorka took the spot next to her while lou made herself over to the two girls.

“dorka! p!” lou greets them, clearly already drunk.

“hey lou lou,” dorka smiles at her friend.

paige waves over the bartender, “can i please have a dirty shirley temple?”

the bartender nods, immediately reaching for a glass. paige was dying for a drink in her hand to take her mind off everything and everyone.

the shirley burns her throat as she took several gulps, downing nearly half the glass.

“calm down there, p,” dorka laughs at paige’s urgency to consume the drink as fast as possible.

“just thirsty,” paige replies.

after finishing her second shirley temple is when she noticed a tall man talking to azzi. her azzi. her fists clench at her sides as she throws a glare their way.

the man then lowers himself into the open seat next to her while casually shifting close, making their faces mere inches apart. azzi fidgets with her fingers, suddenly nervous from the attention.

paige presses her lips in a line to hold back her growing anger that was screaming to come out. all she wanted to do was walk over there and take what’s hers.

paige orders several more drinks, shots, whatever she could to hopefully get rid of the scene in front of her.

when a piece of azzi’s hair falls in front of her face, the man reaches out and brushes it behind her ear. his hand lingers for a moment too long, only causing paige to become more aggravated.

azzi laughs at something he said and paige decides she’s had enough. although she was completely aware she shouldn’t be doing this, she was supposed to hate azzi, she couldn’t help herself. she clutches her drink tightly in her grasp, a idea trickling in her head, and marches over there.

azzi almost instantly spots the blonde moving towards her at a rapid pace. her eyes widen when paige accidentally trips, spilling her drink all over the man.

satisfaction covered paige’s features, proud of her doing.

“jesus fucking christ!” he yelps, quickly jumping up from his position next to azzi.

“i am so sorry,” paige pretends to be genuine and concerned, even though herself and azzi knew it was complete bullshit.

the man grabs napkins, desperately trying to pat himself down, but ultimately failing. he walks away without as much as a glance back at the curly brunette, who continues to remain silent.

“did you seriously have to do that?” azzi questions paige, annoyance on her face.

“it was an accident, azzi,” paige sighs.

“sure it was,” azzi mutters as she grips her drink.

“it was,” paige replies defensively.

paige allows herself to sit where the man once was, feeling the air grow electric with the two being so close. azzi looks almost shaken by their close proximity, her eyes roaming paige’s body.

“paigey!” nika slurs, suddenly grabbing paige’s shoulders.

paige turns to her friend who was beaming, “what’s up nik?”

“oh my goodness, you totally missed it…” nika rants on and on about the hot bartender who was totally checking her out.

“i’ll be back,” nika grins as she jogs off to talk with the bartender once again.

“at least she’s getting some action,” azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“oh my god, i am so sorry i ruined the two minute conversation you had with some idiot. if you’re so interested in him, then be my guest; go find the fucker.”

“maybe i will,” azzi bites out, getting up from her spot and taking off towards the crowd.

it shocks paige that azzi actually went through with it- disappoints her, too. did she genuinely like the guy?

regretting her words, paige follows azzi’s trail, quickly catching up to the freshmen. she grabs her arm, making her twist around to face her.

“please, wait,” paige slurs in her drunken state.

“what do you want?” azzi questions, desperate to know paige’s intentions.

“you,” paige whispers, so quietly azzi can barely make it out.

“speak up, paige,” azzi replies, annoyed.

“please don’t go after him.”

azzi’s eyes crinkle, “and why not? you’re not my keeper.”

paige rests her hands on either one of azzi’s hips, uncontrollably pulling the younger girl closer.

“i know. i know,” she whispers, “just stay. stay here with me.”

azzi was taken aback from paige’s soft tone and sweet words. it was unlike paige to be like this to azzi, so azzi pieced together she must be drunk out of her mind.

“you’re drunk, paige,” azzi says.

“i’m sober enough,” paige’s lips turn up as she moves her hands to azzi’s face.

with her face in her hands, paige rests her forehead against the curly brunette’s, while her gaze drops down to her full, pink lips.

“what are you doing, paige?”

paige closes her eyes, not wanting to think about everything wrong with what she was doing and how it’d be like tomorrow.

“i don’t know. fuck, i don’t know. i just want to be close to you,” she whispers.

azzi gently places her hands on paige’s waist, pulling the older girl impossibly closer.

“fuck, az,” paige mutters, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

paige was all azzi could hear, despite the loud crowd and blasting music around her. and her words meant everything.

“no matter how hard i try, you’re always there. you with your perfect curls and cute ass dimples,” paige smiles, twisting with a singular curl with her finger.

“oh yeah?” azzi matches the grin.

“yeah,” paige says, gaze focused on her lips.

right as paige leans in, azzi suddenly jerks back, her eyes wide with panic.

“p- paige, no. you’re drunk. you’ll regret it tomorrow,” she stutters, frantically stepping out of paige’s touch.

paige reaches out for azzi’s frame, “no i won’t.”

practically tripping over herself, azzi rushes over to her previous seat with paige right on her heels. she grabs her belongings before giving a lone glance back at the blonde; she was breathing hard, hands slightly shaking, with a disappointed yet shameful expression on her face.

azzi turns away and is gone before paige had the time to blink.

“god fucking dammit,” paige mutters to herself, ashamed of her actions that caused azzi to run off.

paige finds an open spot at the bar and orders yet another round of shots, not caring about the concerned looks she was receiving from her teammates.

paige swallows shot after shot, trying to drown her sorrows and any lingering thoughts of azzi. of course she had to ruin whatever was happening between them. of course.

“paige, don’t you think that’s enough for tonight?” aubrey cautiously questions her friend.

paige drunkenly chuckles, “not even close,” throwing back another burning shot.

[gourde]

Oh yeah I pirated Inside Out 2 and it's a good movie. But also I'm a huge sap for the idea that there's little guys in your head who love you for who you are which makes me ummmmm super sobby which is kinda dumb but whatever. Like wow even after all the horrid shit I've done... there's some guys who are like "That doesn't define you... show with actions not words that you are a better person now. Recovery isn't linear" and I'm like wow you're so right people in my head.... thank you for loving me.... anyways

[kamitv]

▷ What You Need

Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)

A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]

You wanted to fuck him.

Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.

A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.

——

You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.

And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.

The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town. 

Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.

Up until a rather particular Friday morning.

Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.

And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”

His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.

“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.

His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.

It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.

And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.

Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said. 

You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.

He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”

“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”

That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“

“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”

Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”

Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”

“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”

The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.

“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.

Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”

His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.

And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.

Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well. 

——

The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.

Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?

That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.

As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city? 

Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.

She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”

“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“

“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“

“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”

The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”

Your face scrunches up, “What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.

To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”

“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“

“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”

“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.

You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”

Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”

“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.

Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.

Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.

The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.

Or at least, you’re supposed to be.

——

But God do you make things difficult.

You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.

Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.

That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.

But again, you make it so fucking difficult.

One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.

Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.

To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.

Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).

And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin. 

And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-

The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.

Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-

“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.

Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.

That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.

He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”

“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”

He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-

“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”

“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.

You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”

Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”

“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”

Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.

To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”

You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him. 

Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn. 

“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.

Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”

Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-

“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.

“Father,” You hum in response.

He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.

Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.

Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.

All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.

——

Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.

It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.

Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had. 

The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.

At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.

Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.

Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.

When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.

Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.

It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.

You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.

Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.

He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.

You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”

“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”

“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.

You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”

You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.

He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”

“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.

Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.

“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.

Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.

Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.

Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”

“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”

You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.

“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.

“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“

He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”

You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.

Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”

He smirks, “Do I?”

“Mhm. How old are you?”

“A hundred ‘n fifty.”

You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”

You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.

To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”

“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”

“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”

Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.

His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”

Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”

“I know-“

“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.

His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”

“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.

Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.

“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?”

He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”

“So?”

“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”

“Yet?” Choso echoes.

“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”

“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”

Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”

“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.

You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”

“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.

“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”

He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”

Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”

“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.

“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“

He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”

“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.

You smirk, “Everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere.”

“Like… even your c-“

“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”

Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”

“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.

“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”

At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.

After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.

His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.

“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”

He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”

“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.

Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”

You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“

“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.

“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”

The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.

“Yes, I-“

“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.

You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”

“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.

“I need-“

“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.

You whine, “But-“

“Speak properly to me ‘nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.

You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”

He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.

Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”

“You don’t know anything,” He argues.

“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper

“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.

The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”

He chokes, “I won’t.”

You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”

“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”

You miss his touch already, “Like what?”

“Watch a movie.”

“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”

It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”

——

And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?

Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.

The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.

Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.

He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.

“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.

His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”

You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”

He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”

“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.

He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”

That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break. 

And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good. 

Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.

He smirks, “Where?”

“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.

Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.

He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.

“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.

You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.

Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.

“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”

You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”

He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.

“No,” You huff.

Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.

Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”

You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.

His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.

“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”

“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”

You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.

“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”

Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you. 

Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”

“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”

He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”

You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”

He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.

Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.

“Cho-“

“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”

“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”

“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.

You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.

For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”

A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.

To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”

The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.

“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”

“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.

“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.

His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.

“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.

He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.

When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”

“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.

“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.

He bites his lip, “Anything else?”

His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.

“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”

“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”

“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.

He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”

“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.

As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.

“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.

“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.

“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”

Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”

“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.

And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.

Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.

“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.

“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”

“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.

“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.

He chuckles, “Stop what?”

“Bein’ gentle with me.”

Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”

You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”

“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.

Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.

“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.

Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”

All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”

Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.

“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.

“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”

He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.

Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”

“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.

He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”

——

That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.

At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.

Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.

He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach. 

Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”

You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.

“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.

With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.

“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.

You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.

Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.

You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.

“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”

If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.

But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.

Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.

“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.

He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.

You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”

“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.

Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”

His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.

Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.

“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.

Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.

“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.

You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”

Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.

He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner. 

Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.

Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness. 

Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back. 

You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”

His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.

Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.

Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.

Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”

His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.

Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.

Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”

“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.” 

“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”

You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.

“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.

“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.

He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”

Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“

“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.

You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.

So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.

The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.

Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.

Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.

Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…

[eternityofend]

BOOTHILL HEADCANONS

> Reminder that this is not canon/accurate to his personality (this is before Boothill gets released.)

+ contains nsfw (Is labeled)

( Art credit: @ Luvmybabygirl0 )

SFW

I'd like to imagine, that this man just does a hair flip every time he's offended at what you said.

Ex.

"My Love, I know you're jealous but it's just a cat.."

Boothill looks at you for five solid seconds, and then hair flips to let you know he's really offended. "Tell the cat to move then, that's my place."

Does not skip leg day, would probably kabedon you using his LEG or if he does work out he'd probably want to use you as weight, like letting you sit on him while he does push-ups.

Loves going on little trips with you using horses, if you don't have your own horse he'd definitely let you ride his horse but you're in front of him.

Bonus points if you're shorter than him cause he'd put his chin on top of your head while his hands go around your waist to grab the rein.

Would flex to everyone about you, like- he's in a fight with someone? "You weak cutie(bitch), my lover hits harder than you."

Would call you petnames like "Sugar", "Honey", "Darling" , "Babe/Baby" , "Sweetheart" , "Love" , "Love bug" , "Sunshine" , "Pretty (boy/girl/thing)"

Listens to Lady Gaga, I'm sure of this, he would so rock it out on the dance floor and get you to dance with him.

Has eaten a bullet in front of you and was incredibly confused at your reaction that was just like 😰, until you tell him that you were surprised he ate a bullet he'd just be like 🤨 but if you did tell him straight away, he'd cackle at you.

Sometimes forgets he was originally a human so he does the craziest things knowing he can get fixed up anyway (he once jumped off a 13 foot building to chase after an enemy)

Loves to cuddle you, he wants to feel your warmth while he sleeps or relaxes.

Lets you braid his hair or comb it if you want to, once he gets used to you combing or braiding his hair he'd just walk up to you at random times with a brush in hand and let you do what you want with his hair.

Really reckless and causes a lot of trouble sometimes but there are days where he's really calm and all he wants to do is spend time with you, like he just acts like a cute little kitten who just woke up when he's calm.

If JoJo existed in their world, he would be a big fan of it.

Would let you name his gun or horse, does not complain at all even if you name it "princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble" he'd just laugh, completely accepting the name.

Even says the name during fights, he'd say "Your time's out, time to die by my princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble." 😭😭

Looks at his reflection in the mirror a lot while practicing poses, even getting you to watch from the bed or couch while showing you a new pose he likes.

Kisses you a lot, even in public he's really affectionate and touchy, cause no way is he letting other people look at you and think you're single.

You're hot and he knows you're hot so he's trying his best to make everyone know you're already taken.

If someone TRIES to flirt with you in front of him, he's already got you by the waist, against the wall, making out while he flips off the one who tried to flirt with you.

Would let you pick his earrings, always excited when you say you bought a new earring for him.

Looks good in an apron, like, really good. Househusband material frfr.

Plays with your hair a lot, twirling it, and even kissing some strands while he looks at you in the eye.

Easy to get flustered but it always leads to him making you more flustered, he takes everything like a challenge but he does love it every time you sass him back or flirt with him.

Causes a lot of trouble for you and with you, if its for you it's going to be super romantic however it'll make some people irritated, but if he's causing trouble with you, its more chaotic and a LOT of people will 100% get pissed.

Cannot sleep without you in his arms, he'll walk over to your room (if you guys aren't sharing one), hair all messy from tossing and turning because you weren't in bed with him. He'll just plop into your bed, it doesn't matter if you're even awake or not he just wants to hold you while he sleeps.

NSFW

Definitely takes off his hat and puts it on you BUT only when he's letting you ride, if you're having normal sex he'd probably just keep it on or let you bite on it while he fucks you from behind.

Probably says something weird during sex which I would love to imagine would just be "Yeehaw" because he can't curse.

Probably into roleplay where you're a criminal and he's a cowboy who successfully hunted you down or the opposite, has a bunch of handcuffs just to use it for roleplay.

I feel like he'd just be the type of person to use sex toys, not dildos though cause he wants to be the only dick inside you, something like collars, leashes, handcuffs, whips, ropes,

He'd be into gags, bondage, dirty talk, lactation, blindfold sex, spit, both praise and degrading kink, spanking, anal, lap-dances, fingering (he'd be conflicted about receiving), oral (receiving and giving), sensory deprivation, and gun play!

If he doesn't have a dick, he'll probably have a bunch of straps, he's good at giving oral but would still prefer fucking you with a dick than fingering or eating you out. (Unless he's the one getting fucked)

I feel like he's a switch but more on the dominant side, he's super open to submission as long as his partner can pleasure him real good.

This man walks around technically naked all the time, so he's got to have imagined having public sex here and there, but most likely in bars where everyone's busy and doing their own thing. Like it'd turn him on if you were just on his lap humping his erection while you both are in a bar but everyone else is just too drunk to notice at all.

Super vocal, grunting, moaning, sometimes even whining and whimpering, you got it all, bonus points because he does it all straight into your ear.

Uses his sharp teeth to mark you all over your body and then sucks on it to leave hickeys, would likely be a little menace and leave his marks somewhere visible even if you're wearing clothes so people would know your his

Wants you to pull on his hair while fucking, he wants to be able to know how good he's making you feel and hair pulling would be his goal to make sure you're getting actual pleasure.

When he kisses you or makes out with you, it'd always involve tongue, has a little hand that sneaks over to your waist stopping at your hip or your ass.

Slaps your ass loud, especially in public, he just smacks it while you're in mid-conversation and the sound just ECHOES, it doesn't hurt it just sounds like it does, he just stands there smirking while you stare at him.

He's an ass guy, boobs are nice to him cause he can suck on the nipples but definitely an ass guy, you cannot tell me he doesn't fuck you from behind solely to see your ass jiggle with every thrust he does.

Flat? Nuh uh, he's making that shit bounce no matter what.

Likes playing with you using his gun, frequently flicks the handle of his gun over your nipples or dick/pussy, sometimes he shoves a little bit of his gun in and if you get your cum on the muzzle, he'd lick it right in front of you.

Likes praising you and getting degraded, is into getting whipped too, he secretly wants to be on his knees begging for you, worshipping you, while you're standing over him with a whip in your hands. (The whip doesn't actually do any damage)

Does not care what gender you are, sometimes he'd misgender you on purpose and call your ass a pussy or if you're a girl, he'd probably call you "pretty boy" just to get you riled up.

His favorite positions when bottoming would be cowgirl, and his favorite position if he's on top would be Doggystyle.

(Edit: I just realized how much of a power bottom he is, but it's up to you, the reader whether you want to fuck him or be fucked by him 😇)

Please do remember everything is just a headcanon and is not actually linked or accurate to what Boothill's like in canon.

( Art credit

1st: Kradebii on Danbooru

2nd: Tei (@2hwe1) on twt

3rd: 2월14일 (Valentine_DD_) on twt )

Please tell me if I got the artists wrong!

[strawhbrrries]

Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

[neos127]

enhypen x gn!reader | vulnerable moments

enhypen showing vulnerability in your relationship genre. fluff, some angst, hcs + established relationship cw. none!

heeseung

your boyfriend nearly laughed in your face when you suggested to give him a bath. ‘i’m not 80’ he drawled, causing you to roll your eyes. heeseung had been complaining about his body being a bit sore so you wanted to help him feel a bit better.

“let me take care of you…you never do.” you pouted, pushing heeseung in the direction of the bathroom.

“is this just a plot to get me to take my clothes o-” you shut the door in his face, telling him to get undressed. you had already prepared the bath tub for him, knowing that even though he would probably protest at first, you would get him in there somehow.

once heeseung called you back in, you giggled at the sight of him surrounded by bubbles. he looked relaxed, despite fighting the idea before.

when you knelt down next to the tub, you began to run soap over his body. you stopped to massage his shoulders a bit and heeseung hummed with content.

“didn’t know i was at a spa today.” heeseung joked, causing you to pinch his side. he yelped and turned his body to face you, a shocked expression on his face.

“shush, hee.” you giggled, turning him back around to continue washing him. after you were done, you handed heeseung a towel and walked out of the bathroom to give him privacy. for the rest of the night, you decided to pamper him. even doing his skincare which heeseung appreciated very much. he relaxed into your touch, smiling up at you as you applied lotion to his face.

“i love you alot, you know?” heeseung spoke up before placing a light kiss on your hand. you smiled back at him.

“i love you too.”



jay

“why do you always act that way around him?” you sighed, facing your boyfriend who looked just as upset as you were. the two of you had come back to jay’s apartment after meeting up with some friends, one of them being a guy that jay didn’t like. he claimed that your friend actually had a crush on you, he may have been right but at the moment you were too upset to care.

“it doesn’t matter if he likes me or not, im dating you!” you exclaimed, tired of the argument that wasn’t going anywhere. jay was fuming, pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor.

“it does matter! what if you see how great he is after hanging out with him so much? what if you see how much better he could be for you than i am.” he replied, his voice cracking a bit. all anger you once had suddenly vanished and instead you felt sad. jay was jealous, sure, but only because he hadn’t felt secure in your relationship.

you wordlessly walk over to jay before wrapping your arms around him into a hug. he immediately reciprocates, not being able to stay mad at you for very long.

“sometimes i feel like i’m not good enough for you.” he mumbles, his grip still firm around your waist. you pull away slightly to look at his handsome face, smiling at him reassuringly.

“you’re more than enough. you’re everything to me, jay, please don’t ever forget that.”

jake

jake was sure he was in heaven, his head resting on your stomach as your fingers ran through his hair. jake let out a few low hums, his eye closed as he basked in the feeling of having you with him. the boy was fully relaxed and completely at your mercy, but he was comfortable. jake always felt comfortable around you, enough to even let you baby him a bit.

“you’re so tired, huh? had a long day?” you asked softly, your voice nearly a whisper but your tone was as if you were speaking to a small animal. jake knew his friends would have a a laugh if they saw him like that, responding to your words as if he weren’t a fully grown 21 year old.

“mhm.” he hummed in response, snuggling his head impossibly deeper into your hoodie, the one that smelled like your sweet perfume that he adored so much.

sunghoon

you walked into your boyfriend’s room, expecting him to be sleeping or playing a game on his computer. you didn’t expect to see him simply staring out his window, playing with his hands idly.

“sunghoon?” you broke the silence, causing your boyfriend to look at you with a sad expression. you immediately rushed over to him, sitting next to the boy on his bed.

“what happened?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his eye. sunghoon takes a deep breath before explaining everything to you— how drained he was, how at times he felt as if he wasn’t good at what he did. he poured out his heart to you, telling you exactly how he felt. he suddenly became choked up, his eyes watering with unshed tears. and then, sunghoon began to cry.

you froze, not knowing how to react considering that you had never seen your boyfriend cry before. he tried to cover his face, but the way his shoulders shook and the sounds of soft cries filling the room showed that he was truly upset. the sight broke your heart and you immediately pulled sunghoon into your chest. he wrapped his arms around your waist, crying into your shirt.

“it’s okay, it’ll be okay.” you mumbled softly as you ran your hands through sunghoon’s hair to comfort him.

sunoo

towards the beginning of your relationship, sunoo had been very hesitant with affection. you two would hold hands and exchange soft kisses, but he hadn’t been one for cuddling and long hugs.

one day, to your surprise, sunoo decided that he wanted to be extra close to you. the two of you were resting on the couch watching a movie and you had decided to lay down. sunoo laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist burying his face into your neck. you tensed at the sudden action, not expecting your boyfriend to cuddle you. sunoo thought you were uncomfortable and went to pull away.

“no! you can stay like that- i was just shocked that’s all.” you spoke up, placing his arms back around your waist.

“im sorry that i haven’t been as affectionate.” sunoo sighed, tightening his hold around your waist. you smiled and pushed yourself further into him, feeling warm and comforted in his embrace.

“don’t apologize, sun. i love you regardless.”

jungwon

jungwon appearing at the doorframe of your dark room did scare you a bit. he had just stood there quietly, similar to horror movie characters before they attack their victim.

“you okay?” you asked your boyfriend before sitting up from your bed and turning on the small bedside lamp. a frown was evident on jungwon’s face, his eyes glossy.

“not really.” he tried to crack a smile, which looked like more of a grimace. you extended your arms, a silent invitation for jungwon to join you. the boy slowly trudged over to your bed, plopping himself down on the mattress, half of his body ontop of yours.

jungwon explained everything to you, how he felt and how his mental health had been affected recently due to his stress. you listened attentively, letting him rant to you, even if some of his words became a jumbled mess. as soon as he was finished speaking, he slumped into your body, the weight of his bottled up feelings had finally been released.

you ran your hand across his back and held him close, feeling happy that he decided to open up to you. during your relationship so far you had never had such talks with jungwon. but it seemed as if you were turning over a new leaf.

riki

he just couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so gorgeous, adorable, pretty— any similar word riki could think of. you looked up at your boyfriend, dropping the lego piece that you were holding in your hand. usually riki looked away when he caught you staring, but this time he met your gaze.

“what?” you asked sharply, not meaning for it to come out that way but you suddenly felt self conscious due to his eye contact. riki didn’t take your tone to heart, simply shrugging his shoulders.

“i love you.” he mumbled, still looking at you from across the set of legos you were both building. you paused, your stomach exploding with butterflies.

“i love you a lot and you mean everything to me. i know i probably don’t say it often, but i just wanted you to know. i hope to be by your side for a long time.” riki added on, suddenly becoming shy and looking away. you smiled before crawling over to riki and pulling him into a hug. the boy had never been so open with you before but you appreciated it greatly.

“i love you too, ki. i promise to be by your side for a very long time.” you replied, pulling back slightly and holding your pinky out. riki looked down at your hand and chuckled before linking his pinky with yours.

taglist — @boyfhee @junityy @aenify @iilwji @catzisb1og @greentulip @starantulas @jakesangel @heeblurs @pshbites

[tpwk-formula1]

It Was Obvious - LN4

Lando Norris x Fewtrell Twin reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N Fewtrell have been seeing each other since just before the season started, what happens when they all go on vacation for summer break and are forced to continue and try to hide their relationship.

TW - NOT EDITED, lowkey mad cheesy, some fluff, talks of slight anxiety, secret relationship

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Lando, he's going to kill us if he catches you in here," I whisper to my boyfriend of 6 months, who is currently in my room pulling me in for another kiss.

"I'm willing to fight," Lando whispers again before kissing me again. It was a rushed make out session knowing we didn't have much time making me feel like I was back in year 10 hiding my boyfriend from my parents. But instead of my parents not knowing it's my twin brother who just so happens to be Lando's best friend.

"I love you," I whisper when he pulls away. I see the light blush crawl up his neck before settling on his cheek showing that regardless of how long we have been together we still get the giddy feelings.

"I love you too," he whispers back before slipping out of my room presumably going to his or Max's.

It's not even ten minutes later before another knock rings out through my room making me think Lando is coming back in already..

"Come in," I call out not moving from my bad. When the door opens to reveal Pietra I relax slightly knowing I don't have to worry about my twin coming in and finding out the truth had it been Lando.

"I wanna talk to you," P tells me softly making me sit up and start to feel some anxiety sink in, not knowing what she wants to talk about.

"Im not picking sides in the divorce," I joke softly making her laugh and shake her head.

"I'm not breaking up with your brother," P tells me softly making me laugh cause I knew damn well she wasn't trying to talk to me about that.

"So you and Lando?" She asks with a smirk on her face. I instantly feel all the air in the room leave making it increasingly more difficult to breathe.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down! I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. I just wanna know more information," P tells me softly when she notices the panic starting to take over my body.

"Please don't tell anyone," I whisper out not knowing how to to trust anyone right now.

"I won't tell anyone. I think it's something you and Lando will need to do on your own time," she tells me with a smile making me relax a little bit more.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks me with a smile. I nod my head with a smile knowing I haven't been able to talk about my relationship with anyone but my mom.

"We started dating in February shortly after Max dragged you and I to that stupid golf thing. We had been talking before that but after Lando got wasted and couldn't take care of himself I went back home with him and pretty much babysat him until he went to sleep. The next morning he woke up and he set up a really cute brunch where he asked me out," I tell her with a smile making her smile with me.

"How did you figure it out?" I ask making her laugh out loud.

"Girl I love you to death but you guys are terrible at sneaking around. We've been here for for two days and everytime I can't find you, Lando just so happens to be missing as well, so I decided to spy on yall. Well kind of, I just so happened to be coming out of the bathroom when he was leaving your room and I truly wouldn't have thought anything of it but I was already suspecting you guys," she tells me making me nod.

"I think Lando and I are gonna make Max to lunch and tell him. I'm tired of lying to him and hiding my relationship," I tell her making her nod and smile.

"I think it's about time 'cause that was almost 7 months ago," she laughs out. I laughed with her happy to know she was happy for me and supported my relationship.

We're nearing the end of our trip and I have decided it was time. Keegan was already making jokes about us being together and thankfully Max was brushing them off as a joke but I'm sure he's going to start realizing the truth.

"Hey Max, I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch later?" I ask softly not wanting to give too much information and try to pass it off as twin bonding.

"Ya, we could go to that one restaurant you've been begging to since we arrived," Max says with a laugh.

"I saw it on TikTok and it looked amazing," I reply back showing my excitement.

I make sure to text Lando the plan and while I plan to tell Max just us I want Lando nearby incase he wants to talk to both of us.

We're halfway through our meal when I finally drop my fork and clear my throat.

"I have to tell you something," I tell him making him drop his fork and roll his eyes jokingly.

"I knew you didn't just want to hang out with me," he jokes making both of us laugh.

"Ya, um but you have to promise to hear me out before getting upset," I tell him suttering in stress a little making him focus on me completely.

"So, please don't be upset but, landoandiareseeingeachother," I breath out in one breath talking too fast for anyone to understand.

"Try again and breathe this time," Max says trying to stay calm at the situation.

"Lando and I are dating," I tell him refusing to look at him. When I meet his eyes I he is giving me the most disbelief look possible.

"Are you kidding me?" Max asks in pure disbelief making me grow increasingly more nervous.

"I promise he's a good one," I quickly come to defend my partner.

"You thought I didn't know?" Max rephrases his statement making it clear he already knows.

"You knew!" I announce being quite a bit louder than I had hoped.

"I've known since Miami. I mean that confirmed it but I definitely caught on before that," Max tells me slightly stunned that I didn't realize.

"I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. Besides its been funny watching you and Lando try to sneak around all this time," Max tells me laughing slightly.

"So you don't care?" I ask him trying to get clarification. He just shook his head no.

"What about P?" I asked just getting curious to the situation now.

"What about her?" Max asks, clearly confused now.

"She came into my room earlier in the trip and asked me about it," I tell him, giving him some more detail about the conversation.

"Oh, no I didn't tell anyone I knew. Meaning she also caught on to your guy's terrible sneaking," Max laughs before adding, "Hell, even Keegan caught on."

I just laughed at that before sending Lando a quick text to let him know he could come in if he wanted. When he met us at the table Max explained to both of us how he caught on and when he realized we both had feelings for each other, which had been long before we started talking.

"Hey but if you break her heart I will pay Verstappen to take you out," Max tells Lando as we are walking back to the beach house we rented for the week.

That just made Lando laugh before telling him he wouldn't dare hurt me.

It was nice being able to spend the last few days of break not having to hide my relationship.

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…’

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[ellecdc]

I can’t find many fics with this…but would you maybe be willing to right poly marauders x werewolf reader?

Not in like a super angsty way. Maybe just like the morning after the full moon and Sirius and James are teasing reader and Remus because “you guys are like puppies chasing after bunnies.” Or maybe like prep for the moon and wow all the chocolate is gone it’s barely been a day.

I love this! thanks for the request, I hope I did it justice <3

poly!marauders x werewolf!reader post full-moon [836 words]

CW: fem!reader, post-moon care, werewolves being giant goofy baby dogs, James being doting, sirius being soft af [my kryptonite], Remus being stupid in love

His eyes - though obviously clear and clean of any blood, sweat, or debris - feel like they are crusted over. His chest feels like it’s being weighed down by a herd of erumpants. And his mouth tastes like acid and iron.

But the first thing from his mouth is the sound of your name as it rips through the sandpaper that's coating his throat, blindly feeling around on the bed whilst refusing to open his eyes. 

“Easy, Rem.” James whispers, and Remus can feel gentle fingers card through his hair. “She’s okay.”

“Where is she?” Remus croaks, still blindly searching for you even though it has become clear Remus won’t find you there.

“She’s right here, Moons.” He hears Sirius murmur, further from him than James is, which makes him too far away. 

Remus finally wrenches his eyes open and turns his head on his pillow, his neck cracking audibly as he finally spots the bed you’re situated in.

If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think it rather looked like Sirius was the one in the hospital wing; laying back on the bed, his head propped up comfortably on the stack of pillows meant for you whilst you were situated between his legs, your cheek smooshed up against his chest that rose and fell in time with his breathing. 

But Remus does know better.

“What’re you doing in her bed?” Remus grumbles, but the inflection is more a result of his current state and less to do with any real ire. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how sweet a picture it painted; Sirius’ onyx hair fanned out against the white of the pillow cases, the sun warming a few strands ever so slightly causing them to appear a chocolatey brown as your breathing continued in perfect rhythm. You seem so content, so secure, so loved that even whilst unconscious, you lean into them with your full trust.

“Same thing Jamie’s doing in yours.” Sirius responds breezily around a yawn, and Remus looks up to notice that James is actually perched on the head of his bed looking down at him - like he hung, well, the moon - massaging at his scalp that Remus swore saw any residual tension seeping from his body with every stroke of James’ careful fingers. 

“She okay?” Remus asks then, letting his eyes fall closed as Sirius lets out a indignant scoff. 

“‘Course she is, we’re not new here.” He sneers playfully at Remus, pulling you closer to him by the shoulders when you shift in your sleep and brushes his hand up and down your back in broad strokes; Remus is sure it feels heavenly.

“We’re fine too, by the way.” James teases as he leans down to press a kiss to Remus’ forehead. “Not like we were the ones doing all the hard work last night or anything.”

“Hard work.” Remus snorts. “I’m sorry; did your bones bend and break, and did your skin stretch and snap twice?” 

“No…” James admits, though it’s Sirius who continues the banter. 

“We were just in charge of chasing two giant, hyperactive puppies through the forest all night.”

“We’re not puppies.”

“Yes you are.” Sirius laughs, though Remus can tell - for Sirius’ part - he’s working very hard to dim his brightness in an attempt to keep you sound and not wake you. It makes Remus’ heart swell. “Dolly’s afraid of her own sodding shadow and yelped at every snapping twig, requiring plenty of reassurance, and Moony spent about twenty minutes chasing his own tail before he fell head first into a tree when he got dizzy.” 

“That’s not true, is it?” Remus whispers to James who quickly offers him an apologetic smile.

“‘Fraid so, Moons. The two of you also had what I swore was a howling contest last night, too.”

“Oh my gods.” Sirius laughs as he recalls the memory. “Moony’s voice actually cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty, and Dolly’s voice was completely hoarse by the time we convinced the two of you to knock it off.”

“She’s not going to be able to speak more than a whisper for the next foreseeable future.” James adds, looking equal parts fond, exasperated, and sympathetic for you as they watch you push your face into Sirius’ chest. 

“We’ll make her tea.” Sirius declares, his own voice but a whisper as he holds you close, eyes far away as if he’s focusing especially hard on keeping you comfortable and sleeping soundly.

“With lots of honey.” Remus agrees quietly, smile growing when Sirius’ eyes meet his and crinkle in the corners.

“Pandora told me she has a recipe for lavender tea; could be nice to try after a moon, hm?” James offers.

“You’d probably like that too, hey Moons? Lavender tea.” Sirius asks. 

And Remus couldn’t deny that he would probably like just about anything so long as he was able to enjoy it with the three of you; pre- and post-moons, recovering in the hospital wing, watching paint dry, steeping tea…whatever.

 “Yeah, Pads.” He admits. “I think I would.”

[hees-mine]

SECRET - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: stepcest, smut, unprotected sex, oral, anal fingering, face sitting, cockwarming, dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms, cursing. Not proofread forgive me.

Genre: 18+, smut, minors do not interact, taboo relationship, stepcest

WC: 4,492k

⟱⟱⟱

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you up this late,” heeseung whispers to you as you enter the kitchen, rubbing the grogginess from your eyes while yawning.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply and walk to the fridge, pouring yourself a glass of cold water. “It is really late,” you mutter, taking a sip and staring at the clock aimlessly.

“You’re telling me. The guys wouldn’t let me leave to save my life,” he laughs softly, rummaging around the fridge, but nothing really catches his eyes, so he closes the door.

“Poor you,” you say with a slight giggle that he smiles at.

“Poor you, too.” Stepping away from the fridge, he walks over to you, standing just mere inches away as he scans your face.

“W-what do you mean?” You question confusedly, tilting your head to the side as he closes in on you even more.

“Could’ve been here with you.” resting his palms on your waist, he glides his large, warm hands up and down your sides until his hands slip underneath the hem and he finds your perky braless breasts kneading on them.

You gasp suddenly and pull away from him. “Heeseung, what are you doing?” Your heart was pounding in your chest at this point, and you had no idea what was going on. One minute, you were laughing together, and the next, he was touching you. Not to say you didn’t like it, but this was wrong. He was your stepbrother. He shouldn’t be doing things to you like that.

He rolls his eyes; just the fact it took you that long to react makes it evident to him that you didn’t mind him touching you. “Pfft, come on, y/n, I see the way you look at me, the way you stare at my cock every chance you get” he chuckles and walks closer to you again. “And, of course, you know the way I look at you,” he whispers, hinting at all the times you caught him staring at you inappropriately. He dips his head down and kisses your neck, his hands already sliding up your shirt and pushing it all the way up to your shoulders, revealing your naked chest, and he bites his lip at the sight staring down at you with eyes full of desire.

“We shouldn’t.” You looked up at him, eyes wide and expectant, your words having no real value. You know you should care about what’s happening. You should be concerned with the countless times you eye fucked your stepbrother, but you just didn’t. All you wanted since the day you met was to have his cock buried deep inside you, and even more when you saw his tent in his pajamas for the first time. You’ve never been the same after that, and you’ve been thirsting for his big dick every day.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t care, and I know you don’t either. I can be your secret, and you can be mine.” he cups your breasts, rubbing your cute little hardened nipples with his thumb. “I just need to fuck your pussy, baby. I’m tired of fucking my fist to the thought of you, and we finally have some time alone” he backs you up against the counter, pressing his hard bulge on you, and you moan, finally coming in contact with what you’ve been wanting for months.

“You touch yourself to the thought me?” You couldn’t help but wonder.

“Of course I do.” he rolled his hips against you, groaning at the friction as he did it over and over again. “You do it too, right? Thinking about me and my cock while you get off on those pretty little fingers?” He rests his head on your shoulder, hands slipping from your chest to your waist, holding you still as he ruts into your core, leaving you breathless.

You grip onto his wide shoulders. “So many times,” You bite your lip, tilting your head back to grant him access to kiss your neck. “Had to go to sleep unsatisfied so many nights cause nothing felt as good as I know you would,” you admit.

“Hmm, sorry baby, but I got you tonight, all right? Gonna make this pussy cream till my little stepsister is fucked and satisfied,” he grins as he leans back. “Up,” you followed his instructions, lifting your arms up for him, your flimsy shirt falling to the tiled floor.

He takes off his shirt next to the material pooling on the floor along with yours before he unfastens his belt and opens his jeans as well. He impatiently reaches out to you, bringing you close to his body until his chest is flush against yours; his body shivers when both your bodies meet together. He’s been dying to feel your body like this for what feels like forever. “Mmm,” he presses his fingertips into your waistline, the other hand slinking up to your throat, pressing on the sides gently as he brings you in for a kiss.

You opened up to him right away, letting his tongue inside your mouth and swirling yours around it.

Feeling lightheaded already, you kiss him back, your movements even more rushed and rough than his. Your noses continuously brush against one another as your lips lock in a wet, sloppy kiss.

He pulls away, his mouth parted, and your warm breath fans his face.

You stare up at him, blinking innocently, your eyes already lidded with arousal as your hands find his toned chest, massaging every faint line of muscle.

He watches the way your hands glide on his body, nipples growing stiff as your fingers brush over them. “Yeah,” he whispers in approval, his cock twitching as you lean in, swirling your tongue over his erected bud.

His mouth parts open further as you alternate between nipples while slipping your hand inside his jeans to palm his erection at the same time. “Fuck” he bucks his hips fucking himself on your hand and getting lost in the pleasure even though you two barely even started.

You chuckle deeply, loving how reactive he is to your sensual touches. You suck extra hard on his left nipple, and he moans, his hand going up your back and tangling itself in your hair. “Shit,” he hissed, eyes rolling backward in his head.

Your hand searches for the hole in the front of his boxers, and you find it easily pulling his stiff cock out of the confines of his clothing.

Moaning against his chest, you whine in satisfaction when you feel him skin on skin. He’s hot to the touch, pulsating and leaking precum.

“Oh my god, y/n.” The sudden change in his voice makes you pulsate even harder. You never heard his voice like this before. He sounds so high-pitched and whiny, but he can’t help it. He’s never felt this fucking amazing before. How were you making him go crazy with just sucking his nipples and jerking him off? He must’ve been more desperate than he thought, or maybe you’re just that good.

You move your face from his chest, his eyes fluttering open as you do so. “Please let me suck your dick,” you ask, needing to feel him in your mouth now.

He rubs your scalp with the tips of his fingers. “Of course, baby, get down on your knees and suck on my dick,” he watches as you drop to your knees in front of him. The sight alone makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

Looking up at his hazy eyes, you grip the bottom of his shaft, pumping his size slowly. “Oh fuck” he shuddered, still sensitive from nearly cumming just from your hand a moment ago.

“Mmhmm you like that hee?” He clenches his jaw, breathing through his nose as calmly as he can.

“Yea baby, I do” he releases a deep breath having zero control over his hips as he starts fucking your hand again, looking so desperate for it.

Without any more words, you open up your mouth, lightly suckling on just the tip at first.

The taste of salty precum hits your taste buds, and you can’t help but hum, loving the way his hard, heavy cock feels on your tongue.

Salivating at the first taste, you eagerly swallow down the rest of him, taking the remainder of his thick cock all the way down your tight wet throat.

He lurches forward and quickly grips the counter to stabilize himself. “Y/n fuck” he curses, lip bit tightly between his teeth to keep it down, his face twisted and eyebrows furrowed in pure unadulterated pleasure. “You feel so good on my dick” he balls his hand into a tight fist, overwhelmed by the feeling of your hot mouth sucking him off like your life depends on it.

You gagged spit dripping down his shaft and coating his balls as his tip hit the back of your throat, but that only excited you more as you bob your head faster, your lips tightly secured all the way around his cock as you cup his saliva-covered balls softly stroking them.

“Shit, y/n, fuck fuck fuck I’m g-gonna c-cum” he whimpers in desperation as his release hits him hard. “Let me cum in your mouth, please,” he rushes out, and you nod immediately, waiting to get your throat stuffed with his cum. Not even a second later, he shoots his cum straight down your throat. You feel his heavy balls tighten in your hand, his cock twitching on your bottom lip as he rewards you with his warm cum.

Despite your knees feeling sore from the tile, you suck him completely dry, finishing him off with a quiet pop as you wipe the corners of your lips and swallow every last drop. “Come here.” he takes your hands, helping you stand off the ground. You can barely stand straight before he pulls you into a messy kiss way; you willingly swallow his cum, turning him on all over again, his bare cock brushing against your leg as he backed you up into the fridge door, the coolness of it feeling good in contrast to how hot it has become.

“Heeseung,” you cup his face, kissing him back with equal enthusiasm as he taps your thigh, signaling you to wrap your legs around him.

He pressed his palms into the appliance behind you, letting you hang off him completely. “Fuck baby, you already got me going again” he pulled back from the kiss, and you encircled your arms around his neck.

Grabbing the backs of your thighs, he hoists you in his arms, moving you on top of the kitchen counter with ease. “Lay down for me,” you do as he says, eager to know what he’s got in store for you.

He yanks down his jeans and underwear, leaving himself naked. Once he’s finished, he grabs the waist of your shorts, pulling them down as well with the help of you lifting your hips.

Now you’re bare on the table, your cunt wet and glistening on display like a full-course meal just for him.

Licking his lips, he situated himself between your legs, lifting them up and pressing them to your chest. He didn’t even say anything. He just leaned in, and all you felt was his hot, heavy breath fanning your pussy before a long wet line was licked from your rim to your clenching pussy. “O-oh,” you gasp, your legs trembling from just the first lick.

“Knew you’d taste so good” he closed his eyes, licking another long stripe up your juicy cunt, groaning as the flavor of you spreads on his tastebuds. “Smell so fucking amazing, too” he wasn’t shy to really get in there. His face was flush against your core, his tongue licking up every inch of your engorged vulva.

“Oh fuck yes,” you let your head rest on the counter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself and feel everything he does to you down there.

Without pause, his tongue falls out in one smooth motion as he inserts it inside you fucking it in and out.

You reach out to him, hands running through his silky hair pulling softly at the roots, and you have to restrain yourself from pushing his head down and fucking his face.

His nose runs over clit, and you swear you’ve never felt something so good. Just his tongue inside you felt unreal. You could only imagine how his dick would be.

You’re silently enjoying, for the most part, since your parents are fast asleep upstairs and the fact you were doing everything in your power not to thrust yourself onto his tongue.

Noticing your sudden lack of sounds and words, he switches to something that’d get him a reaction out of you. He pulls his tongue out, a long string of saliva following as he starts sucking on your pulsating clit and kneading your thighs.

He does it for a good minute transitioning between sucks and gentle flicks of his tongue, but he still doesn’t get any excitement out of you.

Was he doing something wrong?

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Nothing, what do you mean?” You question in confusion.

“I don’t know, it’s just you’re not- you don’t seem as if you’re as excited as I am about this,” he admits quietly with a soft sigh.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. “I am, I really am. You have no idea.”

“Sure? Cause I don’t have to if you don’t want it,” he replied, sounding dejected. He just wanted to return the favor and make you cum too.

“Yes, hee.” You lean up, giving him a kiss and rubbing your fingers through his hair. “I really want this. Don’t want you to ever stop, baby.” you kissed the tip of his nose. “Just don’t want to wake anyone up.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles at himself, forgetting for a moment that you both live with your parents, but even still, you were making some sounds before, but now you weren’t. Maybe he was overthinking it, but it’s like he could sense something was wrong.

“Yeah, silly that, and I’m trying my hardest not to ride your face,” you told him shyly, watching as all the apprehension left his face. No wonder it seemed like something was wrong. It’s because you were holding back, and fuck, he’s glad he said something because he wants nothing more than for you to ride his face and fuck yourself on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply picks you up and takes you to the couch. He lays flat on it first and searches for your hand, helping you climb on top of him. “Do as you please fuck do anything you want to me.”

You lost it the moment the words left his mouth. If it weren’t for you being so needy, you might have hesitated due to shyness, but you couldn’t. He was far too inviting for you not to just pounce on him.

You immediately lined yourself up with his face sinking down on him and moaning out as you started riding his pretty face.

He gripped your thighs, his tongue coming out as you rotated your hips on his face. “Fuck you’re so good,” you whimper, rubbing your pussy on his soft, warm tongue.

He hums as he slides his hands to your ass cheeks, squeezing and spreading you open, guiding you back and forth on his tongue. “I love the way you taste,” he says almost incoherently with the way his tongue passes through your folds.

You grip the head of the sofa, grinding your hips back and forth. His tongue slips inside your hole, and you arch your back, bouncing lightly as you feel his tongue fucking your swollen pussy.

He tests the waters, running a finger along your rim, and judging by how you let out the loudest moan of the night slip past your pretty lips, he can only surmise that you’re into that.

His index finger circles the tightness of your rim, and when you try and push back on him, he gives you what you want, sinking his finger into your asshole.

So tight and warm he swears he’s in paradise cause everything about you is absolutely perfect.

“Hee,” you whimper as you feel him slip it into you. Your head drops between your shoulders as you ride his tongue and finger. “I’m gonna cum” With a satisfied moan, he doesn’t stop his movements not until you clench around his tongue and spill your arousal all over his awaiting tongue.

A muffled curse leaves his mouth, the vibrations making your orgasm even more intense to the point your trembling legs clamp around his head. “So good” You threw your head back, rubbing your pussy all over him.

As you begin to come down from your high, he purses his lips rubbing them directly on your clit, and this, without a doubt, was by far the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Fuck” you whimper, your legs shaking as you feel a gush of wetness seep out of you.

Heeseung swallowed it down in less than a heartbeat, his cock twitching as your taste slithered down his throat. He was so fucking hard and ready for you, his cock lubed up in ridiculous amounts of precum, just waiting to be used in your pussy.

He retracts his finger, your hole clenching around nothing, practically begging him to finger your ass some more.

His hands grip your waist, and he pulls you down on him until you’re face to face, handling you like you weigh nothing. “You liked, huh, baby?” You nodded suddenly, feeling shy, and he couldn’t help but think it was cute how quickly your demeanor changed. “Give your stepbrother a kiss, yeah.” You hit his chest lightly at his teasing, but you kiss him nonetheless, the flavors of both your sexes being exchanged through the kiss as he wraps his arms around you securely, giving you both a minute or two before he’s slipping from under you and standing up. “Look what you do to me.” he looks down, and you clench when you see it. He’s so fucking huge and hard your mouth waters, and you would suck him off again if it wasn’t for your aching pussy begging to be fucked and filled.

“All that for me?” You ask with a smile, reaching out to stroke him a few times.

“Yeah, baby, all that for you,” he says, sensually rubbing your forearm as you stroke him off.

“Mhm then, if it’s all for me, put it inside me.” his expression fills with nothing but raw desire, and he doesn’t wait any longer to get to what you’ve both been waiting months for.

“Shit, turn over for me then” You didn’t need to be told twice, flipping over on the couch and giving him your best arch as you flip your hair to the side, looking behind you as he gets on the sofa.

He rests one leg on the ground, his knee on the couch next to you as he aligns his aching cock to your hole.

“Put it in, hee need you to fuck me so bad” his head feels fuzzy as he presses his tip on your entrance. You and your mouth are going to be the death of him.

“I’m gonna fuck you real good” he pushes it in, neither of you being able to wait any longer.

“Ooh yes,” you hiss at the stretch, your lips pursed in an attempt to suppress your moans.

He places his hand on your hip, one on your shoulder, sliding down the length of your back, softly tracing a line until he meets your right hip gripping onto you tightly as he fucks a few more inches inside you. “That’s it, take it. Look at that wet pussy swallowing up my dick,” he spanks your ass biting on his lip as your sloppy pussy lips hug around his length.

“Yes, hee, take my pussy and fill me up with your dick” You grip the couch, the stretch feeling so slick and hot as he enters you, fully bottoming out in your silky cunt. His tight balls rest on your outer lips, the wetness between your bodies sticking you both together.

He throws his head back, moaning as you take him all inside. It’s so warm and wet he feels like he might faint. You're just too good and tight for him to even think straight.

He’s already covered in sweat, pupils wide with arousal as he pulls back, his tip catching on to your tight opening, and he pushes back in, filling out your pussy again.

One slow stroke, and he thinks he might cum. “Fuck” he whines, his hands gripping your waist so tight they’ll be prints by tomorrow. “You’re really fucking tight y/n”

“Yeah, hee? Does your stepsister's pussy make you feel good” you tease, pushing back on his dick as it fills you to the hilt.

“Y/n,” his mouth parts as he takes a breath. “Fuck yes, it does, makes me feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re so wet.”

“Mhm yes hee fuck me fuck me hard wanna feel all of you,” you say, sounding drunk off the feeling of his big cock in you.

He thrust deeply, his pace naturally increasing with a feral need. The loud sound of your ass clapping against his sweaty thighs filled up the living room, and you were both too in the moment to care if either of your parents caught you.

“Ahh fuck yes!” You moan loudly as his tip nudges your cervix.

“Fuck y/n, you feel me deep in your pretty little pussy, mhm, like it being fucked deep and hard, isn’t that right, beautiful” he spanks you again, your perfect ass jiggling from the harsh impact.

You clench from the unexpected slap, your head falling into the cushion, a final attempt to silence yourself. “God, yes!” Your moans are thankfully muffled by the couch, but he can still hear every whimper and moan you let out.

He watches his thick cock fucking your cunt. This angle makes you look so good as you soak his dick, the white ring of arousal around the thick base of his shaft proving just how wet your pussy is getting for him.

He spat his hand in the heat of the moment. He rubs it between your spread ass, his thumb circling it around. “You want it?” He teases just the pad of his thumb.

You pick your head up, your eyes hazy, hair a mess, and when you look back at him, it’s the best image of you so far. “Yes, put your finger in my ass. Hee fuck me like I’m yours,” you say shamelessly, allowing him to do whatever he wants to your body, and you know you’ll love all of it.

“You are mine after tonight. You’re so fucking mine” Your eyes flutter in your head at his sudden possessiveness, and your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he slips his thumb into you.

Fucking his thumb in and out, he feels you get even tighter. “Since you like my finger in your ass, maybe you’ll like my dick too.”

Just the suggestion is enough to make you go insane. You can’t imagine how good his dick would feel up your ass.

“Huh?” He brushes some hair out of your face so he can see your reaction. “Wouldn’t you, baby, you’d love taking my big dick up your tight little ass,” he talks in a soft voice cooing as your face morphs into one of nothing but pure pleasure.

You pant, your body overwhelmed and covered in sweat as he fucks you harder into the couch. “Yes, so much, hee,” you say, half in, half out of it, your limbs giving into the pleasure that builds inside you.

“Nuh uh baby, keep arching for me.” he pressed down on your lower back, making you arch deeper than you were before, and the way he filled you up left you with no doubt that he was bulging in your lower stomach.

“Hee!” You squeal out, shocked by the pleasurable feeling of him pounding into your cervix relentlessly.

“Take it, that’s it, take it, take it, take it,” he grunts, shoving his thumb deeper inside you, only fitting to have both your holes penetrated as deeply as possible.

“Fuck” you cry out, your body in a position you didn’t even know you could take, and his dick hits places that have never been reached inside you before.

“Keep squeezing on my dick, cum on me, baby. Make a fucking mess,” he encourages you, giving you every last ounce of energy he’s got left to plow into you because he wasn’t letting you go another night without satisfying you with his cock.

His words make you reach your breaking point. “C-cumming” You fall apart on his dick, your body going limp as you succumb to the constant rubbing of his cock against your throbbing walls.

“M-me too,” he stutters. Every muscle in his body tenses with desire and wants as he releases his semen deep inside you. He rides out your highs with gentle strokes, pushing his cum as far inside you as it could possibly go, not letting a single drop slip out.

“Yes cum in me,” you whisper exhaustedly, moaning continuously as his warmth fills you inside out, your spent pussy squelching with every thrust.

He pulls his thumb out of you before you get too overwhelmed with everything he’s done to you.

“Good little stepsister, take all your big brother's cum” he lowers himself on top of you, his dick still buried to the hilt as he keeps himself inside you plugging you up with his cum.

You pant as his hands lay over yours, which were now flat beside your head on the couch.

He gives you little kisses all over your face every now and then, rocking his hips, reminding you that he’s still nestled deep inside your pussy.

You sigh softly, your breath finally returning to normal.

He blindly reaches on the back of the sofa to grab a blanket draped on the back, covering you both up as much as he could. “Tired my baby?” He whispers to you, and you nod in response. “Want me to clean you up and take you to bed? Does that sound good?” He smiles as you hum again. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s just stay here fit a little bit.

You don't protest when he flips you over and lays you on his chest. You feel some of his cum dripping out of you, but neither of you mind, too tired right now to be bothered.

You rest on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. As he strums your back peacefully and he whispers…

“This can be our little secret.”

⟱⟱⟱

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[yzzart]

between white sheets.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: a lazy morning with your boyfriend after a long night.

word count: 721!

notes: just a quick little thing, i thought of this scenario and here it is.

"Oh, i know you're awake…"

A typical and familiar British accent, with a deep and smug tone, vibrated against your bare neck; causing a kind of tickling and a wave of goosebumps in the region. — It was impossible not to squirm against the soft, fragrant sheets.

Even with your failed mission to pretend that you was still sleeping, your eyes remained closed but it was impossible to contain a warm and bright smile on your lips. — Your lips were traitors, you believed that. — And, in a matter of seconds and due to the lack of interaction, that smile turned into a loud and vibrant laugh.

Your neck received, once again, attention but now due to the small beard, not so annoying, that grew in the region of Tom's face; this time, an intense tickling sensation. — You tried to remove his face from between your neck with your hands but, unsurprisingly, you failed when he held both of you with just one hand.

Tom's laugh, which was muffled between your neck and pillow, joined against yours and echoed throughout the large and tidy room where you were staying. — Well, apart from just some of the clothes you guys had to wear to more TBOSAS opening night and accessories; the room was organizing. — And you swear, with the old, childish pinky promise, that you could listen to your laugh for hours.

Last night was so tiring, but so good; in fact, it was magnificent. — Once again meeting with the cast, giving interviews and taking countless photos with fans and in print; it was a special night.

Lifting his head and directing it towards the pillow, as it was in previous minutes, Tom finds himself observing the image before his eyes. — Your chest rose and fell gently, trying to recover and manage your breathing, your hair, with some stubborn and messy strands, spread across the pillow. — A radiant and fascinating scene for the eldest.

Not to mention, a sleepy smile on your lips. — If Tom had the opportunity and absolute power, he would stop time and stay like this with you forever.

"Good morning, my love." — His voice is hoarser than normal, and Tom wraps an arm around your covered waist, bringing your body even closer to his. — "How did you sleep, huh?" — He asks, giving small, loving kisses on your shoulder. — "The most beautiful woman in this world."

"Good…" — You replied, sleepy with red and embarrassed cheeks, and ran a hand through his hair; leaving a prolonged and attentive caress and then, moving your head, to leave a kiss on his forehead. — "What time is it?"

"I don't know…?" — Blyth raised his head and now you had the opportunity to admire his blue orbs so crystal clear, deep and enchanting; you found yourself falling even more in love with the boy every time his eyes met yours. — "Maybe it's eight, nine or even twelve hours?"

It was ironic to think that the clock was just a few steps away from the bed where you were and neither of you really cared. — Maybe it would be laziness, sleepiness or an excuse to spend more time together. — And the correct option was the third, no surprises.

Your eyes roamed between the dark locks and a few shy curls of Tom's hair, and all the comments about the idea of him actually opting to dye him blond — just like Coriolanus — played in your mind. — and every time they talked to you about this subject, you replied: "that wouldn't be a bad idea."

But, you always made it clear that you were the number one fan of his natural color. — And there were fans who agreed with you; you saw it on your social media and thought it was so funny and always showed it to Tom and the rest of the cast.

"What are our plans today?" — You whispered. — "… i'm seriously thinking about the idea of staying here all day." — In the middle of the sentence, you couldn't contain your laughter again; which this time was brief. — "Really." — Fatigue ran freely through your body and he wanted a long rest.

"Really?" — Blyth murmured, placing his face between your neck for the second time in a row that morning; you just nodded in confirmation, now felt prolonged kisses on your sensitive area. — "Then make your words mine."

[kaisturni]

hands on me | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; chris and y/n get into one of their usual screaming matches, but this one ends a little less usual than normal.

→ warnings; smut, fingering, swearing, f!oral (receiving), choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE), dirty talk, use of names (baby)

→ hi pretty lovies :) this is my first time writing a smut fanfic so PLSSS let me know if you guys like it, and if there are any requests, don’t hesitate to share! almost nothing is off limits ;) enjoy!

NOT PROOFREAD EEK

——————————————————————————

y/n and chris had been in a screaming match all day.

from sunrise to the middle of the night, it's taken both nick and matt holding the two back so they don't entangle and kill each other.

"whatever," nick breaths, "i'm so fucking done with you guys. i know you don't get along but this is ridiculous."

"yeah" matt agreed, letting out a sigh. "i for one am tired as shit, try not to murder the other while we're asleep," the other two brothers pace back into their respective rooms, slamming the door one after another.

"great!" y/n starts, "who am i supposed to sleep with now, guaranteed they both just locked their doors." she whispered to herself.

"god, who cares? you could sleep on the street for all i fucking care." chris yells, watching y/n stand outside of nick's door, not daring to make an advance inside.

the girl shot daggers at him, "whatever chris, tell that to your fucking brothers, they're the ones who let me live here." y/n huffs out as she shoves chris full force out of the way, preparing for a sleep on the boy's couch. but before she can even reach the end of the hallway, chris grabs y/n by the throat and slams her against the wall.

y/n hits the wall, exuding air on impact, hands gripping onto chris', which has her easily pinned on to the wall.

"did you seriously just put your hands on me?" he said lowly, closing the distance between him and

y/n. the girls heart was racing at a mile a minute, unsure of what her actions would cause next. she was so confident yelling at chris frequently from across the room, but suddenly powerless in his grasp, she was, briefly, at a loss for words.

"yeah," y/n managed to grunt out. she had never been this close to chris before, let alone feel his body inches away from her own skin. his eyes were dark and low, jaw tight and sharp, his features barely illuminated in the light. as much as she hated him, she found him punishingly attractive.

"and what are you going to do about it?" she dared to whisper to him, trying to keep as much confidence in her tone as she could, not letting him see how much she withered under his touch.

from a few heavy breaths, y/n's throat still in his hand, he shoved her into his room and shut the door behind him. he flipped the two around so she was again back against the wall.

"what am i going to do about it?" he taunted, less than an inch between their bodies, breaths mingling and eyes locked in contact.

"you have no idea what i could do to your right now," chris spoke lowly, uninterested in letting his brother's hear the way he is speaking to the girl he supposedly wants to kill.

"if only you just kept that pretty little mouth shut, maybe i could've showed you sooner," his words faded out, his hand around her neck tightened slightly, as he brushed his lips against hers, earning a barely audible moan from the girl under his grip.

"chris" y/n managed to breath out, suddenly feeling a sense of neediness and wanting from him. is it bad she could be so turned on from how rough chris was being with her? she had never seen this side of him before, the side of him that she didn't think existed to her. before this he was ready to take her head off and so was she. but now she could feel the heat rising in her legs, and shocking her stomach, anticipating what was to come next.

"what? don't act like you don't want it, you think i can't tell that you do? look at you." chris taunted, gently using his teeth to tug on her bottom lip. y/n felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

unknowing what came over her, y/n remarked back "oh, i'd want this. just not with you," she could see the anger growing in his face as she continued, "anyone could do whatever you'd do better." she knew what the words she was saying would lead her. she almost hoped chris got the message.

"is that so? i'll show you you're wrong." chris swiftly tossed y/n to the bed, pinning her down, yet again cementing their faces inches away from each other.

"you'll be begging me to do this more often when we're done," beginning to leave sloppy kisses against y/n's neck. "i'd destroy you,"

"so destroy me," y/n dared.

chris smiled against her skin, wet kisses becoming dark hickies all over her neck and jaw. his lips slowly moved down to her covered chest, frustrated with the fabric, he tugged on her shirt, signaling to take it off.

y/n sat up in the bed ripping her shirt over her head, his eyes meeting with her bare chest. "no bra, huh?" he said before claiming her right nipple in his mouth, kissing, sucking, and biting on it, and doing it harder with each moan he earned from her.

"i never wear one" she admitted, eyes screwed shut in the unexpected pleasure that chris sturniolo was bringing to her.

"i hope that's not the only thing you never wear," he said against her skin, kisses continuing down her body until he reached her inner thighs, with only a thin layer of fabric separating her core and his lips.

y/n gasped as he yanked her to the edge of the bed, making her wet shorts visible to him even in the dim light. he smirked looking up at her,

"fucking soaked," he said what she already knew, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut in anticipation, "chris, please." she begged, thinking how pathetic it was that the few words she was able to get out gave chris everything he wanted to hear in that moment, but she didn't care. 

"since you're begging for me," he taunted, taking off y/n's barely there sleeping shorts, taking in how perfect her core was dripping under the light, practically calling his name. never would he had anticipating being in this moment, but god he knew he was lying if he said he didn't think about it.

he teased her by trailing small kisses and nibbles against her inner thigh, making her wetter by the second. before y/n knew, he was licking and sucking down her slit, arms pushing her legs further into her chest to get even deeper.

gripping the sheets with white knuckles, y/n found it impossible not to scream his name as he stuck his tongue inside her, moaning against her pussy as the vibrations drove her closer to her high.

"chris i'm gonna cum," she said panting, edging him to keep going, not wanting the pleasure to stop as she found her hands tangled in his hair. but before y/n managed to reach her high, he pulled his face away from between her legs. mouth dripping with all her juices, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.

the two kissed each other hungrily, each fighting for dominance over the other, but chris ultimately won as he stuck to fingers inside of her, causing y/n to gasp, prompting chris to shove his tongue into her mouth.

"how am i supposed to hate you when i know your pussy is this good?" chris asked between sloppy wet kisses, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her, wetness leaking onto his bedsheets.

y/n could feel the knots tying in her stomach, signaling she was close, “c-chris i’m so fucking close,” she said absolutely breathless, weakly gripping his moving wrist.

his two fingers slowed their pace, and she whined at the loss of contact. y/n couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, in order to do something to stop the aching between her legs.

“not so fast,” chris said, peeling off his hoodie and sweats, leaving him in just black calvin klein underwear. “spread,” he demanded.

y/n obliged without hesitation, aching and ready for him to be inside her. chris used his thumb to rub her clit in circles, causing her to arch her back and moan in pleasure, chris could feel his dick aching to fuck her, but he wasn’t going to let her have it easily.

“c-chris please,” she begged, “please what, baby?-

baby?

-tell me,” he said, knowing exactly what she wanted from him, “please f-fuck me- shit,”

as soon as those words left her mouth, chris removed his underwear, his length springing up, leaking with pre-cum and burning with desire.

he ran the tip on y/n’s slit, groans exiting from both of their mouths. without warning, he slammed his entire length into her, causing her to gasp at the feeling.

tears ran down y/n’s cheek as she moaned out chris’ name and profanities at the pace that he was pounding into her,

“you look so pretty when i fuck you, baby,” he growled in her ear, “look at you, doing so good at taking all of me,” he said before sensually connecting their lips.

y/n had no words to say, only muffled sounds in between kisses coming out of her mouth from being completely fucked out by chris, and it didn’t take long for her to feel her orgasm coming back.

“oh, chris, i’m gonna cu-,”

“wait, you cum when i say, okay?” he said lowly, before quickening his pace, feeling his own climax coming too.

“i can’t take it, please let me cum,” y/n pleaded, feeling completely buzzed from all the sensation going in her body.

“cum baby, i’m right there too,” he breathed out, feeling her walls clench around him causing chris to explode inside her, filling her up at the same time she reached her own high.

chris pumped a few more times in and out of her, both groaning as he pulled his dick out of her, then falling on the bed next to the sexed out girl next to him.

the two looked at each other for a moment, and chris softly kissed her, finding his way to be on top of her again. he pulled their lips apart and ran a hand through her hair,

“why do we do this? i’m tired of hating you, why do you act like that with me?” y/n said, staring at chris’ piercing blue eyes above her. he sighed, “i really don’t know,” he started, “i guess the way i feel about you just made me angry for some reason. it always made me mad how close you are with nick and matt, and i guess i kept it up too long,” he admitted, playing with the ends of her soft hair.

“you should’ve just told me,” y/n retorted, placing a gentle hand on the side of chris’ face, and he nuzzled into it. “i know, and i’m sorry. can we be done with that, please?” he asked her, cautiously.

“of course we can,” y/n smiled. chris smiled back at her, connecting their lips once more.

“okay,” he began grabbing her hand, “let’s go get cleaned up. we can have another fight in the shower,” smiling deviously at her after making the statement.

y/n rolled her eyes at the boy, and quickly followed him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

[yoyomomiko]

WHAT ARE UR HEADCANONS 4 DAISUKE X READER??????

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: a lil cringe, maybe some cursing, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, ENGLISH isn't my first language!!

(A/N): OMG I LOVE DAISUKE😍😍 ANYWAYS THIS IS KINDA SHORT AND RUSHED BECAUSE I WAS EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I'M SO SORRY👉👈 -> m.list

★CRUSHING/CONFESSION

Hear me out, you fell first he fell harder.

I am very confident that at first he didn't even realize he himself had a crush on you... Like, he wanted to make you laugh more than he wanted to to the others, he always wanted to help you and be there for you... So, he pieced two and two together, and figured out that he actually was in love with you.

If he were to tell someone (probably not) it would OFCCC be our nice old man Swansea☺️

You see, Daisuke is very... Uhm, an idiot, so he won't understand when you're flirting with him. That's just him, he's too dense. You have to speak up, or else he won't pick up.

He always cracks jokes around you just to try and make you laugh😀

But like, it's so obvious he likes you

He's following you like a lost puppy, eager to please you in ANY way.

He's crushing on you so hard...

You kinda notice it since he just helps you with everything, offering help with your chores or just anything in general.

HE THINKS HE'S HIDING IT SOOO WELL BUT IN REALITY AT LEAST SOMEBODY CAUGHT UP TO IT (probably Swansea duh)

Let's say he's the one to confess first...

He would do it on accident for SURE. Do what you will with that information, let your imagination get ahead of you😍 (I'm actually lazy that's why I didn't write it but yeah whatever sue ME)

So then, he realizes what he said and then you also confess and BOOM, he's all over you. Good luck trying to get rid of him (who tf would do that🤨)

★DURING THE RELATIONSHIP

This man will go show you off the moment you two have an established relationship (unless you don't wanna)

RANTS TO SWANSEA ABOUT YOU

No but fr Swansea's probably tired of hearing him babble about you, he seriously had to force him to shut up just for a small moment of peace. BUT he secretly likes the fact that Daisuke is happy so like🤭

Daisuke is a really energetic guy so I feel like if you match his vibe he's never gonna let you go

LISTEN TO MEEE, he loves both physical affection AND words of affirmation, he's big on BOTH.

If he could, he would hold your hand forever, NEVER would he let go of you. He wants to hold you, close, for as long as possible.

If you decide at some point to sleep in the same bed, you will get cuddles every single night.

Big spoon or little spoon, he doesn't care. Just TOUCH him, in ANY way, he doesn't care and doesn't mind just do it!!

OMG PRAISE HIM

He always searches for your compliments, just PRAISE HIM please, tell him you're proud of him or something IDKKKK

"Did I do good?" "I'm doing great, right?"

UGH if there's something he loves most about you (he would kiss every inch of your body but whatevs) it's definetly your laugh.

Okay, maybe it's the way you praise him at the end of each day.

Okay, no, MAYBE it's the way you play with his hair while he slowly drifts to sleep from your soothing touch.

Okay, maybe he just loves you wholeheartedly and would do anything for you (he's whipped)

I imagine that he seeks out for head pats. Just pat his head. Pet him or sum idk ask him.

While in bed, he definitely headbutts your palm just to let you know what he wants. Cause like at first he just nudges you but if you don't get the hint, he'll straight up headbutt your hand (I saw someone say this and I love you for that)

CALL HIM A GOOD BOY UGHHH

Lowkey imagine if you called him a good boy tho that's crazy

I have to say that I think Daisuke, as much of a dumbass as he is, listens very well.

He's surprisingly very good at comforting you

He might now understand you, but he listens, and tries his best

TELL HIM YOU'RE PROUD OF HIM OMG

He's gonna find cheesy nicknames for you so buckle up >⁠.⁠<

Daisuke LOVES kissing you, there, I said it.

Whether it's a small peck on the cheek or a full on make out session, he's gonna enjoy it and THANK you.

He sometimes wonders how he pulled you ngl🤨

If like, some sort of small argument got in between you, he'll be apologizing on his knees and begging you to forgive him with snot running down

Imagine you called him a good boy that'd lowkey be crazy

If you somehow ever decide to wear a piece of clothing that belongs to him, it WILL be yours.

He's gonna squeal like a school girl and compliment youuu

Overall 10/10 boyfriend. He's sweet, charismatic, energetic, a bit of an airhead, kisses the ground you walk on, and bonus for being handsome.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[moonchild9350]

Napping With Stray Kids

Summary: Just my thoughts on napping with Skz!

Pairing: OT8 idol Stray Kids x reader

Word Count: 881

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Warnings: none (shocking for me lol)

Notes: This was fun to write and had to put something together real quick before life gets busy again! I'm happy this came up in our convos @jeonginsleftcheek! I hope you guys like it!

Likes, reblogs, and comments welcomed as always :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Bangchan We all know Bangchan has insomnia and doesn’t sleep well or much at all but he’s more than happy to at least try to nap with you if you suggest it. He’ll hold off on his never ending to do list, because he’ll do anything for his baby girl. You snuggle into his arms, as he pulls the blankets up and around you to keep you warm. His fingers lightly drag up and down your spine, soothing you. He’ll even sing you a song to help you fall asleep if you want. Tucking your head into his chest, your breathing starts to slow as you fall asleep. Chan tries, he really does, to fall asleep and nap with you but he’s perfectly content watching you sleep in his arms.

Lee Know I’m convinced that if you try to nap with Minho, sleep won’t come right away. He’ll try and tickle you knowing how ticklish you are, giggling as you squirm and grab a pillow to throw it at him. He’ll tackle you and press kisses all over your face while you laugh and tell him to stop (even though you don’t want him to, not really). After retrieving the pillows off the floor, you’ll both settle in, Minho wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling his head into your neck. If you’re lucky the kids will come nap with you guys too, Soonie napping by both of your heads, Doongie at your feet, and Dori snuggling into your side.

Changbin Changbin would be one to be watching videos on his phone like tik tok or YouTube and would giggle every two seconds at something funny. Every time you close your eyes to nap, his giggle would fill the room causing you to open your eyes and laugh back with him. You can’t help it, he’s just so darn cute! Eventually you do fall asleep, your head resting on your chest. Binnie notices you’re asleep (which is a miracle honestly because the man can’t multitask to save his life) and tries his best not to make a sound, you just look so peaceful and he wants to make sure his baby gets plenty of rest.

Hyunjin I believe that napping with Hyunjin would be the most poetic? Like you’re all curled up in his bed, blanket wrapped around you, your hair fanned out on his pillow. He’s sitting at his desk painting, cause when is he not. But you don’t mind. You watch him for a while, the way his hands move around the paper, the little face he makes when the color doesn’t come out the way he wants. You eventually drift off to sleep. Hyunjin notices, and smiles, happy you’re here with him. Little do you know, you’re sleeping form is the subject of his painting, as he thinks you look like an angel.

Han Han is the certified nap man, this is no secret. He is always down for a nap, add you in the equation and he’s the happiest man on earth. He’ll pull you into his arms, pressing sweet kisses and nuzzling his head into your neck. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. You’re just so cute together. And bonus points for the members if you guys fall asleep at the studio. They’re ohhhing and awwing at you two love birds, fast asleep together.

Felix On his off days, he’s at his computer, playing Genshin. It’s really the only time he has to play. But the moment you come over, he logs off and he goes to snuggle with you. You love looking at Felix’s face, tracing his freckles while he looks deep into your eyes. You’re both just so in love with each other. Your eyes slowly close, perfectly content in his arms. Felix would lean down to press a kiss on your nose, before closing his own eyes. He finds he sleeps best when you’re by his side.

Seungmin Now Seungmin could go both ways when it comes to napping with you. He could be a total menace by poking your face and tickling you. Making fun of your protests (lovingly of course) and not letting you sleep. Or he could be the exact opposite, a sweet puppy, pulling you close and softy singing you a song to help lull you to sleep. Either way he will end of falling asleep with you, mind blown at how he could have ended up with such a sweet person as you.

I.N. Now Jeongin is a middle child and hates skinship, this we all know. But I’m convinced if he’s going to snuggle and fall asleep with someone it’s you, the love of his life. It’s different when you touch him, he craves your touch more than he thought possible. He makes sure you’re all tucked in, nice and warm, but not so much so that he can’t feel you anymore. You’ll laugh at his actions, telling him you’re fine as long as he’s there. He doesn’t listen, he wants to make sure you have a nice rest and being warm and comfortable is part of that. To top it all off, he’ll drape your legs over his, and wrap his arms around you as you both drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek

[luvlystarr]

.・。.・゜❃・.・❃・゜・。.

Prompt: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and the sweetheart next door

Content: Pure fluff

I just want to say thank you so much for the support on my Ghost Grumpy x Sunshine fanfic!! I didn’t expect it to reach 1k notes and I’m so grateful that you guys enjoyed it!🤍

.・。.・゜・゜

Simon kept shuffling around his bed over and over again, unable to sleep.

It was 12 PM and he had just came back from deployment. For three week straight his body was surviving off of coffee and adrenaline. He desperately wanted to sleep but unfortunately his new neighbor was moving in.

Through the thin walls he could hear the constant movement of their feet and the dropping of multiple boxes. Simon groaned into his pillow before finally trudging towards the noises. His neighbor hasn't even fully moved in and he's fed up already. He swung his door open, glaring at the door across his, but he instantly felt regret when he saw your helpless figure trying to hold multiple boxes all at once. Beads of sweat formed on your face and your chest was heaving rapidly, it looked like you were gonna faint any minute.

You saw Simon from the corner of your eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Good afternoon! I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything,” you chuckled embarrassingly.

Simon couldn’t help but adore your pretty smile and your sweet voice. All of the negative thoughts in his head flew out the window in an instant.

“It’s alright, just keep it down, yeah?”

Before you could respond, one of the boxes slipped past your hands and dropped to the floor.

A small curse left your lips as you tried picking it up and, without even thinking, Simon rushed to grab it for you.

“Oh, thank you!” You beamed at his kind gesture.

Simon felt his heart melt at the sight of your pure joy.

“No problem, I could help you with the rest if you want.”

You tried insisting that he shouldn’t bother and you got everything in control. But Simon wouldn’t let you exhaust yourself. Besides, he would do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours once more.

After half an hour all the boxes were finally inside the empty apartment. It would’ve originally taken you another hour without Simon’s help. Now all you had to do was unpack, which was less work.

You were glad that your work for the day was done but Simon wasn’t. It meant that he would have to go back and say goodbye.

“I’ll see you around, Simon!” You say before you shut the door.

Your voice echoed throughout Simon’s mind, over and over again. He stood there for a moment, almost like he was in a trance.

He snapped back to reality. His hand wiped across his face at the unusual thoughts he was having. Who would’ve thought you would have such an effect on him?

The following day Simon was greeted by a knock on the door.

He opened it and there you were, the same gorgeous smile on your face while you held a container.

“Good morning! I just wanted to give you something before I leave for work.”

You open the container and reveal a dozen heart shaped cookies.

“I made you some cookies as a thank you gift!” You beamed.

At that point Simon’s heart was completely melted because of you. He couldn’t stop the stupid grin that crept across his face.

“Thanks,” he says as he takes the container.

After he took it, you stood there for a minute, fiddling with your fingers. You looked nervous about something.

“So, um.. I was thinking if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. I don’t have friends in the city and I really want to treat you for helping me out— as long as you’re free and okay with it of course!” You stammered. Your cheeks were a rosy hue.

Simon’s mind went completely blank.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he quickly replied.

Hearing his words made your smile grow even wider. Your eyes were quite literally glittering with happiness.

“It’s a date then!” You giggle in a joking manner.

If only you knew how much your words caused heart rate to spike up the roof.

・゜・。. .・。.・゜・゜・。.